Phana discovers the extent of Wayo’s ticklishness by accident when he’s fixing the boy’s stretched out collar. The worn-out tee keeps slipping down and Pha, sick of the eyes that follow the line of Wayo’s exposed shoulder and the smooth, soft-looking skin there, pulls it back up for the fourth time that morning.

Just to tease Yo a little, he drops a kiss on the shoulder blade just before he pulls the shirt up. He’s not expecting the little squeak—like a mouse being stepped on—nor the reflexive twitch that comes from the boy.

“Nong Yo?” Pha raises an eyebrow when Yo’s ears go pink as they’re wont to do when he’s silently dying of embarrassment. He won’t look the older student in the eye, focusing instead somewhere over his shoulder.

“It’s nothing. Just a little ticklish,” Wayo bites out, and his gaze slides to Pha and away again like Pha will decipher the truth from his eyes if he’s not careful.

“Ticklish,” Pha says, mulling over the word, before he runs his finger under Yo’s shirt over the same area he just kissed. Yo shivers slightly but the reaction is noticeably tamer than the prior one. Slowly, a wonderous idea starts forming in Pha’s head.

“P’Pha?” Wayo looks over his shoulder at him, wide eyes questioning. “Why are you smiling like that? It’s kind of scary.”

“I don’t smile often,” Pha reminds him.

Yo blinks. “I know.”

“It’s because of you.”

“I know,” Yo repeats dutifully and then asks, “But what did I do to make you smile this time?”

Pha smiles gently at him. “Exist.”

“Barf,” Wayo says, but his expression goes light in that way it does when he’s happy—it’s beautiful. Pha can’t help himself.

He pulls down the back of Wayo’s shirt and kisses him again, more firmly than he did before, right in the center of Yo’s shoulder blades, in the dip of his spine. As he expected, Yo squeaks again and nearly jumps in place. He tears away from Pha and spins around.

“I told you I’m ticklish!” Yo yells, holding his backpack in front of him in a makeshift shield. He’s flushed all over, from his face down to the collar of his shirt. It figures Yo would be a full-body blusher, Pha thinks wryly.

Pha glances at a couple of girls giggling as they stroll past. He’s going to have to continue this later, when there are less eyes around.

“Sorry, Yo,” Pha says, keeping his tone low and soothing, “I was just testing a hypothesis.”

Yo’s nose scrunches up in confusion and Pha has to hold back the urge to melt at the cuteness. “Y-you can’t test your hypothesis in a less erted way?”

“Not really, no,” Pha says, smirking when Wayo glares at him. It’s so fun to .

Eventually and with many assurances from Pha that he won’t do anything erted again—at least for now, Pha thinks—Wayo lowers his backpack shield and they continue on their way to school. Even so, he spends the rest of the walk eyeing Pha warily and keeping a good arms-length distance between them.

Pha would be more disgruntled if it weren’t so funny. Plus, he’ll have plenty of time to experiment with Yo’s “ticklish” side later.

.

.

“Ah—ah, P!” Yo shudders all over, sheets clenched in his fists, into the bed. Just as Pha thought, he’s flushed all over, like that pink milk he loves so much. It’s adorable.

“I’m not even doing anything,” Pha says, laughter in his voice. “I’m just kissing you.”

“B-but you’re kissing me in w-weird places!”

“Like where? Here?” Pha drops another kiss against the back of Yo’s neck, making him squeal again.

Pha had timed his attack right after Yo’s shower so that he would be able to get the boy in just his towel. Yo really is ticklish, like he stated, but only, it appears, with kisses. Pha is likely the luckiest bastard in the entire world.

He drops kisses down the line of Yo’s spine, and spreads more around his lower back, focusing especially on the dimples above the boy’s . By the way Wayo’s twitching and continuously into the sheets, you would assume that Pha is doing something much more lascivious, but he’s just kissing.

He presses an especially long and firm kiss over a mole on Yo’s back as he rubs the boy’s pudgy little love handles with his thumbs. He’s so soft and fair all over, Pha is probably ruined for other bodies now.

“P’Pha,” Yo says in a thick voice like he’s holding back a sob, and Pha raises his head in alarm. He swiftly turns Yo over, searching the younger boy’s face. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Did I hurt you?”

“It’s too much.” Yo covers his face like he’s about to cry, but when Pha gently tugs his hands away, he’s alright, if a bit teary-eyed. To Pha’s surprise, Yo glares at him through soaked lashes and shoves at his chest, making him fall back on his elbows on the bed.

“What are you doing?” Yo nearly yells. Oh yes, the rest of the dorm is probably getting a hell of a show tonight.

Pha struggles to find his tongue. “I was just kissing—”

A pillow smacks him straight in the face, cutting off the rest of his words. He pulls it off sputtering.

“Nong Yo—”

“Stop teasing me!” Pha looks at Yo who looks truly upset, still not crying, but huffing like he’s holding back tears. He’s also hunching a bit, curled in on himself in a way that is distantly familiar, and it’s finally then that realization strikes Pha like a thunderbolt.

Wayo is aroused.

He seems to notice that Pha has realized it and hunches over further to hide the tented front of his towel. His expression says he’d rather be anywhere but here.

“Nong Yo…,” Pha breathes, feeling his own blood rush as arousal hits him hard. Luckiest person in the world, he thinks again and reaches out to pull Wayo closer by the arm.

“P’Pha,” Yo gasps as Pha reaches down for the towel.

“Just-just stay still,” Pha orders, and damn if his mouth isn’t already watering. “I’m going to give you another kiss, but you need to stay still, alright?”

"P—" Yo tries to back away, but he doesn't get far with Pha gripping his hips. 

"Shhhh," the senior moon says soothingly, "Trust me." Then he leans down and does exactly what he said he would, and whatever Yo tries to say in response is lost in a garbled shriek.

By the end of it, Yo has practically torn out all of Pha's hair from tugging at it so much, but Pha can’t seem to find a of regret in himself.