BrightWin Collection

What I hate About You

Win Metawin has, although with considerable reluctance, many things he likes about his boyfriend.

His hair would be a good place to start. It's silkier more often than not, and when it's sticky with sweat, Win enjoys untangling the ebony locks as he ruffles his hair.

Then there were his eyes. Deep dark brown so beautiful.

And then, of course–

Wait; did he actually not like anything about Bright Vachirawit?

… Fuck.

"There has to be something." He angrily utters to himself, as he harassed his ballpoint pen, aggressively hitting it against the wooden desk. Some of his classmates are sending him concerned glances– well, who gives a shit. At least, Win didn't.

"Win, stationery abuse is prohibited during class hours." Mr. Off chides, an irritated expression plastered on his face as he paused the lecture he didn't even want to teach.

"That's not a fucking rule."

"It is now, because I said so."

Well, shit. He slumps backward on his chair, avoiding Bright's intense stare across the room, three rows in front of him. Somewhere in the background, Rachel and Nanon are snickering their ass off– it takes Win all the patience he had remaining to not burn the whole building.

The train of thought continues without any specified destination– other than the answer he had in mind.

His voice?

Well, his voice is actually pretty fucking hot. He notes, and his deep voice turn me on. A shade of burning red reaches his ears, as he remembers the countless nights they had spent together beforehand.

His hands?

Surprisingly, Bright's fingers weren't the smooth, long, perfectly white and flawless kind. Each finger had a small bruise from his thai boxing routine, some that were healing, and some that had been replaced with a new wound. in contrast to Win's soft skin. His wolf boyfriend would often run his manly finger across the bunny's palm.

"I like your palm," He would say, with his low, cascading voice. Then his fingers would intertwine with Win's, his head bumping into his broader shoulders, as Win wordlessly adjusted his posture so that Bright could be more comfortable. "you're big but really soft, i really like it." the bunny boy snorts at the corny line.

There it was– Bright's simplicity. He wasn't trying to explore every miniscule detail and explain the theory behind each living atom in existence– he put it as it is, and Win appreciated such qualities. If there's a pancake on the table, Win just needs to know that it's a pancake– not the whole magical recipe behind it.

Not all that to say Bright's an airhead. He could be, just not naturally. He's a person of depth– but all at the same time, not overly complex.

Okay, now I'm just complimenting him to no end. Win grumbles aloud a cuss word, earning some cross glares from the sidelines. He once again, pulls down the urge to give them the middle finger, and walks by.

When he gets to the cafeteria, his eyes immediately search for Bright– a newly developed habit that Win refused to admit. He would've never realized it in the first place, if Rachel hadn't mentioned it. He's standing in line at the Thai cuisine corner– Win can assume they have Tom yum on their menu today.

"Win." Bright nods– a friendly gesture that he shared with those close to him. "What are you getting?"

The bunny boy scans the assortment of food, and responds, "Something –"