SOTUS: Interoffice (The Series)

Distractions

It's 7.30 on a Monday morning, and with work that Arthit had left untouched since last Friday, he had forced himself out of bed (with Kongpob giving him at least twenty missed calls) to get a headstart in clearing his work. Kongpob was nice enough to sacrifice his own sleep to accompany Arthit, turning up at the male's apartment with his motorcycle, looking so fresh and put-together in his crisply ironed shirt, sporting a smile which should be illegal considering the timing.

It's moments like these that tells Arthit how much Kongpob treasures him. Despite his hectic schedule of hazing activities, school and internship, Kongpob still tries his very best to take care of Arthit. He's set the bar so fucking high. Arthit knows that if they ever do go their seperate ways one day (he fucking hopes not), he's never going to find another person like Kongpob. Arthit is that convinced. He would just live with the heartbreak and die single.

Arthit, on the other hand, was sporting a look resembling a wordless warning - don't mess with me, not today. He had chosen the first shirt that wasn't too wrinkled from being in the washing machine, and had styled his hair in his half-asleep state. He grudgingly walks up to Kongpob, half-glowering at his boyfriend from beneath his bangs.

"No one should look this good in the morning."

He's grateful when Kongpob chooses not to playfully annoy him like he usually does, staying still to let his boyfriend fix the helmet for him. Kongpob has learnt the hard way that Arthit is not to be trifled in the early morning.

Also, one of the best things about dating Kongpob? His motorcycle. Arthit can't remember the last time he had to run for a bus or squeeze in one, enduring the stank of perspiration and body odour. Yes, he's aware that Kongpob has spoiled him, thank you very much. It's clear that Kongpob's way of showing love was through acts of service.

On the bike, Arthit sleepily tucks his chin against Kongpob's shoulder, loosely wrapping his arms around the male's midsection. He smells so nice, Arthit thinks dreamily, realizing that it was the cologne that Arthit had chosen for him during one of their dates. Arthit could be a tad sensitive to scents, so he had picked one that wasn't overpowering. Something that wouldn't hurt his nose. Mingled with Kongpob's own scent and the lingering smell of tobacco, it was just the right combin-

Wait.

Tobacco?

In an instant, Arthit feels wide awake, slapping Kongpob on the hip before his boyfriend can start the motorcycle.

"Have you been smoking?"

The thing about Kongpob is that he's shit at lying when it comes to Arthit (plus, he wouldn't dare to do so).

"Just one earlier on! It's my first time in a really long while, P'Arthit." Kongpob looks so guilty that Arthit doesn't have it in him to actually scold the other.

They had come to an agreement that Kongpob would try to cut down on smoking, and that he could smoke as long as it wasn't around Arthit.

"The hazing thing was stressing me out with the dean breathing down my neck about safety. With the beach trip coming up and all...I just wanted one to clear my mind." Kongpob continues explaining, risking another glance at Arthit.

"Fine." Arthit says grudgingly. "You know I only give you shit about that because I care, right? Can't have you dying on me first." He mutters the last sentence, though he knows Kongpob hears it judging from the soft smile on his lips.

"And you should stop smoking so much with Ai'Prem too." Arthit nags. "...what's the point of having such a handsome face if you're going to reek of smoke?"