Arthit led Daotok into the bathroom, guiding him carefully as he insisted he could manage on his own. Daotok had convinced himself that his body had recovered enough, that the lingering soreness was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.
But the moment the warm water cascaded over his skin, exhaustion wrapped around him like a vice. His legs trembled, his back ached, and the dull pain in his hips pulsed sharply, reminding him of the strain he had endured.
He wouldn't call it forcing himself. He had wanted it, wanted Arthit just as much. But his body—his body had its limits.
After helping him dress, Arthit sat on the edge of the bed, pulling Daotok down until his head rested against his lap. The familiar warmth of his lover's body, the comforting scent of his skin, made the lingering discomfort fade into the background.
Daotok felt himself slipping in and out of sleep, fingers mindlessly toying with Arthit's hand, tracing over the lines in his palm. It was a quiet intimacy, the kind that filled his chest with an overwhelming sense of security.
He had never felt this before—not with Kram, not with anyone. Loving Kram had been painful, an ache he had endured but never fully embraced. Daotok had always held back, afraid of giving too much, knowing that betrayal lurked in the shadows. But with Arthit, it was different. He could trust him. He could give him everything without fear.
"You're extravagant," Daotok murmured sleepily, his voice barely above a whisper.
Arthit blinked down at him. "What?"
"Your palm lines," he explained, lifting a finger to trace the spaces where deep creases should have been. "You can't save money."
Arthit huffed a quiet laugh. "And you can tell that just by looking?"
"My grandma taught me," Daotok shrugged. "Though I don't remember much."
Arthit caught his hand, turning it over to inspect the lines himself. "What about you? What do your say?"
"That I'm good at saving."
Arthit scoffed. "Says who?"
"Palmistry." Daotok pointed to a faint line on his hand. "You don't have it, but I do."
"Sounds like an excuse," Arthit teased. "Why save money at all? If you earn it, you should spend it."
"And when an emergency comes up?"
"That just means you're not rich enough," Arthit said smugly. "Take Johan—his savings are just money he hasn't spent yet."
Daotok rolled his eyes. "You'll be rich soon. World-class artist and all."
"You're good at flattering me," Arthit smirked. "Are you angling for a reward?"
Daotok tilted his head back, lips curving into a lazy smile. "Yes."
Arthit leaned down, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Heat bloomed in Daotok's chest, and the weight of sleep pressed heavier on his eyelids. He barely had the energy to whisper, "If you're tired, rest."
"Okay," he mumbled. "But don't do anything weird."
Arthit chuckled, voice dark and rich. "Weird? Whatever I do with you isn't weird to me."
Daotok had no response. He simply closed his eyes, allowing exhaustion to pull him under.
☆☆☆☆☆
A sudden shift behind him pulled Daotok from the depths of sleep. The room was dark, silent except for the steady breathing near his ear. Before he could fully wake, a warm hand ghosted over the sensitive skin at his groin.
His breath hitched, and he stiffened, barely suppressing a gasp. The hand didn't stop.
"Arthit—"
Teeth grazed his earlobe, hot breath sending shivers down his spine. His body tensed as he felt the hard length pressing against his lower back, unmistakable even in the dark.
"What... again?" he breathed, half protest, half anticipation.
A low chuckle vibrated against his skin. "You call me a pervert," Arthit murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers curled around Daotok's growing length, stroking him at an unhurried pace. "But look at you."
Daotok bit his lip, hips jerking involuntarily. The soreness still lingered, but pleasure seeped into his veins, fogging his thoughts. His stomach tightened, muscles coiling as the heat spread through his body. "Ahh... not so fast..."
Arthit ignored him, setting a torturous rhythm, his other hand slipping down to his own arousal. He pressed against Daotok's inner thighs, moving against him in slow, deliberate thrusts.
Daotok gasped, voice breaking as his body betrayed him, pushing back to meet the teasing friction. "You—hngh—you said... you wouldn't—"
"I won't put it in," Arthit reassured, though his voice was strained, laced with need. "Even though I want to."
Daotok barely processed the words. All he could focus on was the heat between them, the slick pressure of Arthit's movements, the way his body ached for more despite the soreness. His nails dug into the sheets, pleasure crashing over him in waves.
A sharp gasp escaped him as he came, his release spilling over Arthit's hand. His body trembled, breaths coming in short, shallow pants. He felt the slick heat of Arthit's climax follow moments later, warm and sticky against his skin.
They lay there, breathless, bodies tangled in the sheets. Arthit traced lazy circles on Daotok's hip, his voice a low rumble against his ear. "Your face is telling me you want me to put it in."
Daotok swallowed, cheeks burning. He said nothing, only pressing closer.
Arthit smirked. "Hurry up and get better," he whispered. "I want you so bad."
Daotok turned, capturing his lips in another slow kiss. His heart pounded wildly in his chest.
He wasn't the only one addicted.
☆☆☆☆☆
The sound of voices woke him the next morning. He squinted against the sunlight, blinking blearily at the figure seated beside him.
"Ter?"
"You're awake?" Easter asked, raising a brow.
Daotok's arm was wrapped loosely around Easter's waist, and he quickly retracted it, sitting up in confusion. "Why are you here?"
Before Easter could respond, the door opened, and Typhoon walked in carrying Khun Jeon, followed by North.
"The doctors were called away," North explained. "P' Arthit told us to stay with you."
Daotok nodded, his mind still sluggish with sleep. "What time is it?"
"Half-past ten," Typhoon replied. "Hungry yet?"
"I'm fine. Have you all eaten?"
"We have," Easter said. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore, but managing."
Easter and Typhoon exchanged awkward glances, while North smirked.
"See? I told you he wouldn't be embarrassed."
"Embarrassed about what?" Daotok asked suspiciously.
North grinned. "When P'Arthit called, he told us you were too sore to get up. He didn't say why, but I think we all know."
Daotok's face burned as North gestured vaguely toward the faint red marks on his neck. "Wow," he mused, shaking his head. "P' Arthit really didn't hold back, huh?"
Daotok groaned, rubbing at his tender skin. Before he could respond, Easter, sitting across the room, raised a hand to cover his mouth, failing to stifle his laughter. His eyes crinkled with amusement as he turned away.
"Why am I not embarrassed, but you two are?"
Ignoring the teasing, Daotok reached out, carefully lifting his cat from his lap. "Cat, can you hold Khun Jeon for me?" He passed the feline to Typhoon, intending to head to the bathroom. However, the moment he tried to move, sharp pain shot through his body, making him freeze in place.
North immediately noticed. "What are you doing?"
"Going to the bathroom," Daotok muttered, exhaling slowly through the discomfort.
"Alright, I'll help."
"No need."
North gave him a pointed look. "Look at yourself first. Give me your arm."
Without waiting for permission, he grabbed Daotok's arm and slung it over his shoulder, lifting him gently. "Can you walk like this?"
"Yeah, thanks. Sorry, I'm heavy."
"Not as heavy as Ter."
"I'm not heavy!" Easter protested immediately from across the room.
North snorted. "Who said that? P' Hill?" He guided Daotok toward the bathroom, shooting Easter a playful glance. "Honestly, P' Hill probably thinks you're heavy but just doesn't say it. He's probably wondering, 'Is this my boyfriend or a pig? Did he swallow an elephant?'"
Easter gasped dramatically. "You're such a jerk! Are you guys okay in there, or should I help?"
"We've got it!" North called back, helping Daotok onto the toilet before respectfully turning his back.
"You okay?"
Daotok sighed. "Getting there."
"Press it down so it doesn't splash everywhere."
Daotok narrowed his eyes. "North..."
"What?"
"I feel weird having everyone take care of me."
North shrugged, leaning casually against the sink. "It's fine. We're free today. It's Sunday; nothing else to do."
A few minutes later, North helped him back to bed. As he got settled, Typhoon clapped his hands excitedly. "Oh, by the way, Dao, we listened to P' Arthit's song and shared it too! The part with your picture in the clip is so cute. The song is amazing."
Daotok felt a surge of pride. "That song was written for me."
"Yeah, and he keeps complimenting himself about it too," Easter quipped.
"Well, he doesn't leave room for anyone else to praise him," North chimed in.
"North, have you listened to it?"
"Of course, how could I miss it? He even made me share it. But honestly, it's really good. I didn't realize he had this talent, even after knowing him for years." North puffed out his chest. "It's almost at a hundred thousand views now, isn't it?"
"It passed a hundred thousand," Easter added. "I just checked."
"Probably a hundred of those views are mine," Typhoon admitted sheepishly. "I genuinely love it."
Easter scrolled through YouTube comments. "Once people found out the song was made for his boyfriend, they started sharing your socials like crazy. 'The singer is so handsome, and his boyfriend is super cute.' There are so many English comments too. Maybe because P' Arthit used the name Dylan, people think he's international."
Daotok nodded. "Yeah."
"He's using his mom's surname, right?" North asked.
Another nod.
"Such a cool name. It's annoying," North grumbled. "He looks cool on the outside, but once you get to know him..."
"Why?" Typhoon asked curiously.
"Because he's an ass, that's why. Oh, and speaking of food, you haven't eaten anything yet, right? Should we order something?"
"I bought some," Easter said, placing a bag of boxed meals on the table. "I got extra just in case."
"For me?"
"For myself, but you can have it."
"Won't you be hungry?"
"It's fine. It's almost noon. I'll order more then."
"Alright, thanks." Daotok took the meal, opening it to eat in bed.
North leaned back. "So, when are you moving to the new condo?"
"Hm? Oh, not sure, but it seems like he's ready to move."
"Moving is a good idea. Every time I come over, I have to think twice because of this haunted room vibe. It's creepy," North said, shuddering.
"Honestly, even now, I don't feel great. I've got chills up my spine for no reason."
"You're just scared," Typhoon teased.
"Easy for someone who's not afraid to say that!"
"So, what should we do? Just sitting around is boring."
"Let's play a game?"
"No way, I'm not playing with you," Easter quickly shot down North's suggestion. "You always insult me."
"Because you suck."
"I just don't play often. You could teach me properly instead!"
"Fine, fine. I won't insult you. I'll carry the team myself," North shrugged, pulling out his phone. "If Typhoon plays tank, I can carry this game. Ready to join, Phoon?"
"Of course! I've been practicing; you'll be amazed."
"Yeah, right. I can't wait to be amazed," North retorted.
As they logged into their mobile MOBA game, chaos erupted. Shouting, laughing, and competitive banter filled the room.
"Phoon, I'm actually amazed. Wow. You missed every skill shot. I'd love to hold your hand and play for you."
"Hey, I miscalculated! Cut me some slack!"
"Ter, why are you just standing there? Do something useful!"
"You said you wouldn't insult me!"
"I said it, and I'm saying it again!"
"Fine, I'm moving! Running now!"
"The random jungler sucks so bad. Seriously, stealing my role and now dying three times already. Is he a spy for the enemy team?" North groaned, his voice sharp with irritation. "Typhoon, you're no better. Did someone bribe you to throw the game? How much were you paid? Tell me now!"
"I didn't! They're targeting me! See, they're attacking me again!" Typhoon protested, the sound of his character taking damage echoing in the background.
"Protect me!" Daotok shouted as he maneuvered his tank forward, soaking up as much damage as he could.
"Protect you? No way. Forget about Phoon; he's useless. Let him die alone. He's worse than the minions. Honestly, it's painful to watch," North mocked, making both Easter and Easter burst into laughter.
"I do have skills, you know!" Typhoon shot back indignantly.
"Yeah? Then why are your attacks so weak? What are you holding, a spear or a toothpick?" North continued to tease, making Easter snort.
"It's my passive skill. Whatever hero I pick, my attacks are strong," North added smugly.
"Look at what you're building. I've told you not to pick that armor!" Daotok interjected, noticing the questionable item choices on his teammate's screen.
"What? When did I build that? Should I sell it?"
"No, just leave it. Save up and replace it later. Phoon, can you stand farther back? You're supposed to cast spells, not run into enemies."
"You slapped me! Are you crazy? Just use your long-range skills properly!"
North yelled.
"Alright, alright! Geez, so much pressure playing with a pro player!"
Daotok shot back sarcastically.
The game raged on, filled with the usual bickering and chaotic teamwork.
Ghost Rider, their tank, was holding the frontlines like an impenetrable wall, taking in damage like a human shield.
"Good thing you're the tank, Ghost. Once, we let Ter play tank, and it was like jelly. Squishy as hell, a tap and he was dead. Dumb as a rock too," North reminisced, sending the group into another round of laughter.
"Why do you always insult me?!" Easter whined.
"He roasts me too. Ter, watch out for the jungle below," Daotok warned.
"Got it, retreating. Damn, there are like eight of them!"
"Typhoon, get ready to charge in!"
"Okay!"
They barely scraped through the match, with North leading in kills and damage dealt. As the post-game screen flashed on, North continued his usual trash talk about the enemy team while the rest of them caught their breath.
Just then, North suddenly perked up. "Oh hey, Dao, your husband is online."
Daotok blinked, his fingers hesitating over the screen as he noticed Arthit's ID pop up in his friend list. Almost immediately, an invite came through.
North wasted no time and quickly typed in the chat:
[NORTH]: Why are you playing? Thought you had to go to the faculty?
[ARTHIT]: Waiting for the professor. My boyfriend wasn't replying to my chat, so I figured he might be gaming with you.
[NORTH]: Oh, and what about P'Joe?
[ARTHIT]: He's here, ogling at some girl's chest.
[NORTH]: Tell P'Joe to share with North.
[NORTH]: Just kidding, don't actually tell him. LOL.
[ARTHIT]: You idiot.
Daotok sighed as he accepted Arthit's invite. Soon, they were queued up for another game, this time with a proper team composition. Arthit, as always, took the assassin role, swiftly replacing their previous underperforming jungler.
The game started smoothly, except Arthit kept hovering around Daotok's lane instead of supporting other areas of the map.
"Why doesn't P'Arthit come to my lane? The enemy jungler is always here, but mine never shows up!" Ter whined.
"He's prioritizing his boyfriend, even in the game! Ter's getting destroyed over there, and he's not even helping. Someone tell him to assist Ter!"
[DAOTOK]: Help Ter.
[ARTHIT]: I don't interfere with my friend's boyfriend.
"You idiot!" North shouted between laughter. "Seriously? Just let the offlane die?"
Daotok sighed, watching as Arthit continued to play overprotectively. When a team fight erupted, instead of doing his usual assassin role, Arthit dove in recklessly, taking unnecessary hits to shield Daotok.
"Why is Arthit so hell-bent on chasing down the enemy mage? He went all the way under their tower! Did they have a feud in a past life or something?" Easter asked, amused. "It's because their mage killed Dao earlier," Easter added, making North laugh even harder.
"Damn, protecting even in the game. I swear, this guy would rather die himself than let anyone touch Dao. He'd probably trade places with Dao if he could!"
As much as Daotok wanted to argue, he couldn't deny it. Arthit's behavior was completely out of character for his usual playstyle.
After the match ended in victory, Daotok barely had time to process everything before his phone rang. He fumbled for a second before answering.
"Why aren't you replying to my messages?" Arthit's voice came through.
"We were just gaming together a moment ago."
"What about before that?"
"I just woke up."
"Oh, how are you feeling?"
"Better now."
"Good. I already helped you shower and applied the ointment before I left."
Daotok's ears burned at the reminder. "Yeah. What are you doing now?"
"Waiting for the professor. Should be heading back soon. Did you miss me?"
"Oh, by the way, about the game earlier—"
"Why are you ignoring my 'did you miss me'?"
Daotok ignored him. "You didn't play properly. You're an assassin with barely any health, and you're tanking damage. What kind of jungler does that?"
"Well, you're my boyfriend. How could I let my boyfriend die?"
"You could've. I'm a tank; I can die. Carries like North shouldn't die. Why didn't you help him instead?"
"Let him die. He's a useless carry."
Daotok exhaled in exasperation. "If North dies, the team loses damage. It's a big disadvantage. Carries are more important."
"Don't start with 'who's more important.' To me, you're the most important."
Daotok fell silent. Arthit always had a way of making his heart race, even over something as ridiculous as a mobile game.
Sigh.