TOXIC

Match Meant to Be

Kongpob heaved a sigh as he fidgeted around the kitchen. Right now, he thought that's the best place to stay. He wasn't hungry, neither he is thirsty. But for some reason, his throat felt parched. The presence of people, their loud noises, along with the ring that shines on his left finger makes it all real, that he is now a married man, he has a husband.

It's been only hours since he has said I do in front of all those people, families, friends, the priest, and his husband. The word itself has thrown himself to a whirlpool of worrying, making him nervous...the thought of what to do next.

Arthit's family has returned to the city to prepare for Kong's welcome while Arthit will be staying back for two days at his house, which obviously means one thing......their first night, together as a couple would be in his house ...his .. no their room.

"Kong..", Chandra said impatiently. "I was looking for you, and Mook told me you are in the kitchen by yourself. Is everything alright?"

"I am good.", Kongpob paused. "Mom, are you happy with the marriage? Do you like him?"

"Do you like him, sweetheart?", her eyes softened.

Kongpob lowered his head, flustered, with a gentle nod.

"Then we all like him. As long as he makes you happy, we are happy, too.", she said gently. "Now, back to my first question."

Kong looked at her quizzically, tilting his head.

"It's already 10 p.m, What's my baby doing in the kitchen ?", she lightly touched his face gesturing upstairs towards their bedroom.

Kong frowned since he didn't get the implications of her words but once realization hit him, his eyes widened, he immediately dodged his mother's gaze, clenching his fists.

"Don't make him wait.", she chuckled. "Go ahead and put him out of his misery.", she lowered her hand with a pat on his cheek.

Kongpob said nothing but nodded his head as he turned around and walked towards the stairs. He was wearing deep neck green t-shirt along with white shorts, obviously Sam's selection.

Kongpob stood before the bedroom door as his tummy muscles clenched deliciously sending unknown but euphoric waves throughout his body. He pushed open the door and was greeted by the silhouette of his husband standing by the window, looking out over the vast garden.

"P'Arthit..", he called as he gently closed the door, locking it.

Arthit turned and looked at him and smiled. The same dimpled smile which he fell for, the same smile which clicked something inside him, that he wanted to run to the said man, throw his hands around his neck,and bury his face to the elder's chest. But he controlled. Gulping hard, he walked forward.

Arthit strolls slowly towards his husband in his confident steps trying hard to conceal the anxiety. Both of their hearts pounding hard. He stands before the younger, staring down into his eyes.

Arthit wanted to say a lot. He even practiced some lines which he could use during their first night but seems like his brain has decided to go on a vacation. His first ever international presentation now felt like a child's play.

The day he came to visit the younger for the first time, he asked for his phone number so that they can get to know each other well before their marriage. This may seem thoughtful from Arthit's side but there was also an ulterior motive too. The more they talk before marriage, the lesser they have to converse during their first night together, which means cut the chase and get in to the real business. That was the wicked side of the young billionaire speaking, which no one has to know.