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What in the bloody fucking world was Phîi Porsche doing?
This was the sole thought of the young man who sat sullenly at the dining table, absently rubbing his cheek. The warm sensation of the nose that had brushed past was so distinct it vexed him. And he was bloody fucking certain his cheek was exceedingly red.
"It is wholly improper. Why must Phîi tease me so? Does he find it greatly amusing?" He could only mutter to himself with an indescribable sentiment. He acknowledged that his bloody fucking, wayward heart beat fiercely with joy at being near the one he secretly admired, yet another part could not help but feel...
I am no plaything, curse it. Teasing me as if it were a sport. I shall soon demand compensation for such torment.
The demeanor of the one muttering complaints, seated with a dour countenance as if affronted, prompted the person who had bathed and now entered, clad in short trousers and a dark-hued shirt, to raise his sharp eyebrows slightly. His keen gaze, revealing oddly surprising astonishment, then turned to the food upon the table.
"What, are you waiting for me to dine?"
"Awaiting you to instruct me in my studies, more likely," Dear retorted with sarcasm. He had returned from the university in the afternoon and had not lingered in expectation. Not waiting in the least! Not a single grain of rice, save at midday, had reached his stomach. He had acted with decorum, considering it improper to dine first in another's abode. Confining himself to his chamber was equally unseemly. Yet, faced with this query, he resolved to dine with Âi Sun on the morrow.
His words were laced with sarcasm, yet Dear rose from his chair and proceeded to the refrigerator, seizing a glass to pour two portions of the icy water he cherished dearly, placing them beside the two plates of food. The buffalo-sized young man gazed with wide eyes.
You ought to offer thanks. A Nai Dranphat is not easily found, curse it.
Though secretly vexed at being teased half an hour prior, the little one folded his arms confidently, certain he merited some praise.
"And the side dishes I purchased?"
"What?" A single word escaped his lips. He could only look up to meet the sharp eyes of the one demanding the side dishes he had bought, disregarding the two plates of specially prepared fried rice prominently displayed upon the table.
I went to the effort of preparing extra. Do you not even consider inquiring what I have done?
This was the thought of the one who grimaced, no longer caring that this was the Phîi-next-door he deeply respected and admired. He could only stride to a chair, slump upon it, seize his plate of rice—more exceptional for its additional omelet—and shovel rice into his mouth, assuring himself, I am not sulking, not sulking in the least.
"They are in the refrigerator."
The response prompted the listener to raise his eyebrows slightly. Yet, instead of opening the refrigerator, the tall figure settled onto another chair and drew the plate of rice, surely his own, before him. His sharp eyes gleamed with scrutiny.
"Are you certain it is edible?"
Clasp
"Then consume what you purchased. There is no need to eat this. I shall feed it to the dog before the condominium," declared the one who, shoveling rice into his mouth, was now enraged. He swiftly raised his head, seized the plate from the other's hand, and pulled it back toward himself, his voice gruff with profound vexation, causing the listener to sense he had overstepped.
"I did not say I would not eat," Purin said, grasping the plate in his hand. As Dear pulled it back, a contest ensued. Where else would such occur? I summoned the courage to call Jae Dream to inquire what Phîi Porsche favors. Finding no answer, I prepared my own favorite. I sought to impress him, yet my efforts seem destined to falter.
"You said you would eat the side dishes you bought," queried the little one, now regarding him with a sullen expression, prompting the listener to smile slowly. His sharp eyes softened as he gazed at the fried rice he held firmly.
I confess to being oddly surprised. I did not expect this young man to prepare anything for me. Receiving it... it feels pleasing.
"I merely inquired. I did not know that the youth here would display his talents," he said in a gentler tone, calming the puppy who had bared his teeth moments before. The hand clutching the plate relented, allowing Purin to draw it back before him as before.
"Are we sulking, then?" Purin said, extending his other hand to ruffle the soft hair lightly, prompting the owner to dodge warily while casting a sidelong glance that betrayed slight caution.
"I am not sulking in the least."
Indeed, the little one's demeanor is not sulking at all, Purin thought with amusement, observing the one who crossed his arms and grimaced at him. The fair face, which he had often deemed attractive, was stern. The round eyes, akin to a clingy puppy's, seemed eager to bite their master. Yet he acquiesced for now.
Lest the Nong sulk further.
"What prompted you to prepare extra for me?"
"My parents taught me well. At another's house, don't be idle. Craft oxen or buffaloes for their children to play with, correct? As you have no children, yet are buffalo-sized, I deemed preparing food a fair recompense," Dear said, his irritation unabated. Had the question been posed initially, he would have admitted he prepared it intentionally, out of consideration for residing in Purin's home. Yet, given such demeanor, he answered thus.
Is the Nong naming me a buffalo?
The thought prompted Purin to chuckle softly. He regarded the little one who resumed eating his rice, then took up a spoon to partake. His sharp eyes soon gleamed with satisfaction.
His skill is commendable.
"At home, does Jae Dream compel you to cook daily?"
"Indeed. Jae Dream declares herself a modern woman—late to sleep, late to rise, unskilled in cooking or housework. Thus, the burdens fall upon the modern man beneath his sister's feet, Nong Dear," he said. After savoring his favored omelet, Dear was in good spirits to recount, grimacing, prompting the one familiar with his friend's habits to laugh.
"Moreover, as Jae Dream informed you, I possess a refined palate. Cooking myself ensures no excess of seasonings. Truthfully, I am not embarrassed to enjoy cooking. Were it not that my friends pursue Computer Engineering, I even mused playfully of studying culinary arts," he said with a smile, for his love of the kitchen stemmed from his cherished elder sister.
Whatever she desired to eat, she tasked her Nong with preparing. With my parents absent, I cooked to survive, yet grew to relish it.
"Would you wish to?"
"What?" Abruptly, Phîi Porsche spoke simply, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze.
"Shall I sponsor your further study?"
Thump
Dear froze instantly, as the older person spoke with earnest demeanor, causing the listener's heart to sway unbelievably. It felt as though Phîi Porsche attended to his preferences.
"No, I thank you, Phîi. Studying would surround me with young women. Let it remain a jest. Moreover... I would feel indebted to you for sponsoring my studies," he said softly, prompting Phîi Porsche to smile. That smile, with twinkling eyes, left Dear frozen, uncertain how to act. More so when the large hand reached toward his face, nearly prompting him to flinch, yet he restrained himself.
Clasp
Dear admitted he stiffened when that hand touched the corner of his mouth. The young man's sharp eyes spoke in a graver tone, gently removing a small grain of rice lodged there since unknown time. The keen gaze revealed fondness for one who ate messily, like a child.
"I don't want you to feel restrained with me... We are akin to family."
Thump
Ask not how fiercely the listener's heartbeat. It was exceedingly forceful, almost bursting from his chest. He knew Phîi Porsche spoke thus for their shared upbringing and their parents' closeness. Yet his heart yearned to venture further... far further.
"In this chamber, it is the same. Residing together thus, don't be restrained with me. I know you may feel uneasy, compelled by Dream to dwell here. Consider it as keeping me company... If anything troubles you, speak. Regard yourself as owner of half this chamber," Purin said with a smile, then resumed eating, leaving the little one, stunned by the older person's words, to lower his head slowly.
Confound it, Âi Dear, why are you so elated?
"My thanks, Phîi Porsche," he said. The gratitude prompted the listener to smile, and the simple meal improved the atmosphere between them considerably.
The rice in the plates dwindled, while silence enveloped the chamber. It would likely have persisted until the plates were empty, had Purin not raised his gaze.
"Dear."
"Khrap?" The older person smiled before uttering words that stilled the listener.
"Refer to yourself as Dear with me, as before. I think its cute," he said. Having spoken, the speaker lifted his water to drink, placing his plate in the sink, leaving the listener motionless, admitting to himself... bloody fucking embarrassed.
"Another matter," he added. Before his long legs carried the tall figure from the kitchen, Purin paused at the doorframe, turning to smile.
"What I purchased, I inquired of Dream what you favor. Keep it for breakfast," he said, and the older person, having committed a grave fault, swiftly departed, leaving the victim seated as a log.
Phîi Porsche is a bloody evil person... grievously wronging Nai Dranphat's heart.
"Phîi Porsche is most evil," was all he could say, opening the refrigerator to find three side dishes: pork and winter melon soup, crispy pork with kale, and spicy stir-fried snakehead fish—his favorites, second to minced pork omelet.
Phîi Porsche is most evil... for making this young man love him more.
The situation between the two, united by a she-devil (?), improved steadily. Though they did not dine together nightly due to obligations, they talked daily. By week's end...
Knock Knock
"Enter, Phîi... Good Lord, you killed my baby again, Âi-fresh-mushroom!" In the evening, after classes and dining heartily with Âi Sun, the first-year young man with abundant leisure played an online game fervently with high school friends. A loud knock resounded.
Thus, the sight Purin beheld was the little one, clad in white football shorts and a basketball jersey (how he paired them was a mystery), clicking the mouse vigorously. His round eyes fixed upon the screen, sparing not a glance.
"What is it, Phîi Porsche? A moment, the game nears its end," Dear said, not turning to please him, prompting the listener to smile with amusement. The tall figure surveyed the chamber, unvisited since given to the little one, then gazed at the bright blue bed.
"I shall sit here and wait."
"Indeed," replied the one distracted, not truly heeding the question, which Purin took as consent. He sat upon the soft bed, observing the profile of the Nong-next-door.
Dear has matured into an attractive young man.
Purin wished to discard the thought, yet his sharp eyes lingered on the serious gaming visage. This little one, eighteen two months prior, how so?... Fair cheeks, large eyes, a fitting nose. His gaze fell upon the lips... redder than those of many young women he had courted, highlighting the siblings' disparity.
Dream, my friend, is beautiful, yet Dear is... attractive.
Do young men nowadays bear such red lips?
Purin questioned himself, perplexed. His sharp eyes studied the vibrant lips, stoplessly cursing teammates, realizing his own Nong, Lexus, lacked such hue. Most crucially, why did he feel... Are they alluring?
Perhaps mere fondness.
The young man told himself silently, feeling his lips curl slightly at the game-obsessed youth's antics, smiling broadly one moment, frowning the next as if his tail were trodden, swelling his fondness.
"Victory! Behold, face my team, you damned animals!" The game of prestige concluded, the one at the desk swiveled to face the waiting Purin, suddenly mindful. His lips parted in a wide, joyful smile, stirring Purin's heart faintly.
Then came words from those vibrant lips.
"Does Phîi Porsche wish anything of me?"
Thump
The listener froze at the thoughtless words. The speaker, still beaming with gaming joy, seemed unaware of his query, until Purin, pausing, grinned widely, patting the cushion beside him lightly.
"Indeed, if you invite me, how could I refuse? Never with a young man, correct? I shall be gentle," he said.
The questioner's mood flipped instantly. His round eyes doubled in size, lips agape, mind racing as he beheld the wide grin of the young man seated cross-legged on his bed, stunned.
Hold, what did I ask Phîi Porsche? Good Lord!
"Are you mad? I invited you not to intimacy!"
"Truly?" The respondent's irksome expression vexed the unwitting inviter, who yearned to hurl the mouse at him. His fair cheeks reddened, uncertain if from anger or embarrassment. Surely... he glanced at the bed.
No invitation, no desire, not at all... truly not.
"What does Phîi want, then? Did you come to antagonize me?" Unable to counter, he raised his voice to conceal his feelings, unable to articulate his thoughts on Phîi Porsche's suggestive retort.
The query seemed to remind Purin, prompting the tall figure to rise from the soft bed, grasp the young man's arm, and pull him from the wheeled chair, bewildered.
"Initially, I came to inquire if you were free. Having finished your game, you must be so, correct? Assist me with a task," he said, leading the way from the chamber. The now-free Dear frowned in confusion yet followed, glancing back at his bed.
Should I have replied... Try it, Phîi Porsche?
"Phîi Porsche, the oil leaks."
"Then grasp it firmly. Do not pull it like that."
"I grasp it firmly! Yet it is large, curse it."
"Thus, hold it so. Have you never done so before?"
"Indeed not! Do you think me experienced in such matters?"
"Not so? Today you shall be."
Dear yearned to cry out in rage, both hands striving to grip the long rod, fingers sealing its end tightly. His fair face flushed from the heat of the task, ongoing for over fifteen minutes. His large, comfortable basketball jersey clung to his little frame, his eyes fixed on the face a mere span away... the young man bowing close to the long pipe in his hands.
Is this deliberate? Good Lord, I shall go mad. Surely it is not only me, is it? Answer me, Phîi.
"Phîi Porsche, it is but a showerhead. Why must I assist?"
Indeed, the two young men huddled in the suite's large bathroom were... replacing the showerhead.
The showerhead, faulty for days, had been neglected by the chamber's owner, who used the outer bathroom with Dear until Thursday. Phîi Porsche, weary of transporting garments, declared it must be replaced today.
"The water spurts forth. I need you to hold the pipe briefly. Come, assist me," Purin, bowing over the silver pipe's end sans showerhead, said simply, screwing on the new head, prompting the aspiring engineer to query.
"Why not summon the condominium's handyman? Such a place must have one on duty."
"No need. Replacing a showerhead is simple. There are but two handymen here. If every chamber's faucet failed at once, consider their labor. I can manage without troubling them. The elder is aged; bending and rising pains him, a sin upon us," he said.
Good Lord, you make me seem an evil person. A chamber costing millions, summoning a handyman is no sin.
Dear muttered to himself, observing the sweat-drenched face, large hands twisting the troublesome showerhead, while he held the hose.
"It should function now," he said after minutes of struggle. The young businessman, pleased with his work, grinned widely, standing erect. His sharp eyes turned to his water heater.
"Let us test it."
"Open the water," Dear said, directing the hose downward, prompting the other to adjust the water level, then glance back. Yet... silence.
"What is amiss?" The showerhead's utter stillness provoked Dear's frustrated cry. It is hot, comprehend you? I would rather recline under the air conditioner, gaming. His hand shook the hose vigorously, hoping it would function.
This prompted Purin to inspect the water heater, his gaze catching the closed valve.
"I forgot to open this," he murmured, unheard by Dear, who turned the showerhead toward his face with determination.
"When will you function..."
Splash
"Good Lord... cough cough... Good Lord! Close it! Close the water... cough cough..." Before he could berate the faulty showerhead, cold water sprayed his face swiftly. Startled, he stood as water assailed him, shouting for Purin to turn, alarmed, and shut the water.
"Good Lord, Dear, are you well?"
"Cough cough... Try water in your face... cough cough..." The query prompted the little one to cough heavily, feeling Phîi Porsche wrest the showerhead from his hand. He bowed his head, coughing until his face reddened, wiping water from his mouth and nose.
"Let me see," said Purin, drawing nearer, lifting Dear's face.
Thump
Yet the older person froze, beholding the little one's intensely red face, round eyes wet with stinging droplets, small nose reddened, and most notably... parted lips.
The lips Purin wondered about, why so red?
"Are you unharmed?" His deep voice inquired softly, wiping water gently from the fair cheek, causing the red-eyed Dear to speak in a tremulous voice.
"No, Phîi Porsche, my eyes sting. Water entered them, surely," he said, blinking forcefully, about to rub his eyes, but Purin seized his hand.
"Rub not, lest infection arise... Blink firmly," he ordered. Dear obeyed, feeling intense stinging, gazing at the ceiling, letting natural tears flush the irritation, unaware his hand remained in the large palm.
Unaware of their bodies' closeness... so close... I feel his breath.
While Dear was oblivious, Purin felt it keenly. His sharp eyes beheld the soaking little one, wet hair clinging to his cheeks, small tears streaming from the eyes of the drenched puppy, stirring something in his heart.
Something, perhaps curiosity... Beyond their redness, how soft are they? I must ascertain.
"Good Lord!" The warm touch upon his lips widened Dear's stinging eyes. His heart nearly stopped. Tears halted as if a valve closed. His blurred eyes widened, beholding... the one kissing him.
Phîi Porsche... kissing.
Instead of resisting, his body stiffened in shock, allowing the tall young man to press a heavy kiss upon his lips. He knew only that Phîi Porsche's lips were warm... soft... shaking his entire heart.
A kiss without intrusion, merely pressed and held, gently nibbling his lower lip, the tall body drawing closer. Dear would have remained rigid, unperceiving, had Purin not slowly withdrawn.
Though... I desired more.
Their eyes met silently, until Purin spoke softly.
"I... apologize."
The apology roused the stunned Dear. Both hands pushed the broad chest forcefully. Before Purin could speak, Dear turned and swiftly exited the bathroom, leaving the impulsive one motionless.
"What have you done, Âi Porsche?" The young man asked himself in a strong voice, rubbing his head in confusion. He knew only that, in proximity, he desired to kiss Dear and followed his impulse, heedless of consequences.
How shall I face this Nong now?
The thought urged a loud oath at his fleeting lapse, blamed on months without courtship. Seeing Dear, he... faltered.
Yet this faltering revealed one truth.
The Nong-next-door's lips are soft... exceedingly soft.
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