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“Good afternoon, Khun Kim, Khun Porchay,” said Arm, sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’ll be your chauffeur for this trip.”
He was met with twin scowls of disapproval.
Already in sync, then. All according to plan.
“It’s genius, Arm,” Tankhun had crowed the previous night. “Of course, my plans are always genius, but this one is my masterpiece."
Arm nodded. “Indeed, Khun Nu.”
“When they’re cooped up together in that tiny little limousine for two whole days, of course they’ll get back together and stop polluting the compound with their terrible lovesick vibes. Hmph!” He sniffed disdainfully.
Arm glanced back at the file in his hand. “These mishaps - they’ve already been arranged?”
Tankhun scoffed. “Of course! You just need to make sure they’re always suffering together. To reforge their bond through adversity! Like in the dramas!”
Arm bowed. “Leave it to me.”
An hour into the journey to the (fabricated) fashion show Tankhun had insisted Kim and Chay attend on his behalf, the first planned pitfall arose: a deflated tire that left them stranded on the roadside.
According to step 3 (of 167 total) in the briefing document Tankhun had prepared for Arm, Kim would now strip off his shirt, effortlessly change the tire, aweing Chay with his rippling muscles-
“Arm, why are you just standing there?” Kim demanded. “Are you expecting either of us to change the tire?”
Well. Not quite according to plan, then.
Sighing, Arm stripped off his shirt and got to work, completely failing to notice the twin looks of interest directed at his rippling muscles.
Chay poked his head out the window. “Yes, I’d love to buy some wreaths!” he chirped to the flower-seller Arm had pulled up alongside.
Arm felt a surge of relief as Chay turned back inside and draped the wreath over Kim’s head. Step 32 - success!
“Oh!” Chay stuck his head back out. “And one for P’Arm too!”
Well, thought Arm, firmly ignoring the gentle flutter in his chest, half a success, at least.
It had been a long day of unsuccessful misadventures, but Arm was confident their last stop would finally tip the balance. Rearranging his features into an apologetic expression, he turned, dangling a singular room key from one finger.
“I’m afraid they only have one room left - worse, it only has one bed. Of course, I’ll sleep in the limousine-” he broke off, taken aback by the twin looks of satisfaction being directed his way.
“I don’t think there’s any need for that,” Kim hummed, slipping an arm around his shoulders.
“P’Arm, you wouldn’t really sleep out in the cold car when you could stay warm in here with us instead, would you?” asked Chay, peering up at him, eyes huge and pleading.
Ruefully, Arm gave in to the realisation that he was the one who’d been played.
As Chay pushed him up against the bedroom door barely seconds after slamming it shut, and Kim sank to his knees, he somehow couldn’t summon a single drop of regret.