Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arthit waved to his friends as he strutted into the cafeteria, scanning for their usual table. He spotted Knot, Tootah, and Prem lounging around adorn their newly bought maroon blazer, marking the start of their engineering days as second years, no longer as freshmen.

As he neared the table, his friends are currently halfway in their snacks. Honestly, he'd been starving since earlier this morning-thanks to waking up late again. He'd sworn to never let it happen and promised himself he'd get up at least 15 minutes earlier, like a normal person. But no, another disappointment.

Now he was hungry, annoyed, and to top it off, their professor had the nerve to assign an essay on the first day. He was expecting a light orientation, not a pain in the ass.

"Hey Arthit, how was the break?" Knot asked, high-fiving him as he arrived, noticing the grumpy, tired look on his face. Arthit had been friends with Knot since forever-back in high school and now in college, still in the same Faculty of Engineering but in different departments, Arthit in Industrial, Knot in Mechanical.

The cafeteria was packed, the usual midday chaos unfolding as students rushed to grab their meals before everything ran out. Trays clattered, voices overlapped, and the smell of stir-fried something filled the air. Their group had managed to snag a spot on the far side of the room, tucked away from the lines that snaked through the food stalls.

Arthit sat with his tray, quietly relieved that he'd managed to get the last pieces of his food. Small victories, he thought, poking at the lukewarm fish cake. At least something's going right today.

"Eventful and fun. If bed-rotting all day counts," Arthit replied dryly, pushing his food in the table-pink milk and now five pieces of Tod Mun Pla Krai instead of six, just in time for Bright, who had just shown up, to snatch one.

"Bright! Go get your own!" Arthit scowled, swatting at Bright's hand as he reached in for a second grab.

"It tastes better when it's stolen, you know," Bright replied, already munching with smug satisfaction as he sat next to Knot.

Tootah snorted without looking up from his phone, typing away, while Prem kept scrolling through social media. Knot continues to eat his food while Arthit takes a sip of his favorite milk. Then, suddenly, Prem lifted his head with a dramatic sigh.

"I can't believe it, guys," he said, looking almost heartbroken. Arthit sighed thinking his friend was at it again.

"What?" they all asked in unison, just as Tootah dramatically reached over and patted Prem's head like a concerned parent, already predicting the direction of the random conversation.

"Ugh, Prem and his old man thoughts. He's at it again," Tootah muttered, as the rest of them sighed in anticipation.

"Guys, I just can't believe it-we're already second-year engineering students. And the next thing you know, we'll be in third year, then fourth, then... graduation," Prem said with exaggerated despair, his voice trailing off like he was narrating a tragedy.

Arthit and the rest just throw their amused smiles, used to this by now. Prem had always been like this.

"You know, I'll look forward to that after I graduate. For now, I just want to enjoy things, you know?" Knot said, finishing off his iced Americano.

Arthit winced a little, he could never stand that stuff. Black coffee was basically battery acid. A latte, maybe-at least that had some creaminess to it. How could people drink that stuff voluntarily? It was like punishing your tongue for no reason.

"Yeah, enjoy the cruel engineering program while we crawl through it every single day," Arthit muttered, cutting the sentimental mood with a scowl. Seriously, what was there to enjoy? A backbreaking workload, professors who spoke like machines, and sleep schedules that practically didn't exist.

"You know what we should be enjoying?" Bright grinned, eyes scanning the cafeteria. "The freshies, alright!"

Arthit rolled his eyes. Of course. Trust Bright to steer the conversation straight into girl territory. Again. Like clockwork.

He was already on the lookout, eyeing the new girls from yesterday's orientation like a wolf in the wild. Suddenly, a group of freshmen girls walked into the cafeteria, scanning for seats, when Bright practically leapt from his chair and waved like a windmill caught in a storm.

"Bright, she's not even looking at you." Prem noted

Bright, already halfway into a smug smile, sat up straighter. "She will. Just watch. I'll show you my charming side."

Across the table, Arthit sipped his drink and tried not to roll his eyes.

"She's not," Prem added helpfully, tossing a fry into his mouth.

"Shut up," Bright muttered, but his eyes were still locked on the girl across the room.

Arthit looked up from his iced coffee just in time to see Bright attempt a wink. The girl furrowed her eyebrows.

"Well, that backfired," Knot said.

"Maybe she just didn't see me," Bright said, clinging to the last threads of hope.

Arthit shook his head. "She saw you. We all saw you."

"Okay, but in my defense, I didn't have time to prepare-"

Still, the girls approached, Bright straightened his collar and leaned on the table like he was posing for a magazine cover. "Ladies," he said, flashing his trademark grin. "If you're looking for the perfect seat, might I suggest right here-next to the school's most eligible bachelor?"

One of the girls blinked. "Oh. We're actually just looking for somewhere with... less noise."

The table snorted with laughter. Arthit couldn't help but shift his attention from his food to the unfolding scene.

"Ouch," Tootah cackled. "That's a foul." as he repeatedly smacks the table along with his laughter.

Bright placed a hand over his heart, mock-wounded and whispered to his friends. "You're all just jealous. They're trying to play hard to get."

Tootah leaned in with a grin. "Yeah, sure and cows can fly"

"Um... excuse me," she said softly. "Can I have your socials, P'...?"

Bright, already halfway into a smug smile, sat up straighter. "Of course! I knew it. See, boys? Some of them know quality when they see it-"

"Oh, no, not you," the girl interrupted, turning her gaze to the other side of the table. "I meant... you."

She was pointing directly at Arthit.

Silence fell over the table like a bomb had gone off. Bright's jaw dropped. Prem dropped his fry. Tootah looked like he was about to scream.

Arthit blinked. "Uh... sure?"

She handed him her phone with a shy smile. He typed in his name, still trying to process what was happening.

"Thank you!" she said. "I'll add you later, okay?"

Arthit, still looking horrified, nodded and managed to give his socials anyway, not wanting to embarrass the girl. But what they don't know is that he's really not into social media unless there's something important or if he's bored. After that, the group of freshmen walked off, seemingly realizing the seniors were still in the middle of their chaos.

"WHAT JUST HAPPENED," Prem screamed.

Tootah already laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bench. "That's it! Bright's out, Arthit's in!"

Even Knot was chuckling, while Bright's face morphed from smug to blindsided.

Bright sulked into his drink. "This cafeteria is cursed."

"No, just admit you're not as charming as Arthit," Tootah teased, watching the girl glance back at their table one last time.

Arthit stared at his drink. "I'm so confused." Sure, he knew he had some charm-natural, inherited, and very well-maintained charm, thank you very much. His parents didn't give him much, but they did give him the face, and he wasn't complaining.

But usually, there was at least a bit of work involved. A little teasing, some banter, a few smart comments here and there before a girl would hand over her number.

"I just don't get it! Arthit looks grumpy all the time and drinks pink milk!" Bright lamented, sliding lower into his seat, clearly defeated.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean? I'll have you know, I'm a pretty good-looking guy," Arthit replied, smugly brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves. It wasn't often he'd admit it-but this was the perfect opportunity to throw it out there.

"Well, Arthit and I went to the same high school," Knot added, nudging Arthit's shoulder. "This guy was a little up there"

Arthit paused. "What?! Knot! I was not."

Knot snorted. "Bro, don't act like you didn't know."

"I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about."

Knot leaned in, smirking. "Don't play innocent. Back in high school? Everyone knew you."

"Yeah, for being grumpy... and also 'cause I was pretty much playing every sport back then."

"No, for being cute-which is exactly what happened when you played every sport just because they needed 'a guy.' Or when you'd stand by the window reading comics disguised as textbooks, looking like a responsible student."

Arthit choked on his drink, cheeks turning pink.

Prem cackled. "The way you almost died just now-"

"Shut up!" Arthit coughed, glaring.

He had known a lot of people back then, but he mostly kept to himself. He maintained a certain distance with the others, only really getting close to one person-Knot.

"Well it clicks, I'm picturing you just now like a mysterious upperclassman vibe," Tootah added. "Brooding, active, secretly smart."

"Sounds fake," Arthit muttered, cheeks warm.

Bright grinned. "So you're telling me, in all four years of high school, no one confessed to you?"

Arthit hesitated. A beat too long.

"Aha!" Bright pointed. "He's hiding something!"

"I'm not-"

"Come on, spill!"

Arthit sighed. "There might've been... a few."

"Wait, wait-how many?" Bright asked, eyes gleaming.

"I don't remember," Arthit lied. Yes he remembered every one of them, but not all of those ended with a good note.

"Bullshit," Knot said. "You remember."

"Okay, like... five?" Arthit lied just for the sake of it.

"FIVE?" Bright clutched his chest. "I'm offended. I thought we were equals."

"We're not," Arthit said quite too fast, and Bright looked offended.

Bright pouted. "Rude."

"That's exactly why you were popular, Arthit," Knot laughed. "You ignored every living human being and spent your life revolving around comics."

"Oh-ho, is that true?" Prem leaned in. "Arthit, you messed up. How could you not know?"

"Well, almost every class had someone crushing on Arthit. And this guy right here didn't give a damn-except about his comics."

Arthit sat frozen, completely overwhelmed by the unexpected revelation. He had always thought his high school life was decent, just comics and a few close friends. But apparently, if he had only been more aware, he might not be a single dog today.

"That sucks, Knot. You should've told me."

Arthit slouched at the table, deep in life contemplation, while Prem patted his back, laughing at his misfortune.

"Hey, I was busy with my boyfriend at the time, you know," Knot replied, sipping his coffee. "Besides, I did hint at you-but nooo, comics."

Bright, now more animated, spluttered in surprise. "Wait, wait, hold up. Knot, you had a boyfriend? I thought we were all in this together-single dogs forever!"

Knot scoffed, as Bright ignored his failed attempt from earlier to get out of the single dogs group.

"Don't include me in that," Tootah chimed in, not even looking up from his phone. "I'm not single."

"No way! You too, Tootah?!" Bright turned so fast he nearly sprained his neck.

"Yes way. In fact, I've got a date later," Tootah replied smugly, flashing his phone's messages in Bright's face.

Bright covered his eyes with both hands, pretending to wipe away fake tears.

"Wait... I love how none of you even blinked at Knot having a boyfriend. I thought he was into girls. I love our open-minded friendship," Prem said, beaming with pride as he held up the little pride flag pinned to his bag like it was a trophy.

Prem's eyes sparkled with that trademark earnestness, and Arthit couldn't help but smile at how unapologetically sincere he was. Of course, Prem would parade that flag like it was a medal of honor.

"Prem! Stop being a sap, we all know that," everyone groaned in unison.

The cafeteria buzzed softly around them - trays clanked, chatter floated, and the hum of the air conditioning battled the heat of the day.

Arthit, meanwhile, was fiddling with the straw of his drink, eyes darting between his friends.

"Yeah, Tootah's been our friend since what?" he added, voice dry but amused. But continued to think through Knot's revelation from earlier. Seriously, what did I even have going for me back then?

"But hey! at least I'm not the only single dog here, right?" Bright said, clapping Arthit on the back with a grin that was all easy confidence, no hint of pity.

"Bright... don't think I didn't notice you ate my last piece of fish cake," Arthit growled, turning toward him with a dark glare that was mostly for show.

Bright's grin faltered for a second, eyes going wide like he'd just been caught red-handed.
"Wait! I'll buy you another one! Please don't-" He braced himself, half expecting a shove or a punch.

But after a beat, he peeked at Arthit again, who just kept staring, expression unreadable but eyes sharp. Then-bam-a punch landed. Ouch.

Bright rubbed his arm, wincing, before suddenly switching gears and turning to Knot.
"So... where's your boyfriend now?"

Knot shrugged casually. "Oh, we broke up. I graduated and he was a year below us."

Bright spluttered, clearly expecting more juicy details. It's not often his friends have anything to report about their love lives, and he was disappointed Knot's story was so... plain.

"That's it?" Bright asked, disbelief dripping from his voice. "Boring," Bright continued to muttered, but then a sly grin spread across his face. "What if he's one of the first years that enrolled in our school, huh? You sly fox, now you can continue your love story-oh oh oh!" He poked Knot in the chest playfully.

Knot grabbed Bright's hand firmly. "Stop being so invested. That was a long time ago. Cut it out. Let fate decide that for me."

"Psh," Bright scoffed. While Arthit watched the banter with a dry smile, secretly thankful for the distraction.

"Speak for yourself, Bright," Prem chimed in, smirking. "Let fate decide yours-don't push too hard."

"Thanks for the advice, but I'd rather control my own," Bright said, smirking with determination.

"Yeah and good luck with that control, 'cause judging from earlier, your control pretty sucks," Tootah snorted at Bright while Bright shot him a glare. The others cracked up.

Arthit's earlier mood had evaporated, drowned out by his friends' antics. Arthit leaned back in his chair, letting the noise of the cafeteria wash over him. Despite Bright's antics, it was nice to be back. Familiar. Loud.

He caught snippets of other conversations-freshmen nervously chatting, seniors already planning their thesis defenses. It felt like the start of something, even if he didn't know what.

"Guys, I have to go-" Arthit started, but Knot cut in.

"Wait, Arthit, remember the hazing committee? We volunteered to help the 3rd years with orientation later."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll just finish the essay real quick," he replied, already mentally scheduling the rest of his day.

Arthit went back to his dorm and got back to studying, and after two hours of grueling work and researching and actually making the essay his professor asked for-he decided to take a little study break to clear his head. He debated between taking a nap or scrolling through social media, but chose the latter, he wasn't too confident he'd wake up on time.

He jumped onto the bed, stared at the ceiling for a while, then turned his eyes toward his phone charging at the bedside table and pulled it over.

"Let's see what we got here." Arthit scrolled through his social media, browsing through his college's freedom wall. He figured a quick scroll wouldn't hurt before heading back to campus to help his seniors with the hazing committee.

Their college still kept the usual tradition of hazing, what they called SOTUS, to build tight bonds within the department. In their university, it was a pretty serious tradition to uphold. He honestly didn't want to volunteer, but his senior or his head hazer back in his own batch pushed him into doing it. And since he didn't want to be stuck doing it alone, he kinda pushed his own friends into joining, too. Fair game.

As he scrolled absentmindedly through random posts, memes, and anonymous confessions, and even confirmed the freshmen earlier, a sudden soft ding vibrated from his phone, snapping him out of his trance.

[1 friend request]

The notification slid across the top of the screen. Curious, Arthit tapped it. The screen loaded slowly, and then the name popped up.

"Kongpob S."

Arthit blinked, sitting up slightly. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it right away. It felt like he knew the guy from somewhere. He tapped on the profile, but the person didn't have a profile picture or a cover photo-nothing that helped him figure out who it was.

It was as if this person made a Facebook account for one purpose only-and it wasn't to socialize.

He noticed they had a mutual friend: Knot. Arthit raised an eyebrow, wondering why Knot was friends with this person. Then, as he looked closer, he saw the guy also went to his old high school.

Wait-Suddenly it clicked.

Is he... that Kongpob? The one who was always with Knot's boyfriend back in high school whenever they visited their classroom? That quiet one who always stood at the back like he was off in his own little world? That kinda scrawny kid?

Oh ho. Interesting. As much as he wanted to remember, he couldn't quite recall the guy's face. He encounters many guys during his high school.

He sat there, amused, remembering those high school days. How Knot and his boyfriend used to meet up in the hallways, and how Kongpob and their other friend always tagged along quietly. Not that he cared much at the time.

Well, since Knot was friends with him, might as well confirm. There's nothing wrong with that.

Arthit tapped the Confirm button and tossed his phone onto the bed before getting up to prepare for today's hazing orientation and putting the whole ordeal at the back of his mind.

"Name?"

Back at campus, Arthit was now in charge of first-year attendance. Knot sat beside him, tossing name tags his way while Arthit focused on checking names on the list. His neck was starting to ache from staring down for so long.

"Supaporn Rattanakosin."

"Next," Arthit muttered, placing a checkmark beside her name and locating the student ID number. He passed the info to Knot, looked up-

Thud. Arthit just heard his own heartbeat. Well, as he also dropped his pen in the ground.

"Kongpob Suthiluck."

Arthit blinked, startled.

In front of him stood a tall, good-looking guy who practically radiated sunshine. Dark-skinned, confident posture, smile so bright Arthit swore it dried out his eyeballs.

He gulped. Wait-isn't this the same Kongpob who just added me?

Now that he was seeing him up close, he couldn't help but wonder why someone with a face like that didn't bother putting up a profile picture. If he had, Arthit was sure he'd be drowning in girls right now.

But more than that, was this really the same scrawny kid from high school? Because this version of Kongpob looked completely different. Taller, more mature, more... everything. But then again, his image of Kongpob back then is blurry in his memory.

Before he could say anything, Knot suddenly stood up and gave Kongpob a high five.

What? Since when were they this close?

Arthit couldn't recall a single moment in high school when they acted like this. Then again, Knot's eyes were usually glued to his boyfriend back then. And adding the fact that he just don't care at that time.

Knot nudged him hard. Arthit snapped out of his daze, realizing he had been staring a little too long. Embarrassed, he stood up and extended his hand.

"Kongpob! You didn't tell me you were taking Engineering here!" Knot said with a wide grin, as he put his arms around Kongpob's shoulders. Arthit couldn't help but be a little surprised-Kongpob didn't look small standing next to Knot, and that guy practically lives in the gym.

"Hello, P'Arthit. Nice to meet you," Kongpob said, shaking Arthit's hand-but his eyes were fixed on Arthit's, not Knot's. Knot shakes his head, amused by his junior's antics.

The stare was too steady, too intense. Arthit felt heat crawl up his neck. He awkwardly cleared his throat and glanced at Knot.

"Uh... well, hello too, Kongpob. Looks like you'll be my junior here," he managed with a nervous smile. Give him a break. He didn't even talk to Kongpob back then, just nodded, smiled occasionally, maybe exchanged a few awkward chats.

Back then, Kongpob was quiet, always off in his own world. But the guy standing here now felt like someone completely different and it was throwing Arthit off more than he liked.

Knot shot him a look that look. The teasing one. Arthit glared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing, Arthit," Knot said, grinning like a cat.

"Oh! Kongpob, here's your name tag. We'll see you inside later. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask either of us, alright?"

"Thanks, P'Knot. I'll keep that in mind," Kongpob said, before turning to Arthit again.

"I'm looking forward to learning a lot from you, P'Arthit."

Arthit blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. Maybe even a little... flustered.

Kongpob walked off, and Arthit had no time to dwell on the moment because the next student in line had already stepped forward.

But he could still feel Knot's teasing smirk burning beside him.

"Knot, not now, please."

"I didn't say anything."

And just like that, they went back to work, but Arthit couldn't shake the question-how exactly was Knot so close with Kongpob? And why was Knot giving him that teasing smile, the one he always got whenever some girl showed interest in him? No way, Kongpob was definitely straight.

As Arthit focused on his attendance duty, his mind kept drifting, comparing Kongpob then and now. To him, Kongpob was still just Knot's boyfriend's cousin-the quiet kid with a crush on Fon, that cute girl in their class.

The harder he tried to focus, the more his thoughts tangled around Kongpob. How much he'd changed, how weirdly complicated this all felt. Before he knew it, Arthit was rewinding back to their old conversations, back when things were simpler and it was all just high school.

"First day of my 2nd year, and I'm already rethinking my life choices. Classic."

Chapter Text

"Arthit! Someone's looking for Knot!"

Arthit sighed like his life had just been interrupted mid–action scene by an ad break. The jam-packed explosion of drama from his latest comic issue screeched to a halt in his head.

His eyes dragged themselves upward from the textbook he was definitely not hiding a comic inside. Squinting back into the harsh light of the real world, he spotted a younger student at the classroom door, peeking in with all the confidence of a lost puppy sniffing for its owner. Behind him stood another boy, hands in his pockets.

Probably a third year.

Knot, where the hell did you go again? Arthit thought with a sigh, vaguely recalling something about a teacher needing him for class rep duties. Boring things Arthit had no business remembering.

Still, since Knot was his best friend and basically his conjoined twin at this point, all "Where's Knot?" inquiries inevitably landed on Arthit's desk.

He stood up from his seat in the back corner, eyes still glued to the pivotal mid-panel plot twist. As he shuffled toward the door, he marked the page with his finger.

"He's not here," he muttered without looking up. "Teacher called him."

"Thanks, P'Arthit. We'll wait for P'Knot a bit, then."

That made him glance up.

The student grinned at him—wide, earnest, and with too many teeth—like he'd just found his tour guide after getting lost on a field trip. Arthit blinked.

Frowning now, he asked, "You know me?"

"Well, you're our senior, and you're always with P'Knot, and you play basketball... So it's natural to know you, P'."

"Oh." Arthit blinked again, slightly thrown off by the answer. Sure, logical answer but he's not even part of the basketball players' line up.

Then he noticed the other one—the silent kid—looking straight at him.

Correction: Frowning straight at him.

His hands had come out of his pockets, and his eyes were boring a hole into Arthit's head like he was trying to x-ray his skull.

Up close, he was definitely good-looking, in that clean, model-student kind of way. But that scowl? Total downgrade.

Arthit clicked his tongue. What's his problem? He's sure he has never met this kid before, let alone offend him.

As much as he'd love to return the favor with equal intensity, Arthit opted for the high road. He wasn't a fan of unnecessary interaction. Not because he was rude—okay, maybe a little—but mostly because he never knew what to say to people he didn't usually talk to.

So he let it go. Didn't even bother asking for the first kid's name.

"Then I'll go back inside," he said flatly, already turning around.

He paused, just for a second, watching them walk off—well, one of them. The grinning puppy followed through, heading toward the end of the hall. But the frowner? Still there.

Still standing and staring.

Arthit narrowed his eyes. What now?

He looked neat, too. Not a wrinkle on his uniform. Collar buttoned. Tie snug. Shoes gleaming. Like a walking school's code of conduct.

Arthit, meanwhile, had two buttons undone, his tie hanging like a tired noodle, and socks that definitely didn't match.

Now it makes sense, is he bothered with what I look like?

Their eyes met—briefly. A flicker. A blink-and-miss-it moment, and Arthit swears for a brief second he wants to say something but decides against it.

Then the boy looked away, as if the whole stare-down didn't just happen, and followed his friend out of view.

Arthit blinked, dazed. What the hell was that?

Back at his seat, he finally noticed his tie dangling. He yanked it up with a grimace and flopped back into his chair, flipping open his comic again like nothing happened.

But he casually—very casually—peeked out the window toward the hallway.

They were still there. Waiting for Knot, just like they said.

But what he didn't expect—and definitely didn't want to admit startled him—was that same pair of eyes already looking back.

Arthit flinched. Hard. Looked away so fast he nearly dislocated something. What the hell?! Is that guy seriously asking for a fight? Who just stares at a senior like that?!

He ground his teeth. Who does he think he is? Just standing there like he owns the corridor?

Arthit muttered something under his breath and resisted the urge to glare back. He wasn't about to start a silent death match over hallway eye contact. That was beneath him.

He was going to be a bigger person. He was mature. Cool. Chill.

...And now he was very invested in why the hell that underclassman was looking for his best friend.

—

Annoyingly, Knot was being weirdly secretive about it. It was the end of the day, and Arthit had been pestering him nonstop since lunch.

"I promised I'd tell you... sometime," Knot said, evasive as ever.

"Sometime? What is it? Is he your long-lost twin or something?"

Knot blinked. "...No."

They were walking down the stairs when Arthit threw out another guess, half-joking, half-annoyed.

"Wait... is he your half-brother or something?"

Knot gave him a flat look. "Still no."

Before Arthit could fire off another theory, a voice called from the gate below.

"P'Knot!"

"Oh, they're here again?" Arthit asked, squinting down at the gate.

The same duo from earlier: Grinning Boy flashing his toothpaste-commercial smile, and his too-serious companion standing stiffly beside him.

Knot, walking beside him, visibly stiffened as they approached.

Arthit shot him a look. "You gonna introduce him, or should I keep calling him Grinning Boy in my head? He's already taking up too much mental space."

Before Knot could mumble anything, the brighter one stepped forward and offered his hand.

"My name's Tew, P'Arthit. Sorry I forgot to introduce myself earlier. And this one right here—" he nudged his stiff companion, "—is my cousin, Kongpob."

Kongpob nodded once in greeting, though his face remained locked in that same unimpressed expression.

Arthit took Tew's hand and glanced at Kongpob.

Maybe his face is just like that. Permanently frowny. Not his fault. He shouldn't judge. Tsk. Still looks like he smelled something weird though.

Tew smiled at Knot, clearly waiting for him to say something, but Knot just stood there, looking like a deer caught in headlights. Tew's grin wavered.

Sensing the tension thickening like humid air, Arthit cleared his throat. "Well," he said, dragging out the word, "you off to go home, Nongs?"

Tew laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. "We're actually heading out. Thought I'd walk home with P'Knot."

"Why?" Arthit echoed, turning to his best friend. "So this has been a thing now?"

Knot gave him a sheepish look. "It's... recent."

"We recently moved in, and it turns out P'Knot is our neighbor." Tew supplied enthusiastically.

"Uh-huh." Arthit squinted suspiciously, then sighed and started walking out of the school.

"Whatever. I'm starving. If you two start holding hands while I'm around, I'm leaving you in the middle of the road." He said it as a joke, but when both of them turned red, he blinked, confused. Nevermind.

They made their way down the sidewalk, Knot and Tew walking side by side with some kind of invisible energy between them, while Arthit found himself awkwardly stuck next to the one person who hadn't said more than two words this entire time.

Kongpob walked quietly beside him—not too close, not too far. Just enough that Arthit could feel his presence. Which was, for some reason, irritating.

Arthit glanced over. Still frowning. Seriously, what's up with this guy? Did I step on his puppy in his past life?

The silence was eating at him. As much as he didn't want to associate himself with his junior, he couldn't handle the awkward silence either.

"So..." he started, keeping his eyes ahead, "is the permanent scowl a family trait or are you just allergic to smiling?"

There was a pause. Then—

"I can smile," Kongpob said calmly, still looking ahead.

Why does it feel like he's walking in slow motion just to match my pace?

Arthit cleared his throat. "So. Cousin duty, huh?"

Kongpob glanced at him for a brief moment. "I don't mind."

"Right." Arthit stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Must be a very... close cousin."

"I guess."

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "You guess? That's a weird answer. Either you're close or you're not."

Kongpob hummed noncommittally. "We're... close in the way that matters."

Arthit squinted. Yep, totally called it, this guy is weird. What does that even mean? Cousin cult stuff?

He shot a glance at Knot and Tew just ahead. Still walking in weird synchrony, almost like a couple in a drama. Knot laughed at something Tew said, and Tew gently nudged his shoulder.

Okay, these two are also really weird. Is he the only sane person here?

"Do you think they're, like," Arthit muttered under his breath, "in some kind of bromance? Or is this just how people act now?"

Kongpob tilted his head slightly. "You really haven't figured it out yet?"

Arthit blinked. "Figured out what?"

A quiet look of amusement crossed Kongpob's face—not quite a smile, but close. Like someone enjoying a secret joke.

"Never mind."

Arthit frowned, part confused, part mildly offended. "Oi! I'm still your senior and you? Don't play riddles with me."

"No, Senior," Kongpob said, emphasizing the title but still with that soft smile. "Just someone walking beside you."

Arthit made a face. But his ears felt weirdly warm, and he had no idea why.

They walked in silence again before Kongpob broke it, throwing Arthit off guard with Kongpob having initiated the conversation this time.

"You read a lot of comics, right?"

"Yeah? Why?"

"I just wondered how many chapters it usually takes for the clueless character to catch on."

"...What's that supposed to mean?"

Kongpob gave him a sidelong look. "Nothing. Just thinking out loud."

Arthit narrowed his eyes again but said nothing. He was beginning to suspect this junior had a dangerous habit of making his brain overheat.

He glanced at Knot and Tew again. Still hard to picture. Knot with a guy? Not that he was homophobic or anything—it just threw him off.

We grew up together admiring girls and all, and now suddenly he has a boyfriend?

Are you sure it's not because he got into a relationship first before you?

SHUT UP.

Great. Now he was having an internal battle with himself.

To escape it, he muttered something about needing milk tea and sped up a step, completely unaware...that Kongpob was already watching him with a different kind of expression now—not exactly smiling, but definitely no longer frowning.

At the same time, Knot looked back and saw Kongpob's expression.

Whatever it was, it looked a lot like interest.

—

That night, Arthit collapsed onto his bed with the grace of someone who had survived a mild social earthquake.

He replayed the afternoon in his head. Tew grinning like he was already part of their circle. Knot all fidgety and red in the face. And then that whole "walking home together" thing.

"'P'Knoot,'" Arthit mimicked aloud, voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Suspicious. Since when do people just show up and walk each other home just because they're neighbors?"

He narrowed his eyes at the ceiling.

"...No. No way. Knot would've told me. Right?"

He huffed and grabbed his phone. Maybe he was just overthinking. Maybe he just needed a cold shower to wash off today's weirdness.

Buzz.

Arthit looked at his phone. "Oh, no. No, no, no." He stared at the screen like it had personally offended him.

[Friend request: Kongpob Suthiluck.]

What the hell? He honestly thought that junior hated his guts or something. But he tapped Accept anyway. He told himself it was for background check purposes. Not because he was curious. Definitely not that.

Kongpob's profile was minimal. Sparse posts. No bio. No shared anything. The guy was clearly one of those people who only kept social media for lurking and maybe the occasional birthday greeting.

"Nothing to see here," Arthit muttered, scrolling without much hope.

Then he reached the tagged photos.

"...Huh."

There he was—Kongpob—grinning at the camera, eyes practically glowing. In another, he was caught mid-laugh, head tilted back slightly, surrounded by friends. Genuine, easy smiles. Warm energy.

"This guy can smile?" Arthit frowned. "Was he just allergic to sunlight this afternoon or what?"

Swipe. Another smile. A soft one this time. Warm. Effortless. Damn. Okay, wow. This guy is seriously good-looking, he commend him for that.

No, no, no. I'm envious. He could get girlfriends easily with that face. That's it.

"Why's he always frowning around me then? Did I offend his ancestors?." He squinted at the photo again. "Fraud. False advertising. Smile in the wild, scowl in person?"

He tapped out of the gallery, as if expecting to stumble onto more revelations.

Buzz.

His thumb almost hit Like on a post from three years ago.Shit. That would've been an auto-self-destruct moment.

[New message from Kongpob S.]

Kongpob:  Hi, P'Arthit. Thanks for accepting. Did you ever get that milk tea?

"Oh-ho?" Arthit raised an eyebrow. Acting all chummy now? Realized the benefits of being friends with your senior, huh?

Arthit forgetting about getting that shower stops mid-track, intrigued with the conversation happening.

He hesitated, then typed:

Arthit:  No. Closed.

Yeah, take that. I'm not gonna act all close to you now. You have to earn my trust first. I'm not that easy to please.

Kongpob replied quite fast.

Kongpob:  Oh. Okay.

...That's it? Arthit waited, still standing in front of his bathroom, expecting more. A follow-up. A joke. A meme. Something.

But minutes passed. Nothing.

Finally, on impulse:

Arthit: Are you always that quiet?

The reply came quickly.

Kongpob: I talk more when I'm comfortable. You're a bit... sharp. 😅

Arthit snorted and attempted to reply with 'What, you think glaring at me all day is your way of making friends?' but decided against it. Too long.

Arthit:  Sharp? I'm delighted.

The typing bubble appeared. Then it disappeared. Appeared again. Then disappeared again. Arthit stared at the screen, drumming his fingers against his phone. Ugh, this was annoying. 

Screw it.

Arthit:  Besides, you're the one acting all sharp, with that frown on your face. Are you looking for a beating?

...No reply. Not for a long time.

And just like that, Arthit regretted sending the last message. God, why do I sound clingy? He was supposed to be the cool senior here.

Sighing, he tossed the phone aside and went to shower. He'd wash off the awkwardness with cold water and pretend none of this ever happened.

Afterwards, he sat down to focus on his homework and successfully ignored his phone.

Ping.

Kongpob:  Sorry, I just kept thinking about what to say to you, P'Arthit.

Arthit stared at the notification for a second too long.

Ugh. No. Don't take the bait.

Ignore it. Pretend you're mature and unbothered.

He scribbled a few words into his notebook. Then crossed them out. Then glanced at his phone again.

Why is he even explaining himself? He tapped out a reply before he could overthink it.

Arthit:  so what? ur frowning 'cuz you don't know what to say?

The response was quick.

Kongpob: Yes...

Arthit blinked. "That's it? That's why he looked like he was mad at the world all afternoon?"

He let out a small laugh, not sure if it was from amusement or disbelief. He flopped back against his pillow, still chuckling to himself. It was so... stupidly sincere. He couldn't decide if he was annoyed or kind of charmed by it.

"He's weird," Arthit muttered under his breath, a half-smile tugging at his lips. "They're all weird." He dropped his phone onto the bedside table with a soft thud and closed his eyes.

Definitely not thinking about any of this tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Arthit is currently at the hallways as he pocketed his phone; He frowned at the classroom door, where Knot was once again having a full-blown conversation with Tew. 

It was lunch break—a.k.a. Knot's favorite time to flirt shamelessly and right on cue, the familiar faces of their juniors appeared: Tew, Kongpob, and a third guy Arthit didn't recognize.

It had been several days since that first encounter, and Arthit was growing increasingly suspicious. These guys were always here. Always. And it wasn't just during breaks, even after school, they somehow ended up walking home together.

He wouldn't have minded as much if Knot would just tell him what was going on. Instead, these juniors had simply... materialized. And now they were everywhere. Too comfortable. Too familiar. Like they'd somehow been absorbed into the class without anyone noticing.

Arthit narrowed his eyes at the suspects: Knot, still pretending like nothing was going on, and Tew, sparkling under the harsh sunlight of the afternoon.

Suspicious.

Then his gaze slid to Kongpob—and locked. Just for a second.

Kongpob quickly looked away, like he'd been caught stealing glances and hoped blinking fast enough would make it not awkward. Then, continuing whatever him and their other friend was talking about.

Smooth. Real subtle. Arthit rolled his eyes.

Now, Kongpob. He had to give it to the guy—he was consistent. Always around and tagging along with his cousin. Unnervingly observant.

And somehow, they'd ended up messaging online. Not often, but enough.

Kongpob was... chatty there. Surprisingly so. Actually, way more talkative online than in person. Which would've been fine if only Kongpob understood any of the memes Arthit sent once the conversation got awkward.

Most chats ended with Kongpob typing "??" and, at first, Arthit would try to explain. But the humor always died somewhere in the middle long before Kongpob could even begin to decipher it. In the end, Arthit would ghost him for hours out of frustation, and also because of his comics. Definitely not avoiding the guy.

Honestly, He should be using Nokia, what a waste of the latest iPhone. Tsk.

Just as Arthit was mentally composing a list of reasons why Kongpob might actually be an alien who didn't understand Earth humor, said alien started walking toward him in the hallways.

Arthit blinked. Kongpob was definitely heading in his direction after saying something to their other friend. Alone. With purpose.

Nope. Nope. Abort mission.

Arthit glanced at his phone again and opened the calculator like he's busy or something. Maybe if he looked busy enough, Kongpob would change course and go bother someone else.

But Kongpob didn't change course. Bummer.

He stopped right beside Arthit hands casually tucked into his pockets like he had every right to be there, which—technically—he didn't.

"P'Arthit," Kongpob said, voice even.

Arthit hummed noncommittally, not looking up. "You lost?"

Kongpob didn't take the bait. "No. Just... wanted to ask something."

That tone. Weird, calm confidence. That's what Arthit hated most about Kongpob, he sounded like he'd already planned out the conversation ten moves ahead.

"Okay," Arthit said warily, closing his phone with a soft thwap. "Shoot."

Kongpob scratched the back of his neck. "You...don't like chatting with me?" 

Arthit remembered that he still didn't reply to yesterday's message from Kongpob. Guilty, his soul momentarily left his body.

"What?" he asked, way too high-pitched.

"I mean, you disappear for hours after I reply. Just wondering if I'm bothering you."

Oh, crap.

Arthit stared at him, momentarily caught between lying, confessing, and running into the hallway screaming.

"...You're not bothering me," he finally muttered. "You're just... meme-impaired."

Kongpob blinked. "Meme-impaired?"

"Yeah," Arthit said, more confident now. "You have the reaction time of a sloth. And the emoji sense of a grandpa. Talking to you online is like explaining a joke to a turtle."

Shit. He said too much but to his horror, Kongpob laughed. "Then maybe you should talk to me in person instead," he said, cool as ever.

Arthit opened his mouth. Closed it. Glared. "Don't get clever with me, junior."

"Then P'Arthit, are you free later?...Can we–" Kongpob's question halted after someone called Arthit's name loud enough that it could be heard across the busy hallways.

"Arthit! We need you!" Jay, his friend from the basketball team come sprinting forward in front of him panting while clasping his shoulders.

Arthit rolled his eyes, already knows what his friend need. They need someone for the basketball practice again. Arthit sighed, not even bothering to ask what it was this time.

"You're short again, aren't you?" he asked flatly, already pushing himself back up from the wall.

Jay grinned sheepishly. "Tee didn't show up. Again. We just need someone to fill in—promise it'll only be for today."

"You said that last time," Arthit muttered, brushing off Jay's sticky hands from his shoulder—though he paused for half a second when he noticed Kongpob eyeing the spot where Jay's hands had been, a little too intently.

Jay turned to Kongpob with an easy grin. "Sorry to steal your senior, man."

Arthit didn't miss the way Kongpob blinked, like someone had just pulled the plug on his brain mid-sentence.

"It's fine," Kongpob said eventually, voice a shade quieter than before.

Disappointment? Hesitation?

Arthit stood up, brushing past Kongpob with a clipped, "Later." And then immediately regretted it. Maybe he should've asked what Kongpob was going to say. Maybe he could've—

"Arthit, let's go!" Jay whined, dragging him out of the moment.

Jay patted his back like he deserved a medal. "You owe me for this, you know."

"I'm doing you a favor," Arthit snapped, though it didn't have much bite.

Jay kept talking, rambling about plays and team formations, but Arthit's mind had stayed behind—beside Kongpob, where a question still hung unfinished in the air.

—

The gym was hot. Loud. Smelled like sweat and pride. And, as usual, full of boys who treated Thursday in a basketball afternoon.

"Why don't you join the team, Arthit? You're good as hell," the coach called out, slapping him on the back hard enough that he swears broke a bone. "We could use a shooter like you."

"Yeah, seriously," one of the panting players added, hands on knees. "Those three-point shots? Totally unfair."

Arthit wiped his forehead with the hem of his shirt and chugged his water like it owed him money. "Not interested," he muttered. "I just show up when you guys are desperate."

Jay jogged up beside him, laughing. "You say that every week, man."

"Maybe you should start asking why you're all desperate every week," Arthit shot back, deadpan.

"Ooooh!" a chorus of voices echoed from across the court, someone even fake-fainting dramatically onto the floor.

Coach just shook his head. "Smart mouth, deadly aim. You sure you're not already part of the team?"

Arthit only snorted. 

The real reason why he's not joining is because he loved his sleep. Craved it, even. And the training schedule for the basketball team? Unholy. Early mornings, late nights, and barely any time to just be a normal student. Unlike his friend Knot, who somehow juggled being on the football team and class rep, Arthit values his student life—thank you very much.

Speaking of Knot—Arthit caught a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Familiar. Brooding. Definitely Knot, slipping out behind the gym like he was avoiding someone. Or something.

"Coach, I'll head out for a bit," Arthit said quickly, not waiting for a reply as he jogged off.

He followed the trail quietly, curiosity piqued and stopped cold when he spotted Knot just around the back of the gym.

Hugging Tew.

Not a friendly, shoulder-clap kind of hug either. It was long. Close. Intimate.

Arthit squinted. "That's normal. He's just consoling him. Right?" he muttered to himself.

A voice behind him answered, smooth and knowing.

"Right. Totally normal. Especially when he's staring at Tew like that."

Arthit jumped and whipped around. Kongpob was there, arms crossed, one eyebrow lifted. Then he proceeded to looked back. Oh boy. Knot looked... gone. Not just affectionate—soft. Like Tew had personally rewritten his emotional software.

Arthit scoffed. "What? Don't be ridiculous. They're just... neighbors who talk a lot and whose relationship is transitioning into close friends who walk home together. Wait—"

He froze.

He came to a full stop. Kongpob, who'd predicted this, stopped too. Quietly.

Arthit turned to look at the two ahead of them again. Tew had just swatted something off Knot's hair, and Knot had flushed bright red and tried to pretend his whole head wasn't overheating.

"Wait." Arthit said again. "Wait—wait. Wait."

Kongpob crossed his arms. "You okay?"

"No. No, I'm not. Are they dating? Have they been dating? Was I not told about this? I'm the best friend! There are rules!"

Kongpob bit back a laugh. "It's recent. Like Tew said."

"But still! That's, like... high-level best friend betrayal. This is relationship-level secrecy! I need a moment."

He dramatically leaned against the wall, as if his whole worldview had just been rewritten in Italic.

Kongpob tilted his head. "Want to sit down?"

"No," Arthit muttered. "If I sit, I won't get up again. The betrayal is heavy."

Kongpob chuckled. "For what it's worth... he wanted to tell you. Just didn't know how."

"He could've started with, 'Hey Arthit, remember when I said I'd die single because school is more important than romance? I lied.'"

They looked back just as Knot and Tew began to head their way again. Instinctively, the two bolted, slipping down a side path near the practice court.

Arthit, still in his sweaty basketball uniform, grumbled the whole way. "I mean, Knot couldn't tell me but Tew tells you?"

"I didn't ask," Kongpob replied. "I saw them kissing by the lobby and figured it out."

Arthit tripped on nothing. "THEY KISSED?!"

"That's the part that breaks you?" Kongpob blinked, deadpan as he holds Arthit's arms preventing him from falling face flat to the ground.

"I hate this," Arthit groaned. "Everything's changing. Knot has a boyfriend. I have to walk next to a junior who doesn't understand memes and smiles like he knows all my secrets—"

"I only know one," Kongpob interrupted smoothly.

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "Which is?"

"You like talking to me."

Arthit spluttered. "I do not!"

"You do. Otherwise, you'd leave me on read without explaining every single meme you send. Or, you know, not be talking to me right now."

"...I hate you."

"No, you don't."

Arthit huffed and picked up the pace. Kongpob matched it easily. He kicked a stray rock on the path, hands shoved deep in his shorts. His brows were still furrowed in disbelief.

"I just don't get it," he muttered. "We used to talk about our ideal girls, you know? Knot even said he wanted someone cute and smart and good at cooking. I thought we were on the same page." Arthit shook his head. "Now suddenly he's all...over Tew?"

Kongpob was quiet for a moment before replying, voice softer now. "Maybe he didn't know how to tell you because... telling you means coming out to be someone different than you're used to"

Arthit blinked. That word hit with a realization.

"He's still your best friend," Kongpob continued. "But admitting something like that isn't easy. Especially to the person you grew up with. You start worrying—what if everything changes?"

"I wouldn't," Arthit said instantly, too fast. "I mean, why would I? It's Knot."

"Yeah," Kongpob nodded. "But did he know that for sure? Maybe he thought you'd act weird. Or pull away."

The truth was, Arthit had already begun to suspect there was more going on between Knot and Tew than they let on. He wasn't stupid—just in denial. It was easier to ignore the signs than to acknowledge what they meant.

Knot knew that, of course. He always had a way of reading Arthit too well. Which is probably why he'd come up with this whole plan of having Tew randomly "drop by" their classroom more often, acting like it was no big deal. Just enough to nudge Arthit's suspicions out of hiding without throwing the truth in his face.

Arthit fell quiet. The thought stung, not because it wasn't true, but because he realized he'd never given Knot a reason to believe he wouldn't react badly. And just earlier he was kind of complaining about ideal girls and whatnot and that's exactly why Knot don't know to bring it up.

He exhaled, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

"I'm an idiot."

"You're just surprised," Kongpob said gently. "That's different."

"I feel like I failed him."

"You didn't, he just needed time. And maybe now, you get to show him he was worried for nothing." Kongpob laughed quietly, his shoulder brushing lightly against Arthit's as they walked. 

"Still," he added with a little smirk, "at least now you know you don't have to get girlfriends together."

Arthit eyed him sideways. "Don't tell me you've been planning a dramatic reveal too."

Kongpob simply smiled, unreadable. "Who knows? Maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment."

Arthit blinked, caught off guard. "I—what's that supposed to mean?"

Kongpob didn't answer. He just kept walking, hands tucked casually into his pockets, like he hadn't just throw a thought grenade straight into Arthit's brain.

Arthit opened his mouth, then closed it again. He decided to drop it—for now—but a thought hit him, and a short laugh escaped before he could help it.

"What?" Kongpob asked, glancing at him curiously.

"You're right," Arthit said with a smirk, "you're much easier to talk to in real life."

Kongpob froze mid-step, clearly stunned. But Arthit didn't give him time to recover—he was already turning back toward the gym. And just like that, he was gone, leaving Kongpob standing there, blinking in surprise... and smiling to himself.

Chapter Text

Arthit, though already aware of what was really going on between Knot and Tew, chose not to bring it up. He figured if Knot wasn't ready to talk about it yet, he'd open up when the time was right. Still, if that moment did come, Arthit wanted to be ready—not just as a best friend, but as someone who genuinely understood and supported him.

The problem was... Arthit had no clue about boy-love relationships.

Naturally, he turned to the most obvious source: Knot and Tew themselves. He quietly observed their interactions at lunch, after class, even whenever they all walk home together. But there wasn't much to go on. They were painfully subtle and from the way they acted, anyone else would just think they were close friends.

Arthit was left with nothing. Thus, one late afternoon, he absentmindedly flipped through the pages of one of his usual comics, when a wild idea struck him.

What if I just... read about it?

Specifically, the type of comics that girls in his class giggled about way too often. The ones with two boys on the cover looking way too close. He never understood the appeal, but if it helped him make sense of things, then he was willing to give it a shot.

So, right after class, he made a beeline for the local comic store.

"Where are you rushing off to?" Knot called after him.

"Nowhere!" Arthit shouted over his shoulder.

Knot blinked, confused. Well, Arthit thought it's a win-win situation for Knot, more time for him and Tew. Though with Kongpob still tagging along, it wasn't exactly quality time.

Poor Kongpob. He was officially the third wheel now.

Meanwhile, Kongpob had apparently taken Arthit's complaints about memes to heart and was now trying to decode meme culture all on his own—something Arthit would have appreciated if he weren't too busy internally panicking about being seen in the BL section of the bookstore.

Arthit made his way toward the school gates, when suddenly he heard footsteps hurrying to catch up.

"P'Arthit Wait up!"

Kongpob. No.

Arthit turned slightly, but continued to walk fast. "What? You're not going with Knot and Tew?"

Kongpob caught up beside him, eyes darting briefly to where the other two were walking off together, heads leaned in close.

"I could," he said casually, then looked Arthit straight in the eyes. "But... do I have to?"

Arthit squinted at him. "You scared of a little third-wheeling?"

Kongpob's mouth twisted into a sheepish grin. "It's not third-wheeling if they forget you exist."

Arthit cringed with a smile of tight-lip despite himself. "Yeah, I can relate to that."

Kongpob walked a bit closer, bumping his shoulders with Arthit. "Where are you going anyway?"

"Nowhere," Arthit said a little too quickly. Eyes darting everywhere other than Kongpob.

Kongpob raised an eyebrow. "Can I come?"

Arthit hesitated. His mission was... confidential. Research purposes only. Absolutely not something he wanted Kongpob involved in. Especially involving him reading some boys in each other's embrace.

But then Kongpob gave him that look. The one with the big eyes and the mild pout and the quiet please don't leave me with them radiating from his face.

"Fine," Arthit surrendered. "But don't ask questions."

Kongpob perked up instantly, his grin wide and victorious. "Deal." 

Arthit gave him a sidelong glance. "Whoa. That was a smile. I almost forgot you used to frown every time we met."

Despite Arthit's jab, Kongpob chuckled. "That's because you were scary back then."

"And here I thought you want to fight with me"

They both laughed, the tension slipping into something more comfortable. Still, as they continued walking, Arthit was already regretting every life decision that led to this moment. Especially the one where he agreed to buy comics about boys kissing each other with Kongpob right next to him.

He was never living this down.

–

"Don't follow me. Stay right here, okay?" Arthit said firmly, stopping in front of the store and pointing to the sidewalk like he was giving instructions to a lost puppy.

Kongpob nodded obediently, grinning. But just as Arthit turned toward the shop, something beside him caught his attention.

"Be a good boy, okay? Mommy will be right back," a woman cooed to her golden retriever as she gave it one last pat on the head. The dog wagged its tail happily, completely content with being left outside.

Arthit blinked. Without another word, he turned back, grabbed Kongpob's wrist, and dragged him into the store.

"Wait—P'Arthit, I thought—?"

"No questions asked," Arthit muttered, refusing to look at him. He is the one who dragged Kongpob here so he should be responsible for him. A responsible senior indeed, patting himself on the back.

Inside, Arthit scanned the signs above the bookshelves, trying to spot the right section. Once he spotted it, he subtly veered in that direction—only to glance back and see Kongpob trailing after him.

No. Absolutely not. He couldn't let his junior follow him there. His image would shatter into a thousand irreparable pieces.

"Kongpob, you can go look around the store for a bit. I'll just be over there," Arthit said as casually as he could, nodding toward the far end of the store.

"Okay, P'," Kongpob said with a smile.

Thank God, Arthit sighed in relief. At least he's easy to talk to.

But the moment he turned back to walk, he heard the same footsteps behind him.

Kongpob.

He spun around. "Why are you still following me?"

Kongpob blinked, expression innocent. "I don't know where else to go."

Arthit groaned under his breath. He wanted to be annoyed, but the kid looked genuinely lost—like he'd been left at a mall without a map.

"...Just look around," Arthit muttered. "Maybe you'll get something that interests you."

"I don't need to look around, you already interest me P'" Kongpob whispered as he held the staring contest on his own. Arthit, visibly shocked at his words, almost shouts.

"Kongpob!"

"Relax P', fine, I'll look around too" Kongpob laughed, turned around and went to the opposite ends.

With that, he marched toward the BL section, praying no one he knew was nearby. As he scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a particular manga with a cover that caught his attention.

A student in a maroon blazer and white polo stood beside another boy, their backs facing each other with the faintest blush on the tips of their ears. Okay, Arthit thought. If I'm going to read one of these, it should at least look normal. Not like those covers with shirtless dudes clutching roses and fainting in each other's arms.

He reached for the manga, but just as his fingers grazed the edge, a voice called out behind him, making him jump.

"Arthit!"

He nearly dropped it. Spinning around, he came face-to-face with Namtarn—Jay's girlfriend.

"Oh! Nice to see you here! What are you doing in this section?" she asked, all too cheerful.

"Uhh... nothing. Just picking up the latest volume... of my comics," he said quickly, trying to shuffle the BL manga behind another book.

Namtarn's eyes dropped down to his hands hiding something at his back and narrowed her eyes as she leaned closer, eyes sparkling like she just found buried treasure.

"Oh my God," Namtarn gasped. "Wait—don't tell me. You're into this now?!" She clasped her hands together in delight. "I knew there was hope for you!"

Arthit instinctively stepped back. "What do you mean?!—Wait, no! It's not like that. I mean—I was just... curious. Research!"

But Namtarn was already in her own world. "You've crossed over, haven't you? Do you want recs? I have a whole spreadsheet. Or maybe you'd prefer something fluffier? This one's kind of a slow burn with angst, but if you're into pining—"

"I am not into pining!" he practically shouted.

Several heads turned. Arthit froze. Just when he thought he might melt into the floor from embarrassment, a familiar voice cut in.

"P'Arthit," Kongpob said, suddenly appearing beside him. "Is everything okay?"

Arthit looked like a deer caught in headlights. Namtarn blinked, glanced at Kongpob, then back to Arthit—and her smirk widened.

"Ohhh," she said knowingly, eyes flicking between the two of them. "I see."

"You see nothing," Arthit hissed through clenched teeth.

He glanced at Kongpob, who stood rigid beside him, staring at Namtarn with the intensity of a security scanner. Arthit nudged him lightly with his shoulder.

Easy there, Kong. This girl already has a boyfriend.

Then he turned back to Namtarn, who was now locked in some kind of wordless conversation with Kongpob, nodding slowly like she'd just uncovered a secret Arthit himself didn't understand.

"I see hmmm, there's nothing at all," she sing-songed. Then, lowering her voice with a wink, she whispered, "Don't worry. Your secret's safe with me. I fully support this... exploration."

Arthit looked horrified. "It's not—!"

She held up her hand. "Shh. Say no more. Jay told me you were a little dense, but I didn't think it would be this cute." Then she gave Kongpob a thumbs up. "Good luck."

With that, Namtarn walked off, practically skipping.

Arthit exhaled like he'd just survived a natural disaster.

"Who was that?" Kongpob asked, watching her go.

"Jay's girlfriend," Arthit mumbled.

Kongpob raised a brow. "She's... intense."

"You have no idea."

Then Kongpob looked down at the manga Arthit was still clutching awkwardly. "Oh, you're reading this one?"

Arthit nearly dropped it again. "I—No! I'm not reading it, okay?! I just wanted to learn more about... this kind of relationship. For Knot!"

"Mmhm." Kongpob smiled. "For Knot."

"Shut up."

"Didn't say anything."

Arthit shoved the manga into his chest. "If you say one word of this to anyone, I swear I'll—"

Kongpob simply smiled, flipping the manga open with interest.
"Don't worry, P'Arthit. You'll enjoy this one."

Arthit blinked. Wait—what?

"You've... read this?" Arthit asked, suspiciously squinting at him. "You know this one?"

Kongpob turned a page casually, as if this wasn't a life-altering revelation. "Mm. Yeah, but I read the book version of it"

Arthit's mouth fell open. "You've read that?!"

Kongpob tilted his head innocently. "You said not to ask questions. That includes mine, right?"

Arthit sputtered.

Kongpob chuckled smoothly, handing the manga back. "What? It's a good story. Clean art. Nice pacing. And one is a senior, and the other is a junior—very relatable."

Fine. No judgment here. But Arthit can't get his mind wrap around it so he began, "Are you..." 

Then immediately regretted starting that question.

Kongpob raised a brow, anticipating what will Arthit say next. "Am I...?"

"Nothing!" Arthit said, snatching the comic back and turning toward the cashier. "Just—Let's go."

Kongpob followed, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

As they walked side by side toward the register, Arthit muttered again under his breath, "This is research. I'm doing this for Knot."

Kongpob leaned in slightly, eyes warm. "Of course you are, P'Arthit."

And yet, his smile lingered the entire way out of the store. While Arthit grumbled all the way.

—

That night, Arthit lay on his bed, the soft whir of his fan filling the quiet room. He glanced at the paper bag resting on his desk, then sighed. What the hell. Might as well see what all the fuss is about.

He reached for the manga he'd bought earlier that afternoon—well, dragged Kongpob into buying with him—and flipped it open. The initial pages were exactly what he expected: slightly awkward boys, a school setting, and the faint hints of emotional tension.

But as he continued reading, he found himself unexpectedly drawn in. The story didn't shove romance down his throat like he feared. The emotions were subtle, carefully unwrapped with each page. It was... kind of nice.

"Is this what they call slow burn?" he muttered, eyes scanning the panels.

Time slipped past him. He didn't even notice the clock until he hit the chapter where the main character ran fifty-four laps as some sort of punishment—and, strangely, an act of devotion. He blinked at the time. 11:56 PM.

Setting the book down, he stretched, spine cracking. "I can't believe the ML's falling for that kind of senior though," he mumbled to himself. "He's grumpy. Scary. A total hazer."

But then again, what did he know about love?

Arthit stared at the ceiling for a moment, letting the thought settle. Love, whether between boys, girls, or whoever else—it felt the same. Confusing. Unexpected. Kind of annoying. But real.

With that realization, he shut off the lights and crawled into bed. Just as he was tugging his blanket up, his phone buzzed.

[1 New Message]
Knot: you up yet? come down for a sec, i'll treat you

Arthit sat up, frowning. He padded over to the window, pulling the curtain aside. Sure enough, there was Knot, standing under the dim glow of the streetlamp in a gray jacket and soft cotton pants, hands in his pockets, looking like he'd been pacing.

Arthit didn't bother replying. He wore his red jacket over his shirt and tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to wake his parents, and slipped outside.

"Hey," Knot greeted quietly as he opened the gate for him.

"What's up?" Arthit asked, slipping on his slippers.

Knot rubbed the back of his neck. "Come with me?"

Arthit shrugged. "Sure, but I'm getting a nomyen first."

—

The park they walked to wasn't far. It was a small open space behind a nearby temple, lit faintly by old streetlights and the soft blue glow of a convenience store sign. A few stone benches dotted the path, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine lingered in the air. The kind of place that felt too quiet for big conversations, which was exactly why people probably had them there.

They sat side by side on a wooden bench, sipping their drinks. Arthit's straw slurped loudly in the silence, but he waited. He didn't push. He figured if Knot called him out this late, it wasn't just for sugar and small talk.

Finally, Knot let out a breath. "So... I've been wanting to tell you something."

Arthit raised a brow but stayed quiet.

"It's about Tew." Knot fiddled with his straw wrapper, eyes fixed on the ground. "He's... my boyfriend."

Arthit blinked, pretending to be surprised, though his voice was warm. "Yeah? That's great, man."

Knot's head snapped up, eyes wide. "Wait. You're not shocked?"

Arthit chuckled, nudging him lightly with his shoulder. "You two weren't exactly subtle behind the gym the other week."

Knot's jaw dropped. "You saw that?!"

"Unfortunately, yes. And so did Kongpob."

Knot groaned, dragging both hands down his face. "Oh god. So embarrassing."

Arthit gave a short laugh, then his tone softened. "Hey, it's fine. I figured if you weren't ready to say it, I'd wait. But I'm happy for you. Really."

Knot fell quiet, staring at the rim of his cup. Then he exhaled, like he'd been holding those words back for too long.

"I know we made that pact," he said quietly. "You remember? That dumb promise that we'd both get girlfriends and double date someday. Talked about it like it was the most normal, obvious thing in the world."

Arthit smiled faintly. "Yeah. I remember."

"I meant it back then," Knot continued. "But somewhere along the way, I just... started feeling things I didn't expect. For Tew. And it wasn't planned or anything. It just—happened. I was scared, man. I didn't know what it meant. I didn't even want to admit it to myself."

He paused, his voice cracking a little.

"That's why I didn't tell you sooner. I was afraid you'd think I was breaking the pact. Or that I was different. That maybe you'd treat me weird after."

Arthit's expression softened—something protective and real. "Knot... you don't need to apologize for falling in love. I'll admit, I was a little shocked at first when I noticed it, and I guess... yeah, I felt kind of hurt. Like you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

Knot glanced at him, eyes wide with worry.

"But then I realized," Arthit went on, "maybe you were just scared. And honestly... I didn't really know how to react either. It was new to me too."

Knot let out a small laugh, eyes shining under the dim streetlamp.

Arthit continued, his voice thoughtful. "You probably made the right call not telling me right away. I might've reacted weirdly back then. But when Kongpob mentioned that you might be struggling with it, I started to understand things better. Started trying to understand you better."

He took a sip of his nomyen. "You could fall for whoever you want. Girl, boy, alien from Mars—doesn't matter to me. As long as they treat you right."

Knot smiled, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "He does... Tew treats me right."

After a quiet moment, Knot added, "Thank you, Arthit. For understanding me. And for trying, even if it was hard. You're a great friend. I wouldn't want to lose you."

"You better know it. I'm awesome," Arthit said, flashing a smug grin.

They both burst out laughing, and when the laughter faded, a peaceful silence settled between them.

Then Knot glanced sideways, the mischief returning to his voice. "So... you and Kongpob, huh?"

Arthit nearly choked on his drink. "W-what?! No! Absolutely not!"

Knot snorted.

Arthit groaned. "He's just my junior and I'm his senior. Nothing more than that."

Wait—that kind of sounded familiar.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that."

The park fell quiet again—but this time, it was a warm kind of quiet. One where nothing had to be hidden anymore.

–

"Shit, I'm so late. Stupid Knot, why did he even have to confess in the middle of the night?"

Arthit dropped onto his bed at 2 AM after spending hours talking with Knot. They'd gotten caught up reminiscing and laughing about old memories, catching up on missed moments. As much as he'd been preoccupied with his junior boyfriend lately, he admitted it felt good. He'd missed Knot.

But now, all he wanted was to slip into class without being late.

Thankfully, when he reached the hallway, he saw his classmates still lingering just outside the room. No professor in sight. He let out a breath of relief.

Sliding into the room, he made his way to his desk and began fixing his things. But as he set his pen down, a conversation behind him caught his ear—he hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but a certain name made his spine straighten.

"...Kongpob, right? He's seriously cute."

What? Kongpob? Cute? He scoffed inwardly, trying not to turn around. Seriously? He's just... average. Kind of annoying, actually. Please.

"I know, right? Even though he's a year younger, he looks like he could be modeling. That jawline? And the way he talks—ugh."

Arthit blinked, his hand pausing over his notebook. Seriously? He doesn't even get memes. What's there to like? He'll just go "??" at everyone you send. Not good boyfriend material if you ask me.

"Did you know," one of the girls leaned in closer, her voice lowering like she was about to drop gossip gold, "he's always here in our classroom due to a special someone..."

Arthit's ears perked up without permission.

"Apparently, he has a crush on Fon."

That name hit him like a slap with a cold towel.

...Oh

Fon? That petite girl with the soft voice and the floral notebooks? He blinked slowly. Wait. Kongpob has a crush on her? That's why he's always around Tew?

He didn't realize his jaw had clenched until his molars began to ache. With a sharp breath, he dropped his gaze, tapping his pen against the desk in a nervous rhythm. He snapped himself out of his thoughts just as the professor finally walked in. The girls behind him scrambled to their seats, and the once loud classroom fell into a quite hush.

"Whatever..."

Chapter Text

Fon is really cute...

Arthit is lingering in the hallways as their break started earlier than usual since their professor had a sudden meeting. Good riddance—he forgot the homework for that class. 

Therefore, feeling bored and not having his comics by his side he decided to let the school air breeze himself out as he waited for the actual lunch break, when his eyes wanders through the window of their class and caught sight of his classmate writing something in her notebook—Fon.

Fon is one of the popular girls in their school, and it will be no wonder if Kongpob also took a liking to her. If that rumor is true.

She has bronze skin and dark brown, curly long hair. Her eyeglasses add a charm to her whole demeanor. She has cute, round eyes and small lips that hold a great voice—Arthit remembers how she introduced herself by singing during their first day's task. Meanwhile, he did a cringe-worthy poem to introduce his boring self.

Now that Arthit thought about it, Kongpob always accompanies Tew to their class. Tew has a reason, and that is to talk to Knot. But as much as he loves his friend Knot, he doesn't think he'd be up for it if Knot asked him to accompany him to his boyfriend's class. He doesn't want to waste his time being miserable.

So when he learned that Kongpob has a crush on Fon, it all made sense why he's always hanging around their class. And what does Arthit plan to do with that information? Nothing, unless Kongpob ask him to be the wingman, he'd politely refused just because out of sheer envy that his junior will get a girlfriend before him. That's all.

Suddenly, Fon looked up, noticing Arthit's eyes on her, visibly shocked—making Arthit look away so fast he thinks his neck broke or something, only to come face to face with Kongpob staring at him.

"AH!"

Arthit yelped, clutching his chest like his soul had just left his body.

"What the heck, Kongpob?!"

"Hello, P'Arthit," Kongpob said casually, as if he hadn't just appeared out of thin air. "What were you looking at?" He leaned slightly, trying to peek into the classroom behind Arthit.

"Nothing!"

Arthit's voice cracks with panic, and he clears his throat, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. "Just...looking at the window"

Kongpob chuckled "And what do you find?"

"..Dusty, Anyway what are you doing here again?"

"Lunch" Kongpob throws a look at Tew who is already on his way to Knot. 

"Don't you think it's kinda weird?" Arthit leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so that no one will hear "The dedication—accompanying your cousin just to... talk to his boyfriend?"

Kongpob smiled, almost amused. "Why not? Tew's shy. That's why I'm here most of the time."

"Well, don't you have other things to do? Like, I don't know, liking girls or something?"

Kongpob tilted his head. "How about you, P'? Do you have someone you like?"

"None."

"You sure?"

Arthit scoffed. "Please. You'd know. I'd be smiling so big, it'd be disgusting."

"Then I'll keep an eye out." Kongpob grinned. Arthit rolled his eyes he felt like his eyes almost went back down through his head. 

"Who wants you here?!" Arthit snapped, stomping his feet before storming into the classroom to get his wallet for lunch, leaving Kongpob behind in the hallway.

Arthit kept muttering about how stupid Kongpob was when suddenly a voice caught his attention.

"Arthit, you can sing, right?"

Fon was standing by her desk, notebook still open, but her eyes were fixed on him—expectant and warm. She smiled in that way she always did: a little shy, but confident enough to make him feel like he was back in that first-day class activity, clutching a piece of paper with a painfully awkward poem.

"Uh," he coughed, straightening. "Sing?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "You sang something once before, right? During orientation?"

"I did a poem," Arthit mumbled, voice tight. "A bad one."

"Right! But someone said they heard you sing before. Was that not you?"

Arthit blinked again. "Maybe in a group project or something..."

"You don't have to be shy," Fon said, giggling. "I was just going to ask if you could help us with the presentation for our class at next month's school fair. We need a guy to harmonize with me and Nene."

"Me?" His voice cracked. "Why not... anyone else?"

"Well," Fon looked at him again, as if measuring something. "You've got this... calm energy. Plus, I think your voice would suit the song."

"I'll think about it," Arthit felt his brain fold in on itself. No one ever complimented his singing before, this is whole new territory for him. Thus, he made an attempt to look nice as he smiled looking like a fool in his head.

Way too wide.

He pressed his lips together, but the damage was done. Nene, who had been doodling in her notebook beside Fon, shot him a glance that was far too knowing.

"Great! Let me know by tomorrow, okay?" Fon smiled again, then turned back to her notebook.

Arthit looked outside their classroom, feeling a little dazed—and a little dumb—when he noticed Kongpob was nowhere to be found, even though Tew was still by the door, talking to Knot.

—

"Where's Kongpob?" Knot asked as the three of them walked home together after school—a habit that had slowly become routine.

Thank God, Knot. Arthit nearly sighed in relief. I'm dying of curiosity here. 

Kongpob's presence was gone since their ealier interaction, he did not even go with them during lunch claiming club activities which led Arthit to not think of anything about it.

"I don't know, P'," Tew replied, adjusting the strap of his bag. "He just said he had to go ahead or something."

"Hmph. He always tags along with you, yet you didn't even ask where he went?" Arthit cut in, a little too sharply.

Tew blinked, clearly taken aback, but managed a polite smile. Knot shot Arthit a glare, one that screamed what's your problem, but Arthit just looked away, feigning interest in a passing car.

Smooth. Real subtle, Arthit. Why do you even care?

"Kongpob—although my cousin can be pretty secretive—if he didn't say anything, then maybe it's better to leave it alone," Tew said gently, voice calm but with just enough edge to remind Arthit to chill.

"Oh," Arthit muttered.

"Yeah," Tew continued. "Besides, he looked kind of... down earlier. I didn't want to pry. Maybe he just needed space. I always drag him to your class during lunch, after all."

Arthit faltered mid-step.

Down? Why? Was it something I said?

His mind instantly replayed the words from earlier that day:
"Who wants you here?!"

Shit. His stomach sank. I didn't mean that. Don't tell me he took that seriously?

"Oh. Sorry," he mumbled, his voice softer now.

Tew offered him a kind smile. "Don't worry, P'Arthit. I think he'll be happy once he finds out you were worried about him."

"What! No, I'm not—Knot's the one who asked!" Arthit blurted out, far too quickly.

Knot snorted. "Uh-huh."

Arthit clenched his jaw and shoved his hands into his pockets. As they walked the rest of the way in silence, the guilt sat heavy on his chest. Maybe he'd message him later.

Later that night, Arthit lay in bed, phone hovering above his face, brightness turned all the way down like it would soften his shame. The chat with Kongpob was open. Last message?

Kongpob: You looked tired today, P'. Don't forget to eat dinner, okay? 😌

Sent yesterday. Heart reacted by Arthit. Nothing else. No follow-up.

Because, of course, Kongpob was always the one who messaged first. Arthit stared at the blinking cursor in the text box.

What the hell was he supposed to say?

Why'd you vanish after class? Too interrogating.

Hi. Embarrassingly dry.

He sighed, rolled to the side, and opened his sticker drawer. His most used stickers were just a combo of grumpy cats, facepalming pandas, and the occasional aggressively sparkly GIF that someone had spammed in their class group chat.

He clicked over to the meme folder. That... might be better. His eyes narrowed when he found it—the one Kongpob once sent him during exam week: a photo of a chicken screaming into the void. He tapped it to send, but his thumb grazed another image.

A frog blowing a kiss with hearts above it.

Sent.

"Shit!"

Panic. Pure panic. Arthit scrambled to press delete, but it was already seen. His chat window showed the dreaded three gray dots. Typing. Disappearing. Typing again. Gone.

Then finally,

Kongpob:  ???

Arthit:  Sorry, wrong sent.

Kongpob:  Oh. I'm sorry P', I'll not disturb you then...with your girlfriend or someone :>>

Arthit rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. Is this kid not listening earlier? He already said he didn't like anyone. Thus, a girlfriend is out of the equation.

Arthit:  What? I was sending it to my mom. I don't have a girlfriend.

Sorry mom, you have to save your son from embarrassment for now.

Kongpob:  Oh.

Again with the Oh. Arthit stared at his screen. There it was. Silence. The awkward post-meme tension hanging in the air. He cleared his throat even though no one could hear him, and started typing again.

Arthit: Why weren't you with the others earlier? When we went home.

Kongpob:  Why? You miss me?

Arthit exhaled loudly through his nose. There it is.

Arthit:  Just answer.

Kongpob:  Haha okay okay. I had to go home fast. Errands. That's all.

Arthit:  You looked kind of down, Tew said.

There was a pause before the typing bubble reappeared.

Kongpob:  Nah, just tired maybe. Or maybe someone yelled "Who wants you here?!" at me earlier. That might've done it.

Arthit winced. He could feel the heat crawling up his neck.

Arthit:  You know I didn't mean that.

Kongpob: I know P, I'm just messing with you. Don't worry. The frog kiss healed me.

Arthit:  I swear I'll block you.

Kongpob:  Okay but at least let me ask one last thing before my exile. Who were you talking to earlier? You looked... busy.

Arthit blinked. Oho. He's curious. About Fon, probably. Is him liking her true, then?

Arthit:  Fon, my classmate, you know her? She asked me to help with this singing thing for the fair.

Kongpob:  You're singing?!

Arthit:  I said I'll think about it. I'm gonna say no. Too many people.

Kongpob:  You should do it. Your voice is good. Don't think about others.

Arthit furrowed his brows, cheeks heating up.

Arthit:  How do you even know what my voice sounds like?

Kongpob:  I just know. Angel voice for angel face.

Arthit's jaw dropped slightly. He stared at the message. His chest thumped a little louder than it should.

Arthit:  You're ridiculous. Stop JOKING!

Kongpob then sent the same frog kissing meme from earlier.

Kongpob: Sorry wrong sent :>>

He threw his phone down on the bed and covered his face with a pillow. Arthit stared blankly at the frog kiss emoji now floating in his chat.He didn't know what to say. He grabbed the phone again. No words came. So instead, he sent the original meme after all—

A chicken screaming into the void.

——————

(Special Extra – Arthit's Introductory Poem 'A masterpiece')

My name is Arthit,

Yes, like the sun, 

I'm very hot

But unlike that star,

I'm very fun.

I like my peace,

And reading alone,

If you sit near me,

Please silence your phone.

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I hate public speaking,

Please end this soon.

Thank you.

Chapter Text

Arthit decided to take the role of singing at the school fair with Fon—not because Kongpob talked to him about it. Definitely not. 

He chose to do it because, with this being his last year of high school, he figured he should try something memorable before diving headfirst into the pressure cooker that is college entrance season next semester.

So, for the past few days, walking home with Knot, Tew, and Kongpob had been put on hold. He'd been tied up in practice sessions with Fon, and their classmates Nene and Yong. What started as a simple harmonization had somehow turned into a full band performance after they found out Yong could play drums, and Nene knew her way around a guitar. Arthit even offered to play guitar himself, only to get vetoed by the group so he could focus on doing vocals with Fon.

The school fair was scheduled for next month, just before the December break—a kind of year-end party for the seniors, though the whole school was welcome. With only four weeks left, the group had started to practice more seriously, juggling rehearsals with their other schoolwork.

Most of their sessions were held in the music club's classroom after hours, with the permission from their class adviser, since they're the representative of their class.

Arthit stared out the window. The curtains fluttered in the breeze, and the orange glow of the setting sun spilled into the room. The clock struck 5:30 p.m., and he felt the first signs of scratchiness in his throat. Probably from all the singing.

He glanced around. Fon was jotting something down in her notebook, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose. Nene stood by the window, looking out. Yong was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, Fon? I'm gonna head downstairs for drinks. Want anything?"

Fon looked up from her notes. "Sure, Arthit. Iced coffee will do. Once you get back, let's wrap up for today. Thanks."

He nodded, then turned to Nene. She shook her head wordlessly, declining. With that, he left the room and stepped into the dim hallway.

The school felt different this late—quiet, almost eerie. It reminded him of those movie scenes where the main character wanders through a deserted world, alone with his thoughts. Or maybe he was just being dramatic. Still, the silence was... peaceful.

Down the corridor, he spotted the canteen. Only the drinks stall and one rice meal counter were still open. A few students lingered at the tables, mostly athletes grabbing dinner after late practices.

This was exactly why he didn't want to join the basketball team. He hated going home late. The way the air got colder, the shadows stretched longer, and the hallways turned into ghost towns.

And yet, here he was. Still in school at 6 PM, throat sore, feet tired, and roped into a practice session he never volunteered for. Peer pressure was real. Sucks to be him.

Arthit trudged toward the drink stall, shoving his hands into his pockets as if that would warm them. The old vendor was still mixing powder and ice in plastic cups like she had all the time in the world. He was just about to rattle off his order when—

"Arthit!"

He flinched.

There was no need to guess who it was. Only one person on campus flail their arms like they were guiding a plane to land.

Sure enough, Jay was seated at one of the nearby tables, waving both arms dramatically above his head despite being maybe six feet away. As if Arthit couldn't see him. As if anyone within a fifty-meter radius couldn't.

Arthit gave the vendor his order and with a tight-lipped nod. "I'll be back in a bit," he said, already regretting the decision. He marched over, grabbed Jay's outstretched hand, and dropped into the seat opposite him.

"What?" he asked flatly, looking down at the finished plates and he noticed that there's two plates at the table despite Jay's the only one in the table with him.

Jay leaned in like he was about to hear state secrets. "Why are you still here?"

Arthit raised a brow. "Am I not allowed to stay late in my own school?"

"You? You're the guy who packs up before the bell even finishes ringing. It's suspicious."

Arthit clicked his tongue. "Tsk. You'll just have to find out during the school fair."

Jay's face lit up with a teasing grin. "What? You're gonna perform or something?"

Arthit didn't answer. He just looked at Jay with the expression of someone who deeply regretted every decision made since birth.

Jay blinked. "No way." Then, louder, "No way! You?! You have to save me a front seat, Arthit! I wanna be right there when your voice cracks!"

"Hmph," Arthit scoffed, crossing his arms. "and I'll dedicate a song to you. It's called 'I Regret Knowing You'."

Jay howled while clutching his chest like he was deeply hurt by what Arthit said. "Ouch, but I'm touch that you'll even dedicate a song for this lonely me"

Arthit stuck his tongue out at Jay, a childish retort for the teasing. He turned to leave, but before he could fully stand, a new shadow fell over their table, and Jay's expression suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree.

Arthit blinked, thrown off by the way Jay's posture straightened, eyes wide with recognition. Someone was behind him.

"P'Arthit."

That voice. That stupidly bright voice.

Arthit slowly turned around, already bracing himself. And there he was—Kongpob.

Still in uniform, the tie slightly loosened like he ran all the way here. His grin stretched so wide Arthit wondered if he'd gotten a teeth upgrade during the days he'd been gone.

"Wha—Why—?" Arthit sputtered, not quite expecting him to be this close and with Jay of all people. 

He doesn't know why he's being this nervous in front of Kongpob. Maybe because it's been days since he saw the younger.

"Oh right!" Jay suddenly piped up, completely missing the tension, or perhaps enjoying it. "You know Arthit, yeah? Well, meet my new recruit, Arthit—Kongpob."

"Recruit?" Arthit blinked, slowly peeling his eyes off Kongpob to give Jay a skeptical glance. "What are you talking about?"

"For the basketball team!" Jay beamed. "We've been trying to fill the roster before the school year ends because, us seniors will focus more on college next year"

Arthit glanced back at Kongpob, who just kept smiling like some golden retriever who found his owner after getting lost in the park.

I hated how warm that smile was.

"Didn't know you played basketball," Arthit muttered. Kongpob only smiled again while scratching his nape, seemingly embarrass. 

"It's been a while, P'Arthit," Kongpob said, a little over the top. Along with his eyes sparkling above him as the light brightens even more beside their space.

"Yeah," Arthit replied, nodding, eyes looking anywhere but directly at him. "You too."

It came out neutral—maybe too neutral—but it's not like he practiced this reunion in his head or anything. Definitely didn't think about what he'd say if he suddenly saw Kongpob in the canteen after ghosting his last meme one day ago.

Jay checked his phone and let out a dramatic groan. "Crap, I gotta run. My mom will kill me. I'll see you two later! Kongpob tomorrow, yeah?"

Kongpob nodded, helping put the plates out in the dirty dish counter. Then they both watched as Jay scrambled his way out. 

Kongpob scratched the back of his neck again while putting his back on his shoulder, smile a little sheepish now. "So... why don't we go home together, P'? It's convenient. You're heading out, right?"

Arthit blinked at him, caught off guard by how casual that sounded. 

Calm the fuck down, it's not like you're not walking home together this past few weeks.

He shrugged, now standing up while trying not to seem affected. "Sure. I just need to grab the drinks for me and Fon."

There was the smallest pause.

"Oh," Kongpob said, smile faltering just a touch. "Right. Sure, P'."

They walked side by side toward the drinks stall. It was quiet between them, but not uncomfortable, just... filled with things Arthit didn't know how to say. Or didn't want to say first.

The vendor greeted them and handed over two plastic cups dripping with condensation.

One was an iced coffee. The other, obnoxiously pink.

Arthit immediately reached for the pink milk and cleared his throat. "This one's Fon's," he announced, too quickly. "She likes, uh... sweet stuff. Very girly. You know."

Kongpob raised an eyebrow, amused. "Sure, P'," he said again, this time with a teasing edge.

Arthit scowled. "What?"

"Nothing. Just... you and pink milk. It's a vibe."

"I said it's Fon's."

Kongpob held his hands up in surrender, but the grin on his face said everything else.

Arthit rolled his eyes and started walking ahead, hoping the embarrassment would evaporate before it reached his ears.

By the time they reached the school building, the corridor was nearly deserted, lit by the orange wash of the setting sun through the windows. Arthit spotted Fon just outside the classroom, already packed up with her bag over her shoulder, while Arthit's own bag on ther other shoulder, and a phone in hand.

"Fon?" he called out, frowning slightly. He immediately approached Fon and got his bag from the other. "Where are the others?"

"Oh," Fon said, slipping her phone into her tote. "Nene and Yong already went home. Yong's mom picked them up, and Nene hitched a ride. I was just waiting for you."

She turned to Kongpob with a polite, curious expression. "And this is...?"

Kongpob stepped beside Arthit, back to that oddly formal posture.

"Kongpob. A friend." Arthit clarified quickly, tone short.

"Nice to meet you," Fon said. Her smile stayed friendly, but she lingered on Kongpob's face, just a bit longer than polite. Kongpob merely nodded in return, expression unreadable.

Trying to break the weird tension thickening in the air, Arthit raised the two drinks in his hands. "Anyway, I got you iced coffee"

He extended the cup toward her, the tall one with the dark brew and faint swirls of condensed milk, but then froze when he saw Fon reach for it.

His eyes widened in quiet panic. Crap. Their eyes met. And very subtly, desperately, Arthit shook his head, just a little.

Fon blinked. Then, she tilted her head. Arthit stared. Please. Don't make me explain why I have pink milk.

Fon's lips twitched. Then she let out a short laugh under her breath and smoothly switched directions, reaching for the pastel-pink drink instead.

"Mine's the pink milk Arthit, remember?...Thanks," she said innocently, taking a sip. "I was craving something sweet today."

Arthit released a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and nodded far too quickly. "Right. Yeah."

Next to him, Kongpob hadn't said a word, but when Arthit glanced sideways, he saw the familiar furrowed eyebrows.

Arthit narrowed his eyes at him. "What?"

"Nothing, P'Arthit," Kongpob replied smoothly. Hmp, what? Cat got your tongue when your crush is infront of you?

"Well then, goodbye to both of you," Fon said cheerfully, flashing a bright smile. "My dad's already outside."

She gave them a small wave and turned around, her bag swinging behind her as she disappeared down the pathway. Both Arthit and Kongpob stood awkwardly rooted in place, the air noticeably quieter without her presence.

When he finally glanced sideways, Arthit caught Kongpob already staring.

"What now?" he muttered, suspicious of the look on his face.

"...Still nothing," Kongpob said, lips twitching like he was holding back something.

Arthit sighed, brushing it off. "Let's just go—"

"Wait, P'," Kongpob suddenly stepped in front of him. "Can you wait for me at the school gate? I need to grab something from the canteen. I'll be quick."

"...Okay," Arthit replied slowly, watching him jog off like he was on a mission. What now?

He made his way to the school gates, leaned against the gatepost, iced coffee barely touched, eyes scrolling idly through his phone. It wasn't the worst way to pass time, but his thoughts kept drifting—not that he'd admit it.

Then footsteps.

Arthit looked up to see Kongpob approaching, something hidden behind his back, his expression far too pleased with himself.

"That was fast," Arthit said.

"I ran like my life depended on it," Kongpob said with a grin, then pulled a drink from behind his back.

Pink milk.

Arthit blinked. "...You bought that? you drink pink milk?"

"I don't," Kongpob said, offering the cup to him. "It's for you, P'."

"I don't want that," Arthit replied, already half-turning away.

"You sure?" Kongpob didn't lower the cup, unbothered. "You looked kinda heartbroken earlier giving yours away."

"I was not heartbroken," Arthit muttered.

"No?" Kongpob tilted his head, smirking. "Could've fooled me. I saw how your eyes lingered on the cup. Don't worry—I won't judge. Pink milk's a valid craving."

Arthit groaned, defeated, and finally took the pink drink from Kongpob's outstretched hand. He brought the straw to his lips and took a long, purposeful sip—mostly to shut the boy up. But the moment the sweetness hit his tongue, the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward despite himself.

"Fine. You got me. Happy now?"

Kongpob beamed. "Ecstatic."

Without missing a beat, Arthit thrust his own cup toward him. "Then this coffee's yours. It's starting to taste like regret."

Kongpob blinked, staring at the cup like it was a lit firecracker. His smile faltered just for a second.

"I only took one sip," Arthit muttered, rolling his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"I don't mind," Kongpob said—too fast, too eager—and before Arthit could second-guess the offer, he was already reaching for the cup.

The speed made Arthit pause. His brows lifted slightly. He likes coffee... that much?

But Kongpob didn't hesitate. He brought the straw to his lips and drank as if it were nothing—like he wasn't sipping from the same place Arthit had just touched.

Or maybe... he was thinking about that.

Arthit stared, momentarily frozen, his fingers fidgeting with the plastic rim of his new drink. He looked away quickly, heart ticking just a beat too fast.

"So," he said, clearing his throat. "You love coffee that much, huh?"

Kongpob's eyes flicked toward him with a familiar, knowing glint. "Yeah, I love it. Tastes like regret and... something sweet."

Arthit snorted under his breath. "You're so weird."

"And yet you waited," Kongpob shot back with a grin, stepping in line beside him.

"I said I would," Arthit muttered, picking up his pace—not enough to look suspicious, just enough to keep the flush on his cheeks from being too obvious.

Kongpob followed, smugness practically radiating off him.

"So... it was pink milk all along, huh?" he teased, drawing out the words. "Next time, I'll buy you your own. I can be your cover. P'Arthit"

Arthit didn't turn around. "Shut up, Kongpob" he muttered, but his ears, already red, gave him away.

Chapter Text

"Arthit! Your junior's here!"

Arthit looked up from the guitar in his lap at the sound of Fon's teasing voice. By the door stood Kongpob, dressed in their school's basketball uniform.

Earlier, Kongpob had asked if they could walk home together since his practice ended late. Arthit agreed—company wasn't such a bad idea. Moreover, they've been walking home now and then whenever Kongpob's practice coincided with his.

"Fon, he's also your junior" he grumbled, shooting her an annoyed look.

Fon just smiled teasingly and patted his head like he was a pet dog. They'd become much more at ease with each other since the pink milk incident. Apparently, Fon wasn't used to sugary drinks and couldn't sleep that night. Arthit had apologized profusely the next day, mortified.

"Tsk. Let's wrap this up, since someone's eager to go home," Nene snickered, casting a knowing glance at Arthit. While Yong, ever the romantic, quickly bid them goodbye saying he had a date with his girlfriend.

Arthit packed up his things and made his way to the door, locking eyes with Kongpob for a brief second.

"Arthit! Enjoy your junior-senior date~" Fon called after him with a wink. 

Arthit glanced back at Kongpob whose busy at his phone, thankful he didnt get to hear that. He glared at Fon grumbling how annoying she is while tugging Kongpob away by the back of the neck like a disobedient puppy.

Earlier that day, Fon had caught him with the BL manga he accidentally brought to school. He had no idea why he picked that day to stuff it in his bag—it was practically social suicide—but the story was too addicting to put down. Of course, Fon recognized it instantly and hadn't let him live it down since. He's just glad that Fon doesn't judge him for reading mangas' with that genre considering he's a guy.

As they descended the stairs, Arthit noticed Kongpob growing unusually quiet. Earlier, they decided to grab dinner before heading home since it was already late.

"The skewer place near the corner's really good," Arthit offered. "You'll thank me later."

Kongpob only nodded, lips pressed in a thin line.

They settled into one of the plastic tables set up on the sidewalk outside the stall. The air was cool, filled with the smell of grilled meat and the buzz of the busy street. Their table was wobbly and sticky in places, with oil-splattered condiments clustered in the middle.

Arthit picked up the laminated menu—greasy and nearly peeling at the corners—and waved at the auntie taking orders.

"I'll take one order of spicy pork skewers, please."

Then he turned to Kongpob, who was still oddly silent, his eyes drifting across the street, jaw tight. "Uh... chicken skewer," Kongpob finally said.

He didn't say another word. Just sat there, elbows resting on the table, lost in thought. Arthit furrowed his brows. Something was definitely off.

And him? Arthit was getting irritated. He agreed to walk home with Kongpob for the sake of company—only to be met with a series of grunted responses and long stretches of silence. His patience wore thin. He's not taking a brick wall of a company.

So, without much thought, he kicked the junior under the table. Not too hard, but enough to make a point. Kongpob flinched and looked up, blinking as if he just returned from another world.

"P'Arthit?"

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "What's your problem?"

Kongpob hesitated for half a second before replying with a small, practiced smile. "Oh, nothing P'. Just tired from practice earlier."

Arthit's forehead creased. "Then you should've just gone home! What are you doing here?"

Kongpob's expression flickered with surprise at the sudden outburst, but then he smiled again—this time softer, more genuine. "Getting my energy back."

Arthit rolled his eyes and looked away, ears slightly warm. Their food arrived not long after, saving him from having to come up with a retort. Arthit busied himself pouring water into their cups and motioning for Kongpob to watch.

"This is the right way to eat these," he muttered, sliding the skewer sideways across his plate to scrape the meat off in one smooth motion.

Kongpob watched attentively, nodded once, and followed suit.

For a while, the only sound between them was the hum of the street and the occasional clang of metal skewers on plastic plates. Despite the earlier tension, it was a comfortable silence. A kind of ease they'd somehow developed—neither of them needing to say much when food was involved.

That was until Kongpob spoke, his voice sudden and low.

"You and P'Fon seem close."

Arthit nearly choked on his water. He gave a shrug, recovering. "She's annoying but nice. Easy to talk to."

A pause.

"Do you like her?"

Arthit looked at him, squinting slightly. "Why? Do you?"

Kongpob's face shifted, caught somewhere between flustered and thrown off guard. He opened his mouth but didn't reply.

Arthit tilted his head, about to press further, when his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure across the street. Yong was walking beside Fon, their postures casual but unmistakably close. The way Fon smiled up at Yong wasn't unfamiliar—but seeing them now, side by side like that, stirred something.

He glanced at Kongpob.

"Oh."

Kongpob followed his gaze and stiffened. His eyes locked onto the two figures, expression unreadable. After a beat, he spoke—too calmly.

"Seems like... they're together?"

Arthit inhaled quietly. Shit. He didn't know if Kongpob truly liked Fon, but if the rumors had any merit, this couldn't be easy for him.

He shifted in his seat, unsure what to say. Then finally, with a forced casualness, he muttered, "Well... sometimes, it's just hard. Y'know? When the person you like is already with someone else."

He wasn't sure why he said it that way—maybe it was an attempt at empathy. Or maybe it was easier to speak in generalities.

Kongpob didn't respond immediately. He just stared at him.

A strange silence hung between them now, much heavier from before. Tighter. Sharper. Kongpob's lips parted slightly like he was going to say something, but instead he just blinked and looked down at his nearly empty plate.

"...Yeah," he said softly. "Must be hard."

Arthit turned back to his food and continued to eat, ignoring how cold it had gotten. Thinking that his junior's heart must be broken right now.

What he didn't know was that Kongpob wasn't looking at Fon anymore. He was looking at him.

After finishing his part of the meal, Arthit stood up and muttered something about going to the restroom at the back. But instead of heading there, he made his way toward the counter. He quietly paid for both of their meals, handing the bills to the auntie behind the stall with a polite nod.

As he walked back, he paused just before stepping outside.He could see Kongpob sitting at the plastic table, chin resting on his hand, staring off into the street. His usually bright eyes were distant, almost unreadable in the dim glow of the streetlights.

Arthit let out a small sigh.

He'd never had a proper crush before. Nothing he could name, anyway. But the sight of Kongpob looking that... small and quiet made something twist inside him. He didn't like it. He didn't know how to fix it, either.

All he knew was, he wanted to see Kongpob smile again.

He stepped out casually, acting like a cool senior who just treated his brokenhearted junior. "I already paid," Arthit said as he approached the table.

Kongpob blinked and turned to him, surprised. "Eh? You did?"

"Yeah," Arthit shrugged. "So stop sitting there like a statue. Let's go."

Kongpob grinned, the smile slowly crawling back onto his face. "Aw, you treat me now, P'?"

"I'll add it to your tab."

"What tab? I didn't agree to that!"

Arthit started walking, rolling his eyes. "Exactly."

Kongpob jogged a little to catch up beside him, now with a bounce in his step. They walked in step, the chilly night air folding around them as the street lights painted long shadows in front of their feet. Arthit dared a quick glance at the boy beside him, whose smile had finally returned.

Yeah. That's better.

The pedestrian signal blinked green. Arthit nudged Kongpob to remind him to move, but the junior didn't budge.

This was the usual spot where they split ways after walking home with Tew and Knot—Kongpob always crossed to the other side while Arthit stayed on this one.

Arthit gave him a look. "What now?"

Kongpob idly kicked at a crack in the pavement, eyes fixed on the dusky sky. "I don't wanna go home yet."

Arthit frowned. "I thought you were tired?"

"I got my energy back," Kongpob replied, flashing a sly grin. "Thanks to a certain someone."

Arthit groaned and gave him a gentle shove toward the crosswalk. "Then go home and use that energy for your homework."

Kongpob laughed, stumbling a little as he crossed the street. Once he reached the other side, he suddenly turned around and waved both arms enthusiastically, like someone saying goodbye at the airport.

Arthit raised one hand in return, already turning away—until he noticed Kongpob pointing at his phone.

He squinted. "What—?"

Fishing his own phone from his pocket, he saw a new message.

Kongpob: Wait for me, P'Arthit!

Arthit blinked. "Huh?"

Before he could even process it, Kongpob was already sprinting down the sidewalk, disappearing around the corner.

"...What the hell?" Arthit muttered, thoroughly confused. Still, he didn't leave. The red pedestrian light flashed behind him as he wandered over to the bus stop and dropped onto the bench with a sigh.

A few minutes later, something cold pressed suddenly against his cheek.

Startled, Arthit looked up—to find Kongpob standing there, grinning and holding out a familiar cup of pink milk.

"Now you're the one who owes me, P'," Kongpob said, his voice smug and far too pleased with himself.

"You—what?" Arthit blinked. "You ran off just to—"

Before he could finish, Kongpob thrust the drink into his hands and immediately bolted back across the road, not even pretending to hide his grin.

He waved as he reached the other side. Arthit stood, stunned, still holding the pink milk.

"That's not how it works!" Arthit shouted after him.

But Kongpob was already climbing the steps of the bus, turning just in time to stick his tongue out with a triumphant laugh before disappearing inside.

Arthit was left staring across the street, the cup of pink milk still in his hand, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.

"...Stupid Kongpob," he muttered.

The next day, Arthit walked through the school grounds, slinging his bag over one shoulder. He noticed small clusters of students gathered under trees and by the benches, huddled around their phones. A hush of gasps and excited murmurs buzzed in the air.

Someone had clearly dropped gossip and based on the way jaws were dropping and fingers were flying across screens, it was something big. But Arthit didn't have access to the school's Freedom Wall page. He never bothered to join it—he thought it was all nonsense and drama.

He shook his head. Probably just someone's relationship getting aired again. Not my business.

But the moment he stepped inside the classroom, he knew it was his business.

Fon practically rushed him before he could even reach his seat. Her face was pale, brows furrowed in worry.

"Arthit," she whispered urgently, "did you see it?"

"See what?" he asked, confused.

Fon bit her lip, glanced around to make sure no one was close enough to hear. "Someone posted a photo. Of Knot and Tew. Kissing."

Time stopped for a second. Arthit blinked. "What?"

Fon nodded grimly. "At some empty hallway, I guess. It's blurry, but it's obviously them."

Arthit's stomach dropped. "Who posted it?"

"I don't know. They covered their name and captioned it with a disgusting slur." Fon's fists were clenched. "Everyone's talking about it."

As if on cue, a group of boys across the room burst into laughter—loud, pointed, and ugly. "Didn't know the class president's a faggot! Gives me goosebumps just thinking about it," one of them sneered, loud enough for the whole room to hear.

"Yo, Arthit!" another voice rang out, soaked in mockery. "Your best friend's into guys, huh?"

A third boy leaned back in his chair, hands performing a crude gesture meant to imitate something vile. "What about you, huh? That's why you two are always glued to the hip—birds of the same feather, right?"

The room wasn't exactly silent, but the atmosphere shifted. A few students glanced away. Some awkwardly chuckled. Others just stared, watching to see what Arthit would do.

Arthit felt something blocking his chest, his heart hurt not because of the slurs, but for his friend. His fists clenched and His jaw tightened so hard it ached. He didn't say anything. Not yet. He just stand there, breathing through his nose, trying not to explode.

Because this wasn't just about Knot and Tew anymore. They weren't teasing. They weren't curious. This was hate. This was cruelty hiding behind laughter.

Fon reached out, placing a calming hand on his arm. "Don't," she murmured.

Arthit glared at those guys and bolted out of the door without saying anything. But his heart was racing. He needed to find his friend. It wasn't their responsibility to say anything.

What mattered was that someone had violated them, exposed them, and now everyone was laughing as if their privacy was a joke. 

And for the first time in a long while, Arthit didn't feel like this world was safe.

He needed to find Knot.

Chapter Text

Each step felt heavy, his heart pounding loud in his ears. The hallway outside was too bright. Too open. Like all the oxygen had been sucked from the world. He didn't know where he was going until his feet took him there.

Behind the old gym building. The spot where they used to hang out during breaks back in first year. Quiet. Shaded by trees. Almost no one passed by.

And there, sitting on the low concrete bench, knees drawn up and arms wrapped around them—was Knot.

His head was down. Even from a distance, Arthit could see his eyes were red.

Arthit approached slowly, each step hesitant. His mouth opened. Closed. Then finally, he managed, "Knot."

Knot didn't look up.

Arthit sat beside him, not too close to crowd him, but near enough to say I'm here.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Knot let out a sharp breath. "They're everywhere now."

Arthit swallowed hard, fists curling in his lap. "Who the hell took that photo?"

Knot didn't answer—because he didn't know either. Still not meeting his eyes, he asked, "They're saying stuff about you too, aren't they?"

"Yeah," Arthit said quietly. "I don't care."

Knot gave a bitter laugh. "You do care. You hate this kind of attention."

"I care more about you," Arthit replied, this time without hesitation.

"I don't even know what to think," Knot muttered, voice tight. "We weren't even kissing in that photo. The angle just made it look that way. I didn't think— I didn't think anyone was around."

Arthit's eyes widened. He grabbed Knot's hands, trying to pull him up. "Then we'll explain! It's not true! Let's go—"

"I already did explain, Art." Knot pulled his hands back with a frustrated shake. "They didn't believe me. They're already deciding what punishment we'll get. And I keep thinking about Tew. He didn't show up at school. You know how strict his parents are."

"You'll get through this together," Arthit said, softer now. "You didn't do anything wrong. Don't let them make you feel like you did."

Knot finally looked at him. Eyes glassy, but relieved by his friend's comfort. He gave a small nod. "I know. I'm just scared for Tew. I don't want anything bad to happen to him."

He rubbed his palms against his pants like he was trying to scrub the fear away. "I've been texting him since this morning. No replies. Not even seen."

Arthit didn't know what to say. He wasn't really familiar with the ins and outs of his friend's relationship, but he hoped—truly hoped—that nothing bad had happened to Tew either. He bit the inside of his cheek. He knew how this school operated, quick to punish, slow to protect.

They sat on the old, rusting bench beneath the tree—the one they'd sat on so many times before. The metal was worn, chipped, and faded by the sun. There was nothing left to say. Nothing they could do. So they sat there quietly, exhaling one tired sigh after another as the silence wrapped gently around them.

.....

It was lunchtime, Arthit sat at his desk, unmoving, waiting for the verdict on Knot's punishment from the school. Even with the comics he bought earlier cannot make his interest go up.

It felt unfair. Cruel, even. But that was the way of things here. Their school was religious. Any "moral misconduct" was met with swift, unforgiving discipline. So when Knot finally stepped into the room, looking drained and hollow-eyed, Arthit rose from his seat without thinking and pull Knot into the hallways.

"Did they really suspend you?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

"They already decided," Knot murmured, not quite meeting his gaze. "Stripped me of my position something about not cut out for a role model. Three-day suspension. Same goes for Tew, once he comes back."

Arthit's chest tightened. "That's bullshit."

Knot let out a dry, bitter laugh. "It's a religious school, Art. Being gay is a sin, remember?"

A long silence hung between them. Then Arthit spoke again, softer this time. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not doing anything. For not standing up when they—when they said all those things."

Knot  turned to look at him, expression unreadable. "What would that have changed?"

Arthit looked down. "Maybe nothing. But maybe... you wouldn't feel so alone."

Knot leaned back against the wall, eyes falling shut. "You've always been there, Art. Even when you didn't say anything. I noticed."

That made something twist inside Arthit. He wasn't sure what it was—guilt, maybe. Or something deeper. Something quieter.

"I just wish," Knot said quietly, "they saw us like people. Not labels. Not rumors. Just... people."

Arthit looked at him—really looked. This was the same boy who used to race him to the canteen. Who always saved him a seat. Who once lent him his umbrella and got soaked in the rain and who always wake him up before he gets late to class. His bestfriend who knows him well.

"I see you," Arthit said, voice steady this time. "Always have."

Knot smiled faintly. "Thanks. That's enough."

Arthit didn't respond. He didn't trust his voice not to break. So he just stayed there, beside his friend, as the world spun too fast, too loud, too cruel—hoping that, for this moment at least, silence could be enough.

—

A week had passed.

Tew hadn't visited Knot since the incident, and neither Kongpob were anywhere near their classroom. The old routine—their quiet corners, their shared jokes—was gone.

When Knot returned from suspension, there was no mention of Tew at all. Arthit noticed the change immediately—his friend, once lively and outspoken, now kept to himself during breaks. The easy smiles were gone, replaced by blank stares and silence. Arthit had messaged Kongpob once to ask how Tew was doing, but even he didn't seem to know.

Kongpob:  He doesn't talk to me either. His parents pick him up every day.

Arthit didn't press. If Knot wouldn't talk about it, he had to respect that too. But while it seemed like everyone else had moved on from the scandal, Arthit knew Knot was still stuck in it.

Because of the incident, all after-school activities had been temporarily suspended—including their band rehearsals. And since that night on the sidewalk, Arthit hadn't seen Kongpob either. Their chats had dwindled, both of them caught up in the chaos of final exams.

But with exams now behind them, things were slowly returning to normal. The school fair was scheduled for tomorrow. Rehearsals had finally wrapped up, and their band performance was one of the most anticipated events. Arthit continued taken up vocals with Fon, and in the process, the two had grown surprisingly close.

Still... his thoughts wandered. Maybe Kongpob would come to the fair. Maybe he'd bring Tew with him. Therefore, he whips out his phone and texted Kongpob about the event.

Knot needed a push, and maybe seeing Tew—even from a distance—could help.

Yeah, Arthit told himself. He's doing this for his friend.

—

The crowd erupted in cheers as their class's turns to present, their band took the stage, the energy crackling through the schoolyard like static.

Arthit took a slow breath, fingers tightening around the mic stand as his eyes adjusted to the flood of stage lights.

Beside him, Fon stood radiant under the glow, calm and confident as always. She shot him a quick wink, playful and grounding. Nene gave her guitar a bold strum, while Yong twirled a drumstick between his fingers like he'd been doing this all his life.

The first chord rang out.

The crowd moved instantly—clapping, cheering, some already singing along.

Arthit's voice wavered on the opening lines, a slight tremble he couldn't shake. But the music held him steady. Then—he saw him.

Kongpob stood near the back of the crowd. Not cheering. Not moving. Just watching. His gaze steady, his expression unreadable but soft. Hands tucked into the pockets of his school jacket.

Their eyes met.

And just like that, something eased inside Arthit's chest. The nerves didn't vanish—but they softened. He found his footing. His voice steadied. He sang louder. Stood straighter.

For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them.

When the final note faded and the applause swelled around them, Arthit slipped offstage before anyone could stop him. Fon was quickly swept into a crowd of classmates, her laughter echoing behind him as he made his quiet escape.

Kongpob waited at the edge of the crowd, half-lit by the glow of fairy lights strung across the trees.

"Good job, P'Arthit," he said, holding out a bottle of water. His voice was warm, but there was a faint hesitation behind it. A flicker in his eyes. The kind that didn't match the smile on his face.

"Thanks," Arthit murmured, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. He felt flushed from the performance, from the heat, from the weight of being seen by a huge crowd.

"Wanna walk?"

Kongpob nodded after a second. "Yeah."

They moved toward the edge of the fairgrounds, away from the food stalls and loudspeakers, weaving through groups of students and bursts of music. With every step, the noise faded behind them, replaced by the distant buzz of cicadas and the soft crunch of gravel underfoot.

And still, that flicker in Kongpob's eyes lingered—like something unsaid had been sitting there for a while, waiting. He keeps on looking ahead, lost in his own world.

Arthit was the first to break the silence. "Did you come with Tew?"

"Yeah," Kongpob replied, eyes fixed somewhere ahead. "He's with P'Knot right now."

So that's why he didn't see his friend in the crowd earlier. Arthit glanced at him, catching the way Kongpob's fingers tightened slightly around the bottle of water he held. "So... what's up?"

It's kinda awkward...why did I invite him to walk again?

Arthit waited for the other to voice out as Kongpob didn't answer right away. The pause stretched between them like something fragile. He looked around them and noticed as the stalls became less and less.

"I've just been... thinking a lot lately," he said finally, his voice low. "About school. About everything."

Arthit narrowed his eyes slightly, not convinced. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing serious," Kongpob answered a little too quickly, his lips curving into a faint smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just exams. You know how it is."

Arthit wanted to push further—but something in Kongpob's tone told him not to. Not yet. There was more beneath the surface, something weighing the younger boy down. But if Kongpob didn't want to share it now, Arthit wouldn't force it.

The night air had cooled, and the distant music from the fair faded until it felt like they were walking in a different world. They ended up near the edge of campus, past the buildings and behind the old garden—where the trees rustled gently in the breeze.

Kongpob suddenly turned toward him, eyes reflecting the light. "P'Arthit... can I ask you something?"

Arthit turned to answer but suddenly lights hover around the sky and the loud sound of fireworks crisp hit their ears. The fireworks started just as they reached the clearing, bursting into color above the schoolyard. The sky flickered with reds, blues, and golds, casting shifting shadows over their faces.

Then Arthit looked at him, the glow of a firework briefly lighting his face. "Yeah?"

Kongpob hesitated. Then exhaled. "What's your take on... liking the same gender?"

There was a pause. Not from shock—but from the weight of the question. Arthit lowered his gaze, watching the dirt at his feet. It seems like he's not the only still affected by it.

"The world's cruel, Kongpob," he said quietly. "You've seen what happened to Knot and Tew."

Kongpob nodded, his expression unreadable. "But...are you open to that kind of love?"

Arthit bit the inside of his cheek. "Yeah, I dont judge them but for me I don't know. Any relationship isn't really my priority right now. I'm the only child—so my family expects me to study first then settle down, eventually. You know. A proper family. So... I guess, as of now... I can say that I'm straight."

There was a long, quiet beat. A firework lit the sky behind Kongpob's head like a halo. He smiled—soft, small—but it didn't touch his eyes.

"I haven't even started yet," Kongpob murmured, barely audible beneath the next explosion of color.

Arthit looked at him. At the way he was staring up at the sky, expression distant, like the moon might offer an answer he couldn't ask for. They stood like that for a while—two figures beneath a sky filled with noise and light, with too many words left unsaid.

Arthit didn't quite understand what happened that night. He could tell Kongpob had more to say, but chose not to. And Arthit let him. He let the moment pass.

The next day, summer break began.

They didn't see each other again.

Arthit told himself it was fine. They'd meet again next semester.

Chapter Text

The summer break turned out to be dull for Arthit.

Unlike his classmates, who constantly posted about their vacations on social media, Arthit was chronically offline. He spent his days watching movies from his backlog—usually on pirated websites riddled with ads that popped up with every click. At night, he'd read comics and newly released manga until the sun started to rise, which was his cue to finally sleep until the afternoon.

This had always been his routine every break: quietly holed up in his room, surrounded by the same four walls. No conversations. No plans. He was used to it—mentally logged off and lost in fiction.

One day during that uneventful summer, he received a message out of the blue. He was in the middle of reading an unofficial scan of a manga he'd gotten hooked on when the notification popped up.

It was from his junior.

He instinctively wanted to ignore it, the same way he had done with Knot, who messaged him from Korea asking what foods he wanted to bring to Thailand. Arthit had read that one, planned to reply later, and got back to it 8–10 hours after. Maybe.

However, he still check what the message is about, curiosity killing him. 

Kongpob: P'Arthit, how's break?

Arthit: sleeping so far 😴

Kongpob: you free some time? We could hang out or something.

Arthit stared at the message for a few seconds, he's surprised at the least that Kongpob is asking him to hang out. Mainly because they only ever encounter each other during the school year. Thus, it's an unfamiliar territory for him, then he let the screen dim as sleep is taking him away.

He'd reply later. He wasn't really in the mood to go out. Or talk. Or do anything, really, except binge stories and sleep like there was no tomorrow.

So, he slept.

Eight hours later, he woke to the sound of his mom cooking in the kitchen. When he finally checked his phone, he realized he'd left Kongpob on read for the entire time. With a groggy sigh, he typed out a reply:

Arthit: Kinda tired lately lol. Did not want to get up from bed anytime sooner.

The "seen" from Kongpob didn't appear immediately. But eventually, it came.

Kongpob: It's okay P', enjoy your break!

Arthit: You too.

No reply followed after that.

Arthit shrugged, tossed his phone to the side of the bed, and parted ways from his bed, ready to tackle his mom for food. He didn't realize that would be the last time Kongpob ever messaged him.

Not until summer ended.

---

The new semester began, and with it came the final stretch—the last semester of high school for seniors like Arthit. There was something bittersweet about it, knowing everything was winding down. Uniforms felt more worn-in, the hallways more familiar, and teachers more forgiving. Everyone was already talking about college entrance exams, and graduation plans.

Days after the semester began, things settled into a familiar rhythm. Knot resumed his role as class president—no surprise there. He was still the most reliable guy in the room, and no one else wanted the job anyway.

What surprised Arthit, though, was his own sudden rise in popularity.

It all started after he performed at the school fair last year. He hadn't done it for the attention, really. It just felt like something he should do before leaving high school behind. But now? A bunch of underclassmen had started adding him on Facebook—too many, honestly. He didn't accept all of them. Still, messages came in now and then. So did letters. Even small gifts.

Just yesterday, a junior had handed him a packed snack and a bottle of pink milk. He thanked her, of course. It was thoughtful. But deep down, he didn't want the attention.

Fon teased him about it constantly.

Apparently, someone had posted about him on the school's freedom wall. According to Fon, there were a few too many posts. "People are crushing on you left and right, Mr. Singer," she'd said, nudging his arm with a smirk where Arthit only rolled his eyes on.

Another new thing is also his friendship with Fon.

It was hard not to get close to Fon after their performance together.

She was outgoing and talkative—a sharp contrast to the polite, quiet, "cute girl" image she showed to people she wasn't close to. Around him, she was blunt and quick-witted, and surprisingly easy to talk to.

Therefore, their friend circle of two became three—Him, Knot and Fon. 

Some even speculated that they were dating, but no, they're strictly friends. Sometimes, she even recommends BL manga to him, which he politely refuses, as he doesn't want to repeat the experience of reading another—especially when he had already thoroughly enjoyed the last one he bought with Kongpob.

Speaking of Kongpob.

Apparently, he transferred schools—along with Tew.

It wasn't until a full week into the new semester that Arthit noticed something felt off. The school grounds were as loud and busy as ever, but there were two familiar faces he hadn't seen even once.

He considered asking Knot about it—just casually—but stopped himself. The topic felt too delicate.

Knot had mentioned during summer break that he and Tew had broken up. It had come up unexpectedly, slipped into a conversation when they were walking home after grabbing noodles. "It was mutual," Knot had said. "No drama, no hard feelings." Arthit had nodded, not knowing what else to say.

So, no—he wouldn't ask.

Still, that didn't stop him from checking Kongpob's Facebook once, only one time.

It hadn't been updated in weeks. Same profile picture, same posts from last semester, still no new activity. Not that he was stalking him. He wasn't. He was just... curious. That's all. Curious.

Then one afternoon, after PE, the pieces finally fell into place. Jay, who was toweling the sweat off his face after practice, sighed and muttered, "Shame about Kongpob, though. We really plan to give him the captain position. Transferred just when he was getting really good."

Arthit blinked. "He transferred?"

Jay looked over. "You didn't know? Yeah, left with Tew. Heard his family moved or something."

Arthit didn't say anything else. He nodded once, then turned away to grab his water bottle. He took a long sip, letting the cold water fill his mouth while the quiet sank in. That was it. No formal announcement. No message. No goodbye. Just gone.

He felt at loss.

He and Kongpob are not exactly close, but he's sure that they're friends somehow. Maybe Kongpob just didn't know how to break it to him or was just really busy to say anything about it. But still.

As the weeks passed, Arthit didn't let it bother him. He had other things to focus on—senior life wasn't exactly forgiving. Between research papers, group projects, and looming college entrance exams, he barely had time to breathe, let alone dwell on people who'd quietly disappeared.

Kongpob? Barely crossed his mind. Or so he told himself.

Then, one night, something exploded.

Apparently, Fon had stumbled upon a post on the school's freedom wall. It was a photo—blurry, slightly off-angle, but unmistakably of them. Him and Fon, sitting across from each other in a newly opened café near campus. The caption was vague, but the comments weren't. People were speculating. "Are they dating?" "Soft launch?" "Cute couple alert?"

Fon had immediately messaged him, screenshots and all.

Fon: Arthit. What is this?? Why are people saying we're dating?? I hate everyone.

Arthit: lol whatever

Fon: NOT whatever!!! This is gonna scare off my future suitors 😤

Arthit: tragic.

Fon: I SWEAR IF THIS RUINS MY LOVE LIFE—

Truth was, he didn't care. Not really. They had gone to the café after class—Knot was supposed to come, but bailed last-minute for class rep duties, leaving just the two of them. He barely even remembered the photo being taken.

Fon tried to clear things up in the comments, but it only made her look hilariously defensive. Which, of course, only made it worse. And Arthit? He laughed. Actually laughed. She was flailing in the replies like someone falsely accused of murder.

It was all harmless noise, really. A short-lived buzz. Something to distract from the stress of deadlines and the suffocating thought that this was their last year together as a class.

Then, out of nowhere, something unexpected happened.

After months of silence, after Arthit had convinced himself that he didn't care, a familiar name lit up his screen.

Kongpob:  P'Arthit...

Before Arthit could open it—before he could even react—the message disappeared. Deleted.

Arthit stared at the screen for a few seconds longer, thumb hovering, as if he could somehow undo it. But it was gone.

And suddenly, the room felt quieter than it had been a moment ago.

He wanted to ask, Why didn't you tell me anything? But what for?

So what if Kongpob didn't tell him he was transferring? It's not like they were close. Not really. Not enough to warrant goodbyes or explanations. They were just... school acquaintances. Occasional chatmates. Nothing worth holding onto. Kongpob was only around because his cousin happened to be dating Arthit's bestfriend. And now that that's over—well, so is whatever connection they had.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself. He didn't care. He had no reason to. He was busy. He had his own life. Sometimes people disappear, and you just let them. That's how it works.

Besides, he wasn't going to be the one to ask. Definitely not. That would make it seem like he overly cared.

And it didn't. It really didn't.

Until after his high school graduation, when he was clearing out his old Facebook messages—and stumbled across the thread. Only, the name was gone.

Kongpob Suthiluck's Facebook account had completely disappeared.

At first he didn't know how to react and only shrugged after it. Kongpob planned to have a silent exit then he's giving it. It's not like they knew each other long. He's just curious, that's all.

Life went on, unconsciously he pushed the memory of that junior to the furthest back of his mind—shelved like an old book he never meant to reread. The moments they shared during that brief stretch of time faded into a distant, fleeting memory—one he completely forgot.

Maybe.

Time passed. Arthit took the entrance exam at SSU and passed. He enrolled in Engineering along with Knot, while Fon chose Political Science. Occasionally, the three of them would meet up and share a meal, catch up between busy schedules, pretend life hadn't changed all that much.

His first year of college came quickly. He met new people—people he was genuinely grateful for. There was Bright, with his loud mouth and louder laughter. Tootah, who always had snacks in his bag. Prem, who somehow managed to stay calm no matter how messy things got.

Together, they went through the chaos of SOTUS. Together, they survived it.

They'd been inseparable ever since.

And now, Arthit is a second-year Engineering student. A little older, a little more tired. Focused on the present. Firmly moving forward.

The past? It stayed right where he left it.

Chapter Text

A new batch of first-years had just come in, and Arthit, along with the rest of his friends, volunteered to be part of the second-year SOTUS committee. They were mostly responsible for handling tasks like logistics, organizing activities led by third-years, teaching the freshmen the department cheer, and generally being the "good" seniors—to balance out the brutal attitudes of the third-years.

In short, they were basically angels in the eyes of the freshmen.

And Bright was loving every bit of it—much to Arthit's annoyance.

He never stopped bragging about how many numbers he could collect from the first-years. Arthit hated to break it to him, but they probably only saw Bright as a loud, overly friendly kiss-ass of a senior.

Knot, on the other hand, was always genuinely high on energy every time the SOTUS meetings happened. And for good reason—Tew had also enrolled in Engineering. They didn't talk, as far as Arthit could tell, but he didn't really care either. He figured Knot knew what he was doing.

Besides, things are different now. Same-sex couples were more open compared to their high school days. These days, Knot is more confident. He had already come out to his parents, and to the rest of their circle here in college. Albeit, not everyone knows.

Arthit, meanwhile, mostly stayed behind the scenes. He wasn't allergic to socializing with the freshmen, not really. He just didn't want to keep smiling all the time or acting overly enthusiastic for the show. And no—it definitely wasn't because he was trying to avoid the attention of a certain someone. Definitely not.

SOTUS has been going on for a few days now. The new batch was settling in, and, as expected, some names were already floating around in casual senior gossip.

One, in particular, had caught everyone's attention.

0062. Kongpob Suthiluck.

It hadn't even been the first full week of SOTUS when Kongpob already made a scene. Not the bad kind. The kind that had the rest of his batch looking at him like some sort of revolutionary hero. Apparently, he questioned the 1,000-signature task assigned by P'Deer, one of the more theatrical third-years.

"What's the purpose of this?" he asked, standing straight, voice clear, unfazed by the glares from the upperclassmen.

Arthit wasn't there to witness it firsthand, since he opted to go home early after distributing the nametags to the freshmen at that time. But the story spread fast, by the end of the day, half the department was talking about the brave, annoyingly composed freshman who dared to speak up.

Arthit spent some time last night remembering this 0062, as much as he wants to deny it. However the memories of their interaction is kind of hazy in his mind except the fact that he just transferred to other schools with no say.

But one thing is for sure, Arthit didn't remember Kongpob being like that. Maybe, more reserved? But who was he to care anyway? People grow. Change. Evolve. Even himself wasn't the same anymore.

Enough of that 0062.

Right now, he was hunched over a half-finished assignment in the corner of the student lounge, racing a deadline with tired eyes and too much caffeine in his system. Around him, the freshmen were scattered all over the building, scrambling to collect signatures from their seniors to complete the task assigned by P'Deer.

He noticed a few glancing his way, eyes darting, hands gripping their notebooks nervously, but none of them approached. Arthit even tried to smile at that one freshman who only ended up running away, much to his confusion.

P'Deer happened to pass by just in time to witness the scene and, of course, couldn't help but make a comment.

"Oh? Already exuding future Head Hazer energy," he teased.

Arthit scowled. "Not happening."

No matter what anyone said, he couldn't picture himself in that role. Him? A Head Hazer? With his smooth-looking face that his friends always teased him about? Not a chance.

Unless I grow my hair out... or get a beard? He snorted at the thought.

Maybe it was the way he looked—focused, serious, unapproachable. Or maybe it was just his naturally overbearing aura, as Bright so fondly described it. Not that he minded. He had more important things to do than plaster fake smiles and sign notebooks. Like finishing this damn assignment before midnight.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over his table.

Arthit sighed and looked up. Bright again.

"What now, Bright?" he muttered, eyes already flicking back to his paper.

"P'Arthiiit naaaa... Can I have your signature?" Bright whined, holding out one of the freshmen notebooks with a ridiculous grin on his face.

Arthit put his pen down, deadpan. "Go away."

He reached out, not to sign, but to smack him with the notebook. Bright yelped, dodged, and sprinted off laughing like a child on a sugar high.

Arthit shook his head and returned to his assignment. Peace at last.

Until—another shadow.

He didn't even look this time. "Go away, you ass. I'm not signing you. I'm busy. Go do something useful with your time."

Silence. Just a beat of stillness.

Then, someone cleared their throat. "...P'Arthit."

That voice wasn't Bright's. Arthit looked up—and froze.

Kongpob stood there, notebook in hand, expression unreadable but composed. For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Kongpob said, "Can't I get your signature?"

Arthit didn't know what to say. He only stared at the other, brow slightly furrowed, like Kongpob had just interrupted a private thought he didn't even know he was having.

That look alone seemed to make Kongpob shift uneasily on his feet, fingers adjusting the notebook against his chest.For someone who had confidently questioned upperclassmen just days ago, he suddenly looked... unsure.

Arthit cleared his throat. He had half a mind to give Kongpob a task, make him sing or shout something ridiculous but he stopped himself. He's just too tired.

"Give it," he said flatly, reaching for the notebook.

Kongpob handed it over without a word. Arthit noticed how he shifted his weight from the other side of his feet, indicating uneasiness. Arthit can't fathom why would that other guy subject himself to torture of getting his signature.

He didn't care nonetheless and signed his name quickly, with none of the flair or fake encouragement he'd given to the more sociable freshmen earlier. Just a name. Nothing more.

"There," he said, returning the notebook.

Kongpob reached out to the notebook, safely tucking it in his arms. Arthit expected him to move along in his merryway but he did not attempt any move, instead he stayed still.

Arthit frowned. "What now?"

He put his pen and thoughts aside, determined to make this junior go away as he was proving to be having the difficult time to finish what he's writing. He watched Kongpob take a seat in front of him, not having any qualms on what he's doing to the other. He smiled, determined with a newfound mission that Arthit can't follow through.

Kongpob leaned slightly closer, still wearing that insufferably calm expression. "Busy?"

Arthit let out a sharp breath through his nose. "Uh, as you can see—the papers, the pens, the laptop—no, I'm not busy. I just love wasting my time writing nonsensical things in my free time."

There was a beat of silence. Then Kongpob grinned wider. "You're still dramatic, P'Arthit."

Arthit, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You call this dramatic?"

Kongpob tilted his head, playful. "It wouldn't be you without it, part of your charm"

Arthit stared at him, words caught somewhere between his brain and tongue. He tried his best to think of a response but he watched as the other get up from his seat, preparing to leave with Arthit's voice with him.

"Thanks for the signature, Phi. I'll see you around."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Arthit staring at his desk, feeling somehow more unsettled than before.

—

That night, Arthit was busy drying his hair when a message notification sounded from his phone. Curious as to who was messaging this late at night checked his phone from the bedside table.

It was Tootah, lamenting about the quiz they will take tomorrow, asking if anyone already studied for it. Then Bright and Prem casually replied that they still did not open any of their notes.

Tsk, like they had taken down notes.

Tootah proceeded to reply saying how he was validated with having companions who still did not study, but Arthit, wanting to put pressure on his friends to make them study replied

Arthit:  I already finished studying for tomorrow.

Tootah:  That's why I didn't bother asking you. I know you'll be done the minute we start opening our books.

Prem:  Why bother?

Bright:  Perhaps we can seek your noble guidance, dearest Arthit? Kindly spoon-feed me knowledge.

Arthit:  Shouldn't you all be studying now?

Tootah:  I was only pressured by you rather than inspired, thanks a lot

Bright: Party pooper

He contemplated replying—he still had plans to revise and do a final review for tomorrow's quick assessment. But it seemed his hands had a mind of their own, tapping open the message that had been lingering in the second row of his inbox.

Kongpob:  P'Arthit, good evening.

Arthit:  Yes?

A few seconds passed.

Kongpob:  Nothing much. Just thought I'd check in. See how your day went.

Arthit:   Busy. Yours?

Kongpob:  Surprisingly decent. Got yelled at a bit by the third years, but I consider that a rite of passage.

Arthit:  Congrats. You're officially traumatized. Only four more years of this.

Kongpob: Wow, so optimistic. I feel so supported.

Arthit:  You should. I don't say that to just anyone.

Kongpob: I feel honored, P'Arthit. 🥺 You know, I didn't know that you'll get in Engineering

Arthit rolled his eyes. He wasn't even looking at his notes anymore.

Arthit: And so are you. Why are you even messaging me? You're not even my direct line code.

Kongpob: I just liked talking to you.

That made Arthit pause, caught off guard by the other's sudden boldness. He stared at the message, stunned into stillness for a few seconds, before finally typing back.

Arthit:  You know... we used to chat before. Quite a bit, actually.

There was a longer pause now on Kongpob's end. Then—

Kongpob:  Hmm? I don't quite remember that, P'Arthit.

Arthit scoffed at his phone, a crooked, bitter smile tugging at his lips. What—was he wrong about all of it? Who was the one who disappeared? Who deleted an entire account like it was nothing—like forgetting people, potential friendships, was just that easy? Not him. It was Kongpob.

Arthit: Oh? My bad. Must've been a fever dream, then.

Kongpob:  Must've been a good one if you still remember it.

Arthit:  Must've been forgettable if you don't.

Kongpob: Maybe I'm just pretending not to, so I have a reason to talk to you again.

Arthit:  That sounds like a you problem.

Kongpob:  It's a P'Arthit problem too. Because here we are, still talking.

Arthit chose not to reply, frustrated with himself for even spending time talking to this freshman. Kongpob spoke like they were close—but as far as Arthit could remember, they weren't. Not really. And what was with him not admitting they'd talked before? Now Arthit was starting to question his own memory.

Chapter Text

Arthit doesn't even know why he signed up for this. All he did was add another responsibility to his already overflowing plate as a second-year student. It's not like he can't handle it—he can—but juggling academics and the never-ending tasks from the hazing committee had left him perpetually sleep-deprived and lowkey questioning all his life choices.

And if there's one thing everyone knows about Arthit, it's that sleep is his one true love.

Which is why now, with the SOTUS period finally over and a whole week having passed since the flag capture ceremony just yesterday, he's looking forward to catching up on sleep like it's a long-lost lover. Sure, he's aware that the seniors are still planning the beach trip to officially close SOTUS and present the gear to the new batch—but for now, he's choosing to conveniently forget that part.

He heard his phone chime from the bedside table and, with great reluctance, pried himself away from his beloved pillows to reach for it. It was a message from Prem in their group chat, accompanied, of course, by the latest campus gossip. And just like every other conversation these days, one name kept popping up on repeat.

It's not like Arthit could stop his friends from obsessing over that audacious freshman, but really—did they have to mention him in every thread?

He tried to focus on reading the messages, but all he could see were exaggerated stories about Kongpob being swarmed on campus like some kind of celebrity. He didn't care. Not even a bit. So what if he's popular now? So what if everyone's calling him a hero because of that whole signature debacle during hazing? Good for him. Clap clap.

Completely insufferable.

Speaking of Kongpob—ugh—their last conversation was still sitting stale in his inbox from last week. Arthit hadn't replied, and Kongpob hadn't messaged again. But the boy had been posting stories non-stop. Mostly of him working out at a gym that looked suspiciously close to their university.

Which got Arthit thinking: does he live nearby? Which condo building is it? Not that he was curious or anything. He was just... bored. Yeah. Bored.

And no, he did not click on Kongpob's story on purpose. He just happened to tap it. Pure muscle memory. Anyone would've been surprised to find themselves in someone's Close Friends list, especially when the telltale green ring popped up around Kongpob's profile.

That didn't mean anything.

What really caught him off guard was how Kongpob looked like he had both a gym membership and a personal trainer rolled into one. You wouldn't think it just seeing him around campus, all neat and proper in his engineering uniform—but apparently, there was more under that polo than Arthit expected. Not that he was checking him out, of course. He was simply analyzing. For science. Observation skills, you know?

Meanwhile, Arthit proudly maintained a long-standing commitment to his bed and a passionate, stable relationship with his blanket. And no, he wasn't planning to cheat on either with a gym membership anytime soon.

And if he happened to view the story twice? That's because he was scrutinizing the kind of fabric he wore. Purely curiosity.

Though, strangely enough, every time he viewed one of Kongpob's stories... it would disappear right after. 

Weird.

Just like right now, he saw that Kongpob had posted another story.

Out of pure habit, Arthit tapped it open, expecting yet another gym update or a blurry snapshot of a notebook with vague captions like "study sesh". Instead, he was hit with a full-body mirror selfie.

Kongpob stood in what Arthit could only describe as his "out-to-get-some-attention" outfit: a loose white button-down with the top few buttons left open, paired with black pants and sneakers that definitely weren't meant for walking around casually. His hair looked freshly tousled, like it was made to look like it wasn't made.

And worst of all? The caption read: "Warm-up before the real heat tonight. 😏"

What the fuck does that even mean? Arthit blinked.

And then—His thumb betrayed him.

Double tap.

A red heart bloomed beneath the post.

There was a solid second of silence as his brain processed what he had just done.

"NOPE—"

He jabbed at the screen, desperately trying to unsend a like on a story—something that literally wasn't possible. He went to tap the story again, to at least prepare himself for the incoming embarrassment, but it was gone.

Vanished.

No more story.

"NO, NO, NO—YOU CAN'T DO THAT."

He was now pacing, phone clutched in his hand like it had personally betrayed him. For all he knew, Kongpob had seen the like, screenshotted it, and sent it to his entire friend group. He don't know, but he's ruined.

Arthit collapsed on his bed face-first with a groan, pillow muffling the scream that tried to claw its way out of his throat.

Get a grip. It's just a story. It's not like he'll even bring it up—

Arthit glanced at the clock and sighed. Almost dinner time. He stood up, walked to his cupboard, and found... nothing. Not a single leftover or even a sad pack of instant noodles. Typical. He will do everything in his power to forget what he did earlier. 

Defeated, he rubbed his face and muttered, "Guess it's Auntie's stall again."

It wasn't all bad. That one auntie from the barbecue stall downstairs had taken quite a liking to him after he'd helped her lift a massive delivery box a few weeks ago. His back ached for two days after, but ever since, she'd been sneaking in extra meat skewers or a fried egg with his orders. Perks of being too helpful for your own good.

He caught a glance of himself in the mirror on the way out. Random old shirt? Check. Faded shorts? Check. Slippers with his toes peeking out like they were trying to escape? Double check.

He gave himself a once-over and nodded. "Eh,  still look good in this."

As he stepped out and was greeted by the familiar haze of barbecue smoke curling into the evening air, his stomach grumbled at the scent. He made a beeline for Auntie's stall and rattled off his usual order, stomach practically singing in anticipation.

But as he waited, movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. His body tensed.

Two familiar figures stood at the far side of the street—one with pale skin and a permanently nervous expression, and the other with glasses that looked like they belonged to someone twice his size, laughing loudly at something.

Arthit froze. Kongpob's tagalongs. 

He ducked behind the barbecue stall before they could look his way, heart pounding, brain screaming, Why today? Of all fucking days? Those two were practically glued to Kongpob's side on campus. If they were here, that could only mean one thing: Kongpob probably lived nearby.

Cursing internally, Arthit subtly ducked behind the stall's post, trying to disappear behind hanging skewers of pork. His mind raced. Shit. This shirt has a hole, doesn't it?

He reached behind his neck and, yep. There it was. A finger-sized hole he hadn't noticed earlier. Great. Just great. He watched the two freshmen walk farther down the street, silently praying they wouldn't notice him. 

He was almost in the clear when—suddenly—someone leaned in behind him and blew air right into his ear.

"Shit!" Arthit yelped and spun around so fast he nearly knocked over the crate of eggs beside him.

And there he was. Kongpob.

Wearing the exact same outfit from the story. The same smug smile. The same everything. Hair perfectly styled, a smug smile tugging at his lips, and a gleam in his eyes that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

Even under the dull streetlamp glow and smoke haze, the bastard looked like he stepped out of a commercial for fabric softener. Meanwhile, Arthit looked like he'd just crawled out of a laundry basket.

"Oh. P'Arthit," Kongpob said, as if he were so surprised. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "Don't sneak up on people, dammit. I could've elbowed you in the gut."

Kongpob tilted his head, still grinning. "You could've. But you didn't."

Arthit glared harder, trying not to think about how annoying his smile was.

"Not because I didn't want to," Arthit muttered, crossing his arms—only to immediately uncross them when he remembered the hole behind his neck. Shit, did he notice?

"So..." Kongpob began, stepping just a little too close for comfort and a strong but comforting scent hit his nostrils and Arthit tried not to smell it too much. "You live near here, Phi?"

"What's it to you?" Arthit deflected, leaning slightly away.

"Nothing," Kongpob said, smile widening. "Just nice to know that fate keeps leading me in your direction."

"Pfft. Fate, my ass."

Kongpob chuckled, but his eyes briefly scanned Arthit's figure—and stopped and smiled. "You're really comfortable Phi."

Arthit instinctively slapped a hand behind his neck, flushing red. "I know! Don't point it out like I'm not painfully aware!"

"I didn't say it's a bad thing," Kongpob said, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face. "It's... ventilation."

"I swear to god, if you laugh—"

"I'm not laughing," Kongpob said, very obviously laughing.

Arthit groaned and rubbed his temples. "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be out being annoying somewhere else?"

"Actually, I am meeting my friends. We're grabbing some drinks nearby."

Arthit raised a brow. "You mean those two idiots with the tragic glasses and meek posture? I saw them earlier."

Kongpob nodded with mock solemnity. "I'm aware, Phi. They were waiting for me."

It was then Arthit finally looked down and realized Kongpob was holding three drinks in a cardboard tray with plastics. One was an iced coffee, the other a can of something fizzy, and the third—A tall plastic cup of bright pink milk with crushed ice and a red straw.

Arthit blinked but Kongpob followed his gaze and held the tray up with a smirk. "Oh? You like pink milk, P'Arthit?"

"I wasn't—" Arthit started, but his eyes darted back to the drink before he could stop them.

Kongpob didn't say anything. He just slowly plucked the pink milk from the tray and thrust it in Arthit's hands.

"Here."

Arthit frowned. "I'm not taking that."

"But your eyes are saying otherwise."

"I—"

N'Arthit, your barbecue!"

The auntie's voice cut through the tension, holding out a bag of skewers and rice. Arthit turned to grab his food, mumbling a quick thanks, and when he turned back—

Kongpob was already halfway down the sidewalk, casually walking off with the remaining two drinks like he hadn't just set Arthit's entire nervous system on fire.

Arthit stood there, a barbecue bag in one hand, hole in his shirt flapping gently in the wind, and pink milk in the other.

He glared at the cup. "...I didn't even say yes."

Arthit shrugged his shoulders and sip on his free drink. If the drink tasted a little sweeter than usual, he wasn't about to question it. 

Chapter Text

Arthit checked the time, 11:52 PM—and he was still reeling from the embarrassment earlier.

He tried to shake it off, imagining the memory as a piece of paper. Crumpling it, tossing it into a mental trash bin. But no matter how many times he threw it away, it kept boomeranging right back—louder, clearer, and more mortifying than before.

In desperation, he even invited Knot and Bright to play some multiplayer games, despite knowing full well he sucked at them. The plan worked for a while. They laughed, they shouted, Knot carried the team as usual. But after a few matches, Bright switched to a solo game where Arthit couldn't weigh them down, and Knot logged off for the night, claiming sleep.

Now, Arthit was left to his own devices—literally and figuratively.

With nothing but the ceiling to stare at, his thoughts began looping. Why was he obsessing over this? Why did Kongpob's presence knock the wind out of him like this?

He's not even back in your life, Arthit told himself. He's just... there. Annoyingly present. Like a recurring ad you didn't subscribe to. Everywhere he looked, Kongpob somehow showed up. In real life. On his feed. On his stupid friends' stories. And now even Knot was being all buddy-buddy with him, like they'd been friends forever.

And Kongpob being the new Campus Moon? Yeah, that didn't help either.

Arthit groaned, dragging his hands through his hair, then shoved his blanket aside with the kind of frustration usually reserved for surprise quizzes and public speaking. He sat up to retrieve the blanket, mumbling curses to no one in particular—when his phone buzzed.

A stream of notifications. 

He sighed. Probably Bright again, pestering him about homework or some game update.

But when he checked the screen—

It wasn't Bright. It was him.

Kongpob.

Kongpob:
P'Arthittttt 🥴
hulloooo r u still awskjke???

Arthit blinked at the message. His heart jumped before his brain kicked in. Why the hell was Kongpob texting him? Again? And at midnight?

He replied with practiced irritation, though his hands typed much faster than his heart wanted to admit.

Arthit: You're drunk. Stop pestering me.

Kongpob:  I'm not drusbbmnk 😤

"Sure you're not," Arthit muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. If Kongpob decided to chat him up while his sobriety was out of the loop, then fine—he'd just make sure not to read too much into it.

He wanted to end the conversation, let it hang like he did last time, but he couldn't help himself—not with the opportunity practically handed to him. A drunk Kongpob? What an amusing surprise.

He considered asking something just to embarrass the guy when he inevitably brought it up tomorrow, sober and full of regret. But nothing witty came to mind, so he settled for a simple task instead.

Arthit:  Then prove it.

Silence passed, and the minutes ticked by. Arthit stared at the screen, wondering if Kongpob had finally succumbed to his drunken state. He tried not to feel disappointed—so much for getting any entertainment or intel out of him tonight. With a sigh, he shifted on his bed, ready to call it a night.

But then, without warning, a video popped up in their chat. It took a second to buffer—and Arthit nearly dropped his phone when he hit play.

The screen lit up with the dim, colorful lights of a bar. Loud music thudded in the background. The two guys from earlier were there, and to his surprise, Tew was with them too.

He found himself briefly examining Tew—it's been so long since he last saw him, and boy, had he changed. Much taller now, with a confidence eerily similar to the one Kongpob carried.

They were hunched around a table cluttered with drinks.

Judging by the angle, Kongpob sat between them. Suddenly, the screen shifted to a clear view of his flushed cheeks, swirling a glass of something amber. Then the camera turned back to his friends.

The one with glasses—Oak, as he later heard—spoke clearly over the background noise.

"Bro, seriously. You've got girls left and right giving you signs. Flirting. Crushing. Why don't you just pick one already?"

The one with a meek posture and red cheeks, already swaying in his seat, leaned closer, grinning. "Yeah, man. You're literally the Campus Moon now. You could probably get three girlfriends if you wanted."

Arthit noticed Tew only smiled into his glass. While silence enveloped the conversation, the other two albeit drunk is still waiting for Kongpob to respond.

Then he heard a vibrating voice that sent shivers to his ears, Kongpob groaned, pressing his cheek against the phone for a second before lifting his head, blinking slowly. His words came out slightly slurred but still coherent.

"I just... don't feel like it, okay?" he muttered against the phone. "I still have feelings for someone... from a long time ago."

Oak snorted. "Oh no. A tragic love story?"

"I'm serious." Kongpob huffed, waving his glass a little too dramatically. "I think I should just focus on studying and being single. Relationships are... exhausting."

Tew raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the scene as he looked directly into the camera.

Arthit suddenly felt nervous. He knows. Tew knows exactly who Kongpob is about to send this to—and he's clearly enjoying it.

"So who's the person then, huh? Tell us."

Oak leaned in, nudging Kongpob. "Yeah, who broke the mighty Kongpob's heart?"

Kongpob just smiled. Slow. Dreamy. And then he said—

"It's a guy."

The video abruptly cut off.

Arthit stared at his screen. Frozen. Wirth the replay button displayed, but Arthit without tapping the button still felt like it replayed in his mind over and over. He didn't even realize how tight his grip was until his fingers started aching.

A follow-up message came almost immediately.

Kongpob:
Oops lol. Did that send??? 😅  Seee? i'm ndot drunk 😇

What the hell.

Arthit's fingers hovered over the keyboard of his phone, unmoving. He wasn't sure what to say and wasn't even sure if he should say anything.

Kongpob just outed himself while drunk. In a freaking video. Arthit was pretty damn sure the guy didn't even realize what he'd done. And once the hangover hits tomorrow, he's going to lose his mind.

Still, it wasn't like Arthit was judging. He never was that kind of person. Hell, some of his closest friends were part of the community, and it had never bothered him. It's just that... this? This was unexpected. 

or it isn't?

But then again... it sort of made sense. He can certainly see that Kongpob could like someone more than girls. The way he carried himself. The easy charm. How he talked about people—never quite leaning into one gender, always kind of vague, open. 

And Arthit... well, he never thought twice about it before. Now, he was just stunned. Not disgusted. Not weirded out. Just—stunned.

Because Kongpob had said it. Out loud. On camera. Like it was no big deal. And Arthit wasn't sure if that kind of bravery came from liquid courage, or if Kongpob had always carried that truth around, quietly.

He let out a sigh, ran a hand down his face, and looked back at his phone. He had to say something. He couldn't just leave him hanging.

Arthit:
Yeah, it sent. And you're definitely drunk.

He paused, watching the screen. Kongpob didn't reply right away. The "seen" hadn't even popped up. Maybe he passed out already. Still, Arthit kept typing.

Arthit:
Look,  uh... thanks for trusting me, I guess.
That's not something people say lightly. Even drunk.

His thumb hovered again, debating whether to send it. He exhaled sharply and pressed send.

Arthit:
Don't worry. I'm not the type to make it a big deal.
You do you.
Just... drink some water before you sleep, idiot.

He locked his phone immediately after, tossing it beside his pillow like it burned. Then he lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling. The image of Kongpob's flushed smile still burned behind his eyelids. And somewhere deep in his chest, something unfamiliar stirred.

But he ignored it.

Kongpob was drunk. And Arthit wasn't about to read into things that weren't meant for interpretation.

Not yet, anyway.

--<3--<3--<3--

Kongpob left him on read.

Arthit was now back on campus, having just finished a light exam in one of their major classes, and he'd been itching to check his phone for any message—particularly from Kongpob—after the guy dropped that bombshell on him. But no. He was frustrated to find that after waking up earlier, almost being late to class, the guy didn't even bother to reply to any of his messages.

But he's gotta give it to him—maybe he's having an existential crisis at the moment for stupidly coming out to his senior, much less to someone he's not even close with.

Yes, for him, until now, they're not close friends. Just Phi and Nong.

He was walking down the stairs, headed to the cafeteria, when something caught his eye. It was Tew, again—this time with someone in tow. A guy much shorter than him, with a grumpy expression plastered on his face.

Before Arthit could look away, Tew had already caught his gaze. His hand moved in reflex, offering a quick wave, which Tew easily reciprocated.

"Hey, Arthit!"

Arthit turned at the sound of his name and spotted Knot waving at him, a grin stretched across his face. Beside him stood none other than Kongpob.

As he walked closer, Arthit took in the contrast. Knot was in their signature maroon blazer, casual yet sharp, while Kongpob, dignified as ever, stood tall in his crisp uniform, hair styled to perfection.

Arthit, on the other hand, tried not to think about his own state—bed hair he hadn't managed to tame in his rush to avoid being late, ripped jeans that definitely didn't scream "put-together," and his bag swinging wildly with just one strap slung over his shoulder.

The two were in the middle of a conversation on one of the tables, but the moment Arthit arrived, Kongpob noticeably tensed. His posture stiffened, and his eyes started darting everywhere—anywhere but Arthit.

He briefly wondered if Knot ever crossed paths with Tew—but that thought was fleeting. What caught Arthit's attention immediately was the discomfort radiating off Kongpob with a red hue climbing from his neck to his cheeks. It was almost palpable. For a moment, Arthit considered pretending he hadn't heard Knot call out earlier—just to give Kongpob an out from whatever this was.

But it was too late. He was already standing there.

Knot, oblivious, continued chatting. "I was just telling Kong about the beach trip this weekend. You're going, right?"

Arthit shrugged, his eyes flicking briefly to Kongpob, who still hadn't said a word. "I guess."

Of course he was going. As part of the hazing committee, it was practically mandatory. And he was sure Knot knew that too. He just didn't know what kind of game the guy was playing.

Knot laughed. "Well, you better." Then, as if he just remembered something, he added, "Oh, by the way, Kong here was asking earlier if you were coming."

That made Arthit pause. He looked at Kongpob again, brows lifting ever so slightly. The guy still wouldn't meet his eyes.

"What, is this about last night?" Arthit asked, voice a little sharper than intended. He wasn't angry—just... irritated. Confused.

Knot blinked, surprised. "Last night? What happened?"

Kongpob's head snapped up slightly at that, but still said nothing. Arthit didn't answer. He just crossed his arms and shifted his weight.

Knot looked between the two of them, finally sensing the tension. "Uh... okay. Well, if it is about something, maybe try persuading him, Arthit? You're not exactly scary."

"I'm not?" Arthit said flatly.

Knot snorted. "Okay, you are. But you can be nice when you want to." He gave a thumbs up. "Figure it out, you two."

And with that, he stepped away, leaving them alone like something is hot on his wheels.

Arthit let the silence stretch for a beat before sitting and turning to Kongpob, arms still folded.

"So," Arthit said, arms still crossed, eyes steady, "were you thinking of not going because of me?"

Kongpob finally looked at him, eyes wide like he was surprised by something in Arthit's tone. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then awkwardly scratched the back of his neck.

"It's... the opposite, actually," he mumbled. "I was trying to find out if you were really going so I could ditch my other plans and make sure I'd be there."

Arthit blinked. His brows rose instinctively. Then he crossed his arms tighter and shot back, "Well, you better be there. The gear ceremony is happening at the beach, and that's not just some fun bonding moment. That gear—that's a symbol. It's the heart of engineering."

He let the weight of his words settle before continuing. "You wear it over your chest not because it looks good, but because it stands for every long night, every tough exam, and every time someone pulled you up when you wanted to quit. It's not something you just show up for out of convenience. It's a commitment."

Kongpob looked genuinely taken aback. "Oh... I didn't know it meant that much."

Arthit scoffed lightly. "Yeah, well. Just because you're not that into SOTUS doesn't mean your seniors didn't work hard to make this meaningful for you. If you don't want to be our junior, then don't bother showing up."

That last part came out sharper than he intended, and he immediately saw the shift in Kongpob's face—like something deflated in him. Arthit froze for a moment, guilt tugging at his gut. 

"I'm serious, P'Arthit," Kongpob said, his voice low but firm. "I'm not taking this lightly. It's just... everything's a mess right now, and it's not supposed to go this way, and I—I'm sorry if I made it seem like I didn't care. But I do. I really do."

Arthit let out a sigh, his body still facing away but his head angled slightly toward him.

"If you're thinking about last night," he said after a beat, softer now, "don't worry. I understand."

Kongpob blinked, then quickly shook his head. "No—it's not even about that, actually," he said, sounding a little breathless, like he was still trying to catch up with everything.

Arthit frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I wasn't ignoring you about the video," Kongpob clarified. "I saw your messages this morning, but I was already rushing to class. I didn't want to just reply with something half-assed, so I thought I'd wait until we saw each other."

Arthit processed that for a moment, his expression unreadable. He wasn't sure if he believed that entirely, but Kongpob looked earnest enough. He nodded once, stiffly.

Kongpob scratched the back of his head again, the corners of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. "But, uh... I do appreciate you saying that. About understanding."

Arthit looked at him sideways, lips still pressed into a tight line.

"I mean," Kongpob went on, "it's not really a secret or anything. That I like guys. Most of my other friends know. Some people just don't ask."

There was a pause.

Arthit blinked. "Oh."

That was all he said. Just that—"oh"—because what else was he supposed to say?

There was no judgment in his tone. Just quiet surprise.

He wasn't uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly rattled anymore either. It was more like... something had clicked into place. Like he was seeing something that had always been there, but he never thought to look at.

Kongpob rubbed his nape, suddenly sheepish again. "Sorry if that made things weird."

Arthit shook his head slowly. "No. It's not weird."

And to his own surprise... he meant it.

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "Then why were you so tense when I arrived earlier? You were talking to Knot and looked like you were about to bolt."

Kongpob blinked at him, clearly not expecting the question. "Huh?"

"You couldn't even look at me," Arthit added. "Kept darting your eyes around like I was some ghost."

Kongpob rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah... that."

Arthit waited, arms crossed.

Kongpob let out a nervous chuckle. "I—it wasn't because of the video. Or... not just that."

"Then?"

"There was just... stuff," Kongpob said vaguely, waving his hand. "Knot was saying something stupid, and I kind of lost focus. I wasn't expecting you to suddenly show up"

Arthit raised a brow. "So I startled you by what? my presence?"

"Yes! I mean—no! I mean..." Kongpob groaned. "I just wasn't prepared. That's all."

There was a pause. Arthit squinted, clearly unconvinced, but didn't press further.

"You're weird," he muttered instead, though there was no real bite in it. He wondered why would Kongpob need to be prepared for someone like him.

Kongpob gave a lopsided smile. "Takes one to know one."

Arthit rolled his eyes but turned his face slightly, if only to hide the way the corner of his mouth twitched up.

Arthit shook his head, already starting to stand up and walk ahead. "Whatever," he muttered, though the warmth rising to his cheeks betrayed his effort to stay aloof.

Kongpob scrambled to get up from the seat and followed quietly beside him, their pace syncing with an easy familiarity that neither of them pointed out. They didn't say much after that—just the shuffle of steps, the hum of students around them, and a breeze brushing past as they made their way across campus.

And just as Kongpob was about to say something again, Arthit beat him to it with a quiet grumble, barely audible under his breath. "Next time you drunk chat me, I'm blocking you."

Kongpob only chuckled.

Chapter Text

Arthit finds himself confused. For the most part of his life, he knows that he's always confused about a lot of things, and he reckons that he's just trying to get by every day in the face of confusing things.

That is why, as he was looking down at his test paper—and the piece of paper beside it acting as the answer sheet where you're supposed to shade the circles—he was catastrophically fucked.

Not in the sense that he wasn't prepared for the quiz—heck no, he would never let himself suffer the agony of punishing himself for not doing enough.

However, he had mistaken his answer sheet for one of his scratch pads for solving some quiz problems, and it happened at the very last minute before the quiz had to be submitted. 

He's now staring down at the answer sheet, mangled and creased with obvious signs of being crumpled too hard. He tried to smooth it out as best as he could, but with no time left, he just passed it like that.

"I'm shit," Arthit muttered under his breath. He's just hoping their professor won't mind the state of the paper and will focus more on the answers than the condition of the sheet.

One of his friends in the class snickered beside him at his predicament, but he shoved him hard in retaliation.

"Well, Arthit, you've got that beach trip going on tomorrow, right?" Taym asked, rubbing the arm Arthit had shoved.

"Yeah, the preparations have been going on for a while now," he replied, while subtly fixing his things into his bag, ready to bolt out the door after his professor done yapping some reminders.

But he suddenly froze when he noticed a bunch of first years standing by the door—and among them was the one with glasses, one of Kongpob's friends.

Which could only mean one thing: Kongpob is right here.

After their talk yesterday, things have been kind of awkward for Arthit. He tries not to let himself be bothered by the fact that Kongpob swings both ways—he really does. But he just doesn't know why his mind keeps conjuring up thoughts he doesn't want to think.

And one of those thoughts—unfortunately—was how stupidly attractive Kongpob was.

Arthit really tried not to think about it. Not about how that smile was always a little too close to a smirk every time they passed in the hallway. Not about how his tan skin practically glowed golden under the sun, like some smug mythical prince with perfect cheekbones and too much confidence.

Stop, mind. Stop. Thoughts.

What if someone could read minds? God, what if someone could read minds?

Arthit sat up straighter, paranoia blooming in his chest. He glanced around the room—casually, he hoped—and immediately locked eyes with their professor, who was mid-lecture and somehow looking directly at him.

He could feel the heat crawl up his neck.

Focus. Focus!

His attention snapped forward just in time to hear the end of whatever was being said.

"...don't mind that the first years will be checking your quizzes, right?"

Arthit's brain short-circuited.

Huh? Uh, what? 

Arthit looked around at his blockmates, hoping at least one of them would disagree with the professor. But all he heard were a bunch of hums and heads bobbing up and down.

Oh no. His crumpled, mangled, disgusting paper—and he's not even sure if he's going to top the quiz. He certainly didn't want his paper ending up with Kongpob. That would be mortifying. No—wait—not just Kongpob, but those other first years too.

He didn't want him—scratch that, them—to think he's stupid.

At this point, Arthit was barely present in his body. His soul had already floated halfway to the ceiling, watching in mild horror as his corporeal form remained rooted in place, doomed to suffer the consequences of a stupid mistake.

But it was a lost cause, as their professor dismissed them and let the first years in for their foundation class. Arthit spotted Kongpob hurrying in beside Oak, still looking neat as ever despite barely making it before he'd be considered late.

Suddenly, those bright eyes landed on Arthit and—shoot—he immediately looked away from that gaze and that blinding smile, forcing himself to focus on stepping right out of the classroom. He thanked Taym in his head, who slung an arm around his shoulders to steer him away.

But just before they turned away from the door, Kongpob's voice rang out, making both him and Taym glance back. His eyes flicked to Taym again. His smile didn't falter, but something in it turned just a little sharper.

"See you around, P'Arthit," he said, then walked off like nothing happened.

As they stepped out into the corridor, Taym gave him a look. "Why did that feel like I just got mentally stabbed?"

Arthit refused to answer, glaring straight ahead. He was still floating but, it was more confusing than humiliating.

—

Arthit tugged his hoodie over his head as he stepped into the mall, flinching slightly at the blast of cold air from the vents. Near a café, he spotted Fon already seated, waving at him with one hand while the other rested beside two drinks and a small paper bag.

She was in their faculty's uniform, the purple lace of her lanyard peeking through her collar. Her hair had changed too—a softer brown now, dyed in a way that made her look more mature. It suited her. Classy, even.

Arthit blinked, briefly imagining the same shade on himself.

Maybe after the semester.

Knot was supposed to be with them, but ditched last minute about something he deemed important.

"You're late," she teased when he plopped into the seat across from her.

"You told me the wrong entrance," he deadpanned, grabbing the iced coffee she nudged toward him. Fon had this ongoing agenda to make him try different kinds of coffee every time they met. And this must be one of those.

"Still late," she said with a smirk, crossing her arms.

"What's the flavor this time?" Arthit sipped cautiously. Surprisingly, he actually kind of liked it. Not too bitter. "Hmm... not bad."

"Well, it's a Spanish latte."

He paused, giving her a look. "Spanish? What makes it Spanish? It tastes like every other coffee—and we're in Thailand."

Fon snorted. "No, idiot. It just has condensed milk."

He took another sip, then nodded thoughtfully. "Well, at least this one doesn't taste like battery acid."

"High praise, coming from you sugar addict,"  she said, mock-bowing. "We're growing. Soon you'll stop insulting every drink I give you."

He scoffed. "Let's not get carried away. You gave me a mint mocha last time. That tasted like mouthwash"

Fon just cackled, clearly pleased. "Worth it."

Then she pushed the paper bag toward him, which had been sitting perfectly still beside her earlier. "Here. I saw this the other day and thought of you."

He raised an eyebrow and peeked inside. It was a set of pens and highlighters—the exact same colors he always used to borrow (steal) from her back in high school. Neon pinks, pastel purples, a highlighter that looked suspiciously glittery.

"Thanks... I guess my notes are about to look like unicorn vomit again."

Fon beamed. "Exactly! Glad you liked it," then took a sip of her drink. "So, anyway, I heard you're part of the hazing committee?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well, lucky me," she said brightly, then leaned in. "I actually wanted to ask you something."

Arthit narrowed his eyes. "Should I be worried?"

"Maybe a little." Fon giggled, then fiddled with her straw like she was trying to act casual—but her smile said otherwise. "It's about Kongpob."

Arthit's stomach did a tiny, traitorous flip, but he kept his expression as flat as possible. "What about him?"

Fon tilted her head. "You're close with him, right? From high school?"

He shrugged, eyes on his cup. Like they only talked for weeks before Kongpob decided to drop their acquaintances after he transferred just like that. "Not really."

She gave him a knowing look. "Hmm. Didn't look like 'not really' when he used to wait for you after our band practices."

Arthit snorted. "He was just... around...coincidence since he also had his basketball practice at the time"

Fon looked confused for a minute, but decided to drop something on his mind making Arthit confused. Before he could ask about it, Fon blurted out, "So you admit it!"

"I didn't admit anything."

"I have this friend. Super cute. Super nice." She gave him a knowing look. "And she's interested in Kong. But she's shy. And you two know each other, so... I was wondering if you could, like, maybe... help me set them up?"

Arthit blinked, caught off guard. "You want me to help someone else date Kongpob?"

"Yeah?" she said, as if it were the most obvious thing. "You're kinda friends, right? Even though you don't admit it."

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. For a second, he didn't even know what to say. The ice in his drink clinked awkwardly as he stirred it with his straw.

Kongpob had a crush on Fon back then.  And now, he wasn't sure how to bring that up without dragging those old, unspoken feelings into the light. It felt too personal, too complicated. 

Maybe Kongpob didn't have the feelings or maybe he did. He never had the chance to confirm it. Either way, the idea of setting Kongpob up with someone's friend who might've been his more than just a harmless crush.

It sat uncomfortably in his chest.

"I don't know," he finally muttered. "I'll... think about it."

Fon didn't press. She just sipped her drink and gave him a look that said she probably noticed more than she let on.

"Fine, fine," she said, letting it go with a light wave of her hand. "Don't feel pressured, okay? I just want to give it a shot. But I'm not really pushing it—I just want her to know I tried my best."

Arthit hummed noncommittally and took a long sip of his drink. The cold didn't help the heat simmering under his skin.

"Right," he said after a pause, forcing a small smile. "Well... you tried. That's more than most people do."

"Exactly," Fon grinned, clearly pleased with herself.

He glanced down at the melting ice in his cup, quietly wishing the conversation could melt away with it.

Arthit returned to campus with the small paper bag from Fon. The sun was already lower in the sky, casting long shadows along the corridors as he headed back to their department building.

Near the outdoor tables, he spotted Tootah, Prem, Bright and—yep—Kongpob with his friends all clustered together with notebooks spread out between them, talking animatedly over some engineering diagram.

He debated walking past, but Bright spotted him first and waved him over. "Oi, where have you been?"

"Nowhere," he muttered, sliding his bag off his shoulder and taking the empty seat beside Prem, avoiding looking at Kongpob and friends' direction.

"Nowhere looks like shopping," Tootah grinned, eyeing the conspicuous color of the paper bag.

Arthit rolled his eyes. "It's just some pens. Fon gave them to me."

There was a chorus of "oohs" and obnoxious teasing from the group, laughter echoing across the table. Even Kongpob's friends joined in, tossing jabs and winks like confetti. But Kongpob didn't say a word. His head remained low, eyes fixed on his notebook as he quietly scribbled something down, an expression unreadable, like the noise around him didn't reach.

"Fon, huh?" Prem wiggled his brows. "You and her got something going on now?"

"Nothing's going on, still," Arthit said, chuckling a little, already used to the teasing. "She just saw something and thought of me. That's all."

Before anyone could take the bait and push further, Kongpob looked up from his notes, casually leaning forward. "P'Fon? How is she? I didn't know she studied here."

Arthit blinked, caught off guard. "Yeah. She's in a different faculty."

He paused, almost expecting Kongpob to ask which one, but the other just smiled, leaning back slightly. His friends, however, weren't as calm.

"Wait, wait," Oak cut in, pointing between them. "You both know her? How?"

"We went to the same high school," Kongpob answered simply, smiling like it was no big deal.

Prem blinked. "No way. Seriously?"

"Yup," Kongpob confirmed, turning to Arthit with a grin. "I used to tag along with my cousin because—uh—well, we used to go home together back then."

Kongpob skipped over the details. The story of Knot and his cousin was... complicated. And not something he was about to unpack in front of their friends in the middle of a casual group study. It wasn't his to tell, anyway.

"Oh my god," Tootah cackled. "I totally can't picture that—Arthit back then with you? Please, he already looks constipated just sitting next to you now!"

Arthit opened his mouth, ready to counter that with something dry, but Kongpob wasn't finished.

"There was this school fair once. He was one of the vocalists on stage."

That made a few heads snap toward Arthit.

"Wait—what?!" Bright's eyes widened. "You can sing?"

Arthit rolled his eyes, exasperated, and shot a pointed look at Kongpob—a silent cue to stop. But it was too late. Even Oak and Aim, were leaning in now, clearly intrigued.

"He was really good," Kongpob went on, his tone unexpectedly sincere. "Like... way better than anyone expected. The crowd actually went wild. We even won some kind of award after."

Arthit rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting away. "That was years ago," he muttered, trying to downplay it. "Just something silly. For fun."

"No way," Prem gasped, clearly delighted. "You've been hiding a whole performance arc this entire time? First Fon, now this? What else are you keeping from us, Mr. Mysterious?"

Tootah snorted. "Seriously, I thought Knot was your one and only life achievement, but here we are. Turns out the famous freshie was your junior all along. You should've guided him more or something"

Arthit forced a laugh, short, hollow. Then he glanced at Kongpob, smile tight. "Uh, I'm not really his senior," he said, voice lower. "He... transferred."

The air shifted.

Not completely still but, it dipped. Laughter thinned. Someone's pen stopped tapping against a notebook.

Kongpob blinked, the words catching him off guard. His posture stiffened just slightly, and the grin he wore only a moment ago faltered just enough to notice if you were looking.

He stared at Arthit, something unreadable in his expression. Confusion, maybe. Disappointment. Or just the quiet ache of being reminded of something you hadn't meant to remember.

"Ah... yeah," he said after a pause, softer this time. "I did."

And just like that, he dropped his gaze back to his notes. The warmth in his voice faded with it, like a curtain quietly falling between them.

Arthit didn't say anything else. He simply smiled fake, practiced, and leaned back as Bright eagerly took the floor, launching into his latest misadventures in flirting. Everyone followed the new thread of conversation, grateful for the shift.

Everyone except Arthit.

Because all he could feel was that familiar crack, old, unresolved, and aching again. Splitting open right there between them, under the weight of something they never really got the chance to say.