When the warmth of Arthit's embrace vanished, he stirred in his half-asleep state, his arm instinctively reaching across the bed in search of the smaller frame that had been nestled against him just moments ago. His fingers grazed only the cool fabric of the sheets. Frowning, he pried his heavy eyelids open and scanned the dimly lit room. It was empty.
His irritation flared as he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The space where Daotok had been was void of any trace of him. Even his belongings were gone. A frustrated sigh slipped past Arthit's lips.
"Damn it," he muttered. "He packed his stuff and ran away... even took the damn cat with him."
Throwing off the covers, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and made his way toward the door, intent on checking the next room. Just as he pulled the door open, he was met with another door opening across the hallway. A familiar face stepped out, her appearance much improved from the last time he'd seen her.
"Oh, Min," Arthit greeted, forcing some cheer into his voice. "Just woke up?"
"Yeah," she replied, stretching slightly.
"Where are you off to?"
"Part-time job," she answered. "And you? Heading out looking like that?"
"No, just going next door."
Min gave him a knowing look before nodding. "Oh, got it. Alright, see you. I'm off."
"Okay," he responded absently, already shifting his focus to the next room.
He knocked firmly on the door, and moments later, it creaked open. Standing in the doorway was Daotok, already dressed and seemingly ready to head out. His petite frame was neatly put together, as if he had been awake for hours.
"Where are you off to, dressed like that?" Arthit asked, crossing his arms.
"Aren't you taking me out?" Daotok tilted his head, his voice neutral.
"Oh, right. You're ready already?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"Why would I wake you up?"
Arthit scoffed, eyes narrowing. "And you even packed up your stuff and left. Even took the cat. You sure you didn't forget anything?"
Daotok blinked up at him, unimpressed. "What did I forget?"
"Me."
"Oh, I left that behind in your room."
Arthit chuckled, shaking his head. "You actually used the words 'left behind.' Alright, I'll go shower and get dressed."
"Alright."
Satisfied, Arthit returned to his room, ensuring that Daotok didn't disappear again. He showered quickly, got dressed, and knocked on Daotok's door once more. By the time they headed out, it was nearly 11 A.M, and his stomach was beginning to protest.
"Let's grab some food at the mall first," Arthit said, casually draping an arm over Daotok's shoulder as they walked.
Daotok immediately pushed his arm away and put some distance between them, though the attempt was futile. Arthit simply pulled him back with ease.
"I can't walk properly like this," Daotok complained, shooting him a glare.
"You'll get used to it."
They reached the parking lot, and Arthit led them to his new car, a vehicle he was still a little too excited about. The drive to the mall was short, and by the time they arrived, the doors had just opened.
"You know, this is the first time we're having a date at the mall like this,"
Arthit mused, glancing at Daotok.
"A date?"
"Yeah."
"What about the stationery shop?" Daotok asked, shifting the topic.
"We'll grab some food first, shop a little, and then go," Arthit replied easily.
"Okay."
Satisfied with his agreement, Arthit tightened his arm around Daotok's shoulder, leading him inside.
"What do you feel like eating?" he asked.
"Anything."
"Steak?"
"Alright."
"Want to watch a movie?"
"No," Daotok answered flatly. "I just watched one with North."
Arthit frowned. "Watching at home and at the theater isn't the same. What's playing these days? I haven't kept up."
Before Daotok could respond, a voice called out from behind them. The unfamiliar name made both of them turn around.
"Yoo Song, what a coincidence!"
The man approaching them was shorter than Arthit, with distinct Korean features and an accent that wasn't entirely fluent in Thai. His face lit up with unrestrained joy at the sight of Daotok.
Arthit narrowed his eyes. "Is he talking to you?"
Daotok gave a small nod, his expression unreadable. Wait... Korean?
"Hello, Khun Kim," Daotok greeted politely.
Well, damn.
Arthit felt a surge of irritation. Coincidence, his ass. The guy looked way too thrilled to run into Daotok. Was this the same person North had teased him about? The one who wanted to hire Daotok?
"Why did he call you Yoo Song? Is your name Yoo Song?" Arthit asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
Daotok sighed. "He said it in Korean. 'Yoo Song' means 'falling star.'"
"You sure have a lot of names," Arthit muttered.
Kim's grin widened. "Are you eating lunch here? Perfect. Can I join your table?"
Daotok turned to Arthit, seeking his opinion. Arthit bit back his annoyance, reminding himself—again and again—that this man was a client. Someone who wanted to hire Daotok. Not someone trying to steal him away.
"Sure," Daotok finally agreed.
Just like that, the three of them ended up at the same table. As they skimmed through the menu, Kim struck up conversation. "It's been a while
since we last met."
"Yeah," Daotok replied simply.
"So, uh, are you two dating?"
Arthit immediately turned his head to Daotok, waiting for his response.
"Ah... No, we're not," Daotok said casually.
"Are you friends, then?"
Arthit clenched his jaw, his grip tightening around the menu. If this guy kept asking questions, he was going to end up smacking him with it.
"We're Pee-Nong."
Arthit nearly choked.
Pee-Nong?!
What kind of ridiculous excuse was that?! His blood pressure spiked as
Kim smirked, seemingly amused by the answer.
"Yeah, Pee-Nong," Arthit echoed dryly, reaching out to ruffle Daotok's hair in mock annoyance.
Daotok didn't resist, merely shooting him a quick glance before returning his focus to the menu. Arthit, on the other hand, was already sizing Kim up. The guy was either oblivious or deliberately pushing his buttons. Either way, Arthit didn't trust him one bit. Beneath the table, he reached for Daotok's hand, gripping it tightly. Daotok didn't pull away like usual. For a brief moment, his anger subsided.
Then Kim spoke again.
"And what's your name?"
Arthit forced a smile, barely suppressing his irritation. "Ah... it's... uh… Arthit. I'm the Pee. Yeah."
Daotok stifled a laugh at his expense. Arthit shot him a look. Oh, so this was funny to him?
Kim extended his hand. "Kim Taemin."
Arthit shook it begrudgingly, repeating the words in his head like a mantra.
He. Is. A. Client.
Arthit sat across from Kim, observing the man with wary eyes as he spoke in an overly polite tone. "I've worked with Yoo Song before. I contacted him again because I really enjoyed collaborating with him."
Why does he sound so refined? It's like he's a classier version of someone trying to steal my boyfriend.
Arthit forced himself to remain calm, though the possessiveness simmering beneath his skin was hard to suppress. "It's next week, right? The work meeting?" he asked, feigning casual interest.
Kim nodded. "Yes. Your name is Arthit, right? Can I call you Taeyang? It means 'sun' in Korean."
Arthit barely registered the question before nodding absentmindedly. Sure, why not? Give me a Korean name to match Yoo's. Great idea.
Kim smiled, undeterred. "And how are you? Doing well?"
"Yes. And you, Khun Kim?" Arthit replied stiffly.
"I'm good. I work in Korea..." Kim began speaking about his work, but
Arthit tuned him out entirely. His focus was locked onto the person beside him. Underneath the table, his fingers remained tightly entwined with Daotok's, a silent claim of ownership. His other hand lazily brushed against Daotok's soft hair, fingertips tracing his cheek as they sat close together.
Then Kim's next question snapped him out of his silent reverie.
"Uh, can I ask you something?"
Arthit's eyes flicked up briefly before returning to Daotok. "Yes?"
"Are you two really siblings?"
"No." Arthit answered immediately, his voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. "Isn't it obvious I'm courting him?"
Daotok turned slightly at his words, his expression unreadable, but he made no move to refute it. Meanwhile, Kim seemed momentarily taken aback, his polite mask cracking just a little before he recovered with a forced smile.
"Oh, is that so?" Kim chuckled awkwardly.
Arthit didn't bother replying. He merely stared at the man, letting his irritation show. Kim flinched under the weight of his gaze, clearing his throat before diverting the topic. "I see... Well, the food is here. Let's eat."
Despite the meal in front of him, Arthit felt a strange sense of unease gnawing at the edges of his mind. There was something off about Kim. His awkwardness, his sugary tone, the way he directed too much attention toward Daotok—it didn't sit well with him.
This guy isn't just a random client.
Now I understand why North kept provoking me. My instincts as a man tell me there's at least a 70% chance this guy likes Shorty... No, scratch that.
Make it 90%.
Arthit turned his gaze to Daotok, who, completely unfazed, ate his meal at a relaxed pace. He pushed some of his vegetables onto Daotok's plate, and without hesitation, Daotok ate them without complaint. The simple action sent a strange sense of satisfaction through Arthit's chest, as if it was proof of something only the two of them understood.
Once the meal was over, it was finally time to part ways. Arthit wasted no time putting an arm around Daotok's shoulders, subtly leading him away from Kim before any further conversation could take place. He took a deep breath, exhaling in an attempt to settle his lingering irritation.
"Are you mad?" Daotok asked quietly.
"Mad about what?" Arthit glanced at him.
"About me saying we're siblings."
"Why would I be mad? It's true. Once I officially become your partner, you can proudly tell others I'm your boyfriend as easily as you say we're siblings."
Daotok nodded without hesitation. "Alright."
Arthit frowned slightly. "Alright, what?"
"I'll tell them."
"Tell them what?"
"Not that," Daotok shook his head. "I'll use softer words."
Arthit sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. I'm just annoyed that he likes you, that's all."
"Really?"
"You still don't believe he likes you, huh?" Arthit let out a dry chuckle.
"When North first told me, I didn't believe it either, but after today, it's obvious. I'd say there's more than a 70% chance—no, make that 90%."
Daotok tilted his head slightly. "Really?"
Arthit scoffed. "His eyes practically lit up whenever he looked at you. I wanted to poke them out."
Daotok merely shrugged. "Forget about him. No point wasting time on it."
"What are you planning to buy?" Arthit changed the subject, shaking off his irritation.
"Clothes, shoes," Daotok replied. "Want anything?"
"No," he shook his head. "Well, I'm getting you something," Arthit announced, dragging him toward the clothing section. "I'll show you what this 'big brother' can do for you."
Daotok sighed but let himself be pulled along.
"And next week, you have to work with Kim, right?" Arthit asked casually.
"Yes."
"Start it this week already."
Daotok frowned. "Why?"
"Let's just get it over with. If we let it drag on, he might find another excuse to meet you again. What then?"
"And what about your work?"
Arthit rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. Direk and I aren't in any rush. But Kim? We need to get him out of your life as soon as possible. If he weren't a client, I would've given him a real piece of my mind."
Daotok gave him a knowing look. "That's good."
Arthit raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"You need to control your emotions. Be a good boy."
Arthit smirked. "What, do I get a treat for that? Like a bone? Want to pat my head, too?"
"Bow your head, then."
"Are you nuts? We're in the middle of a mall. Even if I act like a dog sometimes, let me be a tiger in public."
Daotok hummed in response, walking slightly behind him.
Despite his earlier irritation, Arthit refrained from doing anything rash. Kim was a client, and that meant he had to keep himself in check. If he lost control, Daotok could lose business—and worse, his reputation might take a hit. If his career suffered because of Arthit's temper, neither of them would win.
So, for now, he bottled it all up. Instead, he focused on the simple joys of shopping with Daotok, using Direk's freshly transferred money to buy whatever he pleased—and, of course, forcing Daotok to accept gifts despite his protests. Just seeing his face softened the last remnants of anger lingering inside him.
Kim could wait. For now, he just wanted to enjoy his time with Daotok.
☆☆☆☆☆
Arthit leaned lazily against a metal pole, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed on the indecisive figure in front of him. His voice carried an unmistakable edge of boredom as he asked, "Why are you taking so long to choose?"
Daotok lowered the shirt he had been holding, his fingers brushing against the fabric before he let it slip back onto the rack. He tilted his head up to meet Arthit's gaze. "I don't want anything."
Arthit exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "Just pick one already."
"It's expensive," Daotok admitted, shifting uncomfortably under the store's bright lights.
"Of course, it's expensive. It's quality."
"Why are you buying this for me?"
"Because I want to," Arthit replied simply, as if the answer should have been obvious.
Daotok shook his head and reached to hang the shirt back in its place. "But I don't want it." He spoke with honesty, his voice quiet but firm.
He knew Arthit had been insistent, urging him to pick at least three shirts, yet he felt no excitement at the thought of new clothes. Unlike Arthit, whose closet was undoubtedly filled with high-end brands and carefully chosen outfits, Daotok had never been interested in fashion. His father had always picked out his clothes for him, and if left to his own devices, his entire wardrobe would consist solely of plain black and white t-shirts.
Arthit scoffed, shifting his weight against the pole. "Normally, people would be thrilled if someone wanted to spoil them."
"Really?"
"Of course. Be grateful."
"I'm not ungrateful," Daotok said, shaking his head slightly. "I just don't like clothes."
"Alright, then I'll choose for you," Arthit declared without missing a beat.
He plucked a shirt from the rack and held it against Daotok's frame, eyes narrowing as he assessed it. "What size do you normally wear?"
"1."
Arthit raised a brow. "Really? That small?"
"Baggy clothes are more comfortable."
"Like mine?"
"Yeah, but yours are too big."
"What color do you like?"
Daotok hesitated, his mind blank for a moment.
"What, no answer? I'm trying to help you pick here."
"I'm thinking," Daotok muttered. Truthfully, he didn't have a fixed favorite color. Working with colors every day made it impossible to choose just one.
"All of them."
Arthit blinked. "You like all colors?"
Daotok nodded. "Yeah."
"So you're okay with anything. Fine, I'll pick what I think suits you best,"
Arthit decided, a smirk tugging at his lips. Without waiting for a response, he moved through the racks, occasionally holding shirts up against Daotok before tossing them into the shopping basket. Daotok followed without a word, the basket growing heavier with each selection.
"I think this one looks good. Go try it on," Arthit commanded, thrusting a shirt toward him.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Too lazy."
"Come on, just try it." Arthit handed him the shirt before snatching the basket from his hands and nudging him toward the fitting room. With a resigned sigh, Daotok stepped inside and changed into the new shirt. Once dressed, he stepped out, only to be met with Arthit's satisfied expression. "Hey, that's cute! Let's go with this one. Try another one, too."
Daotok narrowed his eyes. "Why do you look like you're having so much fun?"
Arthit grinned. "Fun? Yeah, I like it when I see you wearing something I picked."
Daotok sighed. "Alright."
"What does 'alright' mean this time?"
"If it makes you happy, I'll wear it."
Arthit's smirk softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm loosely around Daotok and pressing a light kiss to the top of his head.
Daotok immediately pushed him away, his face heating up. "This... this is a mall," he mumbled, his heart racing.
Arthit chuckled. "I know it's a mall. If it weren't, I'd kiss you already."
"You can't."
"You mean not in the mall?"
"I mean you can't kiss me."
Arthit smirked. "It'll be fine, as long as you agree."
Daotok sighed deeply before retreating back into the fitting room. When he emerged in another shirt, Arthit nodded in approval and added yet another piece to the basket. By the end of their shopping trip, there were at least six or seven expensive shirts piled inside.
"Is this okay?" Daotok hesitated, his fingers grazing the edge of the basket.
"What?"
"I mean... I don't dislike that you're buying these for me, but even if you didn't..."
Arthit smirked knowingly. "You'd still like me?"
Daotok fell silent, his gaze dropping.
"I know," Arthit said with a chuckle. "I just want you to wear the shirts I picked. You even said so yourself that if I like it, you'll wear it."
"That's not the point," Daotok mumbled, but Arthit was already moving on.
"Alright, let's look at shoes next."
Daotok exhaled in defeat. "Alright."
With their arms full of shopping bags, they eventually made their way to the parking lot. As Arthit loaded their purchases into the car, Daotok's phone buzzed. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Before he could react, a hand snatched it from his grasp.
Arthit's voice dropped slightly as he asked, "Is it Kim?" His sharp eyes flickered over the screen, his expression darkening before he handed the phone back without a word.
Daotok swallowed hard and checked the message.
[KIM]: YooSong looked really cute today. I'm so glad I got to see you.
A storm brewed in Arthit's eyes as he climbed into the driver's seat, his grip on the wheel tightening. Daotok sighed, knowing full well this wasn't over yet.
Daotok could practically hear the curses running through Arthit's mind, even though the man remained silent. His expression, however, spoke volumes. A furrowed brow, lips pressed into a tight line—he was brooding again. No doubt about Khun Kim's casual compliment.
What's wrong with someone calling me cute? Glancing sideways at Arthit, Daotok couldn't help but stifle a small smile. He was sulking, shoulders slightly hunched, arms crossed as he brooded like a child denied his favorite toy. It was an oddly endearing sight. For the first time, Daotok realized he wasn't intimidated by Arthit's presence. Instead of scary, he looked... cute.
Wait. Cute?
Anyone else in Daotok's position would likely feel suffocated by the intensity of Arthit's presence. But here he was, finding something about him charming.
"What?" Arthit's sharp voice cut through his thoughts. Without a word, Daotok reached into his pocket and pulled out his keycard, handing it over. Arthit frowned, eyeing it with suspicion.
"Your keycard?" he asked, taking it hesitantly.
"Yeah."
"You're giving it to me?"
"Just hold onto it."
Daotok expected him to hesitate, maybe even refuse it. But no—Arthit grabbed it immediately, his grip firm, possessive. His dark eyes locked onto Daotok's, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths before he leaned in, closing the space between them without warning.
Instinctively, Daotok's hand shot up, a last-second barrier between them. The result? Arthit's lips brushed against the back of his hand instead of his mouth. The warmth lingered, sending a sharp jolt through Daotok's spine. He barely had time to process the fleeting contact before Arthit smirked and, without missing a beat, began pressing deliberate, lingering kisses against his knuckles. One after another, slow and teasing. Daotok's breath hitched. His body went rigid, completely frozen in place.
A heartbeat later, he jerked his hand back, flustered. His pulse pounded wildly in his ears as he scooted away, putting some much-needed distance between them. Meanwhile, Arthit simply leaned back in his seat, looking wholly satisfied with himself, a knowing grin stretching across his face. That expression... that gaze… Daotok had seen many things in Arthit's eyes before—possessiveness, mischief, intensity. But this time, it was something deeper, something dangerous. It was the look of someone who wanted to devour him whole.
Not cute. Not cute at all.
"You lose your composure so easily," Arthit murmured, amusement dancing in his tone.
Daotok swallowed hard, willing his heartbeat to settle. "And whose fault do you think that is?" he muttered under his breath, turning his gaze elsewhere as Arthit started the car, pulling out of the parking lot.
"Could Kim ever make you feel this way?" Arthit asked suddenly, his tone casual but his words anything but.
Daotok frowned. "No."
"Really?"
"Mmm."
"Good." Arthit smirked, seemingly pleased. "I'm satisfied as long as I'm the only one who can make you lose your composure."
Daotok's stomach flipped. He should be used to this kind of thing by now, but somehow, Arthit always managed to catch him off guard.
"You've opened your heart to me, haven't you?" Arthit's voice dropped to something softer.
Daotok hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."
"Then don't open it to anyone else."
"There's no one else I'd open my heart to like I have with you."
The words were out before Daotok could stop them, and the way Arthit's eyes darkened in response sent a shiver down his spine. Then, suddenly—
"Damn... let me kiss you."
Daotok snapped his head towards him in shock, just in time to see Arthit's hand twitch away from the steering wheel. Panic flared in his chest. "Focus on driving!" he blurted out.
Arthit chuckled, placing both hands back where they belonged. "Relax, I wouldn't actually let go just to kiss you. But then again... who knows?"
Daotok groaned. "Ugh."
"Why do you seem so wary about kisses?"
"Yeah."
"Why won't you let me kiss you?"
"Because we're not dating yet."
Arthit scoffed. "We're brothers, then?" He was being sarcastic, but there was something sharp beneath the joke. "Is there nothing better than that? The term 'brother' hits me right in the heart."
"But we really are like brothers."
Arthit clicked his tongue. "If it were anyone else saying that, I'd have pinched his balls by now."
Daotok let out a weary sigh. "Just upgrade my status a bit, like someone you're talking to."
"Are we talking?" Arthit shot him a look.
"I'm talking to you," Daotok said, exasperated.
"Fine, brothers it is. But I'll ask to be your boyfriend every hour and touch you whenever I want."
Daotok turned to him with an exhausted expression.
"And what about the keycard? You'll have access to my room 24/7."
"You'd break the door down anyway if I didn't give it to you."
Arthit grinned. "So you gave me the keycard to save the door. Makes sense."
"Exactly."
"Smart choice. Because if you kept shutting me out, I'd have brought an axe to smash it down."
Daotok sighed again. "But don't do anything."
"Can I be stopped?"
Relationships weren't supposed to work this way, right? If it were anyone else, they'd still be in the stage of harmless flirting and casual dates. But with Arthit... everything felt accelerated, intense. Overwhelming in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant.
"Hey." Daotok's voice pulled Arthit from his thoughts.
"What?"
"Why do you want to be my boyfriend?"
Arthit scoffed. "Come on, what kind of question is that? When you love someone, you want a proper status, right? I already want to be with you all the time, but being your boyfriend would mean more. You said you need time, and I understand, but I don't know how much time you need. That's why I keep asking—maybe you weren't ready an hour ago, but now you are."
Daotok took a deep breath, gathering his courage. "Next month."
Arthit's brows furrowed. "Huh?"
"You're racing next month. I'll... try to be ready by then."
Silence stretched between them. When Daotok finally dared to meet Arthit's eyes, he found raw shock there.
"Do you mean if I win? Or just after the race?"
Daotok's lips curled into a faint smile. "Winning... would be nice."
Arthit's grin returned in full force. "Deal! Now that's what I'm talking about. This motivates me even more!" He laughed, then hesitated. "But... you don't have to force yourself, okay? I can wait."
"I'm not forcing myself." Daotok shook his head. "I just want to try."
Arthit's voice softened. "For me?"
Daotok met his gaze, unwavering. "No. For us."