SOTUS: The Forgetful Boyfriend (And Other Oneshots)

Home Is Where The Heart Is [Arthit x Kongpob]

Note: Continuation of "Moving In". Hurrah for more domestic boyfriends!🙆🏻

x.x.x

Living together wasn't all the time smooth sailing. There were perks and downsides to it, half-squeezed toothpaste, morning dashes to the bathroom and banters of whose turn it was to make the coffee that morning.

Arthit learned that Kongpob was a man of routine. His alarm would blare at 5.30am every single day, he'd wash up and go for a quick run, shower, get dressed for work and then have breakfast.

For Arthit, it depended on his mood. If he was feeling grouchy, he'd make a beeline for the coffee first. Kongpob now realized why Arthit had to have five alarms set on his phone. Definitely not a morning person.

Other than all that, there was the warm feeling of knowing that they were returning to the same place after a day at work. The home-cooked dinners (thanks to Arthit), random game nights and well, they could pretty much do whatever the fuck they wanted.

Nothing could beat the comfort a home was capable of offering.

x.x.x

Arthit dipped the spoon into the mixed vegetable soup simmering on the stove and tasted it. Crap, he had gone overboard with the chilli. Again.

Despite years of being together, Kongpob's tolerance for spiciness was still low. Attempts to 'train' the male had been futile, especially since Kongpob had once suffered diarrhea after a particularly spicy soul-sucking tom yum soup Arthit had prepared.

He heard the jiggling of the keys and the twist of the lock, Kongpob's voice calling out after, "P'?"

"Kitchen." The older male anwered, checking on the seafood fried noodles in the cooker.

Kongpob appeared soon after, all immaculate in his pressed black pants and grey dress shirt despite having spent the last eight hours at work. How did he even manage it?

"Did you get the soya sauce?"

"Yep." The younger placed held up the plastic bag before placing it on the counter.

He wound his arms around Arthit's waist from behind, lightly nuzzling that one sensitive spot behind the older male's ear. Arthit squirmed, his concentration dipping.

"Kongpob, I'm cooking. So that we won't starve because someone can't even manage frying an egg."

His boyfriend simply tightened his grip, "I know. But I want my welcome home kiss, P."

"Help me set up the table and maybe I will." Arthit shot back, kind of regretting it when Kongpob loosened his hold to do just that.

They were so disgustingly domestic and Arthit (secretly) loved it.

The younger male spooned the rice into two separate bowls and carried it over to the living room along with the utensils. Arthit gave the soup another stir, reaching for the soya sauce.

Only to realize...

"Kongpob." Exasperated, Arthit held up the bottle. "I asked for light soya sauce. You bought dark soya sauce. What the hell am I supposed to do with this?"

Kongpob's answer was a sheepish grin, "Is there a difference? I mean...it's still soya sauce, right?"

Oh god, he had a total prince for a boyfriend.