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“We have to do what?” Arthit asks, trying to remain professional since he’s seated at a table full of his colleagues.
Beside him, Kongpob has stiffened in his chair, fingers tightening around his cup of black coffee. Arthit knows him well enough to see the tension in the lines of his body and wonders exactly how many concealed weapons the other man is carrying.
If he has his favourite knife, then Knott might be in trouble.
“Just as I said,” their handler explains, eyeing Kongpob with deep-set eyebrows and a concerned expression, “It’s less than a week away from The Company, I’m sure.”
Arthit glances at his partner and sees his eyes flicker down to his bicep where he’s surely wearing his gun holster. Under the table, he squeezes Kong’s knee firmly, a clear message to think before he acts.
“Right.” Kongpob says, shaking off Arthit’s hand and rising. “Send the files to my office. I’m going to get more coffee - this one’s gone cold.”
Arthit watches him stalk out and then turns back to Knott, Bright and Prae who are now eyeing him with interest.
“It’s fine. It’ll be fine.” He insists, rising too.
“It better be.” Prae stands and points her finger directly at his chest, “He’s your responsibility, Arthit. You said he could handle it.”
“He can. He will. I know the last stake-out went badly, but really, anyone could have made that mistake.”
“You didn’t.” Bright is also standing now, holding out a manila file, which Arthit reaches for, trying to steady his hand.
“You’re sure we have to be a couple for this?”
“Yes.” Knott says, tipping back his chair and rocking in it slightly, “It’s the only way to infiltrate the cell.”
“Okay. Right. I’ll talk to him.”
“Sort it out. Then go see May and M, they have the necessary equipment ready.”
Arthit nods at Prae and heads out, file creasing in his clenched fist.
Damn it! He’d promised Kongpob the next mission would be something simple for sure. Pretending to be married? Not so simple, especially with their history.
By mid-afternoon they’re on the road, Kongpob at the wheel of a rust-red Chevrolet. He’s going at least fifteen over the speed limit, but Arthit daren’t ask him to take it easy. His shoulders are squared and Arthit knows exactly what is hidden beneath his t-shirt and sports coat.
If he pulled something on Arthit, it wouldn’t be the first time.
Nervously, Arthit fiddles with the silver band on his ring finger. The cool metal twists easily in his grasp, and for a moment he worries that he could easily lose it - he’s not used to wearing one after all.
His eyes flicker to the matching one on Kong’s left hand and a sour taste spreads through his mouth.
It looks good on him, like it’s been made to perfectly fit his finger.
“Err, Kong? Did you read the file?”
“Yes.” One word answers are never a great sign.
“And? Any thoughts?”
Kongpob sucks in a breath and the fumbles in his jacket pocket, producing a cigarette that he slots between his lips.
Arthit rolls down his window, but Kong doesn’t light it.
“I’ve quit again.” He says roughly, “Well, I’m trying to. Just nice to have it in my mouth. Doctor says I have an oral fixation or something.. maybe to do with.. you know..”
Arthit looks away, out at the barren landscape. The middle of the country has little to recommend it, unless you like flat earth and green crops and the occasional cluster of houses that the locals call a town.
‘Good.” He says to a passing cow. “It’s still bad for you.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.” There’s a long moment of silence, during which they might drive a mile, maybe two. Then Kongpob continues to speak, answering Arthit’s question like he didn’t just share something personal.
“I’ve read the file. It’s fine. The guy’s clearly guilty and the only way to catch him out is to infiltrate his inner circle. Boss said it would be a week, my analysis suggests three. Thoughts?”
Arthit twists and grabs his notes from the back seat, shuffling through the papers to check his own review.
“I’d say two and a half if we stick to the plan, longer if you choose to go gung-ho on me again.”
He expects the smack to his shoulder, but it still smarts. Kongpob’s gym time has increased by half since their last mission went badly. Arthit knows it’s his partner's way of beating himself up for the death of the civilian who had gotten in the way, but he doesn’t have to like it.
In fact, he hates it.
Before, Kongpob would have at least spoken to him about it. But now, his partner’s feelings are locked in a little box and Kong’s thrown away the key.
“Anyway,” Arthit shuts down his emotions, sliding a bland expression onto his face with practised ease, “As I was saying, two days to infiltrate, two weeks to carry out the plan. Unless the guy has a liking for one of us, then it could be quicker.”
Kongpob’s answer is firm, “Absolutely not. Neither of us is going to bed him just for the info. I refuse and I refuse on your behalf.”
Arthit feels a rush of pleasure at Kongpob’s words, even though he knows that wasn’t their aim. “I’ll do it, if I have to.”
The car slows and Kongpob yanks it to the side of the road, engine still running as he turns to face Arthit, looking into his eyes for the first time in too long.
“I won’t let you.” He doesn’t touch Arthit, but it feels like tiny daggers are shooting out of Kong’s fiery gaze and piercing his skin.
“You’re not my superior!”
“No.” Then Kongpob surprises him, taking a steady breath before he reaches out to tap Arthit’s ring, “But for this assignment, I am your husband. And if we want this to go smoothly, we stick to the story. No way would Singto let Krist be seduced by another man.”
He refuses to hear Arthit’s reply, punching the car into gear, then lurching it back onto the asphalt and speeding towards their destination.
He’s going at least thirty above the speed limit now, and Arthit turns to look at the blurring scenery, a secret smile curling his lips.
They make it to the hotel before dusk, Kongpob smoothly parking, then helping Arthit to carry their luggage inside.
As they reach the entrance, he drops one hand between them and laces their fingers together. Then he lifts his gaze to Arthit’s face and Arthit watches as his partner’s expression morphs into the character he’s ready to play.
He’s incredible, really, the way he can shift between himself and the roles he’s asked to portray. It’s one of the reasons he’s still working for The Company despite his difficult reputation and troubled history.
“Krist, darling? Shall we check in?”
At the check in desk, Arthit lets Kongpob take the lead, wandering away from him to finger the tourist leaflets that are prominently displayed.
It always takes him longer to sink into his character, no matter how many roles he’s had in his eight year career. It’s something that he can’t escape on his performance management review, no matter who is assessing him. ‘Must try better’ haunts his working life.
But, he sometimes thinks it’s better to be like him than like Kongpob.
Kongpob immerses himself in his roles to the point at which he can get lost in them.
His return from Colombia nearly two-years ago had been a shock. Kong had come back emaciated from living on a diet of coffee and amphetamines while he had been successfully infiltrating a drug smuggling ring.
It had shocked Arthit to the point that he had forced him into rehab, signing the paperwork himself to keep him there until he had gained a healthy weight.
And a hatred for Arthit that still colours their partnership, even now.
“Krist?” He startles at the unfamiliar name in Kongpob’s voice.
Damn! He’ll have to do better than this.
“Shall we upgrade? They have a jacuzzi suite available.. could be lots of fun?” Kongpob winks and the young receptionist giggles, flipping her hair over her shoulder as her starry eyes watch his partner.
Arthit snaps his gaze from her as Kongpob raises his eyes meaningfully, reminding him that he’s not here to flirt with the help.
“Sounds amazing, darling,” he grins, sliding beneath Kongpob’s waiting arm and feeling warmth spread across his skin as Kong tightens it to pull him close.
“Excellent, then yes please, we’ll take it,” The Company credit card slides across the counter and Arthit grimaces inside as he imagines Knott opening that bill.
Maybe he’ll make Kongpob answer that call?
The room is stunning, considering they’re in the middle of nowhere pretty much. Arthit had been expecting simple and homey, even after reading the file on their mark. But it’s nothing like that - it’s pure luxury.
There’s an enormous super-king bed, covered in crisp white sheets; a balcony that stretches around the corner suite, with views of the golden sunset that’s just beginning in the distance; the jacuzzi is as advertised - gleaming brightly with space for two; and the bathroom is tiled floor to ceiling and includes a double shower and matching his and his sinks.
He knows Knott is going to kill them for the added expense, but for once in his career, Arthit doesn’t care.
“Excellent choice!” Kongpob grins as he flops back onto the bed, body swallowed by the comforter. “Ah! Bliss! Much better than the cots we have back home.”
Arthit moves around to the other side, toes off his shoes and drops beside Kong, “Oh, this is.. right, maybe we should make this part of the mission last longer than two nights? And you know you don’t have to stay at the Company anymore, your apartment is ready and waiting for you. It’s been cleaned, I signed the order myself.”
There’s a noticeable silence that goes on as Arthit fights his way out of the billowing sheets to rest on his side, elbow propping up his head as he lets his eyes travel the length of Kongpob’s face. His partner lies still, mask in place as Arthit looks his fill.
But he’s known Kong long enough to see the tells. The slight raise of one eyebrow, the tightness in his jaw.
“He’s dead, you know?”
“I know. Doesn’t mean I want to go back there.”
It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation and it’s not going to be the last, Arthit knows. But for the first time since Kong moved out of his apartment and into The Company’s safe room, he acknowledges his feelings.
It’s a surprise. But it’s over in a second as Kongpob jumps from the bed and disappears into the bathroom, door slamming with finality behind him.
“Right.” Arthit says into the empty space, “I guess we’re still not talking about it.” Then he tugs off his jacket and socks and makes an indent in the pillow, might as well catch some sleep while Kongpob has his hissy fit.
They don’t talk as they dress for dinner, but Kongpob does silently fix Arthit’s bow tie for him, re-tying it so it’s no longer lopsided.
When Arthit hums a thanks, Kong nods smartly and then smooths down the wrinkles in his own tie.
“What are you packing?” He enquires as he checks his holsters at his bicep, thigh and calf.
Arthit pats his chest and then indicates his own leg and Kong nods. “Great. I think we’ve got it covered then. Shall we?”
As they enter the dining room, Kongpob slides a hand into the small of Arthit’s back and it settles neatly into the dimple at the base of his spine. It’s almost brushing the top of his buttocks and it causes Arthit to freeze briefly. But then the hand is pressing him forward and he automatically moves smoothly through the crowded room towards table six.
As they arrive, Arthit slides out a chair and motions for his partner to be seated and Kongpob gives him a bright smile - Singto’s smile.
Arthit tries a grin in response, but Kong frowns infinitesimally at him and he schools his features into something blander instead. He’s forgotten that he’s the serious one.
“Ah, our final companions,” A woman pronounces, rising from her seat to welcome them, “You must be Krist and Singto, right?”
They’ve introduced themselves to the whole table, Kongpob naturally charming while Arthit sits stoically at his side, when the man they’re here for makes himself known.
“Ladies, Gentlemen, good evening! It’s a true pleasure to have you join us for tonight’s festivities! I applaud you for choosing our cause as your charity of choice. I hope you have a wonderful evening!”
When he slinks away to carry his patter to the next table, their group starts to chatter excitedly. (‘Oh so handsome, I didn’t think he’d look so good in person.’) Arthit lets it wash over him (Kongpob will note anything important) and instead focuses on watching their dark haired mark spread his poison. It’s up to Arthit to work out their angle, their approach, while Kongpob analyses every interaction and listens out for useful gossip.
Dinner is delicious, their Company a little bland and swayed easily by the propaganda film they’re shown during it. Arthit finds himself clenching his teeth at some of the images of young orphans in terrible conditions, aware that it’s all fake and those same orphans are actually gun and drug-smugglers; addicted to drugs and pimped out by their host and his organisation.
Beside him, Kongpob is aware of Arthit’s struggle and drops a hand, firstly to his knee and then to squeeze his fingers tightly when Arthit’s jaw clenches.
By the time it’s all over, Arthit has a plan.
“Ready?” He asks Kong, a hidden message in his eyes.
“Well, it has been a true pleasure to meet you all tonight, I hope that our paths will cross again in the future and that you all enjoy your time in Iowa.” Kongpob is a master of small talk and has the ladies (and some of the gentlemen) eating out of his hand as he bids them goodbye for them both.
Then they lace their fingers and make their way to the small stage, aware that they are being watched by concealed guards placed strategically around the room.
“Good evening,” Kongpob starts, of course, “Thank you very much for the invite to your dinner, we have thoroughly enjoyed it, haven’t we Krist?”
Arthit nods once, eyeing the other man, letting his gaze linger on the chest hair displayed where his shirt has been left unbuttoned.
When he lifts his eyes, interested ones meet his own and wink.
“The pleasure is all mine..?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! My name is Singto and this is my husband, Krist.”
Arthit expects the second wink and offers a shy smile.
Kongpob ignores it, even as his fingers clench Arthit’s in warning, “We were so pleased to be able to join you this evening. We have a passion for philanthropy and are excited to learn more about your worthy cause.”
“Excellent, it’s always wonderful to meet new donors and people with the same ideals. I hope we have persuaded you to donate?”
“Actually, we would really like to learn more about…”
As Kongpob begins his persuasive argument, even gesticulating with his hands, Arthit let’s his eyes wander, watching their mark feign interest, even as he blatantly scans Arthit’s body.
He’s pretty certain he’s reeled him in. And it’s confirmed when Arthit focuses back on the conversation just as Kongpob thanks him profusely and asks him to share directions with them.
Kong is calm and attentive until they reach their room.
“I told you no!” He says, voice icy.
“Does it matter? I got his attention, he invited us to his ranch. That was the mission, I got the job done.”
Arthit turns his back, shrugging out of his jacket as he marches across the room.
“Does it matter?” Kongpob repeats, voice incredulous, “You must be kidding! Of course it fucking matters! How can you.. bloody hell, Arthit! You seriously are joking, right? That man is the devil incarnate! You know what he does! You’ve seen the scars..”
Kong trails off just as Arthit turns back to gape at him.
“You never said it was him!”
“No.” Kongpob loosens his tie, slips it over his head and drops it on the floor. He shrugs off his jacket and it joins his tie. Then he unbuttons his crisp, white shirt and slowly peels it from his shoulders. This too ends up in a heap on the floor.
On instinct, Arthit’s eyes scan his partner as more skin is revealed, remembering the way he had looked before, when his ribs protruded from his skin and he was chalk-white. ‘Aren’t you scared he’ll remember you? That he knows your face?”
Kongpob roughly shakes his head, “No. I was always hooded when he tortured me. And he never came near me any other time, he left the.. other stuff.. to his underlings.”
Arthit takes a step towards Kongpob, uncertain about what he’s about to do.
“You can’t just throw yourself at him, Arthit. I won’t let you!” Kongpob continues, pleading with him.
Arthit takes another step, “Why not?”
Kongpob’s eyes snap to his and stay, “Because you’re too damn important.”
“To the mission? To The Company?” He comes to stand right in front of Kongpob, tips of his shoes touching the tips of Kong’s.
“No.” Kongpob holds his gaze, then his mouth quirks into a tiny smile, “To me.”
“Oh.”
“Oh? Is that it?”
“You never told me.”
“I was about to leave you for two years when I realised. How could I?”
Arthit takes a deep breath, regret flooding through him. Two years, Kongpob was away, eight months he’s been back, and all that time..
“Tell me.”
Kong’s eyes widen, “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
They end up side by side on the bed wearing soft cotton pajamas, matching of course thanks to the lovely May in procurement. Arthit knows she has a soft spot for Kongpob so their mission attire is always beautifully made, high quality, designer when she has the budget.
It’s a comfort to tug the sleeves over his hands so that he can’t let them wander to Kongpob beside him. And he notes that Kong has also hidden his own too, only his fingertips sneaking out of the ends of the fabric.
“Remember the night we celebrated capturing Elando?” Kong asks and Arthit nods, unable to prevent a smirk at the man’s name.
“Our finest hour! That guy was a snake if ever I met one.. Remember when we had to hide in those barrels for hours while he hosted that meeting and yours was full of feathers? You came out looking like a plucked chicken!”
Beside him Kong stifles a laugh, then turns serious eyes back on him. “Then”
“Wait a minute..” Arthit’s jaw drops as he calculates the time, “That wasn’t two years ago.”
“No. But I didn’t know what it meant then.”
“You didn’t know, what, what meant?”
“The feeling.” Kong shifts on the bed, making it dip slightly so that Arthit has to shuffle too so as not to topple over.
He puts out one hand to keep his balance and Kong’s fingers swoop down to rest over it.
Immediately, Arthit shivers at the contact.
“That feeling.” Kongpob says firmly, squeezing Arthit’s hand.
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.”
“Well, what did you think it was?” Arthit asks as he twists his hand so that their fingers link together.
“Maybe gratitude? Maybe admiration? I didn’t really know for sure.”
Arthit focuses his attention on the way Kong is speaking. He sounds strange. Maybe nervous or shy. But not his usual self.
“Okay. Then, what changed two years ago?”
Kongpob shifts again, “It was.. Look, the day Knott told me I was going solo, I was shocked. I didn’t expect it. We’d always worked together and we worked well together. I didn’t want the mission and I told him that. But then he said… well he said something and it made me realise that I didn’t actually want the mission because I didn’t want to leave you.”
“You still left me.” Arthit knows he’s being selfish. You do what The Company tells you to, and it’s just business. It’s just their job, what they were trained to do.
“I didn’t want to.”
Arthit shuffles closer, soaking in the heat the other man is radiating. “When you came back..” he starts, but his eyes start to water as he remembers and there’s a lump in his throat.
“I was broken.” Kongpob whispers into the gap between them, not meeting Arthit’s eyes.
“I hated it. Seeing you like that,” Arthit admits and lifts his free hand to gently tilt Kong’s chin up so that their eyes meet. “I just wanted to make everything better. When you stumbled into that meeting, you looked like a ghost. I was terrified. I just wanted you back. The real you. Not that facade you showed everyone else. I’m so sorry that I forced you to go into rehab, but I was so scared for you..”
“I’m glad you did.” Kongpob tucks a strand of hair behind Arthit’s ear and then lets his fingers linger on his cheek, “If you hadn’t, I don’t think I’d still be here..”
“Don’t say that. Please?”
“I’m not better yet, Arthit. I know what my reviews say. I know I’m still a risk. It’s clearly recorded in my file.”
Arthit breathes him in, then nudges his head closer so that they are sharing the same pillow, “I vouched for you because I believe in you. I wouldn’t have agreed to work with you again if I didn’t think you were ready.”
“I know.” Kongpob shuffles closer, “I admire your resolve and your trust in me, Arthit. But I’m still.. not right.”
“Then why did you let me..”
“I need to kill this guy. I need closure. After that.. I’ll take a break.” Kongpob’s eyes burn fiercely and Arthit believes him. He’s going to care for himself properly at last.
“Then, we need to kill the bastard?”
“Yes, we need to kill him,” Kong agrees.
“And after, you’ll take a break?”
“I’ll take a break.”
“Can I take a break with you? I’ve been waiting almost eight years.” Arthit holds his breath.
“I was hoping you’d ask that. Wait.. eight?”
The gap between them vanishes as Arthit swallows Kongpob’s surprise.
Their wedding rings clink lightly together as Kongpob hovers over Arthit.
The bedding is wrinkled as Arthit shows Kongpob what eight years of waiting looks like.
And the next day? They kill the bastard!
“Didn’t you say a week?” Arthit asks, smirking as he slams down the contents of the bastard’s safe on the meeting room table.
“Didn’t you say two and a half?” Knott counters, eyes widening as he flicks through the paperwork in his hand. “You got everything?!”
“Everything.” Arthit confirms, “Including his head.. well both of them actually, courtesy of Kongpob.” He winks at Knott and then stands to leave.
“Wait, Arthit. We need to de-brief and then we have another mission to discuss. There’s a smuggling ring working out of Florida that I need you and Kongpob to start on immediately..”
“Oh, you didn’t hear?” Arthit asks, heart pounding and a delighted smile filling his face, “As of today, Kongpob and I are on annual leave.”
He turns to leave.
“For how long?” His handler asks, panic clear in his voice.
“We haven’t decided.” Arthit laughs and then waves his fingers over his shoulder as he exits the room.
He makes his way down to the safe room at the end of the corridor and raps his knuckles against the metal.
“Just me,” he calls out and then slides inside to find Kongpob hovering over a suitcase, looking panicked.
“The printed swim shorts or the plain ones? I just don’t know..”
Arthit heads over to him and plucks both pairs from his hands, “Why bring any? I don’t plan to let you get dressed for at least two weeks.”
“Since when are you so insatiable?” Kongpob grins, sliding his hands over Arthit’s hips and pulling him close.
“Since a certain someone admitted their feelings at last, and then butchered a guy because he looked at me funny!”
“Oh, that.” Kongpob has the audacity to smirk.
“Yes, that. I could have taken that guy out myself.”
“I know.. but I enjoyed playing your husband so much!” He winks and leans in to peck Arthit’s mouth.
“Well, you’re going to be playing my husband for a little while longer, I booked the island with the ‘married couples only’ resort.”
“Arthit!”
“What? I thought you’d enjoy it. It’s very private..”
Suddenly a voice interrupts and Arthit takes a step away as Prae moves into their space, “So you meant it?”
“Yes, boss. We meant it. We need some time..”
“I need some time.” Kongpob says firmly, “And Arthit offered to accompany me and be my..” he pauses as though searching for the right word, “my therapist.” He finished, smirking at Arthit who feels his cheeks heat as their boss raises an eyebrow.
“Right, therapist. You know we have those here? We even pay them to help our agents out.”
“True, but none of them can offer me the intensive treatment that Arthit can.”
“Carry on like that and I’m pulling my knife!” Arthit hisses, before smiling sunnily at Prae. “I think it’s for the best, Prae. Then when we’re ready, we’ll be back and be much much improved at our jobs!”
“Possibly that’s true, the clean up at the ranch was the worst one we’ve had to do. I don’t know what you two did to those guys..” she holds up a hand as Kongpob opens his mouth, clearly eager to share, “No, no, and I don’t want to know. I just can’t decide who’s best to take your place while you’re away, in therapy.” She gives them a pointed look to show that she knows exactly what kind of therapy they have planned.
“How about… M and May?” Arthit asks, grinning.
“Yes, they’d be perfect.” Kongpob agrees. “Especially for the couple work since they’re actually married!”
“Hey! I also have a gun strapped to my leg, Kong!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Kongpob holds up his hands and then swoops in to wrap his arms around Arthit’s waist, angling his head for a kiss.
A throat clears and they spring back, “Right, enjoy your… therapy, gentlemen. See you on your return.”
“Yes, Prae.” They chorus, leaning in for a kiss as she disappears around the door.
“Are you sure?” Kongpob asks as they draw away.
“I’ve never been more certain.” Arthit replies firmly, “Now, about those swimming shorts…”
The end.