Work Text:
Sky stood there with his arms crossed, expression flat as always, staring at the little takeout bag Prapai had just shoved into his hands.
“Don’t skip meals,” Prapai said with that stupid grin of his, leaning casually against his car door like he had all the time in the world. “I know you’re going to say you’re not hungry, but I don’t trust you. Eat it.”
Sky rolled his eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “Do you have a hobby other than being annoying?”
“Making you smile,” Prapai shot back instantly, not even blinking. Then he winked, slid into his shiny car, and with one last wave, drove off into the night.
The engine faded down the street.
And that was when Sky’s mask cracked.
The bag in his hand suddenly felt like it was on fire. His ears were red, his heart thundering against his ribs like he had just run a marathon. He marched back to his dorm, face blank to anyone who might pass by, but the moment the door shut behind him—
“AAAAHHH!”
He threw himself onto his bed, burying his face into the pillow, kicking his legs like some high school kid. His cheeks hurt from smiling, but he couldn’t stop. That stupid, smug, infuriating man.
Why did he remember every little thing Sky said? Why did he know exactly when to show up, food in hand, smile too bright, voice too warm? Why did he look at him like Sky was the only person in the world who mattered?
Sky covered his face with both hands, groaning, half-laughing. “Idiot. He’s such an idiot. Why is he like this?!”
But no matter how many times he scolded himself, the truth was clear. The cold facade he showed outside was already crumbling in here, in the safety of his room. His heart wasn’t listening to reason anymore.
He had fallen—hard—for Prapai.
“…ugh, why is my heart beating like this?!”
He shoved the bag of food onto his desk and dropped onto the bed, covering his face with his hands. His cheeks were burning. He could still hear Prapai’s voice in his head — that lazy, teasing tone, that stupid wink before driving off.
“Making me smile? Who even says things like that… He’s so ridiculous. So full of himself. So… sweet.”
Sky peeked through his fingers and immediately buried his face into the pillow, muffling a scream. His whole body felt restless, too warm, like sparks were running under his skin.
“Why… why does he remember whether I ate or not? Why does he always know exactly when to show up? It’s like he’s watching me, waiting for me to slip. And then he swoops in like some… some hero.”
He kicked the blanket, groaning.
“I’m not supposed to be like this! I told myself I wouldn’t… I couldn’t fall again. But then he comes with that smile, those words, those stupid little gestures… and I can’t stop smiling like an idiot the second he leaves.”
His lips curled upward without his permission. He pressed the pillow harder against his face, trying to smother it, but it was no use. The blush wouldn’t fade.
“Damn it, Sky. You’re gone. You’ve already fallen for him.”
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling, heart still racing.
“…and the worst part? I don’t even hate it.”
Sky dropped the takeout bag onto his desk and stood there a second, arms crossed, trying to look unaffected. But his lips wouldn’t stop twitching upward. He sat down, tore the bag open, and the smell hit him.
“…damn it. It smells good.”
He picked up the chopsticks, muttering, “I’m not hungry,” even as he took a bite. The taste flooded his mouth—warm, comforting, perfect. His chest tightened.
“Why is it so tasty? Why does he have to know exactly what I like?”
He shoveled in another mouthful, cheeks puffed, and only realized too late that he was smiling. Smiling so wide it made his cheeks ache.
When he looked up, his eyes landed on the sketch pinned lazily to his wall—the stupid doodle Prapai had made, a ridiculous cartoon of a gust of wind. Sky groaned, covering his face with one hand.
“…he’s such a terrible artist. Honestly, how can someone be so bad?!”
But his hand slipped away, and he found himself staring at it anyway. His lips curled again, softer this time. A giggle slipped out before he could stop it.
“Stupid… I can’t believe I’m smiling at this.”
He lay back on his bed, half-finished food container resting on his stomach, eyes drifting back to that ugly little wind drawing. His chest felt warm, too warm.
“Prapai… can I love you?” His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling as if someone might hear. “…If I let myself… will you promise not to hurt me?”
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as Sky shut his eyes tight and clutched the pillow to his chest—smiling, blushing, and terrified all at once.
Sky tossed himself, face down into the pillow, muffling a giggle he didn’t mean to let out. He rolled over, legs kicking against the mattress, unable to contain the smile tugging at his lips.
“Idiot… why does he always do this to me?” he muttered, clutching the pillow tighter. Images of Prapai swam through his mind—the way he shoved food into his hands like Sky would starve without him, the way he always lingered just a little longer to make sure Sky was safe. And those eyes… those ridiculous, warm eyes that stared too deep, always paired with some cheesy flirt that made Sky’s heart stumble and skip before he could build his defenses.
Sky groaned into the pillow, but the groan melted into another soft laugh. “I hate him… I really, really… don’t hate him at all.”
As if on cue, his phone buzzed. Sky rolled over and grabbed it, thumb swiping across the screen.
Prapai: Goodnight, my Sky. Sweet dreams, okay? Don’t stay up too late.
Sky’s smile bloomed instantly, unstoppable. He typed before he could think too hard:
Sky: Goodnight, P’Prapai. Sleep well.
The reply came in less than a second.
Prapai: !!!! Did Sky really just send me something this sweet???
Sky laughed out loud, covering his face with his free hand, cheeks burning. The next message came fast:
Prapai: Wait. I can’t sleep now. Can I come over?
Sky bit his lip, heart pounding so loudly he swore it echoed in the room. He stared at the text, the warmth bubbling in his chest spilling over. His fingers moved on their own.
Sky: …Come.
Not even thirty minutes later, there was a knock—no, practically a bang—on his door. Before Sky could stand up fully, the door swung open, and there was Prapai, grinning ear to ear, rushing inside without hesitation.
“Sky!” he exclaimed, wrapping his arms around him tight, almost lifting him off his feet. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? I’m sleeping with you tonight, no arguments.”
Sky let out a startled laugh, squirming for a second before giving in and leaning into the hug, his arms slipping around Prapai’s back without thought. His chest felt light, his heart steady despite its quick rhythm.
“…Fine,” Sky murmured, smiling against Prapai’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut. For the first time in a long while, he felt… content. Safe.
And when Prapai tightened his hold, pressing his cheek into Sky’s hair with a relieved sigh, Sky couldn’t stop the thought that rose quietly, happily in his chest:
This feels right.
Post:
The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the muffled sounds of the city just beginning to wake. Sky stirred first, his eyes fluttering open to the dim morning light seeping through the curtains.
It took him a moment to realize why he felt so warm, so… safe. Then it hit him—an arm, strong and heavy, was draped across his waist, pulling him firmly back against a broad chest. A pair of long legs tangled lazily with his.
“…oh.”
Sky froze. His heart gave a single wild kick.
Prapai.
He tilted his head slightly, just enough to glance behind him. The sight nearly knocked the air out of his lungs.
Prapai’s face, inches away. Relaxed, softer than Sky had ever seen it. No cocky grin, no flirty smirk—just even breaths, lashes fanning against his skin, lips parted slightly. The faintest streak of sunlight slipped through the curtain, landing across his cheek, making him look… well, like a puppy.
Sky bit down on his lip, feeling his cheeks heat. This is the same man who struts around like a rich CEO, all power and confidence? Seriously? How can someone be this unfair… handsome and adorable at the same time?
His eyes drifted back to the arm holding him tight, the grip so secure, so possessive, as if even in sleep Prapai refused to let go. Something inside Sky melted. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Prapai’s chest against his back, the soft puff of warm breath against his neck.
He smells like me now, Sky thought, the realization making his heart squeeze. Idiot probably buried his face in my pillow yesterday before falling asleep. Does he really need me this much?
The urge was unbearable—his fingers twitched, itching to touch. Finally, unable to resist, Sky reached up and brushed his hand lightly through Prapai’s messy hair, the strands softer than he expected. He lingered just a second too long, his cheeks blooming red as he quickly pulled his hand back.
That was when he saw it.
The corners of Prapai’s lips curved up, faint but unmistakable.
Sky froze. His eyes widened in horror. “…No. No way. You—”
Prapai’s eyes opened slowly, dark and amused, still hazy with sleep but sparkling with mischief. “Mmm… good morning, Sky.”
Sky’s face exploded in color. “You—You were awake?! All that time?! Why didn’t you—” He squirmed, trying to push away, but the arm around him only tightened, pulling him firmly back against Prapai’s chest.
“Let me go!” Sky protested, thrashing weakly. “P’Paaaaai~~”
“Never,” Prapai murmured into his ear, his voice husky from sleep, holding him even closer. “Not when you look this cute.”
Sky buried his flaming face into the pillow, groaning, utterly defeated. His heart was screaming, his body refusing to move away no matter how much he told himself to. And Prapai—of course—just laughed softly, pressing a kiss into Sky’s hair before nuzzling back down like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And despite his embarrassment, Sky found himself smiling, the warmth spreading through his chest impossible to fight.
Maybe, just maybe, being trapped like this wasn’t so bad.