Just Pretend

Chapter 12

 Arthit was having a wonderful dream. He was in bed, something warm and very much alive was draped over him. A hand rubbed circles on his chest and he smiled softly as he leaned back against the chest of the person holding him.

"I love you," they whispered against his ear, sending shivers down Arthit's spine. "I love you, Arthit. Arthit. Arthit."

Arthit's brow furrowed as they repeated his name. His body began to shake and the words became louder.

"Arthit!"

Arthit woke with a gasp, the hand on his shoulder shaking him roughly. He groaned and turned to see Kongpob leaning over him, worried.

"Arthit, are you awake?" Kongpob raised his hand and placed it on Arthit's forehead.

"M'wake," Arthit grumbled, weakly pushing Kongpob's hand away.

"You have a fever," Kongpob said, laying a cool washcloth on Arthit's forehead. Arthit sighed at the feeling. He hadn't even realized there was sweat covering his body, drenching his clothes and making him shiver despite the heat consuming him. "You're burning up, P'Arthit."

"What time is it?"

Kongpob checked his watch. "Eleven."

Arthit's eyes flew open and he tried to sit up. As soon as he was upright, however, a wave of dizziness forced him to lay back down. "What about work?"

"What?" Kongpob laughed, almost incredulous. "You're not going to work like this, P'Arthit."

"You," Arthit argued. "You need to go to work."

"Don't be stupid, if I go to work nobody will be here to take care of you."

"I'll be fine."

"No," Kongpob said forcefully. "I'm not leaving you. What if there's an infection or something and I need to take you to the hospital? I won't leave you alone."

Arthit was too tired to argue, and the cool washcloth really did feel lovely against his burning skin as Kongpob gently wiped it over his face, neck, and chest. He just grunted his agreement and let Kongpob continue with the sponge bath, wiping away the trails of sweat dripping from his hair. It was incredibly relaxing, and he remained pliant when Kongpob helped him into a sitting position, peeling off his soaked t-shirt and letting Arthit lean on him as he continued to wipe down Arthit's torso. It wasn't until the washcloth moved lower, brushing the waistband of his boxers that Arthit realized that at some point he had grown hard. He froze, catching Kongpob's wrist in his hand to stop him.

Kongpob cocked his brow curiously and Arthit wanted to bury his face in his pillow and hide from embarrassment. He wordlessly glanced down and Kongpob followed his gaze, his own eyes going wide when he finally noticed Arthit's problem. He pulled his hand away, setting the wash cloth back in the bowl of water.

"Kongpob, I'm sorry," Arthit whispered. "I don't know -"

"It's okay." Kongpob cut him off, flashing him a reassuring smile. "It happens."

Arthit covered his face in his hands, pulling the blanket up to cover himself. Kongpob emptied the water and stood for a moment, unsure of what to do with a sick and erect Arthit laying in his bed. Finally, he grabbed his wallet and keys and turned to Arthit.

"I'll go get you some medicine and some congee. Call me if anything happens or if you start to feel worse."

Arthit nodded, too embarrassed to say anything as Kongpob left the apartment.