Daotok set his phone down after finishing the conversation on Line, a small smile tugging at his lips. Even without seeing Arthit in person, the rapid-fire messages painted a vivid picture of his reactions. The mere thought of him made warmth spread through Daotok's chest.
As he looked up, he became acutely aware of the heavy silence in the room. His friends were all staring at him, eyes wide with curiosity. Tilting his head slightly, he silently questioned their behavior.
"Are you talking to P'Arthit?" Easter was the first to break the silence.
Daotok gave a simple nod.
"Why?"
"Nothing, it's just..." Easter trailed off before grinning. "We've never seen you this happy before."
"Oh... really?"
"Yeah," Easter continued. "Your smile doesn't look like the old, gloomy you at all."
"I used to smile before too," Daotok pointed out, though his voice lacked conviction.
"But not like this," Easter teased. "Guess we owe P'Arthit a thank-you for making you so cheerful."
North, lounging lazily on the couch, smirked. "Shouldn't we thank the ghost that puts up with someone like P'Arthit instead?"
Daotok turned his smile toward North, and the other man visibly froze.
"Stop smiling at everything, it's unsettling," North muttered, shifting uncomfortably.
Daotok only grinned wider. "Really?"
North shuddered. "Chills. That smile doesn't look natural at all!"
"Just teasing."
"The atmosphere around you has changed," Typhoon observed from his spot on the sofa, resting his chin in his hands like a curious kitten. "It's warmer now."
North snorted. "You can sense that much?"
"You're just too insensitive to notice," Typhoon shot back smoothly.
"Not true. You guys are imagining things," North protested.
"I'm not imagining anything!" Typhoon interjected.
"Don't bother arguing with him, Typhoon," Easter sighed.
"You're the one always arguing with North," Typhoon added with a pointed look.
"Why are you always picking fights with me, Ter?" North asked, amused.
"You're the one picking fights with me! It's like you can't go a day without arguing."
North shrugged. "Maybe it's because I see you every day, and you're annoying."
"But you always call me back every night, don't you?" Easter smirked.
North made a face. "Why does that sound so weird?"
"North, can't you sleep alone?" Daotok asked, watching the exchange with mild amusement.
"Not really. I can sleep alone at home, but in unfamiliar places, I get restless."
"Why are you so afraid of ghosts?" Typhoon asked, clearly entertained.
North shuddered. "They're terrifying! Aren't you afraid?"
"Not much. I'm more afraid of the dark," Typhoon admitted. "But you, Dao? You don't seem scared of ghosts at all."
Daotok shook his head. "No, I'm not."
"And you, Ter?" Typhoon turned to him.
"I'm scared, but not as much as North," Easter answered honestly.
"You're exaggerating!" North protested, folding his arms.
"Which is scarier to you—cockroaches or ghosts?" Typhoon challenged.
"Cockroaches." Easter shivered. "I'd rather deal with ghosts than cockroaches. And North used to prank me with them all the time! So cruel!"
"Why are you scared? Cockroaches are cute!" Typhoon said playfully.
"'Cute'?"
"Yeah, they're tiny."
"That's not the point!" Easter grumbled before offering an apple to Daotok, who took a bite.
"By the way, Dao, is there anything you're scared of?" Easter asked curiously.
Daotok thought for a moment. "Good question. I don't really know what I'm afraid of."
"Wow, must be nice to fear nothing," Typhoon mused. The group continued chatting until dinnertime. After eating, Daotok took his medication and eventually drifted off to sleep, surrounded by his friends' laughter.
When he awoke, the weight in his head had lifted, leaving him feeling noticeably better. The room was empty, though the sounds of running water came from the bathroom. His eyes trailed to the sofa, immediately recognizing whose belongings were scattered there.
The clock read 9:30 P.M. when the bathroom door finally swung open, revealing Arthit in a loose white T-shirt and pajama pants.
"Hey, you're awake?" Arthit asked, toweling his damp hair.
Daotok nodded. "Mm-hmm."
"How are you feeling? Still have a headache?"
"No, it's gone."
"That's good," Arthit said as he sat down next to him.
"Are you staying the night?"
"Yeah. I'm already in pajamas, aren't I?"
"Oh... What about Khun Jeon? When can I leave the hospital?"
"I left Jeon with Fah. As for you leaving, we'll observe a bit longer."
"You don't have to stay, you know."
"Are you kicking me out? Not happening."
"No, I just thought you might have things to do—racing, making music, studying."
"I can study here. Racing and music can wait."
"Oh... okay."
Arthit studied Daotok's face for a moment before he smirked. "So, about that guy, Guard—eh, but you don't seem too interested, so never mind."
"You can tell me if you want to," Daotok replied.
"Not much to say. When Direk found out Guard hurt his future son-in-law, he refused to negotiate and let us deal with him however we wanted."
"I see."
"As for Ging, Min went at her so hard she's barely recognizable now. I guess those siblings won't forget this anytime soon. Do you think that's enough?"
Daotok shrugged. "That's enough, I guess. I don't care anymore."
"Really? I don't think it's enough. Let's keep him around to torment a bit more, then let him go."
"Do what you want."
Arthit tilted his head. "Aren't you scared of me?"
"Would you hurt me?"
Arthit scoffed. "Hurting you would be more painful for me than dying."
Daotok gave a small nod. "Then there's no reason to be scared. Besides, I'm not afraid of being hurt by anyone."
Arthit fell silent, his sharp gaze softening. "What are you afraid of then?"
"You sound like Ter," Daotok chuckled.
"Really? And what's your answer?"
"I don't know. What about you?"
"Me?" Arthit exhaled. "I'm afraid you won't love me. Afraid I'll lose you."
Daotok smiled. "Well, then there's nothing to be afraid of."
"There you go again, teasing me. Honestly, what is it with you? Are you trying to kill me with your flirting? Did someone hire you to do this?" he muttered, his lips jutting into a pout.
"Exactly. Someone hired me," Daotok replied, his voice laced with amusement.
Arthit narrowed his eyes. "And what exactly did they hire you for?"
"To make you fall for me... and then leave," Daotok teased, watching as Arthit exhaled sharply.
"That's awful."
"You mean the person who hired me?"
"You!"
Daotok chuckled at his mock irritation, the sound warm and teasing. Arthit's lips pressed into a thin line as he huffed, but his gaze remained locked onto Daotok, curious despite himself.
"How much did they pay you?" he asked, tilting his head.
Daotok tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Hmm... One million."
Arthit scoffed. "My feelings are only worth that much?" He crossed his arms tighter before adding, "Fine, I'll pay you a hundred million."
Daotok raised a brow. "And what exactly are you hiring me for?"
"To love me back," Arthit said, without a moment's hesitation.
Daotok's expression softened. He leaned in just slightly, a small, knowing smile curling at his lips. "No need," he murmured. "I already love you."
Arthit froze. His breath hitched, and for a second, he simply stared at Daotok, his usually sharp features going slack with shock. A faint flush crept up his neck, spreading to his ears. Before Daotok could enjoy his reaction any further, a warm hand suddenly covered his eyes.
"Hey!" Daotok protested, laughing. "That's cheating. Every time you're embarrassed, you always cover my eyes!"
"You're not allowed to look!" Arthit grumbled, his voice almost panicked.
"Dammit... You're impossible."
Daotok tried to pry his hand away, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. After a moment of struggling, Arthit finally relented, dropping his hand. But when Daotok looked at him again, his face had already returned to its usual impassive state, as if nothing had happened.
"That was quick," Daotok mused.
"Quick what? Nothing happened," Arthit shot back defensively.
"Right. Everything's fine then?"
"Yeah, all good."
"Okay, I'll say it again then—"
"No! Don't!" Arthit exclaimed, quickly clamping a hand over Daotok's mouth. His frantic reaction only made Daotok laugh harder, his shoulders shaking from amusement.
"Not now," Arthit muttered, his voice lower this time. "Save it for later."
Daotok, still muffled behind his hand, arched a brow in question.
"You don't want to hear it?" he asked.
"Of course I do!" Arthit admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "But... damn it, my heart is pounding like crazy. Are you confessing or committing murder?"
Daotok laughed again. "You're in a good mood, huh?"
"Maybe."
Arthit huffed. "Having fun teasing me, are you?"
"You can say it all you want, but I'm not allowed to?"
Arthit hesitated before glancing away. His hands rested on his hips, fingers twitching slightly. "Do you really mean it?" he asked, his voice quieter this time.
Daotok nodded without hesitation.
Arthit turned away, his jaw clenched, as if trying to compose himself. But the telltale flush on his cheeks gave him away. He brought a hand up to his mouth, half covering his face.
"Damn... Oh my god," he muttered to himself. "I want to bang my head against a wall. The whole world needs to know this. The friend zone is shaking, damn it!"
Daotok chuckled, shaking his head. "Calm down."
Arthit, still flustered, pointed at him. "Go take a shower."
"Okay."
"Wait, no! Just wipe yourself down. You'll faint or slip again," he added hurriedly, already fetching a damp cloth, clean clothes, and wet tissues.
Daotok raised a brow. "Worried about me?"
"Just hurry up and clean yourself," Arthit mumbled, pulling the curtains around the bed for privacy.
Daotok complied, quickly freshening up before calling out, "Done."
Arthit pulled the curtains open and handed him a fresh towel. "Here."
"How's the race practice going?"
Arthit blinked at the sudden change of subject. "Worried I'll lose and we won't get to date?" he teased, smirking.
Daotok rolled his eyes. "North mentioned it," he replied. Earlier, North had casually bragged about how his boyfriend had helped Arthit train, claiming that Arthit was ridiculously skilled. Apparently, he hadn't allowed Daotok to watch because he wanted to impress him at the actual race.
"Oh? What did he say?"
"He praised you."
Arthit grinned. "I paid him to say that so you'd think I'm cool. So... did it work? Have you fallen for me yet?"
Daotok sighed. "Yeah."
Arthit stiffened. "Uh, wait. Seriously?"
Daotok smirked, crossing his arms.
"Damn, I surrender. I can't even tease you when you hit me with a response like that."
"That's payback for all the teasing you've done."
"Too strong! Way too strong!" Arthit clutched his chest dramatically. "Don't do this to me!"
Daotok chuckled. "Giving up already?"
"Yeah, yeah, I give up. Now, go to sleep."
"I just woke up."
"Sick people need rest. Come on, lie down," Arthit insisted, gently pushing him back. He settled in the chair beside the bed, propping his chin in his hand. But when he caught Daotok looking at him, he quickly pulled the blanket over Daotok's head.
"What are you looking at? Go to sleep!"
"That's unfair. You can look at me, but I can't look at you?"
"Just go to sleep, alright?"
Daotok huffed. "Have you never been embarrassed before?"
"Wow, you're really asking that?"
Arthit heard him chuckle from beneath the blanket. A moment passed before Daotok peeked out again, watching him intently.
"I've never been this happy before," Arthit admitted. "Seriously... I'm proud of myself."
Daotok tilted his head. "Hmm."
"Do we need to tell your family about you being in the hospital?" Arthit asked, abruptly changing the subject.
"It's fine. I'll be discharged soon."
"So, no one usually stays with you?"
"Just friends dropping by sometimes."
"So... I'm the first one to stay with you?"
"Yes."
Arthit exhaled. "Wow. Having a doctor stay over is a real VIP privilege."
Daotok chuckled. "Yep."
Arthit hesitated before asking, "Can I kiss your cheek?"
Daotok blinked, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Why ask when you can just do it?"
Arthit's voice was warm as he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Daotok's cheek. "Such a kind person," he murmured before straightening up. His fingers ruffled Daotok's hair in an affectionate gesture before he turned off the main light, leaving only a dim glow behind.
The faint illumination cast long shadows across the room, creating a cocoon of quiet intimacy. Even as exhaustion pulled at him, Daotok took a while to drift off, the steady presence of Arthit beside him a comforting anchor. Through heavy-lidded eyes, he caught glimpses of Arthit's form in the low light, the older man sitting quietly by his side, flipping through the pages of a book, his focus unwavering.
Three days later, Daotok was discharged from the hospital. His wounds had healed considerably, the bruises fading to faint traces, and the dizziness that once clouded his mind had disappeared. Life seemed to return to normal, as though the ordeal had never happened. The memory of Guard and his sister became a distant blur—one he neither asked about nor cared to remember.
The kittens Somsi had given birth to were all placed in good homes, thanks to the kindhearted vet at the clinic. As for Somsi herself, Min had fully adopted her. It was common now for Min to bring Somsi over to play with Khun Jeon. Surprisingly, the two cats got along well, their interactions playful yet peaceful. There were no worries of unexpected kittens in the future, as both had already been spayed and neutered.
Arthit remained a consistent presence in Daotok's life, just as before. Every morning, without fail, he dropped off breakfast. Every evening, he returned to share dinner with Daotok, as if it was an unspoken ritual. Some nights, he crashed on the sofa, never once overstepping the boundaries that had been set. Daotok realized that despite his rough and assertive nature, Arthit had a surprising patience when it came to him. He waited, understanding that pushing too far too soon would only drive Daotok away.
It was almost amusing to see someone as dominant as Arthit struggle with something as delicate as love. He wasn't the type to listen to others, yet with Daotok, he listened. He followed every word, every instruction, as though they were sacred. If Daotok forbade him from doing something, he wouldn't do it. And if he sulked, it only took a single reprimand to make him look dejected—his expression akin to a scolded puppy, ears drooping, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.
North had once teased, saying that Daotok might be the only person in the world who found Arthit adorable. But Daotok thought otherwise. Perhaps he was the only person in the world that Arthit was willing to be adorable for. Time passed quickly, and before long, the highly anticipated race day arrived. Though outwardly calm, Daotok couldn't ignore the nervous flutter in his chest.
He thought back to the agreement he had made with Arthit a month ago. His heart pounded erratically. He hadn't made it a requirement that Arthit had to win for him to accept being his boyfriend—he had only said that it would be nice if he did. The real reason for waiting until after the race to give his answer had been nothing more than a way to buy himself time, to mentally prepare for the inevitable.
Regardless of the outcome tonight, his answer would remain the same. The one who seemed the most excited and in the best mood was undoubtedly the racer himself. Arthit had been practically glowing that morning when he dropped off Daotok's usual soy milk, radiating an energy that was impossible to ignore. He mentioned that North and his boyfriend would be attending the race as well—North's boyfriend wanted to see the results after helping with practice for so long.
"I'll pick you up around seven," Arthit had said with a grin. "Make sure you're ready."
Daotok had returned to his apartment at five, showered, and gotten dressed.
As he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, he tugged at the hem of the shirt he wore—the very one Arthit had bought for him. A small sigh escaped his lips before he turned his attention to Khun Jeon, playing with the cat until the clock struck seven. Right on time, Arthit arrived.
"Hey, ready?" Arthit asked, eyes scanning him from head to toe with unmistakable approval.
Daotok nodded. "Mm-hmm."
"The shirt I bought you looks great!"
"Mm-hmm."
Arthit chuckled and took his hand, leading him down to the parking lot. As they got into the car, Daotok glanced at him. "Are you nervous about the race?"
Arthit grinned, eyes glinting with excitement. "I'm more excited for after the race. There won't be a 'no' anymore, right?"
"Mm-hmm."
"Damn, I'm nervous. Should there be some kind of surprise?"
"Why are you asking me?"
"Because I don't know who else to ask. I asked Direk, and he said it's up to you. Then I asked Joe, and he said the same."
Daotok rolled his eyes. "If you tell me, it won't be a surprise, will it?"
"True, never mind. How can it be a surprise when we already know what's coming?"
As they pulled into the racetrack, Daotok found himself observing the environment with curiosity. The area was bustling with energy, spectators filling the stands. Arthit, ever the center of attention, led him through the crowd with an air of nonchalance, his grip on Daotok's hand firm. They ascended to the VIP level, where Direk and North were waiting.
The anticipation built as the race neared. The stadium lights shone brilliantly against the dark sky, the roar of engines filling the night. As Arthit walked off to prepare, he turned to Daotok one last time.
"Watch for my victory," he said, voice thick with confidence. "And get ready to say yes."
Daotok couldn't help but smile at the assured demeanor of the man who had just left the room. Arthit carried a confidence that was impossible to ignore, a presence that commanded attention. As the door swung shut behind him, Daotok found himself alone with North, North's boyfriend Johan, and Direk, the weight of anticipation thick in the air.
"Aren't you going with him, Uncle?" North asked, curiosity laced in his tone.
"The racing prep zone doesn't allow outsiders," Direk replied, crossing his arms. "They're afraid someone might try something underhanded."
"True. It'd be bad if someone tampered with things or set traps," North nodded in agreement, his eyes flickering toward the track just as a murmur spread through the crowd. The first car had made its way onto the asphalt.
North and Daotok moved to the railing, their excitement mounting as the modified cars rolled out one by one. The sleek, high-performance vehicles looked nothing like their original stock models—each one customized to its owner's tastes and racing style.
"Looks like they can be modified however the racers want," Daotok mused.
"Yep, it's not an official race," North replied casually.
Daotok's gaze sharpened as a particular vehicle caught his attention. A black car, glossy under the floodlights, took its position on the track. His breath hitched slightly.
"What about the opponent's car?" he asked.
"The red one, I think. That guy, right? P' Joe?" North turned to confirm.
"Yeah."
"That one, on the right." North gestured toward the red car.
Daotok hummed in acknowledgment, his focus shifting entirely to the race as the starting signal blared. The engines roared to life, sending vibrations through the very ground they stood on. The moment the signal dropped, the black car surged forward, taking an immediate lead. But the red car wasn't far behind, quickly closing the gap.
The crowd erupted into cheers, a wave of excitement washing over the spectators. Daotok felt his pulse quicken, hands clenching as he leaned forward, unable to tear his eyes away from the high-speed battle.
"Damn," North muttered, watching in amazement. "How the hell do they even drift at that speed?"
Daotok remained speechless, finally understanding what everyone meant when they spoke of Arthit's racing prowess. He had heard the stories, but witnessing it firsthand was something else entirely. His heart pounded against his ribs as the black car executed a flawless drift, maintaining its momentum through the curve while the red car faltered slightly, losing precious seconds.
"He's amazing," Daotok whispered.
"Impressed?" North teased, nudging him playfully.
Daotok's lips curled into a soft smile. "Mm-hmm. He always finds ways to impress me."
With every passing second, Arthit widened the gap, his black car commanding the track with unshakable dominance. The roar of the engines, the flashing lights, the energy of the crowd—it all blended into a thrilling crescendo. And then, with one final push, Arthit crossed the finish line first.
"He won! He won!" North practically screamed, grabbing Daotok's hands and shaking them in sheer excitement.
Daotok was momentarily stunned before a bright, genuine smile spread across his face. He squeezed North's hands in return, unable to contain his joy. "He... he won!"
Direk stood quietly, his proud expression speaking volumes. Even Johan smirked slightly. "Of course, he was bound to win."
"Totally worth coming to cheer him on! And now he's getting a boyfriend too!" North added mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows at Daotok.
Heat rushed to Daotok's face, and he turned away, biting his lip. His gaze fell back to the track just as Arthit stepped out of his car, victorious. Even from afar, it was clear—Arthit was looking right at him. A knowing smirk played on his lips.
Daotok smiled back, a silent conversation passing between them. Congratulations... You're amazing.
As the cars began clearing the track, Daotok stayed by the balcony, relishing the lingering pride and warmth that filled his chest. But that warmth was quickly replaced by unease as time passed and Arthit didn't return.
"He's taking a long time," he remarked, shifting on his feet.
"Yeah, what's keeping him?" Direk frowned, pulling out his phone. "No answer."
North's boyfriend tensed. "What about the people who went to check on him?"
Before Direk could respond, two guards burst through the door, breathless.
"Sir... The young master is gone!"
Silence fell like a hammer. Daotok's stomach twisted violently.
"What did you say?" Direk's voice was dangerously low.
"One of our men saw him heading toward the restroom, but he never came back. We searched everywhere but found an emergency exit forced open."
Daotok's blood ran cold. His hands clenched at his sides as panic set in. Direk's phone rang, and he answered immediately. His usual warmth vanished, replaced by something dark and dangerous. The room grew thick with tension as he listened, his grip tightening on the phone until his knuckles turned white. And then, his voice dropped to a menacing growl.
"So, that's how you want to play?"
A pause. Then, sharper, colder—"Put my son on the phone. Now."
Whatever response he received only made his expression harden further.
"You won't get away with this."
The finality in his tone sent a chill down Daotok's spine. Direk ended the call and turned to his men, his next words making Daotok's breath hitch.
"Everyone, head to the abandoned warehouse to the north. Bring weapons and money. They claim they want to negotiate, but once we get my son back... kill them all."
The room exploded into movement. Commands were shouted, people scrambled. Direk's presence alone exuded a deadly promise of retribution.
"Jeff," he barked.
"Yes, sir!" The head bodyguard stepped forward.
"Take a team to the back entrance. This won't go exactly as planned, but there won't be too many of them. Don't underestimate them. What's our top priority?"
"The young master's safety, sir!"
"Good."
As Jeff left, Direk turned to Daotok. "You stay here. There's a minor emergency, but don't worry. Johan, look after my future daughter-in-law for me."
Daotok flinched, but before he could protest, Direk was gone.
The panic in Daotok's chest erupted. His hands shook as he turned to North.
"North... what do we do?"
"Dao, calm down."
"No, North. He's in danger. What—what if something happens to him?" Tears spilled before he could stop them. "I can't—I can't just stand here!"
North pulled him into a tight hug. "Trust me. P' Arthit isn't someone who goes down easily."
"But... but what if—"
"Listen to me. If he loves you, he'll fight to come back to you. You have to believe in him."
Daotok sobbed into North's shoulder, gripping him tightly.
Please... please come back to me, Arthit.