Distant Signals: The Definition of Us

Chapter Seven

"P'Arthit."

Groaning, Arthit rolled away from the sound and curled up in a fetal position. He didn't want to get up. It was far too early, and he had no intention of getting up with the sun like his boyfriend.

But then the bed dipped down, and seconds later Kongpob was lying beside him, his mouth positioned close to his ear. "P'Arthit," he repeated. There was a long pause, and Arthit shivered when he felt warm puffs of air tickle his earlobe. "It's almost noon," said Kongpob. "Shouldn't you wake up now?"

"Still too early," mumbled Arthit, rolling onto his other side. He snuggled into Kongpob's chest, hoping that it might dissuade his junior from trying to wake him up any longer.

Kongpob snorted, but he wrapped his arms around Arthit without a word and held him for a few minutes. Just as Arthit was starting to fall back asleep, Kongpob said, "I can't stay much longer. I'm already an hour late."

"Who cares?" He asked, waspish. His mind was groggy as fuck and he wanted to stay in bed. Most importantly, he didn't want Kongpob to leave. Huffing, Arthit doubled-down on the cuddling and nuzzled into Kongpob's shoulder, snaking his arms around his boyfriend's waist and squeezing him tight. "They can do it on their own," he said. "Your part's done. Stay here and sleep."

There was a pause. Then, "P'Arthit...You know this isn't a dream, right?"

"Why do you always ask me that?" Arthit murmured. Why was Kongpob still talking? Couldn't he just enjoy the moment?

"Because you're not usually like this unless..."

Unless he mistook Real-Kongpob for Dream-Kongpob, Arthit's mind supplied, and the thought instantly brought him out of his stupor. What was with that sullen tone? He opened his eyes and shifted so that he could see Kongpob's face. "Are you pouting right now?" Arthit asked, incredulous.

Kongpob flushed. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're sulking. Why?"

"..."

"Is it because of my dreams?"

"No."

This time, it was Kongpob whose voice rose an octave and Arthit couldn't help but release a short bark of laughter. "That's it, isn't it?" he asked, absolutely delighted by the absurdity of Kongpob being jealous of a dream version of himself.

All this time, he'd mistakenly believed that Kongpob was self-assured and confident in every aspect of his life, but it turned out that he could be nervous and insecure too. It was cute, and strangely emboldening—last night, especially. For the first time, he'd realized that he wasn't the only one between them who had reservations about having sex, and it'd felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Kongpob wasn't going to dump him for needing to take things slow. It was not only okay, but also what he wanted too. And that fact alone had given him the confidence to push past his comfort zone, just like now.

Arthit leaned forward until their noses were only a few millimeters apart. Warm breath brushed against his tingling lips. "Kong," he whispered, "You don't have to be jealous."

"I'm not—"

He cut him off with a kiss. Adrenaline, hot like fire, pulsed through his body, sending waves of heat radiating throughout his body. Like last night, he wanted more of Kongpob, more of his love and affection, more of his caresses and touches, and more of that shameless voice that had sent him over the edge once before.

This is so much better, he thought as Kongpob briefly deepened the kiss, his tongue darting inside Arthit's mouth for a few seconds before he broke away, panting softly.