SOTUS: The University Days (and Other Universes)

kongpob's special fried rice

Arthit lies on the couch and debates ordering takeout for the third time within the day. He's starving, but he realizes his phone is sitting on the counter in the kitchenette. It's not really that far away, but his arms are still sore from the heavy work the previous day.

It's not always that the production department asks for help, and because it's the department he wants to work at and Yong asked for a favor, how could he say no? Right now, however, he regrets taking up the task.

He's about to force his body up when he hears the sound of his door. With a key in his left hand and a bag of supplies in the other, Kongpob makes his way in, showing himself to Arthit.

"I texted you. We didn't you reply?"

Arthit suddenly feels guilty. "I can't get my phone. Sorry," he mumbles.

Kongpob sighs. He retires the plastic bag and his key on the counter and hurriedly places himself next to Arthit, touching his arms in an attempt to massage them. "Do they still hurt?"

Arthit feels shy nodding, but he still does. "I'll be okay. I'll just take some painkillers, and this will be gone."

"Oh. Yeah, right," Kongpob says. "I checked your medicine kit this morning, and you ran out of painkillers, so I brought some from my apartment. I also bought some ingredients. I'll make you dinner."

"What?!" Arthit panics, knowing Kongpob isn't the best in the kitchen. "You don't need to! I can... I can order! In fact, I was about to before you came in," he says, forcing himself to move his legs and walk to where his phone rests.

Kongpob, however, pulls him back to bed while gently rubbing his arms. "P'Arthit, I already bought ingredients. I don't want them to go to waste. Besides, I want to take care of my boyfriend," he says.

And, really, what can Arthit say in response? They have been dating for more than two years now, but Arthit still gets stunned whenever Kongpob says something of the sort. Arthit, to most people, is quite hard to read, but Kongpob has already deciphered every page of him.

As Kongpob brings out the eggs, minces the pork, and stir-fries some steamed rice, Arthit can't help but feel a bit nervous. One time, Kongpob fed him an omelet so burnt on one side that Arthit felt like he was eating medicine tablets. Kongpob felt so proud of it though, so Arthit couldn't bring it to him to tell his boyfriend the truth. Only higher beings know what Kongpob will whip out this time.

Kongpob grins widely as he sets down the plate in front of Arthit. "Tadaa! Here's my masterpiece. I call it "Kongpob's Special Fried Rice."

Arthit can't help but chuckle at the name, but he tries to maintain a neutral expression as he takes, albeit somehow forcefully, a spoonful of the dish.

To his surprise, the food actually tastes decent — not the best fried rice he's ever had, but the rice was somewhat evenly cooked, the minced pork has the right tenderness, and the eggs won't give him salmonella. It lacks the savor from Arthit's favorite food house across the street, but it's definitely better than whatever he expected. Upon his second spoonful of the dish, Arthit realizes he can actually eat this again if ever Kongpob cooks it one more time.

Kongpob looks at Arthit with eager eyes, waiting for his reaction. "So? How is it?"

Arthit fidgets with his spoon. "It's... not bad," he mumbles, trying to hide the fact that he somehow actually likes it.

"Not bad? I'll take it! I'm glad you're enjoying it," he says with a grin.

Arthit can't help but smile at Kongpob's enthusiasm. He's always been charmed by his boyfriend's infectious energy and positivity, and this is Kongpob's best dish to date, so maybe he should have given more credit to it.

As they eat their meal, they chat about their day and catch up on each other's lives. Arthit tells Kongpob about how he will never help to lift heavy boxes again (with Kongpob promising to give his muscles a full massage later), and Kongpob tells him about how his batch is already planning for their graduation. It's a comfortable and familiar routine, one that they've developed over the past few years of dating.

After they finish their meal, Kongpob insists on cleaning up the dishes, which Arthit, with the state of his body, can only be thankful for. As he watches Kongpob bustle around his little kitchen, Arthit can't help but feel grateful for his boyfriend's thoughtfulness and care.

Kongpob's cooking might not be the best, but his love for Arthit is undeniable. And that's all that really matters to Arthit in the end.