Arthit had always been successful at everything he put his mind to. A good student, successful head hazer, now, Arthit embraces his decision to be with Kongpop.
Book 1 of 3
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Before his knuckles could touch the door, It opened. Arthit was ready to peer each way down the hall. He had been opening it every minute since seven o'clock. Their faces came close together as he pushed his head out. Arthit took a deep breath in, as his eyes met Kong's.
The clock on the wall stopped ticking. The air in the hall didn't move.
Kongpop's bags fell to the floor. His hands had lost the strength to hold them.
His stare dropped to his feet and he started... "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, P'Arthit."
Arthit seized his arm and pulled him inside. Using his foot he pushed Kong's bags just in enough to close the door.
Holding Kong there, with his back against it, Arthit smashed his mouth into Kong's. His hands were on both sides of Kongpop's head. P' kissed Kong until he couldn't breathe. He stopped long enough to look into his eyes and then pressed his mouth again onto the full red lips of the younger man.
Kongs limp arms reached up and wrapped around Arthit's back. He held them there as if asking permission. Arthit's passion and ire-filled kiss was his answer. He squeezed so hard it hurt. Arthit kissed down the side of Kong's long neck. He reached the pocket between his neck and his chest; he nestled his face there and held on, not moving. Arthit was taking in short sharp breaths. Kong's tight hold was making it difficult.
"P'Arthit, there's so much I need to say."
"Kongpop, Kongpop." His chest vibrated as Arthit spoke into the spot where he had tucked his face.
Kong was loosening his grip slightly. "Arthit?"
"Kong, your here, you're in my arms, that's really all I care about. I want to stay like this forever."
"But P'Arthit, there's so much I need to say."
"No, not now Kong."
Taking his hand and pulling him down the hall, Arthit pushed the bedroom door open. Kong followed, his eyes were on Arthit's back. This beautiful man he'd fallen in love with, he'd changed. He wasn't afraid to say what he wanted anymore, he wasn't shy about this, he wasn't embarrassed.
The door swung open. Kong held his breath as he surveyed and took in with his eyes, a sight. The room was bright, all the drapes were pulled back as far as they would go. The early evening sun was lighting the room with a soft yellow glow. The bed was made with pure white sheets and pillowcases, no other covering.
In the centre of the bed, just below where the pillows met, were the two gears. Their strings were still tied together. The window was open and the sheets seemed to flow with the breeze. The floor was covered with flower petals of every possible colour, as the breeze moved them around, they spun in circles. They seemed like a thick carpet of blossoms. The room smelled of flowers and strawberries. Their sweet scent filled his nostrils. A bowl of fresh red berries sat on Arthit's bedside table.
