“There’s porn. And the internet. And-- and friends, for that. I’m not a prostitute.”
“I’m not looking for a prostitute,” Punn replies.
Krathing stares. “Nong, I think you have the wrong guy.”
“P’Krathing, you don’t have to touch me. I promise. I just want to know,” Punn says, matter-of-factly.
Krathing hesitates. “Why do you want to know so badly?”
Punn shrugs. “What does it matter to you?”
“Look, I’m not just--”
“Fine,” Punn says with a huff. “I’m curious and I can’t ask anyone here. Please, P’Krathing?”
Krathing furrows his brows. “You know how to ask nicely?”
This earns him a roll of Punn’s eyes in response, but then Punn says, “Yes. So?”
Krathing should say no. He has every reason to say no, except for one: Much like Punn, he’s curious. He sighs. “What exactly would you want from me?”
Punn smiles at him. “Not too much. Don’t worry.”