AN : I gues I'm serving you guys enough, but yeah in this chapter you will find the answers of all the questions.

Hello silent readers Iam posting chapters everyday, so you can read everyday, show some love.

Kongpob wasn't even sure how he managed to get through his performance as he stepped off of the stage and disappeared into the back half of the establishment. He was shaken. He was nauseous. He was sure he'd never have to see Arthit again when he left school, but there he was; like the devil Kongpob knew him to be.

He told himself, repeatedly—like a broken record player—that he shouldn't worry himself. It was highly unlikely that the man even recognized Kongpob because Arthit never gave a shit about him in the first place. He had just been another fuck to Arthit, another fuck to use and abuse and then spread around school.

Arthit might've forgotten that horrible year, but Kongpob sure as hell hadn't.

It was in everything that he did and everything that he said. The events that made up Kongpob's junior year of high school were so deeply ingrained in his life that Kongpob was sure he'd never be rid of them. And all of it—all of it—started because he had a crush; a crush on Arthit Rojnapat.

"Hey! Hey, Weir!"

Kongpob paused, nearly cringing at the use of the shortened form of his stage name before he looked over his shoulder. His manager was hot on his trail with an excited expression on his face and a sheet of paper clutched in his hand. 

Somehow Kongpob managed to keep the excitement off of his features as he faced the man. "Yes?" He answered, resisting the urge to rip the paper clean out of the manager's hands because he knew what it was and it was something he'd been waiting for all evening, and dammit, he just wanted it so fucking badly that he could almost taste what was to come.

"Here's your after-hours schedule," the man replied, handing over the paper, and if he noticed Kongpob's eagerness, he never said anything. 

"You did well tonight, Weir. Your last ticket sold just before you went on stage."

Chocolate Brown eyes immediately regarded the paper, scanning over hastily scrawled names and their accompanying signatures before Kongpob sucked his lower lip into his mouth, he chewed on it before letting out a heavy sigh of relief. He recognized a few regulars' names and no one else. Arthit might've been there that night, but he wasn't interested in the after-hours. 

Kongpob looked up at his boss and gave the man a deviously sheepish smile. 

"That's got to be some kind of record, huh?" He teased but only received a laugh and a congratulatory pat on the back before he was reminded that he was due in the blue room at ten o'clock for his first client.

x x x

Ten o'clock came and went with his first client; a middle-aged regular who had been paying for Kongpob's time for the past few months. The man—his name Kongpob could never remember—had a wife, children, and a successful small business, but sometimes he just liked to fuck young men. Kongpob's client wasn't anything special, but he could get the job done at least and that was something Kongpob could appreciate, though he was glad to see him leave once the hour was up.

He had a precious few moments before his second client was due, and Kongpob wisely used that time to wash up and prepare himself for the next person who walked through his door. He was expecting another regular, though this man didn't visit him like he used to—busy with college or some excuse akin to that, but it didn't matter to Kongpob. He didn't care. The only thing he cared about was when his next client would be here.

Kongpob looked at the clock and anticipation built within him, it coiled through his being like a snake as he waited and waited. He counted down the minutes and then the seconds until his next session, and everything finally came to a head when he heard the soft jiggle of the door handle. 

Once again, he felt Kongpob slip away and Weir took his place. A smile, soft and seductive, appeared on his face as he turned to greet his client as the door opened.

 "Missed you—"

The words died in his throat, and panic replaced the anticipation. He had been expecting Tooth Fairy, a name his client had asked to be called, instead of Tutah, but that wasn't who walked through the door. He could hardly form a coherent thought much less talk through this paralyzing shock, but Arthit Rojnapat didn't look much better off. Kongpob knew disgust when he saw it and that's exactly what was painted on Arthit's ruggedly hard features, but for some reason, he didn't leave.

Instead, he stepped further into the room. Arthit was hesitant and probably wanted to bolt, but something kept him coming. Kongpob just didn't know what that was and wasn't sure he wanted to know as the door closed and Arthit's eyes found his own.

Kongpob couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't believe that this was happening. He thought he had gotten the shock of his life when he saw Arthit sitting in the audience during his performance, but this—this was completely unexpected and downright horrifying.

"I never thought..."

His voice broke the fragile silence and Kongpob found himself straining to listen, as the older man tumbled through his words. 

"I wouldn't have expected..." His voice was barely above a whisper and there was such a deep, heavy shock laced throughout his tone that it had Kongpob gasping for air.

"What are you doing here?"

The question jolted Kongpob out of his stupor and, for a moment, he was too surprised to answer the question bestowed upon him. But Arthit waited, looking downright sick with himself.

 "M-me?" Kongpob replied after a moment. 

"What am I doing here? What about you? What are you doing here?" He never knew his voice could carry so much venom, so much hate directed at another person.

The older man's eyes widened a fraction and, almost immediately after being called out, shame penetrated his features. The strong, handsome, charming bastard that Kongpob remembered suddenly looked like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He felt his lips start to curl, forming a devious little smirk as he took in Arthit's posture. He was nervous, embarrassed, flat-out ashamed to be here standing before Kongpob—and yet, here Arthit was and Kongpob couldn't figure out why.

"Oh, I see..." Kongpob said softly in a moment of realization, his tone dropping an octave as his smirk grew wider and more dangerous. He took a step closer, gauging the man's reaction before taking another step. He noticed the tension in Arthit's body, his muscles drew tight—as if anticipating a threat—with his jaw clenched and his hands clutched into fists at his sides as Kongpob approached. However, despite that, Arthit didn't back away.

Arthit was close enough to touch when Kongpob reached out, his fingers grasping the rough leather of the man's jacket before Kongpob tugged him forward. Kongpob bit his bottom lip, resisting the urge to explore the broad chest beneath his fists as he looked up at Arthit. His grin was slow and slightly devious as he watched the question flicker in Arthit's eyes before Kongpob leaned up. 

"You want to fuck me, don't you?" He whispered into Arthit's ear, delighting in the shiver that rushed through the younger man in response to his accusation.

Kongpob didn't even know if the accusation was true, though Arthit's reaction was telling enough. His hands came up, covering Kongpob's completely, and for a moment they didn't even move. Kongpob was beginning to wonder what Arthit was aiming to do when something seemed to snap within the younger man. Arthit's grip tightened before he tore Kongpob's hands from his jacket, holding them in his own as his body was raked with tremors.

"Not!" Arthit practically snarled before Kongpob wrenched his hands-free from Arthit's grasp, pushing the man away from him.

"Why?!" Kongpob demanded, his voice shaking with emotion as his eyes narrowed. "I was good enough for you to use in high school, why not now?!"

"I didn't have to pay for sex then and I'm not going to pay for it now."

Arthit's words were like a smack to Kongpob's face, he nearly staggered with the force of them. It took him a moment, but he regained himself in enough time to see something curious pass across Arthit's features. 

"Kongpob..." He said, stepping forward. "I didn't mean—!"

"You didn't pay for it now, either. Tutah did!" Kongpob spat in a fury as he pushed Arthit away from him. "It was his name on my list, not yours!"

"Tutah..." Arthit's voice was barely above a whisper, so soft that Kongpob almost missed the name that fell from Arthit's lips, but not the way it hardened his features. For a moment he didn't speak and Kongpob thought they had reached some sort of stalemate, but then he saw the look in Arthit's eyes. The look of understated rage.

"How long...how long has Tutah been coming to see you?"

Kongpob had almost answered, but he stopped himself with a soft snort before he looked away from the other man.

"That's none of your damned business," he replied stiffly.
"And if you don't have any business with me, I suggest you leave before I have you escorted out."

"You still didn't answer my question, Kongpob."

Kongpob looked up at Arthit, blinking as his lips curved into a deep frown.
"Yes, I did. I told you, my clientele is none of your fucking business..."

Arthit shook his head as he took another step closer to Kongpob, the man backing up all the while.

"No, why are you here?"

There was a pregnant pause, during which Kongpob could barely think. His head throbbed, his heart and body ached, and he just wanted it to be over. He wanted Arthit to leave, to disappear. But he still stood in front of him, waiting for an answer to a question he didn't deserve to ask.

"You used me," Kongpob started, his tone deceptively calm as he glared at Arthit.

"You made me think that you...that you loved me and then you fucked me, and your stupid friends took pictures of us and passed them around at school!"

His body was shaking as the memories rushed back, one right after the other. All of them piling in his mind after he had fought for so long to forget—to forget about the taunting emails and phone calls, the kids' laughter and name-calling, the Rojnapatspray-painted 'WHORE' across his locker, and finally being cornered in the bathroom by two jocks who wanted a taste of what Arthit got...even if they had to take it by force.

Kongpob was nearly hysterical as he got into Arthit's face, only held off by Arthit's hands grasping his upper arms to keep him away.
"You had no right to ask me that!" He exploded with fury. "No fucking right, Arthit!"

The rage left Kongpob and he deflated. He stepped out of Arthit's hold and turned away as his body started to shake, the tears finally breaking free to fall his cheeks. He didn't look over his shoulder when he heard the door open, nor did he say anything when he heard it close.

This was, after all, what he had wanted. Right? He wanted Arthit to leave, but now that he had the pain he had caused, nurtured, and pruned was still plaguing Kongpob. However, that was something he didn't think would ever go away.