Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
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Perspective - Third Person
The sky at this hour appears as if a dark velvet blanket has been unfurled over it, dotted with clusters of stars, both large and small. As a car turns into the estate of the Metthanun mansion and parks in front of the building, the young man behind the wheel steps out, holding a briefcase and a suit jacket gathered in his hand.
"Where's my son?"
"Khun-nu is at the other house, Khun-chai Tul."
"Hmm."
The brief conversation between the housekeeper and the eldest son breaks the silence as the half-Thai young man hands over his belongings for the housekeeper to take upstairs. Meanwhile, he loosens his tie. Even though he knows his son is with his wife at the twin mansion, his feet carry him instead toward the house of his father and stepmother.
"Tul, are you staying here tonight?" Tul pauses when he hears the voice of a woman in a nightgown. His expression quickly shifts into a smile.
"Yes, Khun Mother. I've got a ton of work to clear. If I go back, I'll only make Wadi worry unnecessarily."
"Oh? I've noticed you've been staying here more often lately. Is there something wrong?"
Shut your mouth already. Tul thinks to himself, yet his handsome face remains adorned with a gentle smile.
He looks at the lady of the house, who is about to retire for the night, and speaks with a warm tone. "There's nothing, Mom. Don't worry about me. I'm more concerned about you. It's so late—why aren't you in bed yet? If you fall ill, that would be a problem for all of us."
As he speaks, he steps toward his stepmother, gently supporting her shoulder as though to guide her to her room. She smiles widely, clearly pleased with the attentiveness of her stepson, who now holds more than half the power in this household.
"Tul, you're always such a good boy, unlike Tinn. Today, he brought a friend to stay over, but he didn't even bother introducing them to us. Does he even think about his parents anymore?" Her tone carries a clear note of reproach, causing the listener to smile inwardly with contempt, though he says nothing.
This woman is too clueless to know what's really happening in this house.
"My brother must be tired, Mom. Tinn bringing a friend to stay though... that's surprising." This part of the conversation piques his interest more, causing the woman to sigh, slightly irritated.
"Yes, I haven't seen them yet. I don't even know whose child it is, or what kind of friends he's keeping. I just hope history doesn't repeat itself... I'm so lucky to have you, Tul. You're the son I can rely on, aren't you?" The lady of the house turns to grasp her stepson's hand, speaking with love and affection.
Tul responds with a smile. "Yes, Mom, you can place your 'hope' on me."
He escorts her into her room, wishes her goodnight, and then turns away. His gentle expression shifts to one of cold indifference. She can hope all she wants, but he never promised her success.
As he heads back to his own room, he pauses at his younger brother's door, his sharp eyes reflecting deep thought.
"Heh," Tul smiles faintly and continues walking to his room, his expression unreadable to anyone who might wonder what this man intends to do next.
~~~
The morning sunlight streams upon the magnificent mansion, rendering it akin to a painting by a master artist. Meanwhile, dozens of workers commence their daily routines, giving the mansion a semblance of life. Yet, above on the eastern side of the building, within the room of the family's youngest Khun-chai, there exists only silence and the steady rhythm of breathing.
The room remains entirely dark due to heavy curtains blocking the light, allowing the person lying on the bed to remain deeply asleep from exhaustion.
Click.
However, the young man who owns the room, awake for some time due to his body's natural rhythm, steps out of the bathroom. A large towel draped over his head absorbs water as he dries his damp hair.
Thud.
Tinn sinks onto the bed, leaning over to observe the person still lying there, swallowing now and then in a manner that leaves him uncertain whether to call it unbecoming or endearing. Nonetheless, his lips curve into a captivating smile.
"I only want to sleep with you."
Though the words may sound vague to others, they might be the clearest this man can manage.
As the thought crosses his mind, a large hand brushes messy hair away from the sleeper's face. He peers through the darkness to see the one who groaned beneath him all night. Not that he refused to stop—it was the other who wouldn't. And the phrase that person had spoken countless times made Tinn shake his head yet again.
"You... more. I want it. It feels so bloody fucking good."
There is no romance in it, but... Tinn has already staked his claim.
"Ugh." That touch seems to stir Khaen, whose almond-shaped eyes blink open sluggishly, accompanied by faint, murmured sounds.
“Good morning,” Tinn greets, half-sitting, half-lying on the bed, clad in only trousers. One leg drapes over Khaen’s body in a manner that might make a woman blush madly. But for Khaen-ta-lup...
"Uh, yeah... morn—how did I end up here?"
Last night, he was certain no alcohol touched Khaen’s lips.
Sigh.
The man hoping to behave properly on this first morning after crossing the threshold of their relationship exhales deeply, watching Khaen shift slightly. But then...
Thud.
“Aaagh! Tinn! Tinn!” Khaen throws himself back onto the bed, screaming like a cow in a slaughterhouse, yanking the towel draped over Tinn's neck and shaking it violently. Tinn furrows his brows, pressing a hand to Khaen’s forehead as he tiredly asks:
“What now?”
The question prompts Khaen to bite his lip before softly replying, “I’m sore.”
The clarity and directness of the response make Tinn want to slap his forehead. Couldn’t he act cute, plead softly, or hint delicately to make it more bearable? But no. Khaen merely states it outright.
Khaen abruptly tosses off the blanket, revealing his bare body marked with faint love bites, then spreads his legs.
Yes, the almond-eyed young man spreads his legs, feeling around and grimacing.
“Tinn! Look at this for me. Is there blood? Damn, last night we had sex, didn’t we? It felt great at the time, but now I’m sore. Hurts like hell.”
By now, Tinn dangles his legs off the bed, clutching his temples.
"Hey, check for me first. Is there blood? It stings, Tinn," Khaen pesters, nudging persistently until Tinn glances at him—at this unbecoming sight.
The person spreading his limbs and showing everything cares only about whether he’s bleeding. Tinn shakes his head.
“There’s no blood. I checked last night. Now that you’re up, go shower.” Initially inclined to help Khaen to the bathroom, Tinn merely sighs heavily and speaks firmly, prompting Khaen to pout.
“Damn, Tinn. You were so into it last night, and now you’re just like, ‘Go shower.’ Wow.” Despite the grumbling, Khaen awkwardly gets up from the bed, muttering softly.
“But it’s not as bad as I thought. Guess that means you’re skilled,” Khaen says, dragging his feet to the bathroom, still naked, rubbing his sore bottom. Satisfied there’s no blood, he knows the soreness will pass. Before disappearing into the bathroom, though...
“Wait.”
“Hm?”
“Make love.”
“Huh?” Khaen looks back, puzzled, unsure what Tinn is saying. Tinn meets his gaze seriously and emphasizes,
“What I did with you was making love, not just sex. Understand the distinction.”
“What’s the difference?” Khaen isn’t clueless, but he calls it casually as most people do, indifferent to implications. Tinn stresses again:
“Sex is for sleeping buddies, but make love is for… lover.”
[[Translator Note: That sentence is in English in the original Thai text.]]
The tone and expression render Khaen’s face warm, the message sinking in despite his pretense of indifference.
“Fine, fine, I get it,” Khaen replies, spinning toward the bathroom. But...
“Wait.”
“What now?”
“Take that... with you.” Tinn refers to the neatly folded towel, which Khaen snatches before hastily retreating, feeling a mix of heat and unease under the gaze of his... lover?
Damn it all. Last night, his heart didn’t race as much as it does now, all from one simple sentence.
~~~
“Ai’Tinn, I have to ask you something, damn it.”
After leaving the bathroom and seeing that the enormous bedroom—so massive that combining his and Ai’Lemon’s rooms still wouldn’t amount to half of it—was now brightly lit because the curtains had been pulled back, Khaen comes over and sits at the edge of the bed. The pillows and blanket are now carelessly piled up there. Hesitating, he asks, unsure.
It wasn’t as though he went into the bathroom just to soak in the Jacuzzi for fun; he had been thinking too.
“What is it?” The person sitting and typing something on his laptop turns to meet his eyes. The almond-eyed man clears his throat a little.
“Just now, you called me… uh… lover… that, right?” Khaen-ta-lup asks uncertainly, because honestly, he himself wasn’t sure what to call what happened last night. Fine, he was the one who initiated things because he wanted to forget the frustration at losing he had been feeling. And yes, waking up, he does feel much better. But… What happens to us now?
However, that question only makes Tinn realize that… Khaen still doesn’t understand.
"Yes, lover, romantic partner, or Mia. Any of those are fine now."
“Don’t call me Mia!!! Hey, no way. That’s creepy!” Khaen responds immediately, causing the listener to laugh. Then Tinn walks over to the built-in wardrobe, pulls out a new t-shirt, pants, and underwear, estimating sizes Khaen might fit. He comes back to sit beside him and places the clothes on Khaen’s lap.
“I told you it was making love, didn’t I?”
Nod, nod, nod.
The Pheuak Monkey nods vigorously, just as Tinn asks in a serious tone.
“Are you ready to be my romantic partner now, Khaen?”
It isn’t “we are in a relationship now.” It is, “are you ready to be my romantic partner?” Because Tinn had already asked before, had already said he wanted to date Khaen. But Kirakorn had refused, saying no, let’s just be friends. And now? Is he ready to go beyond friendship? Yet the question leaves Khaen stunned.
“I’m sorry about last time,” says the one who knows he was at fault, lowering his head to look at the clothes in his lap.
“I’m not blaming you. And this time...” Tinn, taller than the other, looks straight into his eyes, making Khaen take a deep breath and lift his head.
“I’m not handsome, you know.”
"Got it."
“Damn it, stop answering like that.”
The listener wants to roll his eyes and wonders why Khaen has even brought this up. When Khaen's words get answers, he gets mad anyway, but he still continues.
“I’m not rich either.”
“I know.”
“Damn it, just nod, that’s enough!”
If this is about self-deprecation, Tinn doesn’t know what Khaen is trying to accomplish, but he nods as an answer, prompting Khaen to continue.
“I’m not good at studying either. I just scrape by.”
“And...”
“I’m not fit to be with a high-and-mighty Khun-chai like you.”
In the end, that’s the conclusion Khaen tries to convey. It makes the listener freeze for a moment, looking at the person who seems to think so little of himself but who is clearly thinking a good deal about being unworthy.
After a brief pause, Tinn smiles. “Do you really care about that?”
And just as quickly, Khaen replies...
“No, because I’m not here to leech off of you.”
The answer Tinn expected comes, making him laugh.
“Then know this: I don’t care about anything you just said. Because if I cared, I wouldn’t have been pestering you from the start.”
It’s a clear, direct statement that makes the boy named after a fruit smile. He feels the greatest sense of relief hearing that.
“So then...”
“So then...” Tinn mimics the drawn-out tone, even as his sharp face, which usually carries a cold expression, now looks happier than Khaen has ever seen it. And Khaen says...
“So then... we’re romantic partners now, you ill-mannered Ai’Khun-chai.”
“Mm, Khaen-ta-lup.” Tinn smiles, but the full name makes Khaen grimace.
“Don’t call me by my full name. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either.”
“Huh?” The listener lets out a confused sound as he gets up and starts dressing right there, not bothering to go into the bathroom. Why should he feel embarrassed? They’d seen everything last night, after all. Practically touched every inch. But he still wants an answer about what Tinn doesn’t like.
"I don’t like it when you swear."
“Huhhhh?” If human necks could twist further, Khaen, in the middle of pulling on his pants, might look like a headless ghost, letting out a loud noise of disbelief. He stares at the person lounging comfortably with his legs crossed, who repeats himself.
“I don’t like it when you call me ‘Ai’Sats’ or use any of your other colorful curses.”
When the Khun-chai lists out his dislikes, his freshly minted partner is left gaping.
“But I’ve been talking to you like this from the start! Why should I change? You want me to call you the formal ‘I’ and ‘you’ instead? That’s even creepier, don’t you think?” Khaen retorts.
What reason does he have to change how he speaks? Sure, Tinn has always spoken politely, but people who aren’t used to it just aren’t used to it.
“I’m not asking you to change how you address me, but please stop with the ‘Ai’ and all your grand collection of curses. You don’t need to use them with me.”
It’s true; Khaen could probably find a new insult every time he speaks. But Tinn doesn’t plan to listen to those either.
“Don’t act like a man with a beautiful worldview, alright? If you don’t curse in Thai, surely you’ve at least said something like fuck you, son of a bitch, bastard, or motherfucker, or something along those lines. It’s more or less the same thing, isn’t it? Sometimes I’m not even cursing—it just slips out of habit.” The person, unsure if he can control himself, tries to justify his behavior.
This causes the listener to roll his eyes. Apart from being an expert at Thai curses, it seems like Khaen is no less skilled in other languages as well.
[[Translator's Note: fuck you, son of a bitch, bastard, and motherfucker are all in English in the original Thai text.]]
“I might slip up,” Khaen says smiling, and if it weren’t for...
“But I’ve never slipped up on you. Can’t you just stop cursing at me?”
“It’s not that I can’t,” Khaen pouts.
Dressed in a dark T-shirt, he feels fortunate that there is only a small height difference between him and Tinn. Then he slumps back down to sit again, hissing softly in pain, and says in a quieter voice:
“I’ll try not to say it, but I can’t promise.”
“That’s good enough.” The listener is satisfied with this for now. Demanding too much, too soon might end their relationship, which has just begun. Meanwhile, Khaen falls silent for a moment, thinks it over, and then comes up with an idea.
“You don’t want me to refer to myself as ku, right? Then how about this... Ahem.” The Pheuak Monkey clears his throat slightly and smiles broadly.
“Tinn-khraabbb.”
Thud.
Tinn freezes instantly, staring at the person who is beaming while calling his name in an exaggeratedly polite tone.
“Is this how you want me to talk, khraabbb?” The speaker’s tone is teasing, but to the listener...
Push.
“Hey!” Khaen suddenly finds himself shoved down onto the bed again.
Tinn leans over him, his sharp eyes locked on the other’s startled face, though he didn’t say anything about the situation.
Instead, Tinn whispers softly: “Say it again.”
“Say what again?”
“Don’t play dumb, Khaen.”
The words make the listener laugh out loud, even as the person above leans in closer.
“If I say it again, you’ve got to take me to eat rice. I’m hungry.”
“Hurry up, Khaen,” the handsome young man urges, making the listener grin widely, now realizing his spoiled partner’s weak spot.
He likes to be sweet-talked but won’t admit it.
“Tinn-khraab, I am hungry, khraab. Take me to eat first, alright?” Khaen says, purely in jest.
But to the listener, who has been wanting to hear something like this for quite a while, it is an invitation to act. Tinn immediately leans down, kisses Khaen on the lips, and then pulls back to whisper:
“Let me eat this first, and then I’ll take you.”
With that, he kisses Khaen again, and the Pheuak Monkey, as cheeky as ever, happily returns the delicious touch, his heart swelling with relief at his decision to be with Tinn.
At least now he wouldn’t have to keep looking out for him anymore.
~~~
"Ah, say the hey ha day hey day hey~ Woooo!"
For someone who has just lost a football match, walking into the house singing a Spanish song—only knowing the words "ace de je"—makes the entire household turn and look at him in unison. What they see leaves them speechless: the eldest son of the house, shaking his hips while repeating that single part of the song.
"Has he gone mad from losing?" Lemon mutters softly, watching her older brother slide on his toes toward their mother.
"Maaammm, I miss you sooo much."
"What's wrong with you? You stayed over at a friend's house for a night, why are you so hyped up? Did you get drunk last night?" Their mother asks as her son hugs her waist tightly, prompting Kirakorn to shake his head vigorously, raising his hand to shoulder height.
"No alcohol, ma'am."
"Then don't tell me that—"
Whack!
"Ouch, Ma! Why did you hit ME?" Khaen-ta-lup yells loudly, dodging the hand that smacks his arm.
He can't understand why his mom gives him such a stern look (especially when her eyes are as narrow as her son's). But it doesn't seem like she will stop. She keeps hitting him several more times.
"Did you take drugs!? You lost yesterday; there's no way you can be this energetic!"
"Hey! What drugs? I don't take anything, Ma. Not even a bit. I just stayed over at Ai'Tinn's house, that's all. He just dropped me off a moment ago. I didn't take any drugs at all. So what if I lose though? It doesn't mean I can't win next year, right? Just because I think positive, now you think I'm on drugs? What's next? If I walk around naked, are you going to put me in a mental hospital?" Her son complains softly, prompting his listener to narrow her eyes at him, and then...
"Fine, whatever." However, mentioning that other person makes the one who thinks her brother is being ridiculous perk up, her eyes widening as she turns to look immediately.
"P'Khaen went to P'Tinn's house!?" Lemon asks eagerly, and the listener nods, feeling a bit shy.
He forgets for a moment that he and Tinn aren't just friends anymore—they're now romantic partners. He scratches his cheek a little, completely oblivious to what his sister is fantasizing about.
"What's P'Tinn's house like? Tell me, tell me, tell me!" Lemon asks curiously, and the one who stayed over begins telling the story immediately.
"Oh, it's amazing, Ai'Le! At first, I was pissed off about losing the match, but then I started noticing things. Ai'Tinn's room is grand, kiddo. Have you seen it in the movies? A bedroom with a divider separating it from a workspace—that's exactly it! And the whole room has this cohesive theme, like something straight out of Home and Garden magazine. There's a jacuzzi in the bathroom too. A PC, a laptop, and a huge TV—I forgot to ask him to watch some cartoons. Oh, and the bed—it's as soft as a hotel bed. Plus, the air conditioner in the house runs 24/7. Every corner is cool." The storyteller is in full bragging mode, excited to talk about his (newly minted) romantic partner.
He talks so much that Lemon pictures it vividly, until… she slips up. "Wow! If P'Pete had stayed over instead of P'Khaen, that would have been perfect!"
Pause.
What the hell?
The one who was in such a good mood, feeling as if he had been injected with something (?) that made him forget yesterday's disappointment, suddenly stops smiling. He looks at his sister, who's lost in her daydreams, and then notices their mom watching.
Lemon quickly stands up and waves her hand, beckoning him to follow her. Once they're far enough from their mother, Lemon nudges him and asks straight away.
"So, are P'Tinn and P'Pete a couple yet?"
"They're not a couple!"
"Hey! Why are you raising your voice at me, you crazy brother? Can't you speak nicely?"
"They're not a couple! Clear enough for you, kid?" Khaen's voice turns serious, his tone firm.
He really doesn't like it when his sister imagines the wrong pairings, but saying it outright feels awkward.
"But P'Tinn likes P'Pete."
"He doesn't!"
"I heard it with my own two ears!" Lemon retorts, and Khaen clicks his tongue.
He feels the urge to come out right then and there, but embarrassment still lingers. So, he repeats himself once more. "I said they're not a couple, so they're not! They're nothing more than friends!"
"But I told you I heard P'Tinn say he likes P'Pete!" Lemon insists, while Khaen clenches his fists, knowing full well that Tinn once had a wicked plan to come between his friend.
However, Tinn already made it clear that he's done with that Thai Commoner (even though Khaen still doesn't know when Tinn will start calling Ae by his real name).
Yet, as his sister persists, Khaen finally cuts her off. "Fine, fine! Fantasize all you want! It's not true anyway, so you're just imagining it. I'm going to bed—my whole body aches... especially my lower half."
If Lemon had paid a little more attention, or opened her mind just a bit, she would have noticed her brother walking awkwardly as he disappeared into his bedroom. Since she's still adamant that good-looking people belong together though, she keeps shipping the wrong pair.
Meanwhile, Khaen... is frustrated.
Tinn is my romantic partner! And honestly, at this point, he's my Phua too. But… I just can't say it.
In the end, he leaves the truth hanging in the air. Although soon enough... he'll finally get to come out as he wishes.
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