At the break of dawn, when everything was enveloped in tranquility, the only sound was the steady rhythm of sports shoes striking the treadmill. On the console, the numbers displayed 6.23 KM, steadily increasing. The young man striving to meet his target was drenched in sweat, his face soaked, yet he showed no sign of stopping. His large hand simply grabbed a small towel to wipe away the sweat hastily before tossing it back in place.
At this moment, Tul was deep in thought... He was thinking about last night.
As soon as the faint image of the person who had almost taken their last breath flashed through his mind, his two hands clenched tightly together. His chest heaved harder than before.
He had almost killed Ai'Hin.
That thought made the flesh inside his chest pound rapidly—not from exhaustion, not from excitement, but from a profound fear that one day he might lose control and actually go through with it.
Tul had known for a while that he should see a doctor, that he should get his mental state evaluated. But with his status, the news could not be allowed to spread that Tul Metthanun was mentally unwell. Everything, therefore, had to fall on it... Kon Hin... the one person he refused to let leave his side.
The only person to whom he would reveal his true self.
The person who was still sound asleep on his bed. The moment he woke up, Tul had immediately moved to touch the tip of Kon Hin's nose, confirming that he was still breathing. He even wanted to wake him up so he could see those eyes open. But Tul knew he should let him rest—at least after the previous night, when his actions had been no different from those of a wild beast.
Yet there was one question Tul kept asking himself... Why did Hin endure it?
Because of what he gave him?
From childhood to adulthood, Kon Hin received an education no different from Tul’s. He attended schools with exorbitant tuition fees, despite being merely the child of a servant. This was because Tul had personally asked his father. Every time he earned an award, every time he brought recognition to the school or praise to the family, he never asked for anything except...
"Father, let Hin study with me."
He asked for only one thing: wherever he went, whatever he did, Kon Hin would always be there with him.
If it had been anyone else, Tul would have viewed it as a transaction. He gave, and the other served in return. After all, his entire life, Tul had never received anything out of genuine goodwill. He attended good schools because his grandmother, Khun Yaa, still cared about social reputation. No matter how much she despised him, she feared the gossip of her peers. Thus, he was required to repay her by maintaining excellent behavior and impeccable academic results; otherwise, there would be consequences.
Whatever he did, he had to be the best—enough to be "boastworthy"—only then would he have room to breathe.
Indulgence was foreign to Tul.
Giving without expecting anything in return was something Tul had never experienced.
Whenever he received something, he had to repay it in proportion to the investment; otherwise, he would be nothing but a defective product. It was this way of thinking that led Tul to view his closest confidant no differently. He gave Hin things because he needed Hin to keep his secrets.
Yet, at times, Tul knew deep down there was more to it than that.
Between him and Kon Hin, over a decade of being together had forged something beyond a mere master-servant relationship. Though he was reluctant to admit it, Kon Hin was the one who kept him tethered to a semblance of humanity.
At the very least, Kon Hin reminded him what it felt like to care for someone.
Even if his parents were to die before his very eyes, Tul would likely feel nothing. But if that person were someone close to him...
What the hell am I thinking? Tul silenced the thought, dismissing it entirely. He did not need weakness. Anything that made him weak, he would eliminate completely.
"Because it is useful," the young man concluded to himself. After all, he did not expect anything from Kon Hin solely related to the bedroom. Whatever he could do, Hin had to be able to do as well, serving as a crucial force in ensuring the Mesathanun legacy remained firmly within his grasp.
This was the mindset of the man who stopped the treadmill, grabbed a towel to wipe away his sweat, and then...
Tul reached for the phone resting in front of the machine. Without looking, he already knew who would be calling this early in the morning.
"What's up, you damned troublemaker?"
"Hey! Don’t call me a damned troublemaker!"
"Then what should I call you, meddlesome one?"
Tul smirked when the spoiled child on the other end fell silent, signaling... He was sulking.
"Well? What is it, Tinn? If you don't speak, I'll hang up now."
"Much better."
Once Tinn was addressed properly, the voice on the other end brightened, immediately cutting to the chase.
"P’Tul, tell Father to send me some money, won’t you?"
The man furrowed his brow but only briefly before letting out a laugh.
"You're only thirteen and already spending beyond your means, huh, Tinn?"
"Father and Mother already use money to raise me anyway. Asking for a bit more won’t hurt them."
The younger half-brother replied in a frustrated tone, revealing just how upset he was with the people being discussed. Tul, playing his part as the responsible older brother, responded in a deep voice, slightly scolding.
"But I’m not raising you with money, Tinn."
Letting him know that there was only one person who truly cared for him.
"I never said anything bad about you, P’Tul… But still, you never come to see me, anyway."
Realizing his brother was displeased, Tinn softened his tone, slipping into a gentle, pleading voice he would never use with their father or mother.
Tinn was attached to Tul alone, respected only him, and followed only the path Tul had laid out for him.
"Don’t sulk, you meddlesome one. I’ve been trying to find time to visit, but don’t forget, I have classes too."
Tul knew his younger brother was upset, so he feigned a sigh and an indulgent tone asking.
"How much more do you want? I’ll see if I can ask for it."
The other end immediately named an amount, prompting Tul to fake a tone of reluctance but ultimately agree. Before cutting the call—aware the boy likely wanted to talk longer—Tul made sure to leave a parting remark.
"To be clear, even if I cannot visit you, you know, right, just how much I miss you?”
"Don’t talk as if I am a child!"
“All right, not a child then,” Tul replied, his voice laced with laughter. “Well, I’ll hang up now.”
"Wait, P’Tul!"
“Hm?” The man smiled knowingly, already predicting what the person on the other end would say.
"I... I miss you too, P’Tul."
The younger brother said that before hanging up, leaving the man, who had just finished exercising, almost laughing—not out of fondness but because it satisfied him.
Even though Tinn had been raised entirely differently from Tul—getting everything he wanted, doing whatever he pleased without reprimand, having endless funds, and being the sole heir recognized by the family—Tul never once showed opposition or resentment toward his younger brother. On the contrary, he supported everything, gave everything Tinn desired, fulfilled every request, and encouraged Tinn to grow up spoiled and indifferent to others’ opinions, yet obedient only to him.
Thus, Tinn was no different from a puppet that moved at the flick of Tul’s fingers.
Everything unfolded exactly as Tul intended because the people in this household did not care about their own child anyway.
Tul became the sole refuge, the only family, and The Everything for his younger brother. He did so to ensure that Tinn would be a pawn reserved for future use, even though, at times, the young man… He had to shake off the foolish thought that whenever he heard the sound of that damned troublemaker dependently whining at him, it would surprisingly put him in a good mood.
And it was enough to make him stop by the head cook's quarters before heading back to his own room.
“Auntie Klin, do you have any ointment for bruises?”
“P’Tul, is something wrong?” Auntie Klin stepped in and grabbed his arm, sweeping her gaze from head to toe, asking in a tone of concern, as the young man answered softly.
“I bumped into the table leg, Auntie.” He then gave a pitiful smile that made the mother of Kon Hin smile fondly in return.
“Oh, P’Tul, be careful next time! Wait a moment, I’ll get the medicine for you.”
Once he had the ointment, Tul declined Auntie Klin’s offer to apply it for him and instead walked back to his bedroom holding the tube of medicine. The one who needed the medicine was not him. It was someone else, and his heart told him to care, even though his mind forced him to think otherwise.
~~~
“Are you awake?”
Gasp!
“Yes, P’Tul. I’m sorry for waking up late.”
When he returned to the room, the sunlight streamed in, revealing that the person who had been fast asleep when he left had already gone to the small house to shower and change. The bed, which had been stained, was now tidied up, with fresh sheets spread over it in place of the old ones.
Kon Hin smiled awkwardly, but the mixed-heritage young man’s gaze was fixed on the student uniform.
Kon Hin’s shirt was buttoned at the top, and the necktie was tied perfectly according to the rules, which made Tul stop right in front of him.
“Let me see it.”
The listener froze immediately when the tips of Tul’s fingers brushed his neck, almost causing him to clutch his shirt collar, but Kon Hin stopped his hand in time. It was impossible for Tul not to notice this.
“I’m fine, really.” Kon Hin insisted, trying to avoid the laundry basket, intending to quickly carry it downstairs. But...
Snatch!
“Between me taking it off or you doing it yourself, which would you choose?”
The owner of the room firmly grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, leaving Kon Hin stunned, unsure of how to respond because this wasn’t a question; it was an order. Pathapee, who didn’t want the other party to see, slowly placed the laundry basket down.
“I...” Kon Hin could only say that much before falling silent, because the beautiful eyes were still focused on him. Tul slowly removed the necktie from his neck, and it wasn’t quick enough to satisfy the observer. The mixed-heritage young man reached up and unbuttoned the top button swiftly, causing Kon Hin to lower his gaze and look at the floor.
As soon as Hin's neck was visible, Tul froze.
A large bruise surrounded Kon Hin’s neck, with marks that looked like fingerprints, standing out on his skin, and it wasn’t the red mark from last night; it was a dark purple, terrifyingly vivid.
It now looked so serious that Tul had to touch it gently, speechless for a moment, before finally asking,
"Does it hurt a lot?" Tul’s voice was tinged with his feeling of being in the wrong.
"No, it's fine." Kon Hin quickly denied it.
Even though he got that response, Tul didn’t believe him. From the look in his eyes, it was clear that it must hurt. The person who shouldn’t be affected flinched as his fingertips gently traced the bruise before looking up at the face that had lowered to the floor.
"You don’t need to go to class today."
"No, I’m going, Khun Tul!" As soon as the command was given, Kon Hin immediately protested, shaking his head vigorously, accidentally looking up to meet the eyes of the speaker, who was serious.
"Today, you should stay home."
Even though the listener could feel the concern in the words, Kon Hin couldn’t accept them. Part of him didn’t want the other person to be alone after what happened yesterday, and another part didn’t want to be left behind, all alone.
As the Chao-nai walked forward determinedly, Kon Hin had no choice but to keep up.
Even though skipping one day of school seemed insignificant, if Kon Hin stopped trying at any point, the distance between him and Khun Tul would only grow wider.
If Tul wondered whether Kon Hin endured everything because he wanted to repay the care he received, the answer was that Kon Hin tried to keep up with his Chao-nai, pushing himself to have the opportunity to witness the same views, because what he really wanted was to be useful to this person above all else.
While Tul had viewed Kon Hin as a key player in his pursuit of profit or loss, Pathapee had aimed to be of benefit without expecting anything in return. No, no one truly expected nothing in return. The only thing this servant’s child had ever desired was... to remain by his side.
If the role of a bed partner were to come to an end, at the very least, Kon Hin would still find another way to be of use to this man.
"Please let me go to class. Otherwise, people might grow suspicious," he said.
Tul looked at him as though urging him to continue speaking, prompting the one making the request to hurriedly explain his reasoning.
"Yesterday, I was perfectly fine. If I suddenly skip class, it will raise questions. If anyone hears that I’m sick, my mother or others might notice the marks on my neck. It’s better for me to go to class and wear a tie properly. I’m really fine, Khun Tul."
The speaker felt slightly more at ease upon noticing Tul’s hint of agreement and quickly raised his hand to button his shirt. But...
"Come here and apply the ointment first," Tul said, revealing he had brought along a tube of medicine.
"Thank you. I’ll apply it..."
"Tilt your neck."
"Excuse me?"
"I told you to tilt your neck. Which part of that is unclear?"
Before he could reach out for the ointment, Tul’s firm voice interrupted. Kon Hin repeated the command, confused, only to flinch when the ointment was suddenly dabbed onto his neck. A large hand gently pushed his neck to the side, giving way for fingertips to softly apply the cream over the bruises.
The gentle, delicate touch, as though afraid of causing pain, had made the injured person clench his fists tightly, trying only to stare at his own feet. He hadn’t wanted his Chao-nai to know that... his heart was trembling.
The feelings he had tried to bury deep in his heart had revealed themselves through the redness of his cheeks.
Khun Tul touched him with the utmost gentleness, his golden-brown eyes somber, his face etched with tension. Kon Hin could not hold his gaze for long because, if he did, his heart might start to misinterpret the situation. Wrongly. The silence enveloped them both, but for Kon Hin, it was a silence in which the sound of his heartbeat was deafening.
Snap.
Suddenly, Tul raised his hand to encircle Kon Hin’s neck, pulling him into an embrace and resting his head against his temple. The abrupt action made Kon Hin flinch.
The silence stretched for a long moment before Tul spoke in a trembling voice.
“You are not allowed to die.”
The action left the recipient frozen at first, but then he leaned into the embrace and responded with firm resolve.
“I won’t die so easily, Khun Tul.”
I have sworn that I will stay by your side until the very last breath of my life.
If he could ask God for one thing, Kon Hin would ask only that he not die first because he did not wish for this man to live alone. Even if living meant enduring suffering, he would accept the pain to its fullest extent.
His answer left the listener silent for a moment before Tul pulled back to look at him. With delicate movements, he reached out to button Kon Hin’s shirt. And then...
“Khun Tul!”
The sharp, handsome face leaned down to press a kiss against the collar of his student uniform. The touch lingered for a moment before Tul pulled back, his eyes meeting Kon Hin’s confused gaze.
“Remember that you are important to me.”
Even if it was a lie, Kon Hin chose to believe it with all his heart, while the one who spoke the words didn’t even understand what feelings had prompted him to say them.
~~~
“Oh wow, do you think Thailand is in the North Pole or what?”
“Sasorob.”
“My name is Nakrob, not Sasorob. Call me correctly, Khun Kon Hin.”
[[Translator’s note: สัสรบ here is both an insult and a play on words related to Rob’s full name Nakrob (Warrior). It could be translated to Bloody Fucking Warrior. It is in response to Rob’s suggestion that Hin wearing his shirt buttoned up is due to the cold of the North Pole.]]
Pathapee could only shake his head. As soon as he stepped into the lecture hall, the tall, broad-shouldered Nakrob had yelled out a teasing comment, drawing laughter from several classmates. Well, it made sense. They were in their fourth year, yet Kon Hin dressed so perfectly in line with regulations that it was indistinguishable from a first-year freshman. It was admittedly odd.
“You’re starting the day by being annoying, huh?” Kon Hin tossed his bag onto the table, narrowly missing Nakrob’s face.
“How exactly am I annoying you? And where is that high-and-mighty Chao-nai of yours?” His close friend chuckled softly and shifted to make room, while Kon Hin adjusted his collar higher before replying.
“He went to see a professor. Said something about being called in to discuss an activity.”
“I really wonder if he ever gets a chance to breathe. One moment it’s this person calling him, and the next it’s that person.” Nakrob muttered casually, as someone who had seen his friend running around managing things since their first year. It was no surprise that by the end of their third year, Tul had been elected with an overwhelming majority, earning the trust of both professors and the previous committee members.
The question left Kon Hin letting out a long sigh.
"If possible, I want to do it instead and let you, P'Tul, rest for once as well."
"Here we go again, you bloody loyal slave."
Kon Hin felt like he might scowl when the big-muscled guy beside him called him by the nickname he had given, but since it was the truth, it was hard to retort. He could only shake his head slightly.
"Yeah, I'm a slave. If I don’t worry about my Chao-nai, who should I worry about?"
"Worry about yourself, damn it."
Thud.
Suddenly, the young man felt something in the easy-going tone of his friend, causing him to turn and meet his gaze. He saw that the one who liked others to think his brain was all muscles was looking at him seriously.
His eyes were intense. Although his mouth smiled and his voice remained playful, it didn’t reach his eyes.
Ai’Rob was serious.
"Your life is too tied to Ai'Tul, you know? Fine, you might say your house, your family, and your lineage owe the deepest gratitude to your Chao-khun Poo, but what era are we in now? People need breaks from work, damn it. I invited you somewhere, but you wouldn’t go. You only say you have to work for your Chao-nai. I’m really worried about you. You’re educated and everything, but are you really going to be his servant for your whole life?"
Even though Nakrob's words were harsh, it was the harsh reality for Kon Hin. The listener sighed and turned his face away.
"Ai'Rob, the one who raised my family is Khun-Tul, not Chao-khun Poo. And you don’t understand."
"Oh My God! What don’t I understand? Come on, explain it to Ai'Rob."
When his friend prodded, the sharp-featured young man’s response was to remain silent and pull up his textbook as if to end the conversation. He rolled his eyes at the suggestion that his friend should live like an ordinary student.
Should’ve known, right? How many years has it been, Ai'Rob? Ai'Hin isn’t the type to give in.
"Yeah, whatever. I talk too much. Soon Ai'Tul will glare at me again for stirring up his subordinates." As mentioned, Nakrob wasn't one to use his brain for blocking out things. This big guy had seen a lot over the years, including the gaze of the ever-complimented, perfect gentleman.
Ai'Tul had more to him than just being a perfect gentleman. At the very least, it was the look he gave when he was near Ai'Hin. Rob still couldn’t figure out what that look really meant.
"Never mind, never mind, I won’t talk about it. Anyway, do you remember Nong Rose, the second-year?"
"Who?" Once Nakrob changed the subject, Kon Hin turned back to talk.
"Nong Rose, the girl with short hair, looking all confident, second year. Come on, anyone who saw her would remember her face. Her name’s prominent, she’s pretty, how could you not remember her?" Nakrob said, not believing his ears, while the person hearing it just frowned, feeling like there was nothing new to grasp.
"Stop talking about her looks, just tell me how you and I know her."
"She’s the one who came to the committee room, the friend of that little sister you were teaching. How could you not remember?"
Kon Hin thought back and vaguely recalled. The reason he didn’t remember was because that was the time when he had started hearing about Khun-than returning home, making him too preoccupied with worrying about Khun-Tul’s feelings to even look at anyone.
"Yeah, I remember now. Why?"
Nakrob grinned slyly and bumped his shoulder into Kon Hin’s.
"Nong, she’s interested in you."
Double-take!
The listener immediately froze, before... laughing.
"You’re not fooling me, Ai'Rob. No way." The young man said confidently that there was no way anyone could be interested in him, especially since everyone at the university already knew his status.
"Hey, I’m not joking. I’m serious," Nakrob said, looking annoyed.
"Then she doesn’t know that I’m just a servant."
"She knows. How could she not? Your business isn’t exactly a secret. Nong Jidrid told everyone about it," Nakrob continued, and as his tone grew serious, the listener turned to make eye contact again. This time, his sharp eyes began to show signs of concern.
"Do you want to meet her?" Nakrob, eager to act as a matchmaker, immediately continued when he saw Kon Hin remain silent. But...
"Meet who?"
Gasp!
Suddenly, Pathapee flinched as a bag appeared out of nowhere, placed between him and Nakrob. When he looked up, he found the handsome mixed-heritage young man smiling at him. He leaned in, putting an arm around Kon Hin's shoulder and one around Nakrob’s, looking left and right as if waiting for an answer.
Nakrob gave a lazy smile, shifting his position when Tul slapped him and shook his head.
"No."
"No, what are you talking about? I clearly heard you asking if Hin wanted to meet her." Tul asked, looking at his close friend.
He answered fully once more. "Oh, my dog."
"Dog?"
"Yeah, my Nong got a new puppy, so I asked Kon Hin if he wanted to see it," Nakrob said with a straightforward tone, completely unconcerned by Kon Hin’s uncomfortable expression, while looking at his mixed-heritage friend who slightly squinted his eyes and casually extended the invitation.
"You too. Want to meet the dog?"
Tul's smile showed that he knew why Nakrob had changed the subject, but he didn't object if they were going to talk about it.
"Sure, I like dogs. Take me to see it. Right, Hin? You like puppies too."
"Huh? Yes?"
Thud.
The one who felt like there was a weight on his back jumped in surprise as his elbow knocked into his bag, making it fall to the floor. He quickly answered the question.
"It's fine, Khun Tul. Go ahead and see it."
Kon Hin hastily bent down to pick up the bag, unwilling to risk showing his bruised state by going anywhere. Especially not to his friend’s house. He had no idea when Nakrob would barge in and yank his necktie off. But not going to a friend's house didn’t mean Nakrob was blind.
"What’s that mark on your neck, Hin?"
Nakrob pointed a finger at the back of Kon Hin’s neck as he was gathering his bag.
Heurk!
Pathapee could not suppress his own startled reaction when his close friend spoke to him, causing him to unintentionally swat his hand away and pull his shirt collar up in a suspicious manner.
"Nothing."
"Hey, I saw it. Let me have a clear look," Nakrob reached his hand out, intending to pull his friend's hand away.
Thump!
"Do you see me as some kind of fool, or what? Don’t cross me!" Tul quickly grabbed Nakrob's hand before he could pull it away, asking with a smile, though the grip on Nakrob's hand was tighter than necessary.
"Ugh, crossing a little, making a big fuss, huh, Ai Khun-chai?" Nakrob turned and said with a hint of irritation.
He pulled his hand back, allowing Kon Hin to breathe a bit easier and lower his hand, looking at the two who were still arguing.
"I’m not called Ai Khun-chai. I’m called Ai'Tul."
"Oh, so I’ve been mistaken all along, huh? I thought your name was just Tul. So, your name’s Ai'Ai-Tul?"
“Heh, I don't think that’s funny," Tul smiled mockingly.
"I wasn’t saying anything to make you laugh, you Ai'Tul."
The two young men stared each other down, neither willing to back off, even though it was an argument over something trivial. This made Kon Hin quietly sigh as the conversation drifted far off-topic. But his relief was short-lived, because Nakrob never forgot his purpose.
"Alright, so today we’re going to see the puppies at my place, right? You too, Ai’Kon Hin. No refusing, because I’m forcing you... Understand? Ai’Ai-Tul."
"Fine, you bloody fucking cur Nakrob." Although Tul replied casually, his eyes didn’t smile along, because it was clear that Nakrob was still fixated on Kon Hin’s neck.
Nakrob was no fool. He didn’t ask further, but it wasn’t because he had lost his curiosity.
And that made Tul more cautious than before.
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