Police Lieutenant Chatchai was about to sink into his chair when Sergeant Somboon strode briskly forward, snapping to attention with a crisp salute.
"Sir, we have two back-to-back accidents near each other on Watcharapol Alley. Your immediate presence is requested, sir. The car owner has connections—one stone, four birds with this case, sir." Sergeant Somboon delivered his report with his usual theatrical flair.
"The car owner specifically requested me, Sergeant?"
"Yes sir. The report indicates a BMW Sport, license plate SS6969, rear-ended, sir."
Chatchai bolted upright. "P'Tongrob."
"The very same, sir. Detective's orders came through our channels—he wants you there immediately. He mentioned something about catching a stubborn kid." Sergeant Somboon never once delivered a report without embellishment—always adding extra details.
After two years of working together, Chatchai had given up trying to correct his subordinate's behavior. He grabbed his daily logbook and hurried down from the station.
Sergeant Somboon followed, receiving orders as they walked. "Check on the first collision pair first—don't let them block traffic. I'll handle the Detective's case first. Oh, and why exactly did we bag four birds with one stone?"
"Two pairs collided, four people involved, sir. You're handling a single shift with a four-person case—a new record for this alley."
Chatchai shook his head and climbed into the vehicle.
Tongrob strolled casually toward the tiny car that had rear-ended his ride. The impact had crumpled the Honda Jazz's red-plated hood nearly to the windshield. The owner still sat inside, hands gripping the steering wheel, face pale with shock as he stared at the damage in disbelief.
Panuwat's hands trembled, his heart hammering against his ribs. Today marked his first venture onto major roads with the pristine new car his father had bought as a university entrance reward.
Now it sat motionless, its front end accordion-folded against the expensive sports car's rear. Fear of his father's wrath mingled with dread of the approaching car owner's threatening expression, and now police too. What a cursed day. This morning, before leaving home, his father had emphasized caution since he'd only been driving for a week.
Tongrob approached close enough to clearly see the car's owner—a good-looking young man trembling like a baby bird, probably not yet twenty. He tapped the windshield and nodded for the youth to step out for a conversation.
"So, what's it gonna be?" Tongrob planted his hands on his hips, spread his stance slightly, tilted his head, and fixed his expression into a stern mask.
The young man stepped from the car, face flustered, reasonably tall and slender, younger-looking than expected with narrow eyes, a sharp nose, red lips, and pale smooth cheeks. Exactly Tongrob's type.
The young officer froze momentarily. A handsome young man in university uniform—his knees were about to buckle. Whenever he encountered an attractive, innocent-looking guy, he practically melted.
But the cunning police officer forced himself to maintain his stern facade.
"You rear-ended my car—totally mangled, see? Are you drunk?"
"No sir, I'm not. I didn't drink, I just..." The young man stammered, gesturing nervously, his narrow eyes widening with fear.
"If you're not drunk, then how'd you crash? This isn't minor damage—it's completely destroyed. Do you have a license? Let me see it."
He circled closer. The young man glanced left and right in panic, still refusing to reach for his wallet.
"Don't tell me you're driving without a license. That's multiple violations. Might even find drugs tucked away in the car too." Tongrob threatened, moving close enough to make the young man look ready to cry.
Panuwat fumbled helplessly. He'd heard friends say police liked to plant drug charges, then drag suspects to the station for interrogation until they confessed.
"Not at all, sir."
"Detective. Use the proper word," Tongrob corrected.
"Yes, yes sir… um detective. My license is..." Panuwat stuttered, fishing through his pockets, hesitating whether to show his license for fear it might be confiscated.
His wallet wasn't in his pants. Where was it? Nervousness, fear, anxiety, and youth made him clumsy. The stern-faced officer's intense stare only increased his flustered state.
"Well, don't have one, eh? Acting suspicious, something's fishy here. Turn around, face the car, hands on the roof, spread your legs."
"Please, officer, I don't have drugs. I've never done anything like that, I..." Panuwat's eyes reddened, brow furrowed, terrified of false charges. Friends had warned him that police would pretend to search, then secretly slip small packages into pants or cars, pretending to discover them by chance, then demand money in exchange for not going to the station.
"Let me search you."
Tongrob placed his hands on the young man's shoulders, working down his sides as if searching for suspicious items, down to the waist.
Mmm, firm flesh hiding a nice shape, probably smooth and pale. That curved backside... Tongrob smiled inwardly. Just a little touch wouldn't hurt.
His hands brushed lightly down to both hips, then slid toward the inner thighs.
"Hey, officer!" The young man's voice protested. Tongrob startled, thinking the suspect was objecting to his overreach. His unauthorized mission complete, he straightened up, seeing Police Lieutenant Chatchai approaching.
Panuwat's face paled further at the sight of another officer approaching. What his friends had discussed in conversation seemed to be coming true, and it was happening to him at dusk like this.
"Nothing here. Alright, let's discuss damage compensation." Tongrob whispered near his ear, then walked around to greet the newcomer.
"Lieutenant Chatchao, this guy rear-ended my car. Admits fault, right?" Tongrob turned to ask the sullen young man standing by the vehicle.
The young student nodded slowly, accepting responsibility without a word.
"You probably scared him pale already. Don't know why you called me—I have another collision pair over there, just happened too." Chatchai gestured vaguely.
"Come on, you write it up so we can get going."
"You're that eager to leave?" Chatchai saw right through him. He nodded, calling the pale-faced young man closer.
"Let me see your license. You hit him and admit fault, right? Does the car have insurance?"
"Yes sir, but... um, my license..."
Tongrob sighed dramatically. "Still no license. Driving out here and crashing like this—straight to jail, Lieutenant."
"P'Tong," Chatchai intervened. The young man's face drained of color, stammering.
"I have it, sir, but I can't find it. I left my wallet... I can't find my wallet."
"Same old story. Can't find it means you don't have it. This requires arrest."
"P'Tong, enough. Have some sympathy for the kid." Chatchai shook his head and began writing his daily report. Panuwat looked down at the logbook the young duty officer was completing.
Tongrob secretly observed the smooth face, furrowed brow, tightly pressed lips, hands clasped respectfully in front. Truly adorable, innocent, clean, until he could barely contain himself, wanting to drag him to the car for 'interrogation' immediately.
"Give the Lieutenant your phone number—both mobile and home."
"Mobile only is sufficient, Detective," Chatchai interrupted.
"What about insurance? Do you know the insurance number?" Tongrob asked the young man.
"Yes sir, I know. I'll call them now. Lieutenant, I don't have to go to the station, right?"
Chatchai looked up at his brother as if reproaching him for intimidating the kid.
"No need. You've admitted fault, we can settle this. Just wait for insurance, then everyone can go their separate ways. Even though Detective is eager to catch suspects, he can probably wait with Panuwat for insurance, right?" Chatchai said pointedly, handing over the contact number to his brother, Tongrob.
"I need his address too, Lieutenant." Tongrob played innocent, ignoring his brother's sarcasm.
Both separated to move their vehicles to the roadside while waiting for the insurance agent en route. The soft-faced young man sat dejected by his car, gazing at the new vehicle with a mixture of regret and worry.
Tongrob noticed that Panuwat made only one call for insurance and didn't call again—not even to inform parents or friends.
He approached closer. The young man looked up, face still appearing shaken.
"Called your parents yet?"
"Um, not yet, sir." The young man answered softly, head down, staring at his shoes.
"Why not? A crash this bad, or are you afraid to tell them? Scared of getting scolded?"
Panuwat nodded without looking up at the stern-faced officer who had become gentle.
"Parents only scold a little, that's all. Don't worry too much. Insurance will fix everything—you won't pay a single baht. Or are you afraid they'll ban you from driving?" The young man nodded slightly. Tongrob paused before continuing. "Everyone has accidents like this when they're new to driving."
"My father went abroad on business this morning. I'm alone right now."
"How will you get home then? All your headlights are broken. You can't drive home in the dark—it's not safe, especially when you're not that experienced yet." Tongrob smiled with hidden meaning.
Panuwat shook his head, still unable to figure out what to do. He intended to wait for insurance first, then decide. Maybe call a friend for help, but he'd only been in college three days, just getting acquainted with new classmates—not close to anyone yet. Other friends from high school had scattered to different universities. Only four or five remained studying in Bangkok, all girls. Asking them to help with this would be awkward.
"Here's what we'll do. I'm not heartless, you know. I acted tough earlier because I was irritated about getting rear-ended." Tongrob began his plan, hand touching the handsome young man's shoulder.
"Driving like this is dangerous. Park the car at the police station first. I'll give you a ride home. Tomorrow morning you can pick it up and take it to the garage."
Panuwat looked up, spirits lifting somewhat. The shock, worry, and fear from the past half hour began fading. His composure returned. The police officer before him showed no threatening demeanor—his attitude wasn't as intimidating as initially feared.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't stop in time. I meant to hit the brake but..."
"Hit the accelerator instead, so my car became your brake." Tongrob smiled thinly.
Panuwat laughed softly, making a sheepish face. "Will your repairs be expensive? If it's too much, I probably can't afford it. I don't have money. Lucky my father's not here—if the garage rushes the job before he returns, he won't know. Can they finish within ten days?"
Sweet kid. Somehow dad will find out anyway, at year-end insurance renewal, premiums increase, and dad will check with the insurance company.
"Hmm, I'll help. My friend knows good garages around here. If you use a garage here, I'll have him rush it specially. Guaranteed finished before your father returns to Thailand."
The young man smiled broadly, eyes sparkling with hope for a solution. His previously gloomy face came alive. That smile blazed so bright and fresh that Tongrob felt light flickering around the roadside area, sparkling like a powerful smile, like Atid. The two young men swirling in his thoughts kept his mind from dimming.
"Thank you—you're so kind to help me, officer."
Tongrob smiled, raising his hand to embrace the younger man's shoulder. Very, younger...
Never mind, younger or not. All I know is it refreshes my heart like crazy. Not just helping—I'd even pick him up and drop him off, plus teach him to drive. With such an adorably appealing face, Tongrob never backs down.
"Tomorrow I'll take you to the garage. What time do you finish classes?" Tongrob smiled secretly, thinking: caught another 'suspect' for his new conquest.
***