Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
~~~
Jae Dream: "I'm flying to China tonight, Dear. I'll be back Wednesday evening."
Dear: "Hey, why're you going? How come I didn't know anything about this?"
Jae Dream: "The last batch of goods they sent was utterly deplorable. It's maddening. Like that confounded shipping service they use. Curse it all. I'm going to talk to them myself, supervise it myself, and give them a piece of my mind too. I'll make them see that if they raise prices and deliver shoddy, worthless goods, I'll demand a refund on the spot. If this time it's truly unacceptable, I'll stop ordering from China altogether. I'd rather pay more for Japanese or Korean goods—far better quality!"
Dear: "Oh, Khrap, Khrap."
Jae Dream: "So, if you're going home this weekend, wash three baskets of laundry for me too. Oh, and don't forget to clean the windows thoroughly and change the bed sheets in my room..."
This conversation with his beloved elder sister last night flashed into Dear's mind as he opened his eyes to a new morning. I'd rather not admit I'm utterly horrified for those Jae Dream is about to berate, Dear thought. And I'd rather not say that even if we don't understand each other when Jae Dream scolds, even if you don't comprehend, you still feel humbled.
Then she assigns a slew of chores like this. What does she think Nai Dranphat will do?
Dear: "Oh, I can't go home this weekend, Jae. I've got to finish physics lab homework."
Just finding a way to avoid going home, Khrap, Dear thought, springing up to sit, hair tousled on the bed. He glanced at the clock, which read past ten, then slowly rose to his feet.
Grabbing the towel hung to dry, Dear walked, body tilted, out of the bedroom toward the bathroom in the middle of the suite. "Saturday, Phîi Porsche goes to the company, doesn't he? So today I'll likely have the place to myself," Dear muttered to the empty room. "Does Âi Sun go home today? I'd rather go lounge and play Winning Eleven in his room."
He brought clothes in, humming a tune while showering, but only realized after finishing that he'd forgotten... I forgot the clothes.
"Oh, never mind. Phîi Porsche isn't here, and even if he were, we're both fellows, aren't we?" Dear said, shaking his head at his own forgetfulness. His hand sprinkled baby powder—I'd rather not tell anyone I'm hooked on it; without it, I'd be lost—then wrapped a towel around his waist.
Screech
"...But you lost the one who loved you most in life. The one ready to do anything, give anything..."
"Oh, you're up already, Dear?"
Thump.
While belting out a song with gusto, Dear thought of frying up some rice and then lounging in Âi Sun's room. But the plan crumbled when the room's owner's greeting cut through the air, accompanied by a choked gasp (?).
Bloody hell... Phîi Porsche is here, Dear thought.
His heart screamed he was doomed, but his legs froze, like someone in shock, Khrap. I thought he wasn't here, but he pops out from the kitchen. And confound it, he's wearing an apron too.
Heart, don't pound so hard. It's just Phîi Porsche in an apron... just an apron... Good Lord, he's bloody dashing.
"Heh, why're you standing there? Aren't you cold?" Purin swept his gaze over the little one, whose wet black hair clung to his pale face. His eyes couldn't help but dip lower... to the fair skin where something stood out prominently, a slender waist loosely wrapped in a towel.
The greeting snapped Dear's dazed mind back to reality.
"Cold? Nah, I'm not cold. What's cold about it? Just walking around in a single towel. Folks do it all the time. Nothing odd about it." Purin hadn't asked, but Dear, suddenly shy, blurted out with a stammer, slightly dodging the gaze of the man before him.
If Âi Shin said, 'Don't act like a young lass,' I'd snap back, 'Yeah, I'm embarrassed, got it?' Dear thought.
"I didn't say anything. Go get dressed and come eat breakfast. There's bread—I had the housekeeper-auntie buy some yesterday," Purin said calmly, but the listener felt Purin's gaze made him hot and cold somehow. And he was looking below Dear's chin, too.
What's he looking at? Dear wondered, turning back to his room, tightening the towel a bit. Just as well, I haven't got the girth of a cannon barrel like some, so I'm not bold enough to show off what Bpǎa gave me.
"Hold on, Dear."
Why're you calling, Khrap? It's chilly, Dear thought.
His heart raced, but his legs halted. He watched the tall figure pass by, disappearing toward the spacious bathroom, then return...
Thump.
"Dry your hair, or you'll fall ill. You've been prone to sickness since you were a lad," Purin said, placing a small towel on Dear's tousled head. His large hands gently rubbed it, bending down to smile into Dear's eyes, warming his heart.
"I don't get sick easily," Dear protested.
"Then which junior came crying to me that the confounded rain made him sick?"
Whoosh... I swear I'm not embarrassed, just my cheeks got hot. Childhood memories surfaced unbidden, without asking if Dear wanted them now.
When I was seven or eight, I stubbornly played in the rain with Âi Lexus. The next day, I caught a cold that turned into the flu. My close friend was fine, though, and had the gall to drag his Phîi to visit, teasing that Âi Dear was frail. It was Phîi Porsche who scolded him.
And it was Phîi Porsche whom the boy Dranphat whined to (I recall Mâe wouldn't let Jae Dream near, fearing she'd catch the flu). I griped loudly that the rain made me ill. With no one to cling to since Mâe was working, Phîi Porsche was the sick lad's target.
Do you grasp 'clinging,' Khrap? A seven- or eight-year-old boy whining for the Phîi-next-door to stay with him nearly all the time.
Memory, don't flash so much. The more you do, the more embarrassed I am about all my childhood moments with Phîi Porsche, Dear thought.
"I was just a kid then," Dear mumbled softly, standing still as Purin gently rubbed the towel on his head. Purin said nothing more, only...
"Heh, heh."
I loathe that two-syllable chuckle. Fine, you know young Dear was clingy. Happy, Khrap?
"Alright, go dress. You'll catch cold again. Then come eat," Purin said.
Dear nodded quietly, obediently, turning to enter his room. But then...
"Dear."
"Khrap?" He turned, meeting Purin's eyes. The handsome man gave a wide smile, his twinkling eyes conveying an indescribable gentleness. Then Purin spoke softly.
"To me, Dear's still the lad I'll always look after."
"...Porsche..."
"Hmm?" Purin made a soft throat sound as the little one muttered something, prompting Dear to look up and meet his gaze.
"You're bloody crazy, Phîi Porsche... I'm grown now!"
Slam!
Others might think the little one was angry at being called a lad, but not Purin, who was beginning to sense that when Dear called him crazy, it likely meant... Dear was embarrassed.
And... his face is flushed red.
"Heh, grown in body alone, little one," Purin said, returning to the kitchen to prepare food for the pup who today must atone for a week of scant attention.
The pup said, Khrap, that he needs love and warmth always. I just fear Dear becoming a troubled dog, Purin thought.
"Phîi Porsche, confound it, why do you keep making me embarrassed?" Dear exclaimed.
Back in his room, Dear could only shout to himself, hands clutching the towel, gripping his hair. Phîi Porsche's look when he said he'd look after me lingers behind my eyelids, unshakable.
And you, Dear, didn't you say if Phîi flirts, you'll flirt back? What's this? Phîi Porsche says that, and you flee again. Say it: I'm willing to let Phîi care for me.
Thump.
Before those dreadful words could escape, Dear's fine hairs stood on end at his own thoughts. He widened his eyes, thinking, My thoughts deserve to be sacked and tossed into the sea.
"Good Lord, don't get so brazen daily, Âi Dear. Don't, alright? Don't act all cute and cuddly like that," Dear said, rubbing his head again, stomping to the wardrobe. He slid open the built-in door, catching his reflection in the large mirror.
The image of a pale young man—save for the flushed face—revealed something... striking.
"Hey, my nipples are erect!" Dear shouted, bending to inspect his chest, where tiny buds stood rigid against the cold air, so prominent even the mirror showed it. And to think, Phîi Porsche stared so long...
Probably not. Would Phîi Porsche look at my nipples? No... surely not. Why'd they get hard? It's embarrassing, bloody embarrassing. With no one to vent to, Dear blamed himself, hastily grabbing clothes to throw on. The longer I'm exposed, the riskier it feels somehow.
Phîi Porsche isn't dangerous (?), but the danger's me acting foolish and inviting more teasing. Yet one question echoed in Dear's heart.
"Did Phîi Porsche really stare at my nipples just now?"
A question only Purin could answer.
"What were you thinking, making breakfast for me, Phîi?"
After an American breakfast of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs, toast with butter and jam (crafted, of course, by the suite's owner), and warm Ovaltine, Dear, now in an oversized basketball shirt and shorts, turned his attention to Purin, who sat reading news on his iPad.
Purin glanced up from the screen, closed the news, and a faint smile crossed his handsome face.
"Making up for time, naturally."
"Making up for time? What time, Phîi?"
"Time to tend to my pup, of course. I fear my dog might lack warmth."
Thump.
Dear froze, eyes wide at Purin's laughter-laced words. After speaking, Purin casually sipped his coffee, making Dear feel his cheeks heat up, recalling that night he boldly told Purin how he needed love and warmth.
So, you'll give me 'love' and warmth, Phîi? You said it, no taking it back, Dear thought.
He could only think it, for his mouth could only protest.
"Are you really making me your dog?" Dear asked, prompting Purin to raise an eyebrow and reply with a chuckle.
"Don't want to be anymore? Seems I'm not tending you well. My pup's getting fussy..."
"I'm not fussy. I'm not a dog, you know. What dog's this handsome?"
"Heh, I just learned my pup's vain too."
"Phîi Porsche!" At Purin's interjection, Dear bellowed, face set as if to pounce and nip his master. Purin, rising with his coffee cup, laughed softly.
"Alright, alright, no more teasing. I made breakfast because you weren't up yet and hadn't eaten," Purin said, grabbing Dear's empty plate, heading for the sink. Dear swiftly grabbed his arm.
"I'll wash them, Phîi. You cooked for me, so I'll do the dishes," Dear said, eyeing the soaking frying pan, standing with a courteous expression. Purin nodded, but before Dear turned to wash, he took a deep breath and met Purin's eyes.
"Uh... thanks, Khrap, Phîi Porsche. This meal was delicious. And... my master takes such good care. I'd be your dog forever," Dear said shyly, then hurried to the sink. Purin paused, a smile spreading across his sharp features.
Thump.
A large hand settled on Dear's tousled head, gently ruffling his jet-black hair.
"Acting so endearing, no wonder folks love keeping you as a pup."
Purin left the kitchen, but Dear, washing dishes, pressed his lips tight. Was it my imagination, or did those words hint at something that makes my heart race?
Go for it, Âi Dear. Try it. Don't overthink nonsense. Maybe there's hope for this one-sided love, Dear thought.
"I'll make Phîi love me... worst case, I'll just be heartbroken," Dear muttered.
"Dishes done! Woohoo, gaming time! I'm claiming the TV today, Phîi," Dear announced.
Purin, browsing movie channels, looked up at the shout. The red-lipped young man rushed to the television, opened a drawer, and rummaged for games Purin rarely played, deftly connecting everything.
Thump.
"Hey, Dear, I'm watching a movie."
"But I'm playing a game," Dear said, grabbing the remote and switching to the game console's channel. Purin objected, but when he reached for it, Dear flashed a wide smile, then turned back to his game, leaving Purin momentarily stunned.
Living like this is nice. I don't want him so formal, like when he first moved in. "Going to play a game? Did you ask the console's owner?" Purin teased, prompting Dear to turn and grin broadly.
"No need to ask, Phîi. This dog knows his master's kind-hearted," Dear said, resuming his game, oblivious to Purin's brief stillness before he burst out laughing.
"Fine, I surrender. Just don't chew up and break anything," Purin said.
"I'm a well-mannered dog. I won't break your stuff," Dear replied.
"Heard you broke a joystick."
"Hmph, Phîi Porsche, forget that sometimes, will you? Next week, I'm going to the mall with friends. I'll buy you a new one."
"I bought that one in America."
"Ugh," Dear groaned, turning with blinking eyes, like a pup who'd shredded his master's new shoes.
"Sorry, Khrap," Dear said, voice soft and forlorn, genuinely contrite. Purin, about to tease, shook his head. The tall figure moved to the bookshelf against the living room wall, chuckling.
"Anyone ever tell you that face makes even the hard-hearted soften?"
"And are you soft-hearted toward me, Phîi Porsche?" Dear ventured. Purin, book in hand, returned and sprawled on the large sofa, now eye-level with Dear on the floor.
Purin glanced briefly at the pale-faced young man, placed a hand on his tousled head, and turned it back toward the television.
"Turn around and play your game. Stare at me too long, and I'll grow too soft-hearted."
That made Nai Dranphat smile easily. Answering thus means Phîi Porsche is a bit soft-hearted toward me, right?
***
"Cleared it, yeah! Cleared it!" Dear shouted throughout the suite, having slain another boss after two grueling rounds. He turned to boast to Purin, reading nearby, but saw... a sleeping man.
Dear paused the game and gazed at Purin, book covering his face, long legs spilling over the sofa's edge.
"Phîi Porsche... are you asleep, Khrap?" Dear asked softly, courteously. With no response, he hesitated.
"Your book'll fall, Phîi. I'll set it aside," Dear murmured, gently freeing Purin's hand from the book, marking the page, and sitting cross-legged to study the sleeping face.
Phîi Porsche is handsome, Dear thought. I've known it since he was just the Phîi-next-door. I envied that sharp face, keen eyes, thick brows. Even now, man to man, I know how handsome he is. Even asleep... he makes my heart quiver, as always.
Don't know how long I've stared at his sleeping face, smiling like a fool. This good feeling's attacking my heart. Just a day off with Phîi Porsche reading and me gaming feels indescribably wonderful. Like... we're closer than before.
Tap.
Phîi Porsche, I stopped trying to quit liking you long ago. I don't need you to turn gay and like me. Just don't have someone else who'd break my heart, Dear thought, his finger brushing Purin's faintly stubbled cheek. His red lips widened slightly. Honestly, I could stare all day and not tire. But if Phîi wakes now, we'd lock eyes awkwardly. So Dear stood, planning to shut off the game and cook something for them both.
Thump.
"Hey!" As Dear pulled away, a large hand seized his, pulling him into a warm embrace. A startled cry escaped, his round eyes widening. Looking up, Purin's eyes remained closed.
"Phîi Porsche..."
"I'm napping. Be my pillow for a bit," Purin said simply, as if requesting a pillow were trivial. But it left Dear, both dog and pillow, wanting to protest.
"Please..."
Good Lord, Phîi Porsche talks with eyes closed, yet my foolish heart races over 'please,' Dear thought.
In the end, Dear climbed onto the sofa beside Purin. I don't understand why I'm doing this, or why Phîi Porsche holds me so.
"Phîi, we're both fellows, you know," Dear warned, signaling he was a Nong. But Purin tightened his embrace slightly.
"Mm... I know," Purin said, gripping a bit firmer. Though both men, Purin relished the feel of the little one in his arms, unwilling to question his actions. I just want to hold him.
Purin fell silent, hands clasping his roommate-Nong tightly. Dear's heart pounded nearly enough to tap-dance mid-room, his face flushed. His awkward hands tentatively rested on Purin's waist.
You know I'm a man, Phîi, yet you hold me. Do you know it makes me wonder? Dear thought.
Dear bowed his head, calming his excitement, then looked at Purin's chin beside him. My heart's working overtime, but my brain's working harder.
Like Âi Sun says, I'm high IQ, low EQ, good at studies. But I'm not so dim-witted I can't see something's happening between me and Phîi Porsche.
I don't believe Phîi Porsche treats every Nong this way. Âi Lexus said Phîi Porsche frets over his studies but never meddles in his life. I asked if Phîi Porsche hugs him or cares for him like this, and he said, 'You're mad, Âi Dear. Is that a Phîi caring for a Nong, or a Phûa caring for a Mia? Nuts.'
Yes, I think so too. The hugs, kisses, odd words—Phîi Porsche must feel something for me. It's giving Dranphat hope.
Even if I'm clueless about others' feelings, with someone I watch constantly... I can't help but wonder.
I want to ask... Phîi, could you try loving me? I love you like a foolish kid already.
Hope swelled in Dear's chest as he smiled. His once-awkward hands slowly returned Purin's embrace, his head nuzzling for a comfortable spot, finally resting on a broad shoulder before closing his eyes.
This is the best day off. I swear.
Because the one I love is lying beside me.
Purin slept soundly. Hours later, stirring, he felt a weight and opened his eyes. Thick brows furrowed, then relaxed, a smile widening.
I must be mad, Âi Porsche, pulling my Nong into a hug like this, Purin thought.
Glancing at the wall clock—past three p.m.—Purin, meaning to rise, instead lay still, gazing at the young man pillowed on his numb arm.
I've always understood myself, known what I want, what I must do, Purin thought.
But now I don't. I'm not gay—proven time and again. I never liked men. My grad school friend in America, a gay man, showed that. If I'd like men, I'd have fallen for him. But I didn't, not romantically.
Yet I've never treated any man like this Nong. I tell myself I want to care for him like a true Nong. But when I slip, I do things a Phîi shouldn't do with a Nong.
I don't know, and don't want to ponder what's happening.
Purin's hand touched Dear's red lips. His sharp face inched closer, craving the softness and sweetness he'd tasted before.
I want to kiss him again.
Whoosh.
But before his lips met Dear's, the young man's eyes snapped open, clear and alert, no trace of sleep. In a faint voice, he asked, "Phîi Porsche... are you going to kiss me again, Khrap?"
The blunt question froze Purin, who'd intended just that.
Comments
Post a Comment