Study dates and stolen glances
The library smelled of polished wood and aged books. Shelves towered in rows overhead, and the soft hum of air conditioning mixed with the soft whisper of pages. Fah sat cross-legged on the floor beside a table stacked high with schematics, his laptop open, textbooks spread around him like sentinels.
Tawan came back a second later, his arms stacked with a heap of medical journals. He collapsed beside Fah with a drama-queen sigh.
"You know," Tawan informed him, "normal people would just relax at a table like normal humans. Not here, on the floor like some kind of secret op."
"We need room," Fah muttered, swatting at a pile of wires. "And silence.".
Tawan leaned in under the pretext of examining Fah's laptop screen. "Space, huh?" His shoulder brushed against Fah's, deliberate, electric.
Fah stiffened, every nerve ablaze. "Don't… " he started, but Tawan's hand brushed against his, resting just lightly over his own.
"Don't what?" Tawan breathed, eyes glinting with teasing. "Tell me you don't like it."
Fah's face burned. "I… I'm trying to focus."
Tawan laughed, but affection was in it. "Right. Focus."
And still, focus was impossible. When Fah went to reach for a notebook, Tawan leaned in; when he typed, Tawan's fingers brushed against his. Every touch, slight but charged, was a reminder that they were alone, and alone didn't mean quiet—it meant secretly thrilling.
---
Hours passed in a blend of work and quiet play. Tawan whispered corrections in Fah's ear, words so close that Fah's pulse thumped erratically. And when Fah looked up to protest, Tawan's lips were there, just brushing, teasing, before he pulled back with a wicked smirk.
"You're going to get us caught," Fah said, though his voice was weak.
"And if we do?" Tawan answered, leaning forward so their knees touched under the table. "Maybe that's worth it."
Fah groaned, covering his face with his hands. "You're impossible."
"And yet," Tawan said quietly, "you keep smiling at me."
Fah looked up, caught Tawan's gaze, and his resolve melted. He leaned in by reflex, claiming Tawan's lips in a stolen kiss. Brief, wary—yet all the tension they'd been building in hiding flowed through it.
Tawan made a sound against his mouth, holding the kiss for a second longer before pulling back, eyes shining with triumph. "There. Now you're officially addicted."
"Addicted to you, you mean," Fah muttered, heart racing.
Tawan grinned. "Exactly."
The silence of the library enveloped them. Nobody passed by. Nobody saw. And yet, every second they stood there like that—mouths together, hands touching, whispers shared—felt like standing on the edge of something thrilling, something dangerous, and something entirely their own.
When they finally parted from each other, Fah moved back against the table, panting and flushed. "We should—study. Yeah."
"Okay," Tawan said, smiling as he went for a diary. But the glint in his eye betrayed him. He was not interested in studying anymore.
Neither was Fah.