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“And of course, Arthit you’ll be in here with Kongpob, okay?”
Arthit grimaces, but at Kongpob’s stern look manages to tip his mouth into something resembling a smile instead.
“Stop it!” Kong growls quietly out of the corner of his mouth while simultaneously smiling at the woman who is clattering at the door with a giant bunch of keys. Eventually, she manages to cram the correct one in the lock and swings the door open.
“I don’t just let any guests stay in here, you know?” The woman holds out an arm to indicate the room, Arthit’s jaw dropping as he stares at the cramped quarters, mostly taken up by a small double bed which is shoved against the window sill.
Crammed next to it is a tiny bedside table holding a rickety looking lamp and there’s a doorway that must lead to the en-suite that she had promised - the only reason Arthit agreed to share this dump with Kongpob.
“I don’t get many married men here, you know?” The landlady gives them the kind of grin that Arthit would usually have an answering retort ready for, but before he can speak, Kongpob’s enormous hand scoops up his and Arthit’s attention drops to their joined flesh.
“Ah, I can’t imagine you do, out here.. I don’t suppose you get a lot of anything really?” Kongpob is subtly insulting the woman, but she definitely doesn’t notice, instead more focussed on their linked hands.
Arthit starts to squeeze, slowly crushing Kong’s finger between his own, taking pleasure in the way the other man has to grit his teeth. “Well, thanks. We’ll take it from here,” he says dismissively and tries to slide past her into their room.
“Don’t you want to know about breakfast and everything?” She asks, looking put out.
“That’s fine. I saw the sign downstairs.” Kongpob says, sliding after Arthit, hand still tucked in his.
“Oh, well then, goodnight. No loud noises after 9pm!”
Kongpob smiles politely while Arthit clenches his jaw, then Kong leans forward to close the door, shepherding the woman out.
“At last,” Arthit groans, dropping Kong’s hand and moving as far away as he can, which ends up being the foot of the bed beside the window. “I thought she’d never leave.”
Kongpob stretches out his fingers as he steps to the other side of the bed and tries to switch on the lamp. They both watch as it flickers twice and then goes dark.
“Hmm, I guess we get what we’re paying for.” Kongpob tries to grin, but it falters at Arthit’s dark gaze.
“And why exactly have we ended up here when the rest of them are over there in the only decent hotel this shitty town has?” Arthit really can’t help the venom in his voice. One minute he was fast asleep in the bus, the next, Pick and Rome were laughing in his ears and disturbing him in general as they told him the bus was stuck.
“You know why,” Kongpob says firmly as he steps over to open the bathroom door, “You were the one who lost at Rock, Paper, Scissors.”
“Stop reminding me!” Arthit shoves the curtain aside, peering through the dirty glass. The town is covered in a layer of white, snow still falling thickly, shimmering in the street lamps.
Arthit feels as cold as the street outside, but he doesn’t want Kong to know, he’ll just go all bleeding heart on him and end up insisting on racing off somewhere to try and find him more clothes or a hot drink or something.
Arthit doesn’t have the energy to deal with that. Instead, he’ll just do what he always does when something doesn’t go his way and he’s stuck with Kong - grit his teeth, purposefully disagree with everything Kongpob says and try to ignore him in general.
Although, he’s not sure how to ignore someone when there’s barely enough room to get past each other and the bed looks smaller than the one he sleeps in alone at home.
He looks out at the snow again, remembering times when he’s enjoyed it - snowball fights with his friends, curling up in the warmth beside a roaring fire, days off from school and sliding down hills on a metal tray.
It’s good when it happens in the right place and at the right time. Not when you’re on the way home from a corporate event and the bus gets stuck in a random town in the middle of nowhere.
Especially not when the only decent hotel in town has barely any rooms free and you’re responsible for losing the chance to stay in one.
And absolutely not when the only other place to stay in town has just one room available which the landlady is a stickler for renting to married couples only.
Arthit fingers the ring on his left hand again, twirling it stiffly where it only just fits. Borrowing it from Kongpob, who has much slender fingers, had been embarrassing. But he’s glad that at least the other members of their team hadn’t seen him slip it on, nor overheard Kongpob agreeing that yes, the room is for a married couple.
Arthit’s eyes flicker to the closed bathroom door and then to the bed. It’s not the worst thing in the world, he thinks, at least he’s not stuck in here with Pick who is far too loud to deal with and would probably have been wrapped around him like an anaconda in front of the landlady, or trying to kiss him or something.
He shudders at the thought and then moves to stand in the space beside the bed, flicking a finger at the lamp which splutters noisily, making him jump away. “Bloody cheap piece of crap!”
Arthit takes another step away from the table and fingers the bed sheet. It’s soft at least and he considers climbing in immediately, a shiver making him shudder as he remembers how cold he is.
But then the bathroom door clicks open, a cloud of warm steam exiting alongside Kongpob whose face is pink and shiny.
“Bathroom’s free and the shower’s warm, which is good since this room feels like an ice box. I left you the.. nicer towel. Enjoy!”
Kongpob’s grin is almost disarming.
Almost. Arthit’s lips creeping up a tiny bit before he forces his face back into a frown.
“Here,” Kongpob thrusts a pharmacy bag into his hand, “You can have these.”
So that’s what Kong was doing while Arthit spent his time after dinner moaning about having to share a room with him. Arthit feels himself start to flush in shame as he grabs the bag and storms away, ducking his head.
“Twist it to the right for warm..” Arthit cuts off Kong’s voice as he slams the door behind himself.
The bathroom is almost nicer than the rest of the room, and for a second Arthit just breathes in the warmth, body beginning to defrost at last. Looking around, he wonders if it would be possible to sleep in here instead of the main room. But there’s only a shower, no bath, which is a shame.
The bag has a toothbrush and paste in it, so he quickly refreshes his breath and then pulls off his layers and hops in the shower. It’s only when he’s ready to leave the warmth behind that he remembers Kongpob saying he’d left him the ‘nicer’ towel.
A huge picture of Richard Gere stares back at him, resplendent in a white naval officer suit. Clearly their landlady has a thing for the guy since Kongpob’s is hung neatly on the rail, Richard Gere and Julia Roberts in a risqué pose from ‘Pretty Woman’.
Arthit shudders as he imagines rubbing himself against that image.. it’s bad enough he has to use Richard’s rather large chin to scrub his intimate parts dry.
He slips his clothes back on, feeling a bit gross after such a good clean, and imagines Rome and Pick lolling around in the bathrobes that he’s certain the nice hotel across town provides for their guests.
Before he exits the bathroom, Arthit stares at himself in the mirror and gives his reflection a pep talk.
“You can get through this. It’s just one night,” his reflection looks back at him unimpressed and Arthit curls a hand through his damp hair, pulling it down to spread out his fringe, different from his usual style where it’s gelled back, it will dry much quicker like this. “You’ve got this, Arthit.”
Back in the main room, it feels like the temperature might have risen by a lowly degree, but it’s still cold enough that Arthit wishes for a towelling robe or a roaring fire, or at least a radiator pumping out heat.
“How was Mr. Gere?” Kongpob grins at him from where he’s staring out of the window, admiring the snow.
“You could have warned me!” Arthit crosses the space and presses a shoulder against Kong’s so he can see the outside world as well. “Did you know it was going to snow?”
Arthit feels softer somehow, since his shower, less prickly about being here alone with Kong. Maybe he’s washed some of his disappointment down the drain at not staying in the hotel?
“I knew it was forecast. But not this much.” Kongpob’s eyes seem to look right through Arthit, as though they can see into his soul and he reaches out to lift his hand, “Does this bother you so much?”
The way he’s holding Arthit’s wrist displays the silver ring and Kongpob’s own gold one worn on the same finger. “I’m sorry you got stuck here with me, I know you’d rather be..” he waves a hand at the window, “Over there with your friends.”
Arthit squeezes his eyes, nose scrunching, “It’s not that. Pick and Rome would have driven me insane if I’d had to share with them. I wouldn’t have gotten a wink of sleep or even a moment of quiet. At least I know you have some respect..”
He tugs his hand away, “And at least you smell decent.. after your shower, I mean.”
Arthit feels his cheeks heat up at his careless comment, what a stupid thing to say!
“You smell nicer too,” Kongpob grins, “And.. I like your hair like that.. you look, softer somehow.”
Arthit shoves a hand against his head, having forgotten that Kongpob’s rarely seen him this way before. “It’s to help it dry.. Richard’s nose could only do so much to get the water out.”
The chuckle is deep and warm and Arthit can’t help but glance at Kongpob in surprise. It’s rare he jokes around or laughs like this. It sounds nice, if Arthit’s honest. Nice and.. attractive.
Arthit ducks away and looks back out at the snow, “Think it will clear by morning?”
“I hope so. We really need to be back in the city. There’s a lot to do,” Kong sounds worried and Arthit knows he should be too, but.. watching the snow fall, he starts to feel more peaceful than concerned. It’s rare to see snowfall like this where he lives and all his thoughts from before about it being awkward around Kong start to dissipate as he stands elbow to elbow with him admiring the view.
They stay there, looking out until Kongpob’s wrist watch beeps the hour.
“So, what kind of trouble do you think she’ll give us for making noise after 9pm?” Kong asks as he silences the glowing timepiece.
“Maybe it’ll be one Richard Gere movie per crime?”
Kongpob’s laughter splutters out of him and a warm feeling builds in Arthit’s chest. He’s damn cute when he’s laughing.
“I guess we should try to sleep?”
They fight over who switches out the light, but Arthit wins their battle and waits patiently by the door as Kongpob slips into bed.
Arthit’s trying to distract himself from thinking Kong’s cute, but when they awkwardly shuffle around on the bed, Kongpob nearest the wall, Arthit beside the faulty lamp, he realises that it’s worse to be here in bed with him than it was standing side-by-side at the window, watching the snow.
Lying in bed at 9pm with the colleague you might by trying not to crush on, with nothing to distract from the situation is just a tad uncomfortable.
Everytime one of them moves, their arms knock together. And they move a lot. Turns out the comforter might be soft and inviting, but the mattress? Not so much!
“Do you think she personally found a way to make this the most inhabitable room in the world?” Kong eventually whispers into the blackness.
Arthit stifles his giggle, hand pressed to his mouth, “What clued you in? The towels, the lack of heat, the blank walls or the light that tried to kill us earlier?”
Kongpob shifts and splutters out a laugh, their thighs coming into contact and arms resting together again.
Then his voice turns serious as he whispers, “Arthit? Can I tell you something?”
Arthit nods, and then realises that Kongpob can’t see him, “Yeah..”
“Just.. I wanted to tell you that I.. I know..”
Kongpob sounds nervous and his breathing is sharp in the stillness of the space.
Arthit’s chest contracts uncomfortably as he wonders exactly what his colleague thinks he knows. It surely can’t be how he feels, because Arthit is so careful to hide it away under his bluster and dagger eyes.
He breathes deeply, cold air hitting his lungs sharply and causing his throat to contract. “What.. what do you mean?”
There’s a lot of shuffling beside him, and then, in the tiny sliver of light from the streetlamp outside, Arthit sees Kongpob’s soft face looking at him. He takes another shaky breath.
“I know you don’t like me.” Kongpob’s voice is a little sad, a little defeated, “Even though I tried.. you just.. don’t.”
Arthit can’t bear the pain he can hear. Sure he might speak harshly to Kong sometimes, might ignore him when he gets too close to him, might not include him in his group texts or nights out.
But all those things are to protect Arthit’s heart. They’re all necessary to make sure he’s not hurt, or worse, to make sure he doesn’t ‘out’ his feelings in the middle of the office one day.
Staying away from the other man as much as possible is the only way to keep himself sane. It’s why he was so angry at having to share this space with him.
As the silence stretches between them, Kongpob shifts again, moving so that he’s facing the wall, showing his back to Arthit.
Arthit, who lies there, still and unable to reply.
After ten minutes, in which Arthit tries desperately not to shiver and disturb the other man, there are little snuffles of steady breathing.
“Kongpob? Are you asleep?”
There isn’t a reply and the snuffles continue rhythmically.
“I don’t dislike you,” Arthit whispers into the darkness, “Truly, I don’t. It’s just..”
“Just?” Kongpob shuffles to face him again and Arthit’s heart thumps harder, bashing against his chest as he imagines saying it.
Is he going to do this?
“Please, Arthit?”
The pleading is too much for him. In the darkness of the room, it feels unreal. Like a secret shared here, in this unexpected place, is a secret that could stay between them. The swirling storm outside has created an unknown world, a blank slate that Arthit can colour with whatever he chooses. If he tells a secret here, he can just paint over it tomorrow.
Arthit’s going to do this.
He breathes steadily, trying to slow his heartbeat and then opens his mouth, readying himself to say the least he possibly can, “I don’t dislike you, Kongpob, the fact is.. I.. I like you.. too much.”
The silence hangs heavy between them.. Arthit trying not to breathe too loudly and Kongpob lying frozen as though in shock.
When he’s counted one hundred and eighty beats, Arthit decides he has to say something. He gulps the frigid air.
“It’s okay. I don’t expect you to reply to that. I know it’s ridiculous, Kongpob. I know i>I’m ridiculous. I mean you have your wife at home and I never had a chance at all.. that’s why I try to stay away, surely you understand that. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable. I was trying to avoid this..”
“What? Wife? Huh?” Kongpob pushes himself up so that his back is to the headrest, blanket pooled around his waist. Even in the dark, Arthit can feel the confusion radiating off him and wonders what’s going on. So he bravely levers his body up too and props himself beside him.
Kongpob’s voice whips round to fill the gap, “You think I'm married?”
There’s a banging on the wall beside them and a deep, muffled voice calls for quiet.
“Umm,” Arthit whispers, “Yeah. Everyone said you are. That lady who comes by.. she’s your wife..”
Instead of admitting it, or getting angry, Kongpob huffs out a laugh, “Prae? You think that Prae is my wife? Wow! I guess no one in our office has decent gaydar? I thought Pick and Rome were.. anyway, beside the point, Prae only dates girls.”
Arthit covers his face with a hand, “Those idiots,”
“And Arthit?”
He nods.
“You know I can’t see when you nod right?” Kongpob sounds like he’s amused and it irks Arthit.
“Not my fault you killed the lamp!”
“Hey! It clearly killed itself, you were there!”
“I’m beginning to rethink my assessment of the situation.. I will need more evidence to prove it.”
Kongpob’s hand reaches out and grips his elbow, “Stop talking like you’re in the office.”
“I can talk however I want, Kongpob! You’re not my team leader when we’re out of hours.”
The hand holding Arthit’s arm slides down and suddenly, there are fingers between Arthit’s and he whispers, “Huh?”
Kongpob squeezes gently, “Arthit? No we’re not in the office, so you don’t have to listen. But I hope you will.” There’s another pause and then Kongoob takes a breath, “Prae is my best friend, not my wife. And truly, she only dates girls.”
“Okay,” Arthit feels like an idiot as he sits in bed, freezing his toes off, hand tucked into Kongpob’s who he has just, sort of, confessed to.
“And Arthit?” Arthit nods again, “I still can’t see you nodding..”
“How did you know I nodded then?”
“I guessed based on.. oh never mind, the point is, Arthit. Prae only dates girls,”
“You’ve said that three time already!”
“Would you stop interrupting?” There’s frustration tinged with a touch of laughter now.
“What if I don’t?” Arthit asks cheekily, twisting a little so he’s looking approximately at where Kongpob is.
“Then, maybe, I’ll have to shut you up!”
Arthit laughs, “I’d like to see you try… Oomph!”
The kiss is short, but to the point, Arthit’s whole mouth is covered firmly by Kongpob’s. He can’t help but chase Kong’s mouth as he pulls away, but Kong lifts his free hand and places a finger over Arthit’s lips.
“As I was trying to say before you so rudely interrupted..”
“I think I’ve figured it out, actually!”
“You are so annoying!”
“But you like me anyway?”
Arthit can hear the nerves in his own voice, even as he reaches over to twirl the ring on his finger, forgetting that it’s still laced with Kongpob’s own.
“You like wearing my ring?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Oh, I thought you’d ‘figured it out, actually’ and didn’t need me to say it?”
“Kongpob! I need you to say it!”
Kong wiggles his hand out of Arthit’s, then lifts his whole arm and drapes it around his shoulders, tugging him closer, “Yes, I like you Arthit.”
“Finally!”
“Oi! You thought I was married to Prae for the past five months! My very gay, very crazy best friend!”
“Well, you made me stay in this hovel with you..”
“I did not! You lost the game!”
“You distracted me when I was playing!”
“Ridiculous, now you’re just making things up…”
“Am not.. you did that thing with your tongue…” Arthit’s voice trails off, uncertainly.
“I did what thing with my tongue? When?”
Arthit drops his voice to a whisper again, “Is this going to be.. more than just now? Because I know, with the snow and the crazy room and the stupid bed and the darkness.. maybe this is sort of.. romantic?”
Kongpob tightens his arm around Arthit’s shoulder, drawing him closer into his warm chest, then whispers, “Romantic? With the fucked up light trying to kill me and Richard Gere rubbing my man parts dry? I’m not sure you’ve ever been romanced if you think this is it?”
“Kongpob! Stop it!”
“Sorry, sorry.. it’s not just.. the..” he chokes out the words, “the romantic situation, it’s you. It’s been you since the moment you stepped out of the lift wearing those terrible golf socks..”
“I told you, it was laundry day!” Arthit bats his hand against Kong’s thigh and then.. just leaves it there.
“Yes.. you did.. Arthit, it’s been you since you shyly asked me what my coffee order was. It’s been you through every attempt to put me off. You when I was sick and you left the cold medicine on my desk. You when I got stuck in the car park and you gave me a lift home.”
Arthit squeezes Kong’s thigh as he continues, the words like sweets.
“Arthit, It’s been you and only you since I laid eyes on you. It’s been five months of you.. and now..” Kong’s voice dips into something more intimate, “I want it to be you for a long, long time.. but perhaps with less of the being mean and trying to push me away? What do you think?”
Arthit presses his grin against Kongpob’s armpit, “Yes please.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite hear that, since you were telling it to my armpit hair.. Can I hear your answer again?”
“Yes, you idiot! Come here!”
Five months of longing turns into fifty minutes of making out.
“I can’t believe you went to the chemist and you didn’t get lube or condoms!”
“Arthit! Since when did I know I’d need them? You hated me… remember?”
“I didn’t hate you! I was just.. trying to protect myself from heartache since you were married!”
“Rumoured to be married.. to my gay best friend!”
Arthit hits Kong’s chest lightly, “Well, how was I supposed to know.. And, anyway, it’s not like you ever told me how you felt, good job I was brave and admitted it! Besides it’s too cold to get naked with you right now.”
“Yes.. it is.”
“And I can’t believe you.. wait, what? Did you just agree with me?”
“I think I did.” Kongpob sounds surprised too.
“Wait.. which part are you agreeing about? My being brave or it being cold?”
“Definitely you being brave. Although.. it is still fucking freezing.”
“Oh! Do you think it’s the effect of the towel or the lamp or the crazy ass room or the snow?”
“Sure, Arthit. I imagine it’s all of those things affecting the climate of the room, now come here..”
They snuggle into each other, Arthit’s head on Kongpob’s shoulder, Kongpob’s arms encircling him.
“Kongpob?”
“Yes?” He drops a kiss to Arthit’s head, smiling.
“I think there’s a spring in my ass crack!”
“Arthit!”
“What? It hurts!”
“You’re ruining the romantic moment!”
Arthit shuffles around, “What could be romantic about having a spring up my arse?”
“I’ll show you spring up your arse.. come here!”
They end up with Kongpob on his back and Arthit draped over him, snuggled deep into his chest, covers wrapped tightly around them.
“Kongpob?”
“There is no way another spring is in your arse cheek..”
“No, no.. not that. Just, I wanted to say..” he tails off and waits, a cheeky smile on his face.
“Arthit? You better finish that sentence or..”
“Or what?”
“Or.. I’m not putting out for a month!”
Arthit gasps, “No! No! I.. just wanted to tell you something.”
“And.. it is?”
“I’m really glad I lost at Rock, Paper, Scissors.”
Kongpob lets out a whoosh of air and Arthit feels himself dip down on his chest, “Oh.. that. You didn’t.. technically..”
Arthit lifts his head, “Excuse me?”
“Umm. I guess I know which order you choose.. every time it’s the same.. so I.. told Pick, because he was desperate to share with Rome and you were being all.. you know..”
“Kongpob? Do you particularly like your penis?”
“Arthit!”
The end…