#we walk past each other in the engineering faculty and its like wow. you are nearly the antithesis of me how amazing

[musings-of-miss-j]

a group of architecture students was slaughtered and this was the loot

[yaehit]

do *you* miss my engineer and want to relive the c h a o s that was the show?

how about coming on down to ao3 to read my story i’m in trouble (oh i’m in trouble)?

summary: in which king takes interest in the new bus rider and learns not to judge a book by its cover.

alternative summary: where king's just trying to figure out his feelings in a slightly different but mayhaps more intense and realistic world

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chapter one: good guy

King has his head against the window as the bus pulls up to another stop, an AirPod pressed comfortably into one of his ears. To his left, his dearest (while admittedly at times most irritating) friend Bohn, gushes about some medical student that he saved from a lizard, and how he roped him into giving him a rose every day for a month. Honestly the whole thing feels so fictional, that he doesn’t bother listening. He nods politely at his words in an attempt to feign attention.

Bohn very much doesn’t buy it and slaps King’s arm. The gesture forces King to sit up and defend himself.

As he turns to look at his friend, something, well actually someone, catches his eye.

An unfamiliar, but oh wow, really attractive guy, walks onto the bus. He doesn’t look Thai, but it isn’t the only thing that catches what seems to be not just King’s attention. The aura he emanates simply attracts everyone. His dark hair is cleanly styled, and a dreamcatcher tattoo is inked below his left ear. Many of the passengers look towards the newcomer. However, a steely expression graces his strong features and repels anyone from approaching him.

Most importantly, to King at least, he’s wearing the same uniform as other juniors at his university. His eyes are the last to leave the newcomer; they follow him even after he’s passed by his row.

He has definitely never seen him before. He wouldn’t forget someone like that.

Another slap to his arm grounds him. He shoots what he hopes are very sharp and harmful daggers to his friend. They seem to be the equivalent of feathers because Bohn doesn’t waver.

“Did you see that guy?” King can’t help but mull, “He’s so pretty.”

Bohn squints at him. “Not as pretty as Duen.”

King rolls his eyes. He begs to disagree. Sure, he hasn’t really met this Duen guy but, a voice in his mind tells him that Bohn’s wrong.

So he says that. It earns him another slap unfortunately.

“Listen to me,” Bohn childishly whines

He begrudgingly does until they arrive at their school.

When the reach their customary table, Mek and Boss are already coddled up next to each other. The latter seems to be begging his “husband” to assist him with something. Tee is rushing to finish up his homework for his next class. King can’t help but crane his neck over to look at the worksheet.

“You used the wrong formula here,” he points out, “and there’s a computational error over there.”

Tee lets out a huff of frustration, but thanks him nonetheless. King starts to essentially dictate what to write on the page, not wanting his friend to lose any points in the class.

“Oooo, and who do we have here?”

King turns to look towards Boss, who is staring at Bohn. In front of his friend is an admittedly adorable guy, who he can only presume is Duen. The young man looks somewhat afraid. His dark, slightly curled hair is swept to one side. His features are soft and sweet, attractive in a very delicate way. A lab coat rests over his arm, blatantly decreeing his program. He timidly holds a red rose out to Bohn.

His friend takes it with a smile. He pats the younger’s head adoringly.

“This is Duen,” Bohn introduces to the rest of his friend group. Then he promptly wraps an arm around King. “This is King. The one frantically writing is Tee.” The said boy raises his free hand in a somewhat polite wave. While Bohn introduces the married couple, he turns to King and gestures for him to continue. Only after forcing the other to buy him lunch, does he resume explaining the answers to the questions. As Tee finalizes his answers, Boss announces that it’s time for class.

Bohn waves a small goodbye to Duen and the five seniors are off.

King matches his pace with Bohn. He can’t help but tell him that he’s definitely wrong. Sure, the medical student is cute, but the boy on the bus definitely registers higher on the attractiveness scale.

Throughout the day, he can’t help but keep one eye peeled open, hoping to maybe catch another glance of him.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t.

From that day on, Cool Boy (yes, King knows he’s very creative) steps onto the bus every day, and King can’t help but watch him. At some point, complaints have started coming from Bohn and not King. Part of him wants to ask the junior what faculty he’s in, if he can maybe get his number, and most ideally go out on a date. But also King is so sure that he doesn’t even speak Thai.

One day someone, a foreigner, runs onto the bus very confused, somewhat frantic. From what she says, King can only parse out the words “help” and “lost”. While he does know some English, he definitely isn’t the most fluent, which deters him from wanting to speak it.

As he observes no one stepping up to do anything, he is about to tell Bohn to step into the aisle so he can help her when someone walks briskly past him. Cool Boy. He says something in what sounds like perfect English, and the worry disappears from the woman’s face. After a few words, she gives him her phone, and he types out something.

And that makes him so much more attractive for reasons he cannot explain.

Bohn nudges him. “Why are you so red? You haven’t even talked to him.”

King presses the backs of his hands to his face. It’s warm to the touch.

“I don’t think I can,” King reasons. “I doubt he’d understand me even if I spoke to him.”

The look Bohn gives him tells him that he knows it’s an excuse.

“But look what he just did.”

“Maybe he’s just smart and knows two languages. He wouldn’t be going to school here if he didn’t understand Thai.”

King’s eyes narrow. His eyes follow Cool Boy as he passes by him.

“He could be in the international program for all I know and barely know Thai.”

“Could,” Bohn repeats, “But you don’t know for sure until you ask.”

While he doesn’t want to admit it, King knows that his friend is right. Instead of conceding, he requests that Bohn let him admire this man from afar. In peace.

Luckily for him, he’s able to see him a second time, but he seems to be focused on an odd task. Cool Boy has a plate of food, a mishmash of rice and meat set on the grass. A water bottle in one hand, he seems to be looking for something.

He’s probably trying to feed the campus cats.

King waters a nearby plant with the rest of his cup and approaches him.

“Here,” he says as he sticks the cup out towards him.

Cool Boy stares at him with a very neutral expression. King can’t help but admire him and his strong facial structure, long eyelashes, and perfect nose. He’s relieved once he takes the cup. While the younger fills it up, he pesters him, asking him for his name. Firsts he asks in Thai. When he gets no response, he defaults to English, regardless of how embarrassed he feels. He waits for an answer, only to hear silence. The younger’s only sign of acknowledgment is through his gaze, which has somehow become more intense. He has to will himself to not run away.

But that resolves hits the fan the moment the dog comes bumbling towards the plate.

King’s heart flutters a couple of days later when Cool Boy had walked onto the bus one particularly hot day. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows to reveal an intricate tattoo on his right forearm. While yes, he’s terrified of dogs, King can’t help but admire the ink on his skin. He very quickly latches onto Bohn’s arm, shaking it aggressively.

“Do you see that?” Bohn hums in acknowledgment. King finds himself repeating the statement slightly louder. The gesture was not appreciated.

He’s so inexplicably whipped. Cool Boy looks so put together and so handsome, and mysterious. And very much unapproachable. Maybe his attraction to him will stop when this illusion of perfection breaks.

King is wrong.

The next week, Cool Boy runs onto the bus frantically. Accompanying his loud steps is the fluttering of a piece of paper in his hand. Today, he isn’t put together, or that mysterious looking; his typical stony expression is replaced with panic and worry. Red colors his cheeks and King can hear how heavily he’s panting, even with the pen squeezed tightly between his teeth. His hair is unstyled, bangs hanging lightly over his forehead. His uniform’s tie rests loosely around his neck, and his shirt is buttoned wrong. He looks almost normal; the mistakes humanize him. King’s stomach flutters, but for different, more endearing reasons.

Oh. Is that another tattoo on his chest he sees?

“Oh wow. He’s really cute and hot at the same time. I don’t get it. How,” he turns to Bohn, “How is that even humanly possible?”

Bohn groans, somewhat frustrated next to him.

“Can you not for once?” King waves him off.

“Says you, hypocrite.”

When they reach the table, Duen is already there, a flower clasped in his hands, and next to him is an unfamiliar person. Bohn plucks away the rose and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s(? Bohn hasn’t officially asked him out but they act like boyfriends, and everyone is pushing him to finalize it, but he ignores them, as per usual) cheek.

“This is Phu,” Duen says, “He’s also in the engineering program.”

Phu slightly bows as a greeting and reaches out to shake everyone’s hands. Tee goes out of his way to firmly clasp the junior’s hand with both of his.

“Duen told me that King was really good at tutoring people,” Phu states, “And I was wondering if he could help me? I’m doing really badly in my physics class, and I seriously don’t know what else to do.”

King’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. He didn’t realize that Duen had been so observant. After the whole homework fiasco, he had begun helping Tee actually learn the information rather than using him as an answer key. The other engineering senior seemed grateful nonetheless, constantly praising him for his efforts. King always replied with it wasn’t him, but that Tee was making it all happen. He truly believed in what he said.

“Sure,” he replies.

“What about Ram?” Phu asks Duen, “I thought he was supposed to meet us here.”

The boy’s expression falls a little bit. “He didn’t finish his prelab last night and said he was gonna wake up earlier today to finish it. I guess he thought he could but then he slept through his alarm and didn’t bother setting up more. He’s probably trying to finish it right now.”

Phu laughs. “It’s what he gets for prioritizing his dogs over classwork.”

Duen shrugs but seems to agree.

Five pairs of eyes, including King’s, stare at the juniors expectantly.

“Ram is another engineering student, and my best friend,” Duen explains, “He also needs tutoring.”

King feels his sleeve being pulled next to him.

“I can tutor Phu,” Tee whispers, “and you can help Ram.”

Confusedly, King asks why.

“Just let me do this once please. And you get less work out of it.”

Tee does bring a good point. But King still doesn’t understand the motivation.

Someone pulls him backward. He looks up to be greeted by Mek’s upside-down face.

“Just let lover boy have his opportunity,” he simply states. Tee slaps their friend’s shoulder, telling him to stop, but there’s obviously no truth to his denial.

With a sly smile he nods.

“I think it would be better if we separated the tutoring. Phu can go with Tee,” King pulls Tee into a friendly headlock, “While he might not understand fluid dynamics, I can guarantee he knows everything up to,” he pauses and reads the title of Phu’s class according to the syllabus he gave him, “General Physics II.”

His friend escapes his grasp and snatches the paper out of his hand. He looks expectantly at the junior, nodding confidently. He hands his phone to him.

King doesn’t know if it’s his eyes tricking him, but as he takes Tee’s phone, Phu’s cheeks seem to turn a little bit red.

“And I’ll help Ram,” he concludes.

Duen grins brightly, an expression that bleeds onto Bohn’s face.

“I’ll tell him.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier for me to contact him?”

Duen sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “He doesn’t like having his phone number given out to people he doesn’t know? I’ll bring him around sometime.”

“Sounds good,” King agrees.

Today, King is alone on the bus. Bohn had caught a cold after jumping into a river in an attempt to save Duen’s sister. Things like this don’t happen in real life. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t doubt his friend’s account, especially seeing how whipped Bohn is for the medical student, but it feels unbelievable. He would have his AirPods in, but he hadn’t charged them or the case recently. They died after half a song.

He sits back in his regular seat. At his stop, Cool Boy steps onto the bus. His visuals never seem to fail him. How can someone be that attractive?

Someone waves a hand in front of his face. King, thrown out of his haze looks up.

It’s Cool Boy.

He gestures at the seat as if asking if it’s free. King nods.

When he sits down, nothing else happens.

Right now, he’s overwhelmed by how close he is, and the details of his perfection. Part of him wants to reach out and lightly trace over the tattoo with his finger, but he knows its weird and not socially acceptable to do so.

The ride to school is quiet and unnerving. He wishes that Bohn was sitting next to him, even if he wouldn’t shut up about his love life, and more recently how unexpectedly dysfunctional it’s become.

When they arrive at the stop, King feels like he lets go of a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in.

“You aren’t too bad yourself, you know.”

It’s quiet but in perfect Thai.

Before he can say anything else, Cool Boy has already departed.

Oh. He’s a fool. A very big fool.

He doesn’t bother recounting anything to his friends. They would actually clown him out of existence, and it’s the last thing he needs after a morning like this.

On his way to his regular spot, his phone rings in his pocket. It's Bohn.

“Feeling better?”

“He seems to be,” Duen replies.

“At least he’s not alone,” King says to mask his surprise.

The younger man chuckles.

“It’s the least I could do since it was my fault.”

“Bohn was probably being more childish than your sister. Was he pestering you to pay attention to him?”

Duen sighs. King can feel that he’s right.

“Don’t worry too much about it. He gets too jealous too easily.” King found himself getting pretty frustrated with his friend’s attitude. While sometimes Bohn had his points, Duen not always as pure as he seemed, the push and pull never seemed to end. It discredited the both of them, making King very confused.

After a bit of silence, Duen thanks him for his words. A part of King wants to criticize Duen a little bit, but then he remembers to consequences of upsetting the younger and immediately shuts himself up.

Apparently, the recent incident had made Duen so upset that his friends felt it necessary to intervene. While King thought it was a bit dramatic, they declared that after Bohn had completely recovered from his sickness, he would be subject to a series of trials to prove his love to Duen. It seemed childish until he heard that Ram had declared a boxing match with him. Ram, who was apparently a nationally ranked boxer.

He still hadn’t met Duen’s best friend, and he hopes never to.

Maybe he can slide out of this tutoring gig.

“I told Ram to meet you by your table really soon.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m not sure if I can do it anymore. You know with midterms coming up, I have a lot of final projects and studying to do.”

He hears slight murmurs. “Bohn says you wrapped all of your projects up yesterday. And that you don’t need to study.”

His free hand cards through his hair nervously. Of course Bohn would be honest.

“I don’t think he knows what he’s talking about,” King laughs a little, “The cold might be getting to his head.”

“What am I talking about?” Bohn exclaims, “What are you talking about? You were literally celebrating about being done with everything in our group chat last night. Plus, I don’t think you’ll be too unhappy with the arrangement.”

“Okay now you’re just being vague!” King replies equally as loud, “What are you even talking about? This man is threatening to pummel you into the ground, of course, I’m a little bit-”

King’s voice trails off as his eyes meet with the same ones as less than an hour ago.

And there’s nobody else.

He hangs up on his friend and ignores the vibrations in his hand.

“Are you Ram?”

Cool Boy, well more properly Ram, nods.

if you liked that blurb i have written much more (eight chapters to be precise)! come visit i promise i am v nice.