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“So, I’ll see you on Saturday at our cafe?” Namtarn asks, then flips her hair over her shoulder, the universal signal for ‘look at me’, and gives him a shy smile.
Arthit’s knees are shaking, though he tries not to show it, and he can only nod at her as she turns and walks away, hips swinging.
“Oooo! Ai’Thit’s got a date!” Bright crows as Arthit turns to them with a dazed expression, dropping onto the bench beside Knott who reaches out and squeezes his shoulder.
“All right there? You look like all your worst nightmares came true at once.”
Arthit knows his smile looks like a grimace as he turns startled eyes on his best friend and tries to muster a voice that is more enthusiastic, “I have a date. With Nam.”
“We know!” Tootah exclaims excitedly, reaching out and patting his cheek, “We all heard how she asked and how robotically you accepted. Are you sure you want to go out with her?”
The conversation ends abruptly when the bell rings for class and the third years scatter off to their lectures. As they settle into their seats, Arthit turns wide eyes on his best friend, “Knott? Why did I say yes to Nam? She’s only just finished things with Jay and I shouldn’t get involved in that. What was I thinking?”
Knott gives him a small, knowing, smile, “You were thinking that you’ve liked her for years and that finally she’s both interested and available? You were thinking that you need to try this to see if you actually like her? It’ll be fine!”
There’s a silence between them as Knott watches his best friend shrewdly, “Is there something else worrying you, Arthit?”
Arthit drops his head into his hands, his voice muffled as he whispers, “Knott, I think I do like her, but I’ve never even been on a date… what if she wants to hold hands or.. do things with me?”
“Do things?” Knott laughs low and soft, “What do you think she’ll expect on a first date? It’s not going to be full blown sex, Arthit!” He laughs again as Arthit blushes pinkly, “Maybe, a kiss at most, surely?”
Arthit lifts his head and widens his eyes, heart thudding fiercely at the thought. He watches his friend for a moment as Knott’s eyes flicker over him, and then he seems to finally get it, “Oh Arthit! Haven’t you ever…?”
Arthit shakes his head and then drops it back to his desk, groaning.
“It’ll be fine,” Knott rests his hand on Arthit’s forearm, “You’ll be fine.. or.. I mean, you could practise, if you think it would help?”
Arthit’s head whips up, but he doesn’t get a chance to ask Knott what he means, because suddenly their teacher is in the room and spouting about the homework and they don’t get another second to themselves after that.
But the whole way through the lecture, the thought of Namtarn trying to kiss him dances in his brain - and not in the attractive way, more like ‘please kill me now!’
And Knott’s suggestion that he practise is there too, swirling from Namtarn’s face into someone much more manly.. younger.. more annoying.
Arthit grips his hair and tries to forget it, tries to push away all thoughts of what might, possibly, be his first kiss and all thoughts of who he might like to share it with.
He has to.. for his own sanity!
——————
After hazing, Knott insists that they hit the nearest bar, Arthit collapsing onto a stool, shoulders tight from holding in his anxiety and trying to block out images of a certain young man. But as they all settle in, frosted glasses of beer in front of them, he lets it out in a long, low groan.
“Jeez, you were harsh tonight, Arthit!” Prem says, glancing over as he slaps his shoulder hard, “Even I need a drink after that and those freshmen looked shattered.”
Arthit swallows down his first glass of beer, followed swiftly by a shot of pure rum, while the others recount the afternoon’s hazing and list the freshmen they are most worried about (or most attracted to in Bright’s case). For a few minutes, Arthit simply listens while he gulps down more alcohol as though someone is planning to snatch it away from him, trying not to hear the name’s they are mentioning for fear he hears the one he’s currently trying to wipe clear from his mind.
“Okay, sailor, enough!” Knott says at last, grabbing Arthit’s shot glass and poking a finger into the dimple in his cheek, “You’ve had enough and if you carry on you’ll hate yourself - and us - tomorrow. I’m going to take him home, guys.”
Arthit wobbles in Knott’s hold, moaning as they traverse the bumpy path outside the bar, “Why haven’t I ever kissed anyone, Knott?”
“Have you ever wanted to?” Knott replies, easily manoeuvring them around a large hole in the pavement and on towards Arthit’s apartment building, “I mean, seriously? Have you ever looked at someone and thought, I want to kiss her?”
Arthit nods frantically, but it hurts his sore head, so he stops, “Yes, of course. Her. You mean.. oh. Well, there was Namtarn.”
He thinks hard for another girl he can say he’s liked enough to kiss, but there’s a gaping black hole where a face should be. Except, for a moment, the image of of his freshman, completing sit-stands as his eyes burn into Arthit’s, makes him pause, before he shoves it aside once more and tries to visualise Namtarn’s smiling face and soft brown hair instead.
The silence stretches long between them and as they reach his dorm room, Knott twists them so they are facing each other, “And, is there still Namtarn? Or...” He widens his eyes and Arthit wonders what he’s trying to say, if perhaps his friend is more perceptive than he gives him credit for? So he just asks him.
“What are you asking me, Knott? Is there something you want to say? Something you’re expecting to hear?”
“Do you still want to kiss Namtarn?” Knott asks bluntly.
Arthit recoils and then gathers himself quickly to say, “Yes! Of course.. only..”
“Only..?”
Arthit pushes himself out of Knott’s hold and heads for the door to his building, “It’s nothing Knott, don’t worry I’ll be fine!”
“Arthit!”
He turns and looks back at Knott and sees something soft and maybe it’s understanding that Arthit hadn’t expected to see. He’d always thought Knott would judge him too. Perhaps, he’s wrong?
“I’m okay Knott. I mean, I’ll be okay.”
His friend grunts after him, but Arthit isn’t interested in anything else he has to say tonight. Instead, he wants to wallow in his bed and just try to forget everything. It’s doesn’t feel like he’s had a teenage dream come true today - Namtarn asking him out. Instead, it feels like he’s questioning everything about himself and it’s not what he wants to do when he’s had a drink, on top of an exhausting day.
So, of course, just as he steps into the elevator, his most irritating junior steps up beside him and they end up shoulder to shoulder in the small space.
He tries to hold his breath so that he doesn’t end up saying something to Kongpob that he doesn’t mean and hopes that they can stand in silence and basically ignore each other for the whole ride (and why is the kid in his building anyway? Doesn’t he live.. elsewhere?)
He also tries to hold his breath so the delicious scent of the younger man’s aftershave doesn’t crowd his senses - it doesn’t work.
Naturally, the gods don’t shine down on him, and as they enter the elevator, Kongpob launches into a speech that sounds almost rehearsed, as though he’s picked this exact moment to confront Arthit and has been thinking about his lines the entire day in preparation. As though he has been watching from somewhere nearby and has made sure they are alone for this important conversation.
Rudely, Arthit tunes his speech out, alcohol still sloshing in his stomach, until he hears a phrase that makes his blood run cold, “...and of course, Phi, we all know you’re frustrated right now, but, and I don’t mean to try and tell you what to do, only that it’s making the freshmen angry and I don’t think you’re intention is bad at all..”
He ignores the wave of nausea in his throat and turns cold eyes on Kongpob instead and asks, in a steely voice, “Frustrated? What do you mean by that? What do you think I’m frustrated about?”
Kongpob stares back at him, eyes flitting over Arthit’s face in a way that does not make his stomach lurch (it’s just the alcohol and Kongpob’s overwhelming aftershave, Arthit tells himself firmly). But, just as he opens his mouth to reply, they are plunged into darkness and there’s a loud grating sound of metal or metal and the elevator shudders to a halting stop!
Arthit ends up sprawled on his back on cold metal, with Kongpob’s face smushed into one armpit and his junior’s body pressed down the length of his own. His head is just thinking, ‘yes, this is what you’ve been waiting for’, when two large hands push down against his chest and Kongpob levers himself up. Arthit tries to stop the full body shiver that makes him lurch away from the floor, but, honestly, he’s grateful that Kongpob can’t see him in the dark.
But of course, Kongpob is more perceptive than Arthit gives him credit for.
“You don’t like the dark either?” Kongpob suddenly feels too close and Arthit wishes he could see him as he carefully pushes himself up and curls his arms around his knees.
“I don’t like being trapped in an elevator! That’s what I don’t like! Now, what do we do?” He asks, aware of how unpleasant he sounds, his voice bouncing off the walls, but Arthit doesn’t care as the small space seems to draw in on him and every breath smells like Kongpob.
When Kongpob’s phone suddenly brightens the space and his junior moves towards the side of the elevator, pressing the alarm button with a long, slender finger, Arthit’s eyes track him. The loud alarm raises Arthit’s anxiety higher and he’s grateful when it stops.
“I suppose we have to wait,” Kongpob replies and then turns the torch on Arthit. Whatever he sees, has him dropping down into the tiny space next to him and whispering, “It’ll be okay. I’m sure they’ll have us out soon.”
Arthit wishes he was still drunk, but the impact has knocked him into sobriety and he knows that whatever happens next can’t be blamed on the alcohol. Still, when Kongpob sniffs the air around him and asks, “Are you drunk?” Arthit finds himself murmuring that he is and he doesn’t really care what Kongpob thinks of him.
“Oh no, I wasn’t judging you, Phi!” Kongpob’s shoulder brushes against his own and Arthit’s insides feel like jelly and he wonders if it’s normal to have such an intense reaction to another guy.
Sure, he’d been trying to forget about him earlier on when Knott had been pressing him about his feelings. but it’s probably nothing to do with that. It’s probably just a proximity thing and the fact that he can still feel unwanted adrenaline rushing through his body from when the lift juddered to a halt. Still, he decides it’s better that he doesn’t speak just in case.
“Sorry.” Kongpob’s voice is hesitant and his shoulder touches Arthit’s again and then.. just stays there, a heavy weight at his side.
It’s kind of nice if Arthit is honest with himself, which he usually tries to be (feelings for Namtarn and.. others.. don’t count!). So, if he presses his shoulder back against Kongpob’s, well, they’re the only two who will ever know.
After a long, kind of awkward silence, Kongpob shifts and nudges him. Speaking with all the confidence that usually annoys Arthit, he asks, “You didn’t say, before… So, are you, Phi? Frustrated?”
Arthit feels shame and fear rush through him and he knows that he is blushing and he is grateful that the torch light is so weak. Whatever Kongpob wants to hear, Arthit really doesn’t want to say.
But his junior presses on, voice urgent, “I only ask because the rest of my batch, they don’t see you the same way I do, so they don't always understand your actions. They don't realise that you are trying to make us into a unified group who are as strong apart as we are together. But I do, I get it and my friends do too, well.. now they do. But I hate to see you so annoyed and so.. frustrated, Phi!”
There, that word again. It irritates Arthit, because he’s not frustrated with the freshmen, he’s frustrated with himself. And really, it’s the dark and the warmth of Kongpob’s shoulder and the understanding in his voice that make Arthit reply. It’s not something more than that, he tries to convince himself.
“I am. You know… What you said. But not because of you freshmen. Because of.. Well, personal reasons.”
“Oh…” Kongpob sounds like Arthit just let the air out of an inflated balloon, “I see. So, not us.. then your work or your friends or your..”
“Stop prying, 0062!” Arthit pulls himself away and pushes with his hands until he’s probably opposite Kongpob, the low lighting shows little of his junior but as he settles down, their trainers knock together. Once he’s as comfortable as he is going to get, he sinks back into the wall and tries to forget where he is and who he’s with and exactly what is happening.
His junior is suspiciously quiet, but Arthit tries to forget that too as he imagines his date on Saturday.
It’s all going well, he and Namtarn have eaten and chatted and are walking home along the river where they pause and admire the view. Then Nam turns to him with an expectant expression and her lips pouted and Arthit loses it and yells, “I CAN’T, I’VE NEVER KISSED ANYONE, OKAY!”
Except, he kind of shouts the last part out loud, if Kongpob’s muffled gasp is anything to go by.
Arthit waits, cheeks burning, for him to say something. But he doesn’t. There are just a few choked sounds from across the space.
Eventually, it’s too much for Arthit, so he leaps to his feet, hoping to wear off some of the extra adrenaline, marching up and down the tiny space. “Well?” He says at last, looking near to the fading torchlight, “Don’t you have something to say? You always have something to say!”
He’s not certain what he expects, but not Kongpob’s softly spoken, “Are you still drunk, P’Arthit?” in a strangled sort of voice.
He stops walking and leans against the wall, the cool metal bleeding through the back of his shirt, “No, I guess I’m not,” Arthit admits in a small voice and slumps down to the floor again. “But I didn’t mean to say that either…”
There’s some shuffling and then Kong’s firm shoulder is back, pressed warmly against his.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Phi,” He whispers into the space between them.
“What? I’m not ashamed, Kongpob..” Arthit can’t help the tiny bite of sarcasm in his tone.
“Fine, sorry Phi! I didn’t..”
“I’m frustrated, Kongpob!” Arthit interrupts, “I mean, why doesn’t anyone want to kiss me? Am I not kissable?!”
“You’re definitely drunk aren’t you phi?” Kongpob’s voice has an edge of regret and Arthit wonders what he’s thinking about.
“I’m not drunk Kongpob! What do you want me to do to prove it?”
“Kiss me?”
“WHAT?”
“Nothing.. nothing!” Kongpob starts to inch away, but Arthit sticks a hand out and grabs his arm.
“And how exactly would that prove that I’m not drunk, Nong Kong?” Arthit’s voice sounds dangerous even to himself, exactly like the head hazer that he is.
“Just..” and Arthit has to give the younger guy credit for continuing (as well as being a bit hopeful about what he might say next).
(When he’d been P’Tum’s junior he would never have spoken to any hazer or any senior so informally, even if they were trapped in a broken elevator together.)
“I thought.. well you hate me, right? So, if you kissed me you are probably compromised.. still drunk, right? Plus, you just told me something really personal so.. ”
Arthit scoffs loudly, turning to where he knows Kongpob is, squeezing his hand more tightly on Kong’s wrist, “So, if I’m drunk I’ll kiss you? And if I’m not, then, what, I’ll yell at you and make you do sit ups?”
Kongpob hums loudly and Arthit pushes his luck, continuing, “So, which of those would you prefer? You want me to be sober or.. would you like it if I was drunk, if I acted on my drunkenness and your suggestion? If I kissed you?”
There’s a gulping noise and then warm fingers cover his own, they’re shaking slightly and Arthit has the passing thought again that Kongpob, for a junior, is really incredibly brave. “I would like..” Kongpob begins and Arthit sucks in a lungful of stale elevator air tinged with Kongpob’s scent, and holds his breath, “I would like.. the former actually.”
Arthit lets his breath out quickly all in one giant whoosh! He feels light headed and like his skin is too big to hold all his insides together. There’s warmth in his belly and the fingers of his hand holding Kongpob’s wrist are tingling merrily.
But he has to check.
“Pity kiss?” He asks quietly.
Kongpob’s free hand reaches out and uncurls Arthit’s from around his wrist. Then it tugs and long, cool fingers are slotted between his own slightly shorter, warmer ones. (Okay, sweaty! Arthit’s nervous, so yes, he’s sweating!)
“Not a pity kiss! Never, Phi. I thought you might have figured it out by now.”
It’s still dark, so of course Arthit can’t really see what Kongpob’s face is doing, but his voice sounds like it’s full of longing and.. naked desire. But that can’t be? Isn’t Arthit the one who wants Kongpob? Not the other way round.
“Figured out what?” He asks stupidly, tightening his grip on Kongpob’s hand, enjoying the feeling of its warmth and weight in his own.
Kongpob exhales noisily, then he pulls his hand out of Arthit’s, leaving him feeling cold and alone. But it’s not for long, because a second later his whole arm is slung around Arthit’s shoulders and Kong’s fingers are gripping his bicep and they’re not shaking at all - they’re firm and sure just like him.
“You figured out that all my outbursts in hazing are just a way of trying to get your attention, P’Arthit. And.. that I like you. You know, like like you. As in, I want to know what it’s like to kiss you?”
He doesn’t sound embarrassed at all and Arthit wonders at how easily he can say that he likes him and wants to kiss him like that. Then, as he lets himself relax a little into Kongpob’s hold, he starts to flick through all his interactions with Kongpob, and wonders if he might have overreacted at times with him for a reason that is different to the ‘annoying junior’ one he keeps using. Maybe it was all about keeping his attention.. or maybe some kind of terrible foreplay?
Making a decision, Arthit tilts his head towards Kongpob and says firmly, “Kongpob, I’m still drunk and therefore I am going to do something completely out of character and kiss you. Okay?”
The soft laughter is sweet and friendly and not a judgement about him, instead, it feels carefree, and inclusive, and he finds himself giggling along too.. until Kongpob’s hand tightens on his shoulder and his free hand lifts and settles on his cheek, “Will you remember this tomorrow, Phi?”
Arthit smiles and whispers, “I will. I’m only a bit..”
But his words are cut off as firm lips touch his own, pressing lightly at first and then with more force.
Arthit finds himself responding, lifting his hand to cup Kong’s smooth chin and to capture his junior’s lower lip between his own, like he’s seen in films. He’s just getting into it, when Kongpob pulls back, and in the low light Arthit can see his junior’s spit slicked lips and cannot deny that he looks really freaking attractive.
“Phi Arthit?” Kongpob asks, holding his face and looking into his eyes, “May I ask, is this the only time you plan to be drunk around me?”
Arthit scrunches up his nose, wanting nothing more than to go back to the kissing, he was enjoying the kissing. Then he catches Kongpob’s meaning and he smiles at him, “No, Kongpob, I think I might be drunk around you a lot. Like, every weekend, maybe?”
“Oh good, I thought it was just me!” Then Kongpob reaches out and pulls him close and Arthit is introduced to the fine art of tongue kissing too!
When the lift begins to moan and groan louder than Kongpob and Arthit, they drag themselves apart and Arthit just has time to run a hand through his hair and over his swollen mouth before the lights come on.
Kongpob just stares at him, eyes widening as they travel across his face, lingering on his lips for a long time. Then he steps closer and tilts Arthit’s chin up as the lift shudders and starts to rise.
They’re still looking at each other when the doors open on Arthit’s floor.
“Are you drunk, Kongpob?” Arthit asks, feeling brave as he steps backwards, Kongpob’s hand chasing after him to stay on his chin, and then his whole body following too.
He looks utterly transfixed as he stares at Arthit, then he steps out of the lift into Arthit’s space and whispers, “Yes Phi, I definitely believe I am. I have all these urges that I might need some help with. So, Phi? Can you look after me?”
They end up in Arthit’s room, discovering a little more about each other and Arthit forgets about his anxiety and forgets about Namtarn and just enjoys being with Kongpob.
And the next day he calls Namtarn and begs off, and then texts Kongpob instead: Are you drunk, Nong?
The reply takes milliseconds: I am so drunk, Phi. Be there in five.
And even though it’s the middle of the afternoon, Kongpob manages to distract Arthit from his homework and from planning his hazing sessions, and teaches him a little more about kissing and a little more about how much fun it can be to work out your frustrations. Especially with someone that you like.
The End.