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Arthit grits his teeth and tries not to watch as yet another girl approaches Kongpob and presses a shiny sticker to his shirt. His fist clenches and the sheet of stickers in his own hand crumples and creases and he feels one of the tacky hearts peel off and stick to his finger.
He’s been watching for almost an hour, barely acknowledging the girls who keep approaching him in favour of watching Kongpob being polite to his own ring of fans. The man is almost surrounded now, only the tuft of his hair visible above the crowd. Arthit’s protective instincts kick in and he wonders how Kongpob would react if he marched over and yanked him out by the arm.
Not that he’s going to. He wouldn’t ever be brave enough to do that, but he wishes he could.
His relationship with his junior had been fiery during hazing, but now he was starting to relax around him and accept that a lot of his feelings of frustration and disappointment had come from his burgeoning feelings for Kongpob. Accepting it had been hard, understanding why he wasn’t interested in Namtarn in the way he had imagined, realising that he could be (and was) attracted to another man. He’d fought with his feelings for a long time and had probably missed his chance to confess to his junior with the way the other first years hovered around him.
There were rumors he was dating Praepaillin, the campus Star and Arthit could understand why. They looked so good together, much better than he and Arthit ever would.
But for some reason, Arthit still harboured the idea that Kongpob was interested in him.
It was little things, the way Kongpob had fought for his attention during hazing, the way he still cornered Arthit to ask him school related questions, the way he would take every opportunity to brush his hand over Arthit’s. All these little things had Arthit wondering.
And sometimes, the way he stared at Arthit across the canteen, how Kong’s eyes would lock on to his and not move away, travelling up and across his body, blazing a trail of heat that made Arthit blush.
The little things. They made him wonder.
He spends the rest of the day with a knot in his chest that will not ease no matter how hard he tries to release it. He hasn’t been able to enjoy any part of the day really, in fact he’s thinking about sneaking away early and heading for the pink milk stall, when Bright and Prem gather him in for a quick catch-up about the report that they’re collaborating on over the next few days.
“Wow, Arthit! You were so popular today!” Bright says, flicking a finger at Arthit’s engineering shirt and making the metallic hearts glitter, “What does it feel like to be the second most popular guy on campus after Nong Kongpob?”
Prem muffles a grin behind his hand and turns his laughter into a cough. Arthit gives him a stern glare.
“Whatever, they’re just stickers. Here take some?” He begins to peel off the shimmery red shapes and gets as far as sticking three onto Bright’s jacket, when a throat is cleared behind him and he spins around to find Kongpob standing there, chest covered in stickers, white shirt only peeking out between a sea of red, metallic hearts.
“Do you plan to break the heart of all the girls who gave you those, P’Arthit?” He asks, eyes wandering cheekily around Arthit’s torso.
For a moment, Arthit’s natural instinct is to cross his arms over his chest and keep it from prying eyes. But then, from the way Kongpob’s eyebrow lifts, he thinks perhaps the other man has a thing for the curled muscles of his forearms, so he unfolds them and lets them hang loosely at his sides.
“Nong Kongpob,” he forces out through his dry throat. “What do you mean?”
Kongpob gives him a grin that almost makes Arthit’s knees buckle, “I mean, that you’re removing their Valentine’s Day wishes if you peel them off like that. I don’t think they’d like to think you have such little care for their gifts.”
Kongpob looks so earnest that Arthit finds himself reaching out and grabbing the stickers back from Bright, plastering them back onto his shirt which is three-deep in them. Looking at Kongpob’s, he realises that his junior must have almost five layers, the hearts overlapping in a splatter pattern over his heart.
“I didn’t think.. I mean.. Really?” Arthit finds himself stuttering, not an unusual experience when his junior is around. Behind him, Bright (who is oblivious to the conflict in Arthit’s heart) and Prem (who Arthit is convinced knows everything he thinks, feels and does) both start laughing at him and he quickly whirls and gives them a fierce glare that has them turning on their heels and vanishing, leaving Arthit to face his junior alone.
“Oh Phi,” Kongpob looks a little distraught, “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I was just meaning that those girls took the time to prepare the stickers for you, for us, and maybe we should at least wait until we’re off campus to remove them so we don’t hurt their feelings.”
Arthit finds himself nodding and mutters, “Yes, you’re right as always.” And then turning to follow his friends.
But a firm hand grips his arm and spins him back, Kongpob’s worried eyes meeting his own, “Sorry Phi, seriously. I didn’t want to…”
Arthit tries to pull away. Not because he doesn't want to be near his junior, but because he does. He can feel himself starting to blush and he knows that he won’t be able to control his reaction for much longer. “It‘s fine Kong.” He insists and tries to leave again.
But Kongpob says, “Please.” In a devastating voice and Arthit can’t move a step. Then Kongpob holds out a hand and in it there is a heart sticker. “P’Arthit. Please will you accept my Valentine’s Day wishes?”
He looks so earnest that Arthit can’t help but nod fiercely. And then Kongpob’s fingers are deftly smoothing out the collar of his shirt and he’s so close that Arthit can smell the cologne he wears and see the tiny hairs on his chin and feel his breath on his neck.
It’s like all his senses explode at once and Arthit wobbles on his feet. Kongpob’s hand reaches for his forearm to steady him and their skin is touching and to Arthit it feels like time stops.
His junior lifts his eyes to meet Arthit’s, his voice is shaking when he speaks, “I’ll just put this here, then, P’Arthit. If that’s okay?”
Arthit nods infinitesimally and Kongpob presses his fingers against his collar and then takes a step back. “There, all done, Phi. Happy Valentine’s.”
He gives Arthit one last rueful grin and then twists on the spot to leave.
Before Arthit knows what he’s doing his hand has shot out and grabbed Kongpob’s shoulder to spin him back round. “No. Don’t go.. I..”
He fumbles in his bag, trying to find the hearts that Tootah had pressed on him earlier, but they’ve vanished. Instead, he finds a handful of markers and pulls one out, inspiration hitting him.
“Nong Kongpob? I don’t have any hearts and your shirt is kind of busy already. May I?” And then he motions to Kongpob’s hand, and his junior lifts it and Arthit cradles it in his own, gently.
He takes a moment to look up at Kongpob’s face and sees nothing but sparkling eyes and a sweet smile and happiness beaming out at him. His chest eases and Arthit feels like, at last, he’s doing the right thing.
“I’ll just..” he bends down to Kong’s hand and starts to scribble. And when he’s finished he watches as Kongpob’s eyes widen and an expression of awe takes over his face as he stares at his palm.
“Well?” Arthit asks and Kongpob’s smile widens too and he nods firmly and holds out his hand and laces their fingers together.
“Pink milk?” He asks quietly and Arthit nods and leads Kongpob away, their shining shirts flapping in the wind.