Work Text:
Sky had sworn on his law degree that he would never, ever be one of those lawyers.
The kind who got distracted.
The kind who forgot why they fought.
The kind who let charm ruin their judgment.
And then Prapai walked into his life in a three-piece suit and a smirk that made Sky’s blood boil.
The courtroom was Sky’s arena. He’d trained for this, bled for this, burned himself out on textbooks and sleepless nights just for the chance to bring down men like him.
Prapai Areerak. CEO. Untouchable. Dangerous.
Sky came armed with evidence and fire.
Pai came armed with charm.
When Sky presented a damning document, Pai leaned back like it was foreplay.
When Sky tore through his arguments, Pai tilted his head and murmured, low enough for only Sky to hear:
“Passionate, aren’t you?”
Sky nearly threw his pen at him.
“Smug bastard,” he muttered instead.
Pai just grinned wider.
Weeks passed. Each hearing was another battle.
Sky’s colleagues teased him.
“Why does he get under your skin so much?”
“He doesn’t.”
“You sure? You look like you want to strangle him.”
“Yeah. With my bare hands.”
But strangling wasn’t the only thing Sky thought about. And that terrified him more than losing the case.
Pai’s board noticed too.
“You shouldn’t let that kid provoke you,” they warned.
Pai smirked. “He’s not provoking me. He’s… entertaining.”
Bullshit. Sky rattled him, and Pai liked it.
One night, Sky caught him staying late.
No cameras. No audience.
Just Pai, sleeves rolled, tie undone, glaring at spreadsheets like they’d personally betrayed him.
Sky should’ve walked away.
Instead, he lingered in the doorway, watching.
Pai looked up. Their eyes locked.
No smirk. No arrogance. Just exhaustion.
Sky’s chest tightened. Against every bit of better judgment, he said quietly, “Don’t work yourself to death.”
Pai blinked. Then smiled. Small. Real.
“Worried about me, counselor?”
Sky flushed and stormed off before he could answer.
The next morning, there was coffee on his desk. With a note.
For energy. You’ll need it against me.
Sky groaned. “Asshole.”
But he drank it. Every drop.
The next day, another cup. Another note.
Try not to blush when you lose.
By the fourth, Sky was saving the notes in his drawer. Evidence, he told himself. Nothing more.
The kiss happened after another fight.
Sharp words in an empty hallway.
Sky shoved Pai, furious. Pai caught his wrist, equally furious.
“You think you’re better than everyone because you have money,” Sky spat.
“And you think you’re better because you hate people like me,” Pai shot back.
Breath hot. Faces inches apart.
And then silence. Charged. Heavy.
Before Sky could think, Pai’s mouth was on his.
It was brutal. Desperate. Their teeth clashed, hands grabbed, clothes tugged.
It felt like drowning and breathing at the same time.
Sky hated him.
Hated how good Pai’s mouth felt.
Hated how his body arched like it had been waiting for this.
They stumbled into an office. No idea whose. Didn’t care.
Shirts ripped open. Belts unbuckled. Hands everywhere.
“Shut up,” Sky hissed as Pai laughed against his throat.
“Make me,” Pai growled, pinning him against the desk.
It wasn’t tender. It was raw. Fast. Furious.
When Sky came, gasping Pai’s name, he wanted to die from shame.
When Pai kissed his temple after, he wanted to kill him.
“This never happened,” Sky snapped, tugging his clothes back on.
“Sure,” Pai said, smug as ever. But his eyes were softer than Sky had ever seen.
It should’ve ended there. But it didn’t.
Because the next week, they ended up alone again.
Another argument. Another shove. Another kiss.
Only this time, it wasn’t so angry.
Sky still clawed at Pai’s shoulders. Pai still pinned him down.
But when Pai slowed, when he whispered, “Let me take care of you,” Sky didn’t push him away.
It was different.
Less war. More surrender.
Sky hated how much he wanted it.
Hated how good it felt to be held like that.
After, lying tangled in sheets, Sky muttered, “I still hate you.”
Pai chuckled, kissing his hair. “I know.”
Things shifted after that.
Their fights were still sharp. But glances lingered. Touches burned deeper.
Sky noticed Pai was changing too. The ruthless CEO now argued for compromise. The man who smirked at suffering now stayed late to make sure his employees weren’t collateral damage.
And Pai noticed Sky. His fury wasn’t abstract, it came from scars left by corporate greed.
They were enemies. But also… something else.
It happened after a brutal hearing. Sky lost a motion he thought he’d win.
He stayed at the office, head in his hands.
Somehow, Pai showed up.
“Go away,” Sky muttered.
Pai didn’t. He sat beside him instead.
For a long moment, silence. Then Pai said softly, “You’re the only person who’s ever made me question myself.”
Sky looked up, startled. Pai’s eyes were serious. Vulnerable.
His throat tightened. He leaned in before he could stop himself.
The kiss was slow this time. Gentle. Careful.
They ended up in bed again. But not messy. Not war.
It was tender. Pai’s hands traced every line of him like Sky was fragile. Sky let himself be kissed until he forgot to hate.
And when they fell asleep tangled together, Sky didn’t pull away.
- - -
The case ended in compromise. Sky’s firm won partial accountability. Pai’s company lost enough to feel it, but not enough to crumble.
Both sides claimed victory. Neither cared.
Because when the courtroom emptied, they stayed. Together.
Sky crossed his arms. “I still think you’re a capitalist pig.”
Pai smirked. “And I still think you’re insufferable.”
“Asshole.”
“Sweetheart.”
And then they kissed, soft and sure.
Sky kept every coffee note.
Pai kept the tie Sky tugged on that first night.
They still bickered. Still fought. Still drove each other insane.
But now, when Sky muttered “smug bastard,” Pai kissed him quiet.
And Sky let him.
Because maybe enemies weren’t the worst thing to be.
Maybe lovers were better.