If tomorrow never comes [Complete]

Chapter 9

It seemed that lately all Arthit looked forward to was the moment Kong entered their apartment at the end of each day. It didn't matter what time or how late it was. It didn't matter how early Arthit needed to be in classes or work on his projects. He couldn't even fathom going to bed anymore without atleast once looking over at Kong, preferably while he slept peacefully next to Arthit's bed. And today he was a little more than excited for Kong's return.

After over two years Arthit would finally greet Kong as a single man. Arthit had long since stopped even questioning why his overwhelming urge to break up with Nam had anything to do with Kong. It did. And now was simply the time to accept it. At some point, hopefully in the near future he knew he wanted to steal another kiss off Kong's lips, and this time he wanted Kong very much awake for it. And although Arthit had absolutely no idea how receptive Kong would be of any form of attention from Arthit that wasn't strictly platonic, he couldn't give up without atleast giving it a shot.

The first step in that direction obviously involved breaking up with Nam. And after staying up the entire night alternately obsessing over the slight touch of Kong's soft lips against his and how exactly he was supposed to break up with a person he has supposedly happily dated for two years he woke up first thing in the morning and marched over to Nam's place. Now that his mind was made up, he needed to take actions towards freeing both of them from this farce of a relationship. It wasn't fair to either of the three of them to keep on prolonging this anymore while Arthit was clearly stuck on someone else.

What surprised him beyond his wildest imagination was how easily Nam took that particular conversation. Although, Arthit had absolutely no intention of involving Kong's name, or even mention the fact that he had been having a rather unhealthy obsession about another man, he did prepare a fairly thorough speech about how incompatible both of them had become over their relationship. And if Arthit wasn't already so obsessed with his roommate he would have spent more than two seconds worrying about the fact that Nam accepted his fickle explanation without any objection whatsoever, giving him a light hug in return with the only condition that they would still remain in touch as friends. Perhaps when his thoughts stop getting so clouded with Kong he would think back to why and how that particular conversation with Nam shaped up.

Currently, though he was much more focused on staring intently at the front door waiting for Kong to make his way home. And as the clock kept ticking up with Kong yet being a no-show, Arthit's impatience kept rising. The evening long gone. The night fast passing by. And the more Arthit paced up and down his living room, sending a volley of messages, calling him incessantly, but to no vail, the more his ire kept increasing. Where the hell could he possibly be? His latest job didn't ever run past 10:30 pm and the worst he ever did with overtime was coming home around midnight. Right now with the clock showing well past 2 in the morning and his morning job scheduled to begin again at 6, in only a few short hours he would be gone again. That is if he did actually ended up coming home at all. Where the fuck was he? Maybe with that Dey female? Perhaps Arthit should have been a lot more attentive the last time she was at their place. Probably even get her phone number for situations just like this. And while Arthit was all but ready to go down this useless path of contemplation the door finally clicked softly open, to reveal a highly disheveled Kong.

"Where the fuck were you?"

Arthit was way past pretending to be a disinterested 'friend' by now. Even going as far as marching right upto the door and roughly pulling Kong's arm to drag him towards bathroom to wash off the filth from his face and body, continuously chastising him for coming home so late. Not even beginning to address the fact that Kong was drenched from head to toe in grime and dust. His dark black hair having turned into a soft grey with the dirt firmly etched into them.