The cop and his suspect [Complete]

Chapter 6

Arthit's POV

This is a bad idea.

This is a bad, bad idea.

Bad, bad, bad Arthit.

He is just a kid. Barely out of his teenage years. All young and vulnerable. And very obviously one of the suspects in a case I am investigating. I so should not be spending even a microsecond thinking about him changing in my bathroom. And it really, really did not bode well for my sanity

that the one thing I should be avoiding like plague, I had essentially moved into my bedroom.

And even after all the pep talking I had done the entire drive back to my apartment I was thoroughly not prepared for him to step out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of boxers that was clearly atleast two sizes too small for him. His naked torso clearly showing of the his tanned muscles. The nipples exposed in all their glory tempting me to feast my eyes. His well-defined manhood barely concealed making sure my imaginations are going to be more than a little vivid tonight.

And just as that thought penetrated my brain I began choking on thin air, between violent coughs I finally grated out, my eyes piercing lasers as I practically yelled at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you walking around half naked in my house. Go put on some clothes."

The small smile on his face instantly vanishing as he bowed his head and blushed profusely before limping towards his duffle bags.

"Yeah...yeah...I'm sorry."

Perhaps if I wasn't the jerk of the highest degree instead of shooting daggers at him I would have noticed a little sooner that after more than a couple minutes he was still fidgeting in his bag and had yet to retrieve any clothes that qualified as pajamas. A few more boxers, a jacket, some socks, and a yellowing shirt that I have seen him wear more than once to his classes within the past week. It wasn't until I saw his finger that one shirt repeatedly, almost contemplating sleeping in it for the night did the dim bulb in my head finally go off that he probably didn't have clothes to wear.

I would have face palmed that instant but I didn't really want to embarrass him anymore tonight, so I softly padded over to my closest and pulled out a pair of t-shirt and pajamas that I thought might fit him.

"Here, wear these."

He looked at my outstretched hand for a few moments, the blood still very much flushing his face and neck as he silently accepted them and put them on. And for the oddest reason, seeing him clad in my clothes did something really funny in my pants that was wrong on so many levels. Mental note, buy him some clothes first thing tomorrow.

I snapped out my daydream when I saw him try to hobble his way across the room and immediately slipped my arm around his waist to help him towards the bed. The not so logical sensation in my pants working overtime by now. I straightened up the instant he was tucked in and all but ran to the opposite corner of the room to lay out a spare quilt and curse myself to sleep.

"P'?"

"Wh...what?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

"Cause my bed is clearly occupied."

"But it's so huge. We can easily share."

Yeah, not ever happening. Bringing the boy to my apartment was bad enough. No way was I sharing sleeping space with him. Atleast not until I had managed to slap my brain straight.