21 (kitten)

Johan POV

“Why do you have a hickey on your chin?” Arthit asked again, his tone accusatory as he leaned across the table, scrutinizing me like I was hiding state secrets.

I sighed, setting my wine glass down with deliberate calm. “It’s North.”

Three reactions, immediately.

Tonfah raised his eyebrows. Hill exhaled like a weary older brother. Arthit groaned so dramatically it could’ve earned him an award.

“On your chin?” Arthit repeated, incredulous. “Is he… what, a vampire who missed?”

“He’s behaving like a kitten that grew teeth for the first time,” I said, keeping my tone level. “He keeps nibbling on me.”

That only made Tonfah wheeze, “Christ, I can see it. Johan—the ice wall—just sitting there while Nong chews him like a pomeranian.”

“I wasn’t just sitting there,” I said flatly.

Hil tilted his head, smirking. “So you let him.”

I gave him silence. Which, apparently, was enough of an answer.

Arthit groaned again, dragging his palm down his face. “You’ve lost all sense of dignity. What’s next, Johan? He’s going to leave bite marks on your forehead? Your nose?”

“Better than what you’ve got,” I said calmly, leaning back. “When was the last time someone even wanted to bite you, Arthit?”

Tonfah snickered loudly. Hill covered his smile with a hand.

Arthit froze, then pointed at me with wide eyes. “You—! You smug bastard. Did you just call me unwanted?”

“If the shoe fits the cindrella,” I replied, taking a slow sip of wine.

Tonfa snorted in his drink.

Hill just shook his head, amused. “He’s not wrong, Arthit.”

Arthit sputtered. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know I do get attention—”

“From who?” I cut in smoothly. “The old lady at the fruit stall? The one who gives you extra mangoes?”

Tonfah almost spit his drink again, choking with laughter. Hill tried—and failed—not to chuckle.

Arthit gaped at me, scandalized. “You—! You’re insufferable! This is why no one can stand talking to you for more than five minutes.”

I arched a brow. “And yet, here you are.”

That shut him up for a second. Hill whistled low. “Game, set, match. Johan wins.”

I allowed myself the faintest smirk. But before Arthit could fire back, my phone buzzed on the table.

Little brat.

His name lighting up my screen made something in my chest soften instantly, though I schooled my face before the others noticed.

I picked up. “Baby?.”

“Phi!” His voice was a little whiny, a little pouty—the way he always got when he missed me. “Where are you? You disappeared without telling me.”

My lips twitched. “I told you. I was meeting the guys.”

“You didn’t tell me when you’d be back,” he insisted, his voice small. “I’m… bored.”

I glanced up to find three pairs of eyes locked on me. Hill was smirking knowingly. Tonfah looked like he was enjoying this. Arthit, of course, was mouthing whipped dramatically.

I ignored them. “You ate already?”

“No,” North muttered. “I wanted to wait for you.”

Something in my chest tightened—warm, heavy. I let out a low hum. “Then I’ll be back soon. Don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting!” he said instantly, which only made it obvious that he was. Then, quieter,“Drive safe, okay?”

My lips curved, unseen by the others. “Always.”

When I hung up, the table was silent for exactly three seconds—before Hill broke it with a wolf whistle.

“That was disgustingly cute.”

“North’s turned you into a soft toy,” Arthit declared triumphantly, stabbing a finger at me. “A plushie! The great Johan, once feared, a fuckboy, now reduced to a boyfriend on a leash!”

I calmly reached for my wine again. “Funny. At least my leash is held by someone beautiful.”

Arthit looked like I’d just personally stabbed him. “You— you arrogant bastard!”

I sipped, unbothered.

But inside, I could still hear North’s voice echoing in my head. Soft, whiny, warm. Waiting for me. Missing me.

And even while my friends laughed and Arthit fumed, all I could think about was going back to him.

✿✿✿

North POV

I flopped down on my bed with a bag of chips, phone propped up on a stand as I logged into the game.

“Finally,” Nao’s voice crackled through my headset. “You’re always late, North. What took you so long?”

“Mmph—” I stuffed another handful of chips in my mouth before answering. “Johan went out. I was waiting.”

Nao sighed dramatically. “Again with P’Johan. You’re hopeless. Do you even breathe without him?”

I grinned, not even denying it. “Nope.”

“Ugh.” He groaned, but I could hear the smile in his voice. “Whatever. Just don’t feed me your lovesick rambling while we play. I’m here to win.”

“Cheater,” I muttered, because he always beat me, no matter what.

While the game loaded, I kept glancing at my phone screen, the one beside me. Johan’s name wasn’t lighting up again yet. He’d already called earlier, but it wasn’t enough. My chest felt too empty without him nearby.

“North, are you even paying attention?” Nao snapped. “You’re just standing there, staring at nothing. Move!”

“I am moving!” I protested, frantically mashing the controls. My character died instantly.

Nao howled with laughter. “Oh my god, you’re useless! Go back to cuddling your boyfriend!”

I pouted, reaching for another chip. “He’s not home yet.”

“You sound like a puppy waiting at the door.”

“Shut up.” But I was smiling, because it was true.

Every little sound in the house made my ears perk up. I kept imagining the click of the lock, Johan’s tall figure walking in, his calm face softening when he saw me.

My phone buzzed again.

I dropped my controller immediately, ignoring Nao’s indignant scream in my ear, and grabbed it.

(Hyperactive orangutan) On my way.

I grinned.

“North?!” Nao shouted. “Did you seriously abandon me mid-game?!”

“Sorry!” I laughed, rolling over on the bed, cheeks hurting from how wide I was smiling. “I’m logging out. My boyfriend’s coming home.”

Nao groaned so loud I had to pull the headset off. “I hate you. So much.”

But I was already off the game, tossing everything aside, too giddy to care.

The sound of the front door unlocking snapped me out of my bouncing restlessness.

He’s here.

I scrambled off the bed, nearly tripping over the headset cord I’d thrown aside earlier. My heart was already racing before Johan even stepped inside.

And then—he did.

Tall, broad-shouldered, the faint scent of smoke and whiskey clinging to him, his coat slung lazily over one arm. His hair was a little messier than usual, his expression calm… but the way his eyes immediately found me at the end of the hallway—that warmth, that steady focus—made my knees weak.

“Why are you grinning like that?” His voice was soft, curious.

I didn’t even answer. I ran to him, throwing myself against his chest. His arm caught me automatically, strong and steady, while the other hand set his coat aside.

“Missed you,” I mumbled into his shirt, breathing him in.

“I was only gone a few hours,” he murmured, but I felt the low chuckle in his chest, vibrating against my cheek. His hand slipped under my hair, cupping the back of my neck, keeping me pressed close.

“A few hours too long,” I pouted, tilting my head up.

His gaze dropped to my mouth immediately. I saw the shift, the flicker in his eyes—the calm surface breaking, letting me glimpse the hunger beneath.

Before he could say anything, I leaned up on my toes and caught his lips, quick and clumsy at first.

But Johan didn’t do quick.

He kissed me back slowly, deliberately, coaxing me open with the press of his mouth, teasing me until I melted against him. His tongue brushed mine, unhurried, tasting, savoring.

When I tried to nibble his lower lip—my new habit—his hand tightened at my waist, warning and promising all at once.

“You really are like a kitten with new teeth,” he whispered against my mouth, his breath warm.

I flushed. “Don’t you like it?”

He smirked, lips brushing mine. “I like everything you do. That’s the problem.”

He started guiding me backward, step by step, until my knees hit the edge of the bed. I tumbled onto it with a yelp, but Johan followed slowly, deliberately bracing himself above me. Not crushing me, but caging me in completely, his body heat seeping into mine.

“Johan—” I whispered, heart hammering.

He tilted his head, studying me like I was something fragile and precious. Then, his lips ghosted down my jaw, slow enough that every second stretched. He pressed kisses to the corner of my mouth, my chin, the line of my throat, lingering just enough to make me tremble.

“You’re impatient,” he murmured, lips brushing against my collarbone.

“You’re too slow,” I countered, but my voice was breathless, already betraying me.

His chuckle was dark this time, low in my ear. “If I go faster, you won’t survive the night.”

I shivered, gripping his shirt tighter, pulling him closer.

“I don’t care,” I whispered, almost a plea.