Chapter Text
Arthit strolled back to his room after his rounds outside the first years’ rooms at a painfully slow pace. To be honest it felt more like he was dragging himself. He wasn't drunk - no. It was more due to a certain item in his pocket that had suddenly decided to weigh a ton on his heart instead. His brain was in jumbles and his heart, well his heart was as confused as can be.
This was most certainly not the confession he had envisioned from a junior. Before the year had started, the gang used to say in jest about how it would be like if one of the juniors had fallen in love with their 'manly hazing style' and took to confessing to one of them. Arthit had always treated those sessions as mere jokes and never thought more of them.
Until today.
While he knew he wasn't bad looking, he didn't think he'd be the first once amongst them to receive a confession. No, he'd thought it would be Knott, their gentle giant. A charismatic, warm figure that the female juniors would not be able to resist.
He guessed, maybe that was where he went wrong since he most definitely did not anticipate a declaration of love from a male junior. Who was the campus moon and also the biggest pain in the butt these past months. Who knew his little prank on Kongpob earlier in the year would now come whipping him in the ass? Arthit scoffed to himself, shaking his head at the irony of those thoughts.
Finally reaching his room, he plonked himself onto his bed as he fished out the gear that had been laying hidden in his pocket this whole time. Dangling it above himself, he stared at it as he recalled what P'Dear had said about it.
The gear represents our hearts so if you gift your gear to someone, you are giving them your heart.
Arthit quietly wondered if his junior had simply decided to play a prank on him. But a nagging thought in the back of his mind told him that he knew better, and that Kongpob was not one to do such a thing. Kongpob was always serious - too serious, even when throwing the flirtatious lines that frequently caught him off guard.
He sighed as he hung the gear upon the night light above his bed, fearing it might get lost in his tendencies to flail around in his sleep. The gear's silhouette now cast upon the wall in front of him and he stared at it, sighing again as he put an arm over his head and tried to sleep. It had been a long day and he was tired. And now a single sentence from Kongpob had just sent his brain once again running 54 laps internally as it ran around furiously trying to figure things out.
I want you to take care of it.
“Argh,” Arthit groaned as he flipped to his side, thrashing at the innocent pillow. His own reaction to Kongpob’s indirect admission of his affections had surprised him. He felt nothing for the boy, he could simply return the gear to him tomorrow. And he really wanted to. But there was that same nagging voice that told him that he shouldn’t - that he couldn’t.
So why couldn’t he?
This boy had challenged him all throughout SOTUS and even today, he had gone up against him once again. He’d also scared the crap out of him by disappearing into the sea. Arthit had never wanted to punch his junior so much for his stupidity since their first confrontation in the hazing hall. So why would he want to hold onto his gear still?
Arthit shook his head. No no. He didn’t want it. He did not feel the same for the younger boy so it was not right to keep it. Right. Yes. The right thing to do now was to return the gear to him. That was what he would do tomorrow. The problem now was how. How was he going to return the gear to Kongpob, without hurting him?
Sure, the boy was a pain but he did not deserve to have his heart broken either. How was he supposed to let Kongpob gently, without inflicting pain upon him? Arthit groaned again, stifling it by stuffing his face into the pillow. SOTUS was over and this annoying junior of his was still giving him grief.
He would just have to find an appropriate time to give the gear back to him. But there was still Saturday that he would have to help Kongpob with whatever it was he needed help with. Maybe he should do it then, when they were alone. Yes. That sounded like a better idea. Doing it while they were alone.
But what if, what if this was all a misunderstanding on his part? And Kongpob didn't see him that way? Arthit felt a small prick of pain on his heart as he rubbed his chest begrudgingly. What if he had thought this up all on his own?
Arthit hated feeling like this. Kongpob wasn't like that - he knew this, well. Because even though he constantly had cheesy lines and snarky remarks, Kongpob's eyes were sincere and earnest when he had given him his gear. His eyes sparkled with a small joy Arthit had never seen before when he had told him to ask P'Dear about the other meaning of their gear.
Kongpob had also been the one to approach him to make amends. That meant something right? That Arthit meant something to him. Arthit suddenly found himself conflicted, unsure of what he wanted to feel, or what he wanted the junior to feel for him for that matter.
Why was this so difficult?
Arthit closed his eyes and let his brain drift, the gear still dangling from the nightlight above his head like a dreamcatcher. And that night, Arthit dreamt.
Kongpob cheekily linked their fingers together as he pulled Arthit along the beach. He didn't retract his hand from the warm grasp and instead, tightened his hold and let himself be dragged along. The boy looked ethereal in the sunset, his handsome smile looking back at him took his breath away.
They walked for quite a distance, neither saying a thing. But it all felt comfortable and most of all, it felt right. The sea breeze had tousled Kongpob’s hair and it somehow made him look all the more handsome. Arthit mentally cursed. This boy had everything and was a prince in every aspect. So why was he here holding his hand?
Kongpob stepped further in front of him only to spin around to face Arthit. Grabbing the latter’s other hand, he held both tightly while walking backwards, a little awestruck by the beautiful man in front of him. He grinned lopsidedly as Arthit made a little ‘tsk’ and ducked his head a little, trying to hide his face from sight. When Arthit looked down, he noticed a little glint on his wrist. There it sat, the small bronze gear that didn't belong to him but yet felt more like his than anything else in the world.
When he looked back up, the brightest twinkling eyes were staring back at him. Kongpob had stopped walking and took one step closer. He could almost feel his breath fanning his face. Arthit knew he was probably blushing redder than the sunset around them right now and yet, he couldn’t hide away - or rather, he didn’t want to. He wanted to know what those lips tasted like. So when Kongpob leaned in, he did too. With less than a centimetre between them, Arthit could almost smell the light tinge of coffee that drifted towards him. They pressed closer towards each other, and just when their lips were about to meet..
“Arthit!” Knott’s voice drifted through the hotel room door. “Arthit! I know you hit the snooze on your alarm! You need to get up! We’re leaving in an hour.”
Arthit grumbled, groggily sitting up. "Damn it," he mumbled to himself, scratching his head. Had he really just dreamt about Kongpob? Looking back at the gear that sat innocently on the light, he groaned as he remembered his anticipation of being kissed.
"This is all your fault," he griped as he plucked it from its spot and stuffed it into his pocket, determined to return it to its owner before it brought him any more dreams to confuse him.