Chapter Text
1. Green
The thing is, Sarawat doesn’t even know this guy.
This guy — this guy that just asked Sarawat to be his boyfriend. Fake boyfriend, he corrects, because. There’s some other guy called Green, and apparently he’d been bugging Tine to go out with him, and this Tine doesn’t want to, so Tine asks Sarawat to pretend to be his boyfriend, so Green gets it.
…A perfectly logical plan.
Initially, Sarawat doesn’t know if Tine is stupid or… Well. Just weird. Because how about he just says, “No, Green, I don’t want to go out with you.” And get on with life? It’s not hard, right?
Except, Sarawat knows, it can be pretty hard. Case in point: no matter how many girls he turns down, and hand-written heart-scribbled notes he crushes, his, uh, fan club, doesn’t get it. He’s still pestered day after day on his way to class, at football practice, and after music club with a throng of people following him around and offering him their undying love. So, he knows… it is pretty hard.
Maybe Sarawat felt a little bad seeing green forcefully shove another spoon of pad thai into Tine’s mouth, despite Tine looking like he was gonna be sick. Or when green grabbed Tine’s wrist away from the music club’s booth with more strength than Sarawat approves — and Tine just looked on helplessly, but let himself get dragged away.
Sarawat thinks Tine is not only stupid but also despicably helpless. That guy must have zero survival instinct because so far the only thing he does is fluff out his cheeks in a pout and look around like a caged rabbit. He’s 6 feet tall and can’t even act like it.
So he has to step in; and naturally, he agrees to the proposition.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Man points out when he explains the situation, and Boss nods in agreement. “What do you even get out of this?”
First of all, Sarawat hopes to get a message across to his fan club. It goes like this: I’M GAY.
Secondly, if Tine is as stupid as he seems, Sarawat could probably wedge something in for him. Like, make Tine carry his guitar or drive him to the mall. He knows he’s sounding a bit like a bully but it’s more like. A pact. Sarawat is doing Tine a huge favour, after all.
Last, and perhaps, most importantly, Tine is… Well. He’s sometimes cute and very fun to mess with.
So… The Plan makes a lot of sense to him, actually, but Sarawat doesn’t need to explain himself to anyone. Including his friends; especially his friends. Man and Boss are barely coherent half the time they spend awake anyways. Who are they to question his choices?!
Besides. Just because Sarawat was going to say ‘yes’, doesn’t mean he has to do it easy. Tine’s been a nuisance the past week — breaking his phone and locking him in the closet whatnot — so Sarawat will take his time, and get him back.
Sarawat is not an asshole by any means, but he’s not beyond having some fun himself. Besides, this was Tine’s idea, so, Sarawat is merely playing along.
Perfecto.
2. Americano
Tine is sleepy and hungry — a horrendous combination of things to be for the record — when he gets the message.
From: Sarawat (music club )
Mete me at engn cafet asap
Tine squints. What?
So. Tine had asked Sarawat from the music club to be his fake boyfriend. Okay, ask may be underselling the story, slightly. Tine had tried to steal his phone, accidentally broke it, then locked him in the closet and threatened to leave him there to starve and/or get eaten by the ghosts that haunt the campus if he didn’t agree to be his fake boyfriend.
Tine isn’t an asshole. He’s just desperate, okay. And sometimes he panics and his brain just goes whoop and there. He did something. He doesn’t want to be accountable for those things, but, alas.
The guy in question Sarawat from the music club is stone-faced and a little weird based on Tine’s preliminary analysis. Ohm said Sarawat is the campus’ hotshot; and Tine can’t argue with that objectively because there’s a huge Facebook group with over 800 followers that call themselves #TeamSarawatWives. Evidently, this guy has 800 people wanting to be his wife.
Great.
Well, Tine can be the 801st person, plus, he just wants to be a fake wife. So, shamelessly, Tine makes the offer.
And here comes the problem — Sarawat says no. But he gets Tine’s number, and he texts Tine badly-spelt messages sometimes. Like, ‘i wnat an amerciano. ice.” And Tine replies, “sounds nice. get one!” And Sarawat says, “u get.” And Tine wants to rip his hair out because he doesn’t remember agreeing to be Sarawat’s errand boy?
But Sarawat always shares his americano with Tine and any time they spend together may help his plan to tell green his off-limits. Duh. So Tine keeps getting it. And hopes Sarawat will eventually agree.
(“It doesn’t even make any sense,” Fong had said, on the third day, when they’re both waiting for Sarawat’s coffee order to be served at the campus’ fanciest cafe. “If he doesn’t want to, why’s he still keeping in contact with you?”
Tine has no idea. At all. He hardly does really.
“Maybe it’s a test,” he blathered anyway, like he knew. “Like, if I would make a good fake boyfriend.”
“Of course you would,” Fong automatically replied kindly. “You always make a great boyfriend.”
“Thanks,” Tine grinned happily at the praise, stealing a sip of Sarawat’s drink now in his hand. Sarawat wouldn’t know. “If buying some coffees will get Green off my back, it’s quite worth it,” he reasoned.
“I guess,” Fong agreed, though he hadn’t sounded convinced. “Well, I hope your plan works. Otherwise, you should get him to pay you for all these coffees.”
“Yeah,” Tine just nodded absently, “they’re expensive.”)
Well, as of the present moment, Sarawat wasn’t demanding any iced americano, just… Tine. At the engineering cafeteria, if Tine had deciphered the message right. He sighs a bit, because he’d been craving the tom yam goong from the arts cafeteria, and had planned to head to the library right after to knock out for a good half hour, but. Tine’s good like that, always great at giving in to other people.
The engineering faculty has pretty good food anyways.
“Coming,” he texts back and sets off right away.
3. Quiz
Sarawat all but shoves the laptop in Tine’s arms. “There’s a quiz,” he says, “can you do it for me.”
Tine looks at him, back at the computer, then back at him.
“Absolutely not.”
“Tine. Come on. I heard you scored top of your class last year. Smartypants.”
Tine doesn’t know to feel proud or embarrassed. Sarawat says it so teasingly yet — Sarawat looks at him gently, like he’s proud. Tine huffs indignantly anyway. “I study law,” he states, like they both hadn’t known that already. “I don’t know anything about politics. Or science,” he frowns.
Sarawat chuckles. “I’m going to take a nap. Just try it, na?”
“No!” Tine argues. When he sees Sarawat pull his backpack closer to him on the table to use as a pillow, and then curls his arms and rests his head in between, Tine gasps.
“No!” He repeats, “ Saraleo. I can’t do your quiz. I will fail it.” He shakes his arm helplessly.
Sarawat doesn’t budge. He couldn’t have fallen asleep so fast… Could he?
“Sarawat,” Tine half-whispers, just in case Sarawat did fall asleep.
“Nuisance, just do whatever,” Sarawat’s voice is muffled from the cocoon he has curled himself in, “I don’t care if you fail. Not important. I just don’t feel like doing it.”
“Right,” Tine is still frowning. “But.”
“If you just click the submit button,” Sarawat continues. “I’ll consider your offer.”
“Wait. Really?” Tine perks up. Maybe he could. Well, he just gotta google everything on his laptop and paraphrase it on Sarawat’s quiz. It can’t be hard, right.
“Yeah. Now shhhh,” Sarawat grumbles. “Sleep.”
Whatever, Tine thinks. Sarawat obviously doesn’t care, so why should Tine? If he really failed the quiz, it will only serve him right. Not just for outrightly refusing to do it — which is his academic responsibility, just to set the record straight — but also for forcing a poor unassuming law student to take it for him. Yeah, he deserves a ‘B+’ grade, or even worse, a ‘ B’ , Tine thinks sulkily.
Well. He tries his best, anyway.
4. Constitution
Tine’s best gets Sarawat a 10 out of 15.
“Uh,” Tine pouts. “it’s not too bad, right?”
He braces himself to get yelled at by Sarawat. He wouldn’t like a 10 out of 15 himself — but that’s just him. And even though Sarawat said Tine could do whatever, Tine bets he was secretly hoping Tine would get him a full mark because he heard that Tine was a top scorer last year. And Tine had gone and done it and got him a really, really mediocre mark.
Stupid, Tine bemoans to himself, you should’ve tried harder. Or just said no. Now after all that effort and coffee he bought, Sarawat’s still going to turn him down, and the plan will fall to ruins
But, “it’s great,” Sarawat says, and Tine is surprised he says it sincerely. “It’s better than anything I’ve done myself,” he adds sheepishly.
“Oh,” Tine’s pout melts, and he smiles that he didn’t disappoint Sarawat. Not that he really cares about what Sarawat from the music club thinks — but, Tine just has a thing for meeting expectations and having people be proud of him.
“Thanks, nuisance,” Sarawat smiles, and Tine thinks it’s nice, even if it’s rare. “Even though,” he adds, a teasing tone creeping into his voice, “you completely flunked the bonus question.”
Tine frowns, then, he barely remembers it. He was too tired by the end of the quiz — eyes flickering back and forth screen, stomach grumbling, bidding his nap time goodbye and whatnot. The quiz was about an hour-long; though it felt like two because it was thrust onto him so suddenly and oh did Tine mention he had never read a political science book in his entire life?!
He knows he shouldn’t, but his curiosity gets the better of him. He always needs to know what he got wrong. “What was it again?”
“Uh,” Sarawat recalls, “what’s an official way the constitution of Thailand can be amended?”
“Right,” Tine mumbles, vaguely remembering seeing that question. “I forgot what I wrote.”
Sarawat snorts. “Or, you wrote it while you were asleep.” He looks at Tine like he’s the most fascinating thing he’s seen in a while, and Tine kind of wants to shrivel up and die or sock him in his perfectly-sculpted face. Whichever.
“You wrote,” he slowly says, “‘ask nicely and politely.’”
Between the both of them, it is completely silent for a while.
Then, feeling a flush creep up his neck, Tine spins and walks away as fast as he can, his embarrassment washing over him like a tidal wave, all while hearing that asshole Sarawat laughing behind him like it’s the funniest joke he heard in his life.
Sleepy, hungry and saraleo is a bad, bad combination of things.
5. Discipline
Sarawat hears from Man who heard from Boss who heard from Pear that Tine is in the cheerleading club. Which is so Tine , he thinks, because what else would Tine do better than stand prettily under the sun?
‘He’s actually really smart and hardworking,’ some part of his brain reminds sternly, and Sarawat agrees. Well, Tine is actually smarter than he seemed, as annoying as he remembers, and really pretty on the field. All of these things can be true, he supposes. Not that he’s into pretty boys or anything.
Anyhow, Sarawat has football practice, and Tine has cheer practice.
Tine is also getting punished to hold his arms up because he came in late — and the poor thing has his face locked in a pained grimace while his seniors nag about punctuality and discipline and upholding the club’s standards.
Sarawat, being the asshole he is, stares Tine down till he catches his eye, and smirks tauntingly. Tine is such a troublemaker — and sue Sarawat if he finds some glee watching him get chewed up a bit. After all, Tine is no saint himself. That little shit steals sips that amount to half the cup of his coffee all the time thinking Sarawat doesn’t know and flips him the finger behind his back in music club.
And, well, in cheer club, now, too, apparently, he realises, seeing Tine glare at him, and carefully stick his middle finger out from where it was curled into a fist, eyes stealing a quick glance at his seniors that checking that their attention is elsewhere.
Sarawat smirks even harder. That nuisance is practically looking for trouble.
Before Sarawat can retaliate, Tine spots his senior Fang’s eye on him and quickly withdraws his finger, fists clenched as they ought to be, lifting his arms guiltily as they had definitely fallen from the ninety-degree angle they were in a minute ago.
“Tine,” Fang narrows her eyes, “are you not taking this punishment seriously?”
“No!” Tine defends, puppy-eyes and all. “I am reflecting on my tardiness,” he says obediently, and Fang nods. Even though she’s strict, she’s always been extra kind to Tine because she’d seen him when he was a baby. Like, a fourteen-year-old high schooler baby with thick-framed glasses and all.
Yeah. Tine used to be so uncool.
Well, this isn’t a good look for chic chic Tine anyway, he sighs, arms burning. His gaze burns the ground, trying to focus on anything to make the pain better, and too embarrassed to look at that guy who shall not be named again.
His arms tremble slightly at the ache; and Fang must notice, because she sighs too and tells him to put them down.
Tine doesn’t collapse but it’s a near thing — his legs are fine, but he just wants to be dramatic, because his arms actually feel like they’ll fall off any moment now, and he rubs at them miserably.
“Phi,” he whines a bit, “you’re mean.”
“And you were late,” Fang shrugs, used to Tine’s dramatics. “I already went easy on you. Next time you’re late I’ll make you run laps around the field.”
“No!” Tine wails. He’ll fry under the sun and Sarawat will laugh at him.
“Then be punctual,” Fang says, like it’s easy. “Come on,” she rubs the sweat off his face with a towel with more force than necessary, “drink up before you actually die.” She pushes a bottle of water towards him.
From afar, Sarawat’s gloating smirk gives way to an icy stare.
6. Sleep
There’s a football match, and Sarawat, being their star player and the team’s most prized possession, kicks ass. He scores the final points for the team, and it’s a victory against the architecture faculty’s team’s misery.
Naturally, the team wants to get some drinks to celebrate their win. Somehow, Tine ends up at L-Co-Hol, too, comforting a crying Fong, who just got broken up with.
“There, there,” Tine coos as Fong downs another beer, bemoaning his failed relationship. “You deserve someone way better, Fong.”
“Like who?!” Fong cries harder. “I am destined… To be UNLOVED!!”
Tine frowns, rubbing Fong’s back gently. Ohm offers a few consolatory pats himself.
“Come on, Fong,” Phuak tries now, “maybe you’ll find her here today.”
“..Really?” Fong looks at them sadly, then looks around the bar. Indeed, there are plenty of pretty girls and boys around them.
“Not if you keep up with your ugly crying,” Ohm hushes, and refills his mug. “Cheers to Fong’s heartbreak!!” He adds, quite tipsy, and Tine grimaces.
Oh boy.
Well, Fong’s loud crying must have made a scene — because before Tine could process the situation he’s pushed down into a seat next to. Uh, Sarawat? And his two friends Man and Boss who are evidently better than the musketeers at comforting Fong, because they’ve managed to get him in a happier dancier mood and he promptly gets whisked away to hit on new girls on the dance floor.
Oh well.
Tine wasn’t exactly planning on drinking too much that night, but they were bottoming up to everything, from the football team’s victory to Boss’ recent attempt to confess to Pear that he gloriously fucked up, and Tine was getting drowsy fast.
“Oi, saraleo,” Tine dazedly scolds when he sees the guy staring at him with an odd expression, “whatchu staring at?”
“You,” Sarawat answers, unfazed. “And your boobs.”
Tine gasps, scandalised, and covers his chest instinctively. “Pervert!” He accuses, and Sarawat’s smile only grows bigger. He wasn’t looking at Tine crazy, though, like those lust-crazy monsters he watches on tv all the time. In fact, Sarawat was looking at him quite tenderly, making him feel all jelly and strange inside.
“Maybe,” Sarawat just shrugs, and takes a sip from his mug. How come Sarawat is still so sober after all those drinks?
“Because,” Sarawat answers, “unlike you, I hold my liquor well.”
“Hah?”
“You’re even more of a nuisance when you drink, Tine,” Sarawat says.
“I’m not a nuisance,” Tine pouts, and rests his face in his palms, “saraleo.”
“Tine,” Sarawat softly calls, seeing the boy’s eyes start fluttering shut. “Don’t fall asleep here. I don’t want to carry you home.”
“Mhm,” Tine just mumbles. “I can carry myself home.”
“While you’re asleep?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay,” Sarawat sighs, and Tine giggles happily. He is so out of it.
Tine passes out on the table promptly in the next five minutes, and the rest of their friends are nowhere in sight. Vaguely, Sarawat thinks he sees Boss trying to talk up some girl from the faculty of science, and Ohm is — oh, Ohm is twerking on the dance floor. Nice.
Sarawat pinches Tine’s cheek to annoy him, but the boy does not stir. At all. He snores softly far away in dreamland, and it’s just them left at the table. Sarawat is bored and frankly quite tired already.
As he contemplates his options to leave (both with and without the sleeping buffalo in toll), Sarawat hears someone call him from the table across.
“Wat! Over here!”
It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes — of course, he had to be spotted just when he was planning his escape route. Out of courtesy, anyway, he goes over. It’s Marc and the rest of the swim team.
“Hey,” he greets awkwardly.
“I heard you scored a win tonight. Congrats, man!” Marc practically yells.
Before Sarawat can thank him, Marc motions for him to come closer.
“That boy you got there,” he asks, gaze landing on Tine, and Sarawat stiffens. “You know him?”
“Uh,” Sarawat scratches his eyebrow. “Yeah. Tine’s from the cheerleading team.”
“Right,” Marc laughs, and Sarawat wants to ask what’s so funny. “I heard about him. Goes around calling himself Mr. Chic,” he says too sharply to mean well. It rubs Sarawat weirdly, but he doesn’t say anything.
“He was a total nerd in high school, by the way,” one of Marc’s friends add, pursing her lips. “But he’s pretty cute now.”
The table erupts in a drunk chorus of oohs and ahhs and Sarawat feels himself starting to fume.
“Smash?!” one of them asks the whole group, and Sarawat only hears ringing in his ears. He never really had a thing against the swim team, despite their reputation, but hearing them talk about Tine like that makes him want to skin each and every one of these horny bastards.
Thankfully, before he does anything rash, Man stumbles up to him, greeting the table enthusiastically. Sarawat makes use of the distraction to get back to Tine, still knocked out on the table, and for a fleeting moment, Sarawat nearly panics it wasn’t safe leaving him there sleeping unattended. What if anyone had tried anything with him?!
“Nuisance,” Sarawat forcefully lifts the boy’s head up, “we gotta go. Come on. I’ll bring you home.”
“Hfffmmh?” Tine looks at him like he’s an alien. Sarawat wants to laugh at him and cry at how disoriented he looks having been woken so abruptly.
“Come on, up, up, let’s go,” he repeats, and manoeuvres Tine out of the seat. He figures he’ll let his friends settle the rest and they’ll split the bill tomorrow — when they’re out of this dingy place and with Tine away from those assholes.
“You. Seriously,” Sarawat complains, when Tine hangs onto him uselessly while they wait for their ride back to the dorms. “Do you know anything about taking care of yourself?”
Sarawat doesn’t know why he’s upset; but he is. And it’s not Tine’s fault people look at him weird or talk about him badly, he’s just. He’s just his silly and sometimes obnoxious self. Sarawat knows by now Tine means no harm beneath all that big boy act of confidence and chic; but other people don’t. And it’s going to get Tine into trouble, weird enough it hasn’t already.
“I don’t have to…” Tine slurs absently. “you can.”
“I can what?” Sarawat huffs.
“Take care of me.” Tine answers like Sarawat’s stupid.
Sarawat is speechless, and isn’t sure there is any point in continuing this conversation with a drunk and almost completely useless Tine.
“Saraleo,” Tine pokes his side when Sarawat doesn’t respond.
“Stop that,” Sarawat grumbles, but it just further eggs Tine on.
“Be my boyyyyfriend,” Tine says, and Sarawat glares. This boy really has some nerve. Tine stops poking him and instead reaches to grab his waist, effectively pulling him into a big side-hug. Sarawat groans and hits Tine’s fidgety hands away, but with no real force.
“Stop that,” he scolds, “stand properly or you’ll fall.”
Tine listens immediately, but the jut of his bottom lip doesn’t go unnoticed. Cute.
“Okay,” Sarawat agrees. “I’ll pretend to be your boyfriend, nuisance.”
Under the street lamps, Sarawat can see Tine’s face bathed in the warm light. He blinks owlishly, like he doesn’t quite understand what Sarawat has said.
Then, “ohhhh,” he says eloquently, breaking into a wide, delighted smile. “I hope I remember it tomorrow.”
Sarawat scoffs, “I doubt it. But I will.”