The thin line [Complete]

Chapter 15

Arthit's POV

Was I behaving slightly crazy? Ofcourse. Would anyone who could see me right now question my sanity? No doubt about it. Was I about to stop behaving in such a finicky manner? Let's not count on it.

It has been over 3 hours since I ran into Mike at the hotel lobby where he almost nonchalantly let me know that he had flown to a whole another country, rearranged his schedule for an entire week, and was pretty much happy to share his room with Kongpob as if that is simply what friends did for each other. Yeah, not even a little bit. I have tons of great friends and not one of them has remotely ever flown to a different country for me. In fact even asking for help with moving generally needs to accompany tons of free food and beer. So no way was I buying Mike being the 'just friends' line of argument anymore.

Now I know the next natural question should obviously be that why did I care if Mike was just a friend or not. It wasn't like I was appointed by anyone to protect his virtue. Kongpob was obviously gay himself and if he was accepting of the attention that Mike was bestowing on him, who was I to interfere between potential or even old lovers.

And as much as that line of questioning made perfect sense to me I simply couldn't shake the feeling that something about Mike just rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn't exactly put my finger on it. Maybe it was how he was overly-friendly with not only Kongpob but every one even remotely associated to him. Or the fact that Kongpob didn't really seem to have the same reaction to Mike like his friend did to him. In all the time I had seen them together, not once had I ever noticed Kongpob getting all touchy feely with Mike. Or talk about him when he was not around. Or even mention him without someone else bringing his topic up. So this unnatural obsession that Mike seemed to be having with Kongpob seemed to be rather one sided and was leaving a very bitter taste in my mouth. Does this mean I am now his self-assigned savior from his so-called friend. You bet your ass I am.

Step number one would obviously be to get him away from the room. Which was definitely going to be difficult to convince him to move back into this room after I had essentially made his life a living hell for the past week. Perhaps giving him more than 5 minutes to shower every morning wouldn't have killed me. Since, I can't reverse time to be slightly more pleasant to him when I had the chance, my only option was to forge ahead. Let's please not try to poke holes into my new plan now. Cause I doubt I have learnt my lesson from last week. So I reached for my phone and dialed his number, which was answered after one too many rings with heard his fairly gruff voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Kongpob..."

"P'Arthit?"

"What were you doing?"

"It's past 1 in the morning."

"So...what were you doing?"

"P'Arthit let's just assume from now to the end of eternity that every single time you call me during normal sleep hours I am doing what most species on this planet are probably also doing. Sleeping. I was sleeping."

"Okay that's good then."

"Did you call and wake me up just to confirm that I was sleeping?"

"Of course not."

"Then?"

"You need to come over to my room."

"Why?"

"I need my socks ironed."

"Socks?"

"Yes."

"You iron your socks?"