SOTUS: The University Days (and Other Universes)

Darling, It Is

i. Kongpob learns quickly, a quick learner that he is, early in their relationship, that pet names aren't Arthit's thing.

"Hon?" He calls offhandedly from Arthit's bathroom one night. "You're out of toothpaste. Do you have another one?"

Arthit doesn't respond, so Kongpob sticks his head out of the bathroom. "P'Arthit?"

He finds his boyfriend standing just right outside the door, arms crossed and with a pale pink complexion. Kongpob can't figure out why.

Arthit disappears to grab another tube of toothpaste and hardly looks at him when he comes back to hand it to him. Kongpob only figures out why later in the evening, when he calls Arthit hon while in bed.

Kongpob wouldn't say his boyfriend is disgusted, just suddenly very conscious, very aware.

Once Kongpob realizes that Arthit doesn't like it, he bites his tongue.

ii. Later on, Kongpob tries them out systematically. He carefully chooses the pet name, the setting, and the circumstance.

One day, they're sitting at their faculty's cafeteria. Arthit is tutoring Kongpob about Design of Machine Elements I, but, as always, Kongpob cannot concentrate. He cannot because Arthit is just so radiant. He just fails to take his eyes off the slight shimmer of Arthit's skin where the sun strikes his face.

"Kongpob?"

Kongpob snaps out of the trance Arthit doesn't know he holds him in and smiles.

He chooses carefully, fitting the word to the mood. "Sorry, love, I'm listening."

Arthit takes his pen from the table and hits Kongpob's head with it.

It's a shame. Love is one of Kongpob's favorites.

iii. Domestic Arthit is one of Kongpob's favorite iterations.

Outside, his Arthit is harsh angles, metalworks, clenched fists, and fiery eyes.

But his Arthit, as he finds out, is also soft cotton shirts rolled up at the sleeves, pink milk, and oversized sleepwear. He's fluffy scrambled eggs and soft pancakes in the morning. He's a baby.

"How do you make your scrambled eggs so fluffy, baby?" Kongpob asks during breakfast.

Arthit stops chewing his food and glares at him, like he's going to devour him.

But Kongpob isn't bothered. He knows it won't last long.

He's right. And he's wrong.

He's right that the glare won't last long. But he's wrong for calling him baby.

"I add water," Arthit answers finally, flatly, after rolling his eyes.

Not baby, then, Kongpob says to himself.

iv. Baby has a sexier version. So during one heated moment, Kongpob tries it out.

"Kong..."

"P'Arthit..."

"Kong, I'm about to..."

"Yes..."

"...come."

"Yes, babe, come all over me."

Arthit, taken aback, slows down his strokes. He doesn't stop, but he takes it slow.

This isn't the moment to take it slow.

It feels like something bothers him.

Is babe really that of a turn-off?

So when Arthit says he's about to come again, Kongpob chooses to zip his mouth.

v. To people, Arthit isn't big on anything. But to Kongpob, his little things are his everything.

When they sleep together, Arthit always tells him to go to bed first so that he can turn off the lights. It's a small thing, but Kongpob loves it.

Kongpob, then, hates it when people touch his hair. Praepailin and Maprang love doing it. They say it feels like touching a rabbit, or a kitten. But when Kongpob has had enough, he tells them to stop.

But when Arthit touches his hair, he allows him. He encourages him. Arthit's touches might not be as soft as Praepailin's and Maprang's, but Kongpob never yearns for anything soft anyway.

Kongpob's favorite, however, is when they are in his room and Arthit allows him to hold his hand. Arthit would always rub his thumb on the skin next to Kongpob's index finger. He's a darling.

Kongpob doesn't know if it means Arthit is bored or if there's a message he writes on his hand. But he looks forward to it every time they are alone.

One Friday night, Arthit shows up in Kongpob's room, carrying a variety of chips and cans of beer.

"We're drinking tonight?" Kongpob asks him.

"Yes," Arthit answers as he flops his body on Kongpob's bed.

Kongpob scoots closer, moving his hand near Arthit's.

In no time, Arthit gets the message and holds it. He starts his thumb movements, Kongpob's favorite.

"You choose to drink with me and not with P'Bright?"

As always, Arthit doesn't directly answer. "I want to watch a movie."

Kongpob smiles. "So, a movie night with your boyfriend."

It takes long for Arthit to mutter a "yes."

"With beer?"

"You don't want it?"

Kongpob widens his already-wide smile. "I do."

He lets Arthit choose a film to watch, and when the title on the screen catches Kongpob's attention, he questions it.

"The Breakfast Club?"

"It's your favorite. Why?"

"We watched it a number of times already. You don't need to do this."

"Hey, I want to. I love this movie."

Kongpob scoffs, leaning his head towards Arthit. "You love The Breakfast Club?"

With confidence and slight irritation, Arthit answers, "I do. Besides, you watch Grease with me every time, so this should be okay."

"Just okay?"

Arthit ruffles his hair, too hard for it to be considered sweet. "What do you want to hear, huh?"

What a lucky night, Kongpob thinks. He got his favorite touches and the hair ruffles he loves.

"Nothing," he says, now feeling very adored.

Arthit starts playing the movie, and Kongpob rests his head on his shoulder.

"Thank you, darling," Kongpob whispers abruptly, too abruptly. He didn't think about it.

What happened to considering the setting and the circumstance?

He closes his eyes, feeling ashamed.

But not long after, he feels a touch on his nose.

He opens his eyes and sees a very fond Arthit.

"I like darling," Arthit says.

Darling, it is.

_____
a/n: but we all know arthit is too ashamed to let people know he and kongpob call each other darling :'((

n e way, this story was scheduled for next week, but i published it early to compensate for the cruel update i published yesterday. i hope it gets the job done??????

also this story contradicts a part of my fic, first weeks and friends, which reminds me that i need to revise that shit soon >:(