Sin Dressed as an Angel

Touch Me, You Want This Don't You

Can I come to your room?

Tine had finally caved and sent the text to Sarawat after an entire day of trying to resist the urge. He'd spent hours going back and forth between not wanting to see Sarawat at all, and wanting nothing else.

What Tine really wants is answers. He wants to know exactly how taken by Pam Sarawat is. Tine wants to know what that might mean for him.

His use. His purpose. His position in Sarawat's eyes.

When the terse answer of, 'No,' lights up the screen of Tine's phone, he exhales a sharp sigh in frustration and tosses it at his side, face down against the bed where he sits.

He's laid back, propped against the headboard with knees drawn up and a book open in his lap, resting against the tops of his thighs as he reads. Well, half reads. Frankly, it's been damn near impossible for Tine to focus on anything ever since he'd witnessed the kiss between Pam and Sarawat the previous night.

And, beyond wondering what that kiss might have meant, Tine also can't help but wonder why it matters to him so much. It's a scary thought that he could be developing feelings and desires beyond those of the physical when it comes to Sarawat. Beyond a surface intrigue.

Life is already complicated enough without feelings like those.

Biting at his bottom lip, Tine shuts the book and abandons any hope in distracting himself, picking his phone up again and sending another message.

Sarawat. Please. I want to talk to you.

And when he gets no reply, after a few minutes, Tine follows it with,

I'm gonna come see you anyway.

To that, Sarawat's response comes quickly. A simple and serious, 'Don't'.

Tine nearly snarls in his irritation, the flames of anger beginning to lick hot from within the hollow of his belly. He knows that Sarawat is angry as well — that much is obvious — and it's probably deserved, after the biting message Tine sent last night.

The demand of staying away is not heeded. Tine rises from the bed, stepping into a pair of socks and shoes, before pocketing his phone and slipping out into the hall, where he makes way for Sarawat's room. When he gets there, he knocks on the door — impatient raps not loud enough to draw unwanted attention, but enough to alert Sarawat from inside.

But Sarawat isn't the one who opens the door.

Pam is.

"What's going on?" is Tine's harsh response, the second the door parts enough to reveal Pam with his hand on the knob and a brow arched in his own silent question.

Pam clears his throat once. "Hello, Tine. Sarawat and I were just — "

"I don't want to talk to you, I want to talk to Sarawat. Let me in." Tine doesn't wait for an invitation, before he shoves his way into the room, causing Pam to stumble out of the way, and is forced to shut the door behind them.

With arms crossed over his chest in his sudden spike of anger, Tine comes to stand directly in front of where Sarawat occupies a chair at the other end of the room.

"Sarawat, will you tell me what the hell's going on between you two?" Tine demands.

Sarawat's nostrils flare with a sharp and pointed inhale, studying and dissecting Tine in a way that only he is capable of. He knows Tine has masturbated. More than once. Not even that putrid hospital disinfectant could cover it. Aside from this, Sarawat doesn't move.