31 domestic days in Phapundao

”Are you alright?” 

Lalita glances at her husband, turning her face away from the Jeep window filled with tiny fingerprints, and offers him a tight smile. ”I— yes,” she says and nods for a good measure. ”Of course.”

The journey here has been something she never even imagined she would need to do—both in the physical and mental sense. She never thought she would find herself heading out to the jungle in a banged-up Jeep, let alone heading out to said jungle to meet her son and the life partner he’s chosen for himself.

In the jungle.

It’s hot and humid and the Jeep lacks basic comforts like air conditioning and working suspense. Lalita hides a grimace when the chatty ranger profusely apologizes for the condition of the road—apparently, the infrastructure out here is more about the practicality and what time the villagers can spare than something that could be handed over to a trusted contractor.

She startles slightly when Teerayut takes her hand and squeezes it. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that under the strict surface, he’s another worried parent, wanting to make sure their son is alright.

”—and Tian has really made a difference!” the ranger says, offering them a wide grin via the rearview mirror.

”I’m sorry, what was that?” she asks, slightly embarrassed to have missed the comment.

”Oh, I just said that Tian has really made our lives easier. Not that I mean the Chief was unbearable to live with previously—not that he was not unbearable but, you know—but he was lonely. Now he’s not.” He changes gears and the Jeep lets out a pained sound. ”They’re actually pretty terrible to be around,” he confines. ”They make these lovey-dovey eyes at each other even though Chief pretends he doesn’t. But we have eyes. We know. They’re so in love we just have to tease them!”

”Ah,” Lalita says faintly and wonders if all rangers talk this much. She hopes not. It’s a bit…much.

The view is breathtaking, she decides when the ranger stops the Jeep to let them take in the sight. Mountains, jungle, vibrant green foliage, searing blue sky, and fluffy white clouds. It’s like a scene from a storybook. 

”I’m taking you to the village proper,” the ranger says as he starts the car again. ”Khama—that’s the village chief—has prepared a guest house for you. It’s small but it’s private, and you won’t be bothered by the noise and traffic at the base.”

”That sounds good,” Teerayut says, squeezing her hand once again.

She wonders if they’ll have indoor plumbing.

They don’t meet Tian’s partner—boyfriend? Fiance? She would like to know—until late at night due to something he needed to take care of in the forest. Tian doesn’t explain closer, not that Lalita is that interested anyway. She just wants to hug her son, check that he’s alright, that he’s eaten enough, that he’s healthy and happy and smiling and there and—

”Mom!” Tian laughs, squirming away from her grip. ”I’m fine. Really. Chief takes good care of me!”

”And if he for some reason didn’t, we would step in,” the village chief Khama says. He’s a reasonable man and she likes him. ”Not that we have to,” he adds and chuckles a bit. ”I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man so in love as Phupha.”

”Good,” she blurts and then takes a hurried sip from her cup to cover up her nerves.

She doesn’t even know why she’s nervous. There’s no reason—if someone should be nervous it’s that man Tian is now living with! He’s the one who’s taken Tian away from her, he’s the one who needs to—to— 

She huffs and frowns, takes a look around. It’s a small feast that’s been prepared in their honor, with a bonfire and paper lanterns and bright fabrics and lots of food she isn’t sure she can make herself eat. But she’ll try. Because this is now Tian’s home and she wants to show him that she respects his choices even if she’s having a hard time understanding some of them. Or any of them.

”Are you Mr. Seetian’s mom?” a girl asks, narrowing her eyes at her.

”Yes,” she says with a tentative smile. She’s never been good with small children, a trait that Tian—thankfully—hasn’t inherited she knows, watching her son with his pupils. He’s a natural and they gather around him like he’s something they need. It’s a feeling Lalita recognizes because there’s a light in Tian, a magnetic pull when he smiles, and it draws people in. It always has. And in here, it seems like he’s found just the right people to shine all that light on. After all, he never smiled quite like that before.

Someone stops a short distance from her, leaning against a tree. When she looks closer, she recognizes Tian’s Chief. He looks tired and his hair is wet, but there’s a soft look in his eyes and a slight smile playing on his lips and— yes. He looks very much in love. Like Tian is something Chief Phupha doesn’t quite believe is real but what he fervently wishes is not just a dream, something he’s willing to endure hardship to keep. Something he’s willing to fight for. It reminds her of how Teerayut used to look at her back in the day when they were both young.

Good, she thinks. Her Tian deserves nothing less.

On the other side of the bonfire, Tian looks up and his eyes unerringly find Chief Phupha. Something clenches in Lalita’s chest as she sees how Tian’s face melts into a brilliant, shining smile and how the Chief answers in kind.

Perhaps she doesn’t need to understand all her son’s choices.

Perhaps understanding this is more than enough.

Tian finds them by accident.

He’s cleaning up their room—doing some light spring cleaning despite it not being spring, but it’s the thought that matters, right?—and decluttering the big cabinet in the corner. It’s an old one, a leftover from Chief’s predecessor’s predecessor’s predecessor or something, a banged-up monstrosity with partially broken handles and squeaky hinges. But it’s big and roomy and it eats up a lot of stuff which is the reason he tolerates it.

The small stack of papers is stuffed on the second shelf from up, almost too high for him to reach to the back of the shelf. He frowns when his fingers brush the pile and he goes on his tiptoes to grab whatever that’s shoved there. 

He’s not sure what he expected but definitely not these.

Because for some reason, Chief has been storing Tian’s old notes in his ugly cabinet, the bright post-it notes he wrote almost obsessively in the beginning to keep his head above the proverbial water. Haphazard words to help him navigate this strange, scary new place; hurried scrawls of names and places and ideas; exclamation marks and underlined words drawn with enough force to rip the paper. 

And Chief has saved them all.

Tian loses himself to the memories, to the past him who was desperate to find his place in a world where he didn’t belong and where he thought he had no right to be. He brushes his finger across a bright pink note with ”Ask Meejoo about the candles!!” and has absolutely no idea what the note means. Would he have even dared to imagine back then that he’d one day be here? Belonging, loved, appreciated?

Home.

A sound from the patio jolts him from his thoughts. He blinks, surprised—and yet not—to realize his vision is blurry with tears, and hurriedly wipes away the evidence from his cheeks, just in time to smile when Chief opens the door.

…he probably should’ve known wiping away the tears would do nothing to actually hide that he was crying.

”Tian?” Chief asks, worried, all his focus on him. ”What happened?” His gaze drops to the pile of colorful papers on the bed and he blinks before slowly meeting his eyes again. ”Uh,” he says and clears his throat.

”I had no idea you saved these?” Tian says, and it comes out tentative, wondering.

Chief shrugs, embarrassed. He has no qualms fucking Tian stupid and whispering sweet nothings into his skin in the cover of the night, but outside the safety of their squeaky bed, he’s surprisingly shy. ”I—” he starts, ducking his head. 

Tian clambers up and collides into him, rubbing his face against Chief’s chest with a happy hum. ”You romantic,” he murmurs. 

Chief’s arms circle him, steady and strong, while his small huff resonates against Tian’s cheek, and they stand there, happy, content, breathing together. 

It’s good.

When Phupha gets back from the bathroom, Nam has that certain look on his face. The one where he would be wearing a shit-eating grin unless he was trying too hard to be nonchalant and innocent. The one that spells trouble.

Phupha narrows his eyes. ”What?”

Nam’s eyes go comically wide and he shakes his head. ”What?”

Phupha grumbles, picks up his car keys and his wallet with the shopping list tucked safely in it from Nam’s desk, and stuffs them into his pockets. ”Do you need anything from the town? Beer? Coffee? Manners?”

”Phu, you wound me!” Nam gasps, pressing a hand on his chest. 

”No, I don’t,” he says snorts. ”If there’s nothing else, I’ll be off.”

It’s a nice day and the fact that he has a rare half-day off only adds to its niceness. He’s gonna run to the store to get supplies and some of Tian’s favorite snacks, and to be back by the time he’s done with today’s lessons. If the weather stays clear, he’ll take Tian to Phapundao cliff for a picnic. It’s been a while since the last time they went.

The market is busy as usual but the small store he checked out earlier for Tian is quiet. He doesn’t need a shopping list for the groceries but he had to write down Tian’s favorite tamarind candy brand just to make sure he’ll get it right.

It isn’t until he digs the list from his wallet and gives it to the clerk to realize he probably should’ve checked it.

Because Nam’s an ass.

The clerk opens the list, lets out a choked sound, and turns red.

”What?” Phupha asks, taking the piece of paper from her, and swears.

Underneath Tian’s favourite snacks and the title of the fantasy series he likes to read, reads in luridly pink ink, 

LUBRICANT, STRAWBERRY, XXL

CONDOMS, RIBBED

FEATHERS, WHITE

COCK RING WITH DIAMONDS

BRUISE CREAM

FLIP FLOPS

”My friend has the sense of humor of a prepubescent boy,” Phupha says, pinching the base of his nose. ”I’m sorry.”

The clerk swallows and gives him a slightly strained smile. ”We do have feathers, bruise cream, and…” she pauses for a moment, ”…flip flops? Right over there,” she points. ”For the other items, you might want to visit the store two blocks over.”

Phupha opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. ”It’s—that’s really not my shopping list?” he says.

The clerk’s smile stays on. ”No need to feel embarrassed. Now, would pink and blue feathers be acceptable?”

”I hate you,” Phupha says in a low voice later that day when Nam stops by after his shift at the clinic.

Nam’s grin is full of glee. ”No, you don’t!”

”Chief, how did you know I wanted the feathers?” Tian calls from their room.

”You head that?” Nam stage-whispers. ”He wanted the feathers.”

”Nam,” Phupha warns.

”What? What are you talking about?” Tian asks as he comes over, sitting half on Phupha’s lap and leaning against him. ”No, but seriously, how did you know I wanted the feathers? I was trying to come up with something for the kids and—are you okay, Nam?”

Across from them, Nam is waggling his brows so much it looks like he's having a seizure.

”Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” Phupha says, curling an arm around Tian and tucking him closer. ”How was your day?”

As Tian talks, Phupha watches him with a small smile.

(He’s not thinking about the list. He’s not.)

Phupha Viriyanon loves his life. 

He loves where he’s lived his whole life, this remote part of Thailand nestled between mountains and hidden in the jungle. He loves the clear skies, the greenery, the animals. He loves his job—mostly, although it could always pay better—and he loves his colleagues.

He loves the villagers and their simple ways, the kids, and the elders who raise their brows and give Phupha knowing looks when he picks Tian up.

And he loves Tian. 

After all this time, after the years apart, after finally getting him back to his side, Phupha isn’t ashamed to say aloud he loves this young, ridiculous, brilliant man who clawed his way back from the brink of death, dug in with tooth and nail, and refused to let go.

He loves Tian.

He does not love Tian’s cooking.

One might think that after years abroad and after living in Phapundao, Tian would’ve picked up basic skills but one would be wrong. He manages to string up simple things, yes, but usually cooking is up to Phupha, unless one of the other rangers picks up the skillet. He’s tried to teach Tian but their cooking lessons usually end up in less to no clothes and absolutely no food which is sort of enjoyable but doesn’t actually help with getting food on the table.

But Tian tries. With or without Phupha’s help, he tries.

And Phupha doesn’t have it in him to tell him to stop.

”That’s…” Rang says, peering into Phupha’s lunch box. ”Um. That…is?”

”You’re a brave, brave man, Chief,” Yod declares around his own food. ”Not only are you our steadfast leader, but you’ve also faced Tian’s mother, and you’re eating his food! You deserve a medal or something.” He slurps around his noodles, smacking his lips together with a smile.

Phupha gives them both a flat look, picks up his spork, and takes a bite. It’s something chewy and salty and he’s not exactly sure what but he gives Yod and Rang a nod and takes a sip from his mug. Just to get a bit of moisture into his mouth, that’s all! It’s definitely not to flush down the unidentified mass of mystery. Nope.

The next bite floods his mouth with chili, and the next after that has something hard in it that could be bone or possibly a twig. He fishes it out of his mouth and flicks it behind him without closer inspection. If it was fried with everything else, it was probably fine.

Yod gives him an incredulous look and offers him part of his own lunch.

Phupha declines.

If Chief suspects something, he stays quiet.

Tian has a nagging feeling he probably should tell him why he needs to be driven to the town every once in a while and left in a nondescript corner with a promise of not following him but he wants to keep it a secret. Wants to keep this a secret.

He also could’ve just asked Chief to show him—or if he wanted to keep it as a surprise, he could’ve asked literally anyone in Phapundao. But he didn’t want to—this is something he needs to do by himself, to learn by himself. Chief has already taught him so much and, yeah, okay, fine, he also doesn’t want him to laugh.

Because he’s pretty sure that’s what would happen if he asked Chief to teach him how to darn socks.

His very first attempts had looked like sock poppets with hideous warts so he quietly disposed of the sad socks and pretended not to know anything about it when Chief asked if he’d seen his old socks. If the wart had been on the ankle, they could’ve at least been usable but a clump the size of his thumb under the heel? Um. Probably not good.

So, the next time they ran errands in town, Tian wandered away to find a store with more supplies and some basic instruction. He got both and some very judgemental looks from an old auntie who clearly thought Tian was a spoiled child to not even know how needles and yarn worked, which, well, true.

His next attempts were slightly better but still something he didn’t want to show anyone. He doesn’t give up, though, and sock by sock, bit by bit he gets better. Engineering studies seem to help to understand the pattern he should use to make the darning work, and he has a fleeting, slightly hysterical urge to call his mom to tell her that his studies hadn’t been a complete waste. (He doesn’t.)

The next time he visits the shop, he buys an embroidery book.

The old auntie raises a brow but says nothing, merely nods her head at the stand displaying colorful embroidery yarns. Tian buys a selection and hides them in the bottom of his bag.

He tries a simple flower first. Petals, stalk, leaves. The yarn gets tangled and loses its shine in his sweaty hands but the result is recognizable as a flower. It gets addictive surprisingly fast and Tian feels bad when he holes himself away and yelps, ”Nothing!” when Chief asks what he’s doing. He tries to make up to it the next night but he feels Chief’s worried eyes follow him in the following days.

It’s…it’s not like he wants to keep it a secret? He just wants to make sure he gets it right when he shows Chief. 

All he needs is a little more practice, that’s all.

”Did I do something?” Chief asks quietly one night, resting his cheek on Tian’s chest. ”I know I’ve been busy lately and I haven’t paid enough attention to you but—” he catches himself and swallows. ”I’ll do better, Tian.”

And that’s.

Just.

No.

Tian turns on the bedside lamp and pokes Chief in the nose. ”Okay, let me up,” he says. ”I wanted to keep this a secret a bit longer but that’s not going to work if you think you did something wrong because you didn’t.” He turns to rummage a box from under the bed, and then turns back to Chief, slightly sheepish.

”Look. I know you can’t wear this while in uniform, but.” He bites his lip, holding the small bundle in both hands. ”I wanted to make you something?”

He holds out his hands to Chief who, more than a bit confused, reaches out to take the hat. It’s camo green to go with his uniform, and into the front, Tian has embroidered flowers, the outline of the Phapundao cliff, and part of a hornbill pair. 

”This is why you’ve been acting strange?” Chief asks softly. 

Tian shrugs, suddenly self-conscious. ”Yeah. I’m sorry, it was stupid to make you worry. I just…I wanted to surprise you.” He tilts his head and asks, ”Do you like it?”

Chief brushes his fingers on the rim of the hat and trails the outline of the birds. ”No,” he says. ”No, Tian. I love it.”

It’s raining on your third day in Phapundao. The rain turns the whole landscape grey, the soft downpour like a curtain covering everything. Now you understand why the houses are built on stilts: the continuous rain seeps into the ground, and with it, the hard-packed earth transforms into mud that sticks everywhere. Before this, your only experience with houses built on stilts has been the yearly vacations.

This is not a vacation.

Tian’s umbrella is a massive apparatus that could put Teerayut’s biggest golf umbrellas to shame, although the taped appearance is more practical than beautiful. But what it lacks in looks, it makes up in durability and practicality, shielding you both as you slowly make your way to the school.

The ground is slippery and Tian stumbles, bursting into a bright laugh. You don’t see the appeal but Tian’s joy is infectious and you end up giggling along with him, and the smile stays on your faces the whole way to the school house.

”Where’s Dad?” Tian asks, hooking his arm through yours as if you’re a lady to be escorted around. ”Still in his meeting with Khama?”

”I suppose so,” you say, taking a look around. ”He said he’d meet up at the school anyway.”

”Oh, right.”

Tian leans his head against your shoulder for a fleeting moment and then you continue trudging forward in the mud. It’s cool and slimy when it seeps into your shoes but you get a sudden, wild thought to take off your shoes and feel the mud under your feet and between your toes. Strange.

You glance at the young man walking next to you. Tian is your youngest and sometimes it’s hard to remember he’s no longer a boy but a man with his own dreams and his own life he only recently has opened for you to visit. Lin, six years older than Tian, is a mother of two, secure in her work and her family life, and a devoted big sister with all the teasing rights the status allows. She’s never had dreams like Tian’s—never wanted to move away from Bangkok and into a remote village, to be contented with so little.

”Are you happy?” you blurt out and then snap your mouth shut because you have no idea where that came from.

Tian cocks his head at you. ”Yes,” he says simply. ”I know you worry, Mom. And I think I understand some of it—the kids here aren’t mine but I worry and I feel responsible anyway. What you feel must be a thousand times stronger.”

You pinch your lips together and sniff lightly, and then, ”Is he treating you right?”

Tian stops so suddenly you stumble a bit, and the umbrella sways sideways for a moment, letting warm rain on you in a soft mist. ”Mom, what?” Tian asks, looking genuinely confused.

”I’m sorry,” you say a bit stiffly, feeling silly. ”It’s been—it’s none of my business.” And yet, at the same time, you want to grip his hand, look into his eyes, and demand to know the truth, demand to know that your boy is happy and healthy and taken care of, that he has everything he needs when he’s so far away from you that you sometimes feel like you’ve forgotten his face.

Tian looks at you for a moment and then shakes his head. ”You’re my mom, of course it’s your business,” he says wryly and pecks a kiss on your cheek. ”And yeah, Chief is treating me right. There are lots of things we still need to talk about and figure out about each other but in general?” His face melts into a helplessly fond look. ”He’s so good to me, mom. You have no idea.”

You don’t tell him that you might have some idea. You’ve seen him hold your boy’s hand and cradle him close, you’ve seen him watch Tian with awe in his eyes. You’ve seen the way he banters back and forth with Tian and how he, despite his seemingly taciturn nature, gives as good as he gets.

What you don’t know is why on earth Tian keeps calling him by his title. Shouldn’t partners call each other by their names? 

Or, wait. Is that a…a sex thing?

Now you really wish you never started to wonder because you definitely did not need that in your mind. 

Heavens.

”This is the forest officers’ shirt,” Tian says, looking up at him and then back to the Phaphirun logo on the t-shirt. ”I can’t wear it!”

Phupha smirks and raises a brow. ”Officers’ wives wear them all the time. It’s not illegal.”

”I’m not your wife!” Tian hisses. His cheeks are red but he clutches the shirt close, sputtering when Phupha offers to take it back.

Later that night, after Tian has taken a shower, he wanders around the base looking a bit lost but trying to cover it. Phupha points him to sit at the table and puts a plate and mug in front of him, nodding to indicate he should just start eating. Tian rolls his eyes but starts to eat in silence.

Phupha watches him from the corner of his eye. His hair drips water droplets that trail down his neck until they meet the shirt’s collar and vanish, leaving behind a small wet patch. The shirt is slightly big on him and shows his collar bone and the hollow of his throat and—

Phupha jerks his eyes away. 

Tian is young and he’s volunteering and he’s not going to stay anyway, and even if that wasn’t true, Phupha doesn’t know where his preferences lie. Just because he hasn’t gotten any action in ages doesn’t mean he should just lust after their new teacher, no matter how pretty his smile or how he looks in Phupha’s shirt.

”—Chief?” 

”What?” he snaps, embarrassed to be caught daydreaming.

”I asked where I’m supposed to sleep anyway?”

Phupha’s mouth runs away without his consent. ”With me.”

Tian chokes on his tea. ”You—what?”

He clears his throat. ”I mean—in my room. You’ll take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”

”Oh,” Tian says. 

Phupha’s mind tells him he sounds disappointed. He tells his mind to shut the fuck up.

He’s awake for most of the night. To make sure, he tells himself, even though he’s not sure what he’s supposed to make sure. That there’ll be no intruders? That Tian will be safe? The mere thought that someone would attack him makes Phupha’s blood boil and he has to turn his head to check in on his guest, again. 

Tian sleeps soundly on his back with his head turned to Phupha, and apart from the small frown, his face is relaxed. His other hand is curled on his chest right next to the Phaphirun logo, and Phupha tamps down the urge to trace the logo. He knows exactly how soft the fabric is after countless washes in the stream but he doesn’t know how soft it feels to Tian and he would like to know. 

He clenches his jaw, settles back on his mattress, and closes his eyes. He should sleep and forget about any thoughts about Tian and Tian’s skin, and how his shirt now smells like Tian.

(He doesn’t sleep.)

Tian wears his shirt for bed for several nights in a row and it’s torture. Each night, Phupha watches him walk around in it, and each morning he wakes up to see a sleeping Tian with the shirt rucked up slightly to reveal his stomach. 

Phupha gets quite a lot of extra exercise in the mornings.

It doesn’t really help.

It all comes to a head on his day off. He drops Tian off at school and then returns to the base, steps into his room, and closes the door behind him. Tian’s bed—his bed—is unmade, the blanket thrown carelessly aside and the t-shirt in a crumpled heap on the pillow.

He really shouldn’t—

He sits on the bed, the frame squeaking as it always does, and reaches out to grab the shirt. He closes his eyes as he brings the shirt to his face and inhales, drawing in Tian’s familiar scent. It goes into his head and shoots heat into his cock, and he really really shouldn’t but—

He fumbles his pants open and hisses when his cock springs free. It takes him an embarrassedly short time to come and he smothers his groan in the shirt, feeling lightheaded by the intensity of it all. And when the tremors die down, he whispers, ”Fuck,” and redoes his pants.

”Where’s my shirt?” Tian asks that night. ”I mean—your. Your shirt.”

”It got stained,” Phupha says. ”I washed it. It’s still wet.”

”Oh. Pity,” Tian says. ”I like it.”

Yeah, Phupha thinks. I like you in it, too.

”Ohh, chocolate!” Rang crows, happily surprised. It’s been a long day and he’s exhausted, eagerly waiting to finally get some rest. A stack of chocolate bars and other snacks is a welcome sight.

”No,” Chief Phupha says and slams the drawer shut so fast that Rang only barely manages to snatch his fingers to safety.

”What do you mean, ’No’?” Rang complains. ”That was chocolate! I haven’t had chocolate in…in at least two weeks!”

”Those are not for you, Rang,” Chief Phupha says and raises a brow. ”And I’ve counted the chocolate. Just so that you know.”

Rang scowls. ”That’s just childish, you know,” he mutters but turns to get some of the cheap instant hot chocolate that’s reasonably good for its price, even if the humidity clumps it up.

Chief doesn’t dignify that with an answer.

”I could kill for some fried chicken skin,” Yod sighs. ”I don’t really know why but I’ve had this strange craving since yesterday morning.”

”Maybe you’re pregnant too,” Rang quips and then yelps and ducks out of the way when Yod goes to smack him to the back of his head. 

”Idiot,” Yod says. ”It’s my lovely wife that’s pregnant, not me.”

”I think I read somewhere that the husband can also get pregnancy cravings?” Tian muses and frowns. ”It sounds strange but I guess it could be true.”

Yod stares at him. Chief Phupha’s boyfriend (partner? Husband? Yod doesn’t know what’s the proper title here) has been such a good addition to the village, not to mention to Chief Phupha’s life, but he does have some very strange views at times. Must be his big city roots.

”Anyway, there’s some in that drawer,” Tian adds. 

From the corner of his eye, Yod sees Rang open his mouth to protest, but before he can ask what’s the matter, Chief Phupha says without looking up from the report, ”Those aren’t for you.”

Yod blinks and looks at Tian who shrugs. Rang gives him a commiserating little shake of his head.

Weird indeed.

Oh, no matter. He’ll give in to his craving later tonight on his way home.

”Where do you keep your snacks nowadays, Phu?” Nam asks and looks around. 

The kitchen area is as cluttered as it always is but he can also spy some changes. There’s a mug Phu got to Tian the next week after he moved back to Phapundao, and that’s a packet of instant noodles that will never be cooked because Phu bought them when he was miserable and pining and they reminded him of Tian. Phu has switched from some brand to the other simply because Tian likes the other more. And so on and so forth.

”Bring your own,” Phu says as he drops to sit down next to him. ”You’re always eating our stuff anyway.”

”Excuse you, I brought the booze!” Nam says, pressing a hand on his chest. ”I feel so under-appreciated right now.”

Phu snorts and takes a long pull from his bottle.

”No but seriously. Snacks?”

Phu rolls his eyes before he gets up and opens a drawer on the small side cabinet, moves some packages around, and throws a bag of trail mix at Nam.

”Hey!” he says, catching the bag. ”Why so stringy, Phu? That drawer was full of snacks!”

Phu sits back down and takes another pull from his bottle. ”They’re not for you,” he says mildly. ”Shut up and enjoy the nuts, Nam.”

Tian loves his students and he loves spending time with them but sometimes they are a lot. Especially when they have a field day and spend the day walking around, hiking up and down the mountainous terrain. And he’s been slowly gaining strength in these past months after returning to Chief but the fact is, his borrowed heart, while stronger than his own, is still a borrowed heart, and the altitude, heat, and humidity take a toll on him.

Which means that he’s wiped when he comes home, and all he wants to do is to starfish on their squeaky bed and sleep for a week. He settles to dropping to sit opposite Yod.

”Take a nap,” Chief says softly. ”I’ll make something to eat.”

”I can’t take a nap when I’m starving,” Tian complains. ”It’s distracting.”

Chief nods at the small side cabinet. ”There are snacks in that drawer. Pick something and then take a nap.”

With a small groan, Tian drags himself back to his feet and then lets out a happy, surprised sound. ”These are all my favorites, Chief—ohh chocolate!”

”Wait, snacks?” Yod says, confused. ”I thought those weren’t for us?”

”They aren’t,” Chief says.

Tian stops in the middle of biting into the chocolate. ”But you said—”

”They’re not for them,” Chief says. ”Everything in that drawer is for Tian and for Tian only.”

Tian isn’t sure whether to giggle, cover his face in embarrassment, or kiss Chief. He opts to flee into their room instead.

(Yod makes sure everyone knows just WHY the snack drawer is off limits.) 

”I thought he’d be taller,” Lin whispers when she spots Tian wading his way through the patrons. 

The bar they’re meeting in is a relatively busy one, something Tian recommended when Lin messaged him and told him she and Prem would like to meet. It’s been about three years since Tian crashed and ended up having his surgery, and not soon after, he up and left, taking off to a remote indigenous village in the North as a volunteer teacher from all things. Lin never understood that but hey, she isn’t the one who almost died.

And then Tian flew over to America for two whole years, only to return to said remote indigenous village. And, apparently, he wasn’t as straight as he always pretended to be because now he’s in a relationship with the village’s…uh…guard? Lin honestly isn’t sure, and Tul hadn’t been that helpful when she’d tried to ask.

Prem takes a sip from his drink, letting out an agreeing sound. ”He looks young?”

Tian spots them and waves, then leans to say something to the other young man before making his way over. ”Hi!” he says with a grin. ”It’s been ages! How are you guys?”

After Tian and Prem exchange a manly one-armed hug with a couple of slaps on the back, Lin rolls her eyes and draws him in a quick hug before giving him an appraising once-over. ”You look good,” she says with a nod. ”Living in nature clearly suits you.” It’s true: Tian has a healthy glow on his cheeks and he has the look of someone who’s used to walking around for hours. Tenacity, that’s the word.

”Thanks,” Tian says. ”You, too.” He sits down and looks back at the bar where his boyfriend is waiting in line. ”So, how are things? Tell me everything!”

By the time Tian’s boyfriend comes over with a tray and drinks for them all, Prem has launched into a long-winded complaint about the incompetent professor at his university. Tian’s boyfriend jumps in, and in no time they’re comparing notes on academia and the woes of essays they’re both late in turning in, making both Tian and Lin shake their heads and roll their eyes at their significant others.

”Should you be drinking that?” Lin suddenly asks, taking in Tian’s luridly colorful drink.

”Oh, no, this is a mocktail,” Tian says. ”Nam would have my hide if I drank.”

”Not to mention what he’d do to any of us if we let you have any alcohol,” Tian’s boyfriend adds. ”Nam’s the village volunteer doctor. He takes Tian’s health very seriously.”

”I don’t understand why!” Tian laments, eyes wide and innocent. ”I only got shot a bit!”

”You what?!” Lin exclaims. ”Shot? When? Tian, what the hell!”

She’s so shocked she completely misses when a man beelines to their table, stopping behind Tian. He’s tall, stern-looking with piercing eyes, and he packs some serious muscle. She frowns, opens her mouth to ask if they can help him, and then he bends down and—kisses Tian on top of his head.

Wait—what?

With a blinding smile, Tian tilts his head back and the man’s stern face melts into a smile and he presses a kiss on the corner of Tian’s mouth.

”Sorry I’m late,” he says to Tian and then to her and Prem, ”Nice to meet you. I’m Phupha.”

”Hold on—I thought—you are Tian’s man?” Prem says.

Phupha frowns slightly, looking both confused and slightly dangerous. ”Yes?”

”Did you think—oh, no, no, no, this is Longtae!” Tian says with a chuckle. ”He’s the village Chief’s son. A friend. He offered to drive me here when Chief was working late.”

Well, that sort of explains it…because Lin thought Tian isn’t comfortable with his relationship and that’s why they sat so far apart. Now, though? He’s practically sitting on Phupha’s lap, his boyfriend's arms securely around his midriff, head resting against Phupha’s shoulder. There’s nothing uncomfortable about them at all, on the contrary. They look very much in love.

Good for Tian.

The sky is blindingly blue with a couple of white, fluffy clouds that look more like paintings than real clouds. Tian blinks lazily, then sighs, and closes his eyes again. 

Chief lets out a quiet, questioning hum that resonates through Tian’s back and into his chest, making something warm curl happily inside him.

”Nothing,” he murmurs and turns his head to press a kiss under Chief’s jaw and then stays there, smiling into the warm skin.

He feels pleasantly sore and aching after Chief teased and made love to him for what felt like hours before gathering Tian’s blissed-out body in his arms and carrying him into the bath. Although ”bath” is an understatement: they’re relaxing in a pool the size of the whole room as the late afternoon sunlight filters through the artfully arranged curtains, a selection of finger food and different soft drinks placed right next to the pool.

Chief has his arm around him and Tian twines his fingers with Chief’s, smiling when Chief squeezes his hand lightly. It’s something he tends to do when they’re holding hands—almost as if he feels he needs that small gesture of reassurance, a proof that he’s here and Tian’s here, they’re here together. And yet, it’s easy being with him just like this, just the two of them, after everything they’ve been through. 

He shivers slightly when Chief’s fingers trail up his thigh, dance across his hip and to his chest, brushing the scar on his chest. That’s also something Chief tends to do—trail his fingers along the length of that rugged scar, follow the line from Tian’s stomach up to the hollow of his throat. At first, it felt scary to let him so close, to let Chief see the angry red slash that took so many years to start to fade, but Tian has finally come to understand what Chief’s attention means. It isn’t morbid curiosity, but more like awe, reverence, or gratitude.

(”It means you’re still here,” Chief whispered one night, a couple of weeks after Tian braved to take his shirt off. ”It means you survived, you endured, you have a second chance. It means I get to have you.”)

”Cold?” Chief murmurs, splaying his hand on Tian’s chest like he’s cradling the whole of him in his palm.

”Never with you,” Tian whispers.

”I’m sorry, what?” Nam says flatly, taking in the scene.

”Look, Doctor Nam! It’s the Green Giant!” Meejoo yells, then dissolves into helpless giggles.

”I can see that,” Nam says slowly.

Phu is, indeed, green. His face is bright green and with the light grey shirt and brown vest…thing or, whatever, he looks a lot like the animated character in that one American movie franchise.

The question is, why?

”He volunteered,” Tian says cheerfully, materializing next to him with a glass of water for him and a soda for Nam. ”I’ve been pushing the kids recently to get their test scores better, and I promised them something extra cool if they made it.” He glances at Nam, looking a bit sheepish. ”When they actually made it, I was a bit of a loss of what to do. They wanted a carnival.”

”And now Phu is dressed up as…”

”As Shrek, yes,” Tian says. ”Apparently I’m very cute when I’m near tears.”

Nam narrows his eyes at him. ”You, my friend, are a devious, devious man.”

Tian gives him a wide, innocent smile. ”I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then he turns to Phu and calls, ”Chief—I mean, Green Giant! I have some water for you!”

As Nam shakes his head, Phu shrugs his shoulders hard enough to dislodge Ayi who falls back with a yelp, only to be securely held in place by Phu’s strong grip on his calves. The boy’s face turns red as blood rushes down but his pose does nothing to the way he laughs, hanging upside down from Phu’s shoulders.

With a wide grin, Tian helps Phu to gulp down the water, then pecks a kiss on his green cheek, earning himself green lips and a chorus of ”EWWWW” from the kids.

And then Phu roars and barges back into whatever game the kids had cooked up.

”He’s good with them,” Tian says with a fond look in his eyes.

”Yeah…” Nam says slowly, giving the other man a long, considering look. ”Phu really likes kids. Like. Really.”

”Hm?” Tian says, distracted, as he watches Phu.

”Oh, nothing,” Nam muses, hiding a smile. 

He’ll give them a couple of years. Tops. And then he’ll be the best uncle to ever uncle.

”I don’t care, we can fix this!” a slightly panicked voice said from the supposedly empty school. 

Rang frowned and cocked his head. The kids weren’t supposed to be at the school this late, and they definitely weren’t supposed to be there with the lights out. 

”Be quiet!” another kid stage-whispered. ”They’ll hear us!”

”We can fix this, we can! I know we can!”

Rang sighed. Whatever the kids were attempting to fix would probably benefit from some adult supervising. So, he turned and walked to the school, swallowing a huff of laughter as everything went suspiciously silent.

”Do you need help with your fixing?” he asked softly.

”…no?”

”Hm. Are you sure? It sounded like you needed help.”

”I didn’t mean to!” another kid said, clearly close to tears.

Rang leaned against the wall next to the window, carefully keeping his back to the kids and whatever secret they were trying to protect. ”If you’re afraid that I’ll rat you out, you don’t have to worry. Well, unless whatever you’re doing is dangerous to you or to the village—then as a ranger, I’m obliged to step in. But since you’re here and you’re Mr. Seetian only returned a couple of days ago, I’m guessing it has something to do with him.” He paused. ”Or Chief Phupha. Or both.”

”It’s the drawing,” one of the kids said, sounding heartbroken. ”We wanted to frame it properly.”

”So that it would be like a real painting!” another kid added.

Rang nodded several times. ”I see. What happened?” A flurry of distraught voices tried to explain all at once, so he raised a hand and with, ”Wait, wait, wait, one at a time!”

”—it tore—”

”—and we tried to fix it—”

”—but it just made it worse—”

”—and now Mr. Seetian’s head is gone—”

”—Chief Phupha will be angry—”

”—Mr. Seetian will be sad—”

”—or Chief Phupha will be sad—”

”—and that would be even worse!”

”Um,” Rang said, feeling slightly overwhelmed. ”And Chief Phupha being sad would be really bad, yes. I agree. I’m just—” he paused to think for a moment. ”Can I see it? The painting?”

There was a bit of awkward shuffling and then Meejoo stepped forward, handing him a mangled paper. It was wrinkled and as the kids said, part of it was torn off, but the drawing itself was beautiful: it was of Tian and Chief Phupha on the meadow with a kite, and whichever of the kids was the artist, they’d managed to pin down their expressions perfectly.

”Did you draw this?” Rang asked Meejoo. 

She shook her head and pointed behind him. ”Khaonueng did it.”

Rang nodded and turned around to give the kid an approving thumbs-up. ”This is really good. Like. Really good.”

Khaonueng grinned. ”Thanks!” he said. ”It’s just sad it was torn.”

”It was an accident!” Inta said. ”I’m sure Kalae didn’t mean it.”

”I was just trying to smooth it down,” Kalae said, looking like he was about to cry.

”Hey, no, we can definitely fix this,” Rang said. ”All we need is just a bit more supplies!”

Rang tried to avoid the vicinity of Chief Phupha’s room on principle, especially after Tian came back. Having too much information on your colleagues’ private lives was as embarrassing as it might be hilarious, but having too much information on your boss’ sex life was just too mortifying. He’d made the mistake of taking a shortcut once. That was enough.

But this time he made it to his business to pry, using a fruit delivery as an excuse to peek into the room, and feeling extremely smug when he saw the framed artwork on the wall.

Tian noticed what he was looking at and smiled fondly. ”They were so excited to gift that to us,” he said. ”I don’t know where they got the idea to make it a collage but it’s so cute. They are so cute.”

As Tian gushed about the gift, Rang didn’t feel it necessary to tell him where the idea had come from. Instead, he nodded and smiled, while gazing at the art piece where the torn drawings of Tian and Chief Phupha were connected by a red string that ran to the kite soaring above their heads, and around them were dried flowers, tea leaves, and hornbill feathers.

”That one looks like a fox.”

”Hm.”

”You know, Chief, when you asked me for a walk, I assumed we’d walk around hand in hand and perhaps stop every now and then to kiss—”

”I held your hand. And I kissed you at least three times.”

”At least three, he says! I didn’t know you were counting!”

”I can kiss you again if that would make you feel better.”

”If that would—Chief. Are you making fun of me?”

”Absolutely not.”

”That’s a bird. And that’s a banana.”

”…a banana?”

”I said what I said.”

”Doesn’t look like a banana to me.”

”Oh?”

”But it does look kind of familiar…”

”CHIEF!”

”A bus. A flower. A teacup. A smile. An abstract interpretation of the universe. You’re not even listening to me anymore, are you?”

”…”

”We were supposed to take turns naming the cloud shapes, remember? You can’t name clouds if your eyes are closed and your head is on my chest, Chief. Did you fall asleep?”

”…no?”

”You can, if you want to.”

”I don’t.”

”Hm?”

”I don’t want to fall asleep. I want to lay here under the afternoon sun and listen to your heart.”

”It’s not mine, though.”

”Tian, we’ve talked about this. It is your heart. If I could, I would so want to have Torfun back but if it meant losing you? I don’t think I could make that choice.”

”Chief—”

”Tian.”

”Fine.”

”Don’t pout.”

”Sometimes I still feel her.”

”Hm.”

”Not—it’s not like in the beginning. I looked into the mirror and saw her looking back, and my heart would lurch like it was momentarily out of synch. It’s not that anymore…it’s more like—

”She’s watching over us.”

”Yes! I—you feel it too?”

”Not anymore, no. In the beginning…It felt like she was there, right behind the corner. The kids felt it, too.”

”…I hope she liked what she saw.”

”I’m sure she did.”

”That looks like Nam’s nose.”

”What? Where?”

”And those are Rang’s ears.”

”Now you’re just making things up.”

”Of course I’m not! I’m just naming the cloud shapes.”

”Don’t peek,” Phupha warned, glancing at Tian from the corner of his eye. 

”I’m not!” Tian said indignantly, instantly jerking his head in a way that belied his words. ”Where are we going, anyway?”

”It’s a surprise,” Phupha said, perhaps for the fifth time since he’d herded Tian into the car and put the blindfold on. ”It won’t be long now, I promise.”

”You said that, like, two hours ago,” Tian grumbled, lolling his head against the headrest.

Phupha snorted. ”More like 35 minutes ago. But according to the GPS, it’ll be…another 25 minutes more. So, not long.”

Tian let out a dramatic sigh and turned his head in Phupha’s direction. ”Why are you doing this, Chief? I don’t mean to sound ungrateful but…you do know I love to spend time with you, wherever you are? I don’t need fancy trips or anything like that.”

Phupha felt his cheeks heat. ”I know,” he grumbled. ”I just. I want to. Take you to places.”

”Chief…” Tian said, sounding helplessly fond.

Truth was, Phupha liked this. He enjoyed packing Tian in a car and taking him to a place where he’d never been before and then watching his face as he took in all things new. Watching Tian was one of his favorite hobbies anyway. And finding out about this? Phupha couldn’t wait to see Tian’s eyes when he saw the parade.

”Okay, steady…watch your head…” Phupha grinned as Tian snorted at his words. ”You know what I mean.”

”Can I finally take the blindfold off?” Tian asked, cocking his head. 

”Um…in a moment…okay. Here!” 

Tian blinked for a long while as his eyes adjusted to light again and then he paused, taking a look around. ”Bo Sang Village Umbrella Festival,” he read slowly, turning around to give Phupha an incredulous look. ”Umbrella Festival? I’ve never even heard of it!”

”It’s a local thing,” Phupha said. ”There’ll be a bicycle parade later today, and some dancing and food stalls and stuff like that. But I was thinking about painting our own umbrellas first?”

”Really?” Tian said, eyes wide with wonder. ”You planned this so that we could paint our own umbrellas?”

Phupha shrugged, feeling suddenly awkward. Was it stupid? Or too childish? Perhaps this wasn’t a good id—

With a breathless laugh, Tian threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. ”You want to paint umbrellas with me,” he whispered. 

Phupha swallowed and nodded, wrapping Tian in his arms. 

”Yeah,” he said. ”I want to paint umbrellas with you.”

The Phapirun base didn’t have an internet connection, obviously. It barely had a landline and a power outlet to charge their phones to act as glorified cameras (because there was also no mobile coverage, obviously). Dr. Nam’s clinic had internet but it was (supposed) to be used strictly for medical and patient-related searches because of the data cost. So, whenever Tian wanted to check his email for whatever reason, he’d need to get down the mountain and into one of the city’s internet cafés. And that required negotiating someone to be his designated driver because he wasn’t allowed to drive, which, rude.

Sometimes it was Yod who took him, sometimes even Rang, on the odd occasion that Chief let him drive. Once or twice Tian had had the chance to enjoy Nam’s driving which left him somewhat shaken and with a fervent gratitude to be still alive because the good doctor did not drive safely. Most often, though, Tian got a ride from Chief who said it was for official business but everyone knew it was just to have a date out of the others’ prying eyes.

This is how they’d ended up here, again: Tian leaning closer to the monitor and Chief leaning closer to Tian.

”Is there any real mail for you?” Chief asked, amused.

”What do you mean? It’s all real,” Tian said, clicking on the next unread mail.

”Really? Win a million dollars with no risks, How to stay young and slim and trim, Tell us about the body you want to have and we’ll make it happen in two weeks—” Chief read over his shoulder. ”Why would I want to wait for two weeks to have the body I want? It’s right here!” He hugged Tian from behind, making him giggle.

”No, look…this is embarrassing—”

”I don’t see why.”

Tian glared at him mock-angrily. ”No, stop it. I meant… I like to read these?”

Chief cocked his head, dragged a chair over, and sat down. ”You like to read junk mail. Why on earth would you want to do that?”

Tian shrugged, feeling suddenly embarrassed. ”It’s just. They’re so stupid. And colorful. And they promise ludicrous things and unrealistic results, and it’s all so surreal!”

Chief leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest, knowing exactly how it made Tian feel. ”You mean, you wouldn’t want me to be up to 68% more endowed by the end of the month,” he asked, raising a brow.

Tian gave him a withering look. ”Your cock is beautiful and perfect exactly as it is,” he said bluntly. ”If it was any bigger, you’d break me.”

”I absolutely wouldn’t want to break you,” Chief said seriously. ”68% bigger would also be unwieldy. I’d need to buy new underwear.”

”And pants,” Tian said.

”And pants,” Chief agreed, still dead serious. ”I would also probably faint from blood loss whenever I—”

”I’m sorry,” a timid voice said from the other side of the partition, and an elderly aunt peered at them from over the rims of her glasses. ”I’m trying to write an electronic mail to my grandson and, well. You are distracting.”

Tian felt his cheeks burn up and he barely dared to look at Chief when they scrambled to apologize and bow and apologize again before fleeing the cafe, only to start to hysterically laugh as soon as they were in the car.

(The next time Tian needed to check his email, they chose a different internet café.)

In hindsight, Phupha doesn’t really know why he thought Tian would take space in his sleep; to starfish on the bed with his hands and legs thrown wide, taking as much space on the bed as he does in Phupha’s mind. Perhaps it’s just that—he occupies so much of it now that it’s only natural to assume he’d be just as loud and there in sleep, too. Or perhaps it’s some leftover rich kid scorn Phupha is still fighting to his utmost annoyance.

But the fact is that Tian takes up very little space when he’s asleep.

Usually, when they finally make it to bed (and sleeping), Tian is out like a light, awake the one moment and deeply asleep the next, relaxed and trusting against Phupha’s side. Nowadays, he even stretches out a little, pushing into Phupha like an affectionate cat, trying to get as much skin contact as possible, but it wasn’t always like that. Back when they started sleeping together—before starting sleeping together—Tian curled on his side and arms crossed on his chest. It looked somewhat uncomfortable but the reason for it took Phupha an embarrassingly long time to understand.

Tian was used to sleeping on his side, holding his arms close to his body and curling into a ball because of his heart. He grew up feeling like his heart would beat out of his chest and that he could never get quite enough air in his lungs—always trying to fight his body’s limits, always falling just that bit short. Try as he might, Phupha is having a hard time imagining how it must have felt, lying alone in his big, comfortable bed while feeling like you were about to die.

It must have been devastating. And scary.

Tian lets out a small, grumpy noise in his sleep and scrunches his nose, and the early morning light makes the lines on the bridge of his nose stand out like they’re painted with ink.

It’s still so hard to think that Phupha could’ve lost all this. If it wasn’t for Tian’s stubbornness and bull-headed determination, Phupha would’ve turned away and let him go, never learning how it was to love, how it was to have someone with him, how it was to live. He sometimes wonders why Tian chose that—chose him—from all the people in the world.

He could’ve had anyone.

And he chose Phupha.

Tian’s skin is soft and warm under the blanket and Phupha’s t-shirt. Phupha lets his fingers brush the dip of his hip, trailing the curve he’s grown so fond of, settling with his palm splayed over Tian’s bottom. It fits in his hand perfectly.

He feels a slight shiver run through Tian as he slowly comes awake and mutters something under his breath.

”What?” Phupha murmurs.

”I said, it’s way too early for any of that, and if you want anything to happen, you’ll have to do all the work. I’m going back to sleep,” Tian grumbles with his eyes shut and an unhappy frown between his brows.

Phupha lets out a soft chuckle. ”Nah, I’m just admiring my treasure,” he whispers and kisses him.

Tian’s only reply is a snore.

They both turn quieter the closer the date comes, quieter and more withdrawn. They see the gradual change in each other and try to be there for each other but they both ache in ways the other can’t quite understand. But they try. 

On the morning of the anniversary, they light a candle and incense and say a silent prayer in their minds, and then Tian hugs Phupha tightly, allows him to tuck his face in the crook of his neck and breathe for a moment, and if his shirt gets wet with silent tears, he doesn’t mention it.

”Will you be alright?” Tian asks Phupha, cupping his cheek with his whole heart in his eyes.

”Eventually,” Phupha answers, then turns his head just enough to press a kiss on Tian’s palm.

Today, the whole village feels the loss again and they honor the memory with stories and songs, and the kids draw their favorite things they can then show everyone. Tian, feeling like an outsider again, tries to fade into the background but Phupha doesn’t let him because this is not his fault—has never been his fault—and he’s allowed to be a part of the memorial.

Tian, still feeling like an outsider, smiles and ducks his head, trying and not quite succeeding to hide the brittle shards he still carries inside him, fervently grateful when Phupha tucks him under his arm and lets him breathe until he no longer feels like he’s about to fall into pieces. 

Later, when the village is asleep and their presence is no longer needed, they hike up to the Phapundao cliff and count all the stars they can see, pointing them out to each other with smiles on their faces and tears clinging to their lashes; counting and counting until all they can see is the vastness of space and millions and millions of stars.

”Will you be alright?” Phupha asks Tian, kissing his forehead.

”Eventually,” Tian whispers, hiding his face in Phupha’s chest.

For on this day, Phupha misses the friend who brought laughter and light and happiness to the village and who gave so much of herself without expecting anything in return; and Tian mourns the woman who died so that Tian could live.

And, eventually, they will be alright. 

The first time it happens, Nam thinks it’s an accident.

”We don’t have any,” the auntie deadpans even though Nam can see the fruit piled in a small basket behind her.

”You…do, though?” Nam tries.

The auntie raises an unimpressed brow.

He sighs. ”Well, fine. Phu’s going to be angry though and Tian’s sad eyes are a lethal weapon of stupidly high calibre.”

”Wait—you know the young couple?” the auntie interrupts his grumbling.

”Yes? I’ve been here with them before.”

The auntie waves her hand. ”Ah, phsch, you can’t expect me to remember all young men who buy my produce,” she says dismissively. ”Where are they, anyway?”

Faced with the auntie’s glare, Nam folds like a wet tissue. ”Phu took a bad fall and broke his leg. Tian is beside himself with worry and refuses to leave his side. They’re disgusting.”

The auntie’s hands fly to her mouth and she breathes out a short prayer with wide eyes. ”You have to take them some fruit, they’ll need fresh produce to stay healthy,” she fusses, packing a bag as full as possible. ”You should get fresh spices as well. Just to be sure,” she adds and shoves the bag into his arms. When Nam tries to pay, she shakes her head and says, ”It’s for them. No need to pay.”

(Nam briefly wonders if this is the reason Phu and Tian have so much stuff in their kitchen.)

It happens again. 

And again.

And—

By the time Nam finally makes it to the car, he can barely see from behind the produce piled on his arms. Somehow, Phu and Tian have managed to charm not only the elderly aunties but pretty much everyone at the market (apparently something about Tian’s wide-eyed wonder and Phu’s smitten face made everyone soft), and they all are so very concerned about Phu’s injury and how Tian is holding up. 

Nam is never going to let them live this down. 

If there’s something Tian did not expect, it is to open the door at seven am on a Saturday morning to a police officer while wearing Chief’s Phapirun t-shirt and pajama boxers with yogurt on them.

”Yes?” he says hesitantly, gripping his coffee mug.

”Is this man your acquaintance?” the stocky female officer asks and steps aside to reveal a sheepish Chief gripping his phone and a duffel bag. ”We found him wandering in the area trying to ask if anyone had a charger.”

”Um, surprise?” Chief says with a small wave.

Tian blinks. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then frowns, and finally bursts out, ”Chief, what the hell are you doing here? With the police?!”

”…I got lost.”

”You’re a forest ranger!” Tian exclaims, throwing his hands up and sloshing coffee everywhere. ”How can you get lost?”

”Tian, I’m a forest ranger,” Chief says, slightly exasperated. ”I know my way in a jungle but not in here! ”

”I take it you know each other?” the officer says in English. ”I’d like to ask you to have this conversation in English, please.”

”Ah, sorry,” Tian replies in English. ”This is Chief—I mean, Phupha Viriyanon. He’s my boyfriend and apparently, also an idiot.”

The officer raises a brow. ”Chief of what, exactly?”

Tian points a finger at the Phapirun logo on his t-shirt. ”He’s a forest ranger in Thailand, stationed in a national park close to the border in the North.”

”And the reason he was wandering around instead of coming straight to you?” the officer asks narrowing her eyes at Chief.

”It was a surprise,” Chief says in his slightly halting English. ”Phone data was more expensive than I thought. And I forgot to load extra battery.”

Tian shakes his head. ”Like I said, an idiot. You’re lucky I love you.”

Chief ducks his head a bit and looks up at him from under his lashes. ”I’m sorry?”

The officer clears her throat. ”Well. Everything seems to be in order. You, sir, better make sure you charge your extra battery and prepare yourself a bit better for surprise trips in the future, alright?”

”Yes, ma’am,” Chief says.

”You two have a good day.”

”Thank you, officer!” Tian calls after her before turning to face Chief. ”Well? Get in.”

Chief walks in, drops his bag, and then just…hovers. 

”Don’t just stand there,” Tian says as he walks past him back into the kitchen. ”Do you want coffee?”

”Yeah,” Chief says. He stops by the kitchen door and takes in the space. ”This looks nice.”

”Dad got this to me,” Tian says over his shoulder as he busies himself with a cup and milk and coffee and the whole Chief is actually here thing. ”He’s feeling guilty, I think, so he got me a studio close to the school and a monthly allowance big enough so that I don’t have to worry about anything.”

He turns and nearly collides with Chief’s chest, sloshing coffee all over—again. With a small huff, he sets the cup back on the counter and then looks back at Chief. 

”Hi,” he says softly.

Chief smiles and replies, just as softly, ”Hi.”

Chief doesn’t like big cities. It’s a fact Tian has known almost from the moment when they first met back when he arrived at Phapundao. Chief is a country boy, a small village boy, dedicated to nature and the woods of the North. He dislikes the crowds, the noise, the pollution, the buzzing sense of time running out as he so aptly puts it. Big cities make his skin crawl, he once complained to Tian.

But he’s willing to take a step out of his comfort zone for good reasons. Like Torfun’s funeral. Or seeing Tian off.

Or, like now, meeting Tian’s family.

He tries to hide his nerves but Tian knows him well enough by now to read him like a book. And this book is screaming in big, bold letters just how uncomfortable and scared Chief feels right now. So, Tian decided to take matters into his own hands.

”Stop here,” he says to the driver his father sent. ”You can take our luggage to the house. Chief and I will be in later.”

”But Mr. Sopasitsakun said—”

”I know what my father said,” Tian says firmly. ”Please, stop the car.”

The driver shakes his head and mutters something under his breath which Tian ignores. He gives Chief a small smile and takes his hand, tugs him out of the car as soon as it stops.

”Tian, what—why are we here?”

”Come on,” he says and squeezes his hand briefly. ”Trust me.” 

A short walk finds them in a small, lush park that hides them from the traffic. It obviously has nothing on the great woods of Chief’s childhood home but it’s a respite, a lungful of fresh air after being cramped on a plane and car for most of the day.

They sit on a park bench, still holding hands, and Tian rests his temple on Chief’s shoulder. ”This is nice, right?” he asks and closes his eyes.

”Yeah,” Chief says after a moment. ”Thank you.”

”Hey, you don’t have to do that,” Tian says, craning his neck to look at him. ”I know you don’t want to be here. I know you don’t like the South and that big cities creep you out. And I know you’re still apprehensive of my family, which you don’t have to be but…I get it. Anyway, if taking you to sit at a park for an hour or three helps you to relax, then I’m happy to do that.” He reaches up a bit to peck a kiss on Chief’s cheek. ”No need to thank me.”

Chief ducks his head and his hand clenches in Tian’s hold. ”I know,” he says quietly. ”But I—” He stops to let out a frustrated huff. ”Sometimes I still…” he sighs again and bites his lip, searching for words.

”Sometimes I still think you’ll realize you made the wrong choice?” Tian asks softly. When Chief looks sharply at him, he shrugs, slightly sheepish. ”Yeah, me too.”

”Tian, I wouldn’t—”

Tian raises a finger. ”If you can think stupid things, I’m also entitled to think stupid things,” he says. ”We’re just a pair of fools, aren’t we?” He bops Chief’s nose with his finger and grins at Chief’s unimpressed glare.

A mother pushing a fashionable stroller and keeping an eye on a toddler walks slowly by, her eyes flickering over them. Tian gives her a wide smile and a slight nod and she blinks, slightly taken aback, and shoots him a small smile in return. The toddler bends over to examine a rock, an insect, or a blade of grass, and from the corner of his eye, Tian sees Chief cock his head slightly. He takes a glance and—

Oh.

Oh, but he really likes the look on Chief’s face; the way his eyes have gone soft and his mouth curls into a small smile.

Tian looks at the toddler again.

Oh. Yes.

It hits him out of nowhere, a sense of dread he can’t quite shake and it takes him a surprisingly long to realize where it comes from.

He realizes it the moment Tian turns, grins, and raises his hand.

The kite.

Phupha stumbles as his knees go weak for a moment and he has to blink several times to clear the spots that dance in front of his eyes. It’s long enough for Tian to notice and he hurries back, a worried frown on his face.

”Chief?” he asks, tilting his head a bit.

He shakes his head and tries to smile it off but, yeah, he should know by now that Tian’s concern can’t be that easily brushed away.

”It’s. Your shirt,” he finally manages. It’s inadequate but for the moment, it’s the only thing he’s able to push through his clenched jaw.

”My shirt?” Tian asks slowly, glancing down and tugging the fabric slightly. ”What’s wrong with my shirt?”

”Nothing,” Phupha says as his hands clench without his permission. He sees Tian’s eyes follow the motion and is in no way surprised when he steps closer and presses himself against Phupha’s chest. His arms go around him and squeeze perhaps a bit too tight but Tian says nothing, just lets Phupha hug him.

”You’re wearing the same shirt,” he manages to whisper when he has his breathing under control again. ”As the day you collapsed.”

”Oh,” Tian says slowly. ”And this is the kite field.” 

Phupha nods against the crook of his neck. 

”Do you want to leave?”

”No.”

Tian lets out a soft breath that tickles his ear. ”Okay.”

They stand like that for a long, long time, breathing in sync as Tian’s thumb rubs a slow circle on his neck and Phupha draws in the strawberry scent of his shampoo. 

It isn’t until Tian’s breathing starts to even out more and he goes soft and pliant in his arms that Phupha realizes he’s practically fallen asleep. For a moment, he’s mortified—what kind of a boyfriend even is he, getting all stressed out by a field and then making Tian fall asleep on his feet!—but then he shrugs it off and lowers Tian gently on the ground. The memory of Tian on the ground wearing the same shirt flashes through his mind but he brushes it away. That was then—Tian is here, now, alive and well, and he’s just asleep, not collapsed.

To give his hands something to do, Phupha gathers a handful of long grass blades and some wildflowers and starts weaving a wreath. It’s something he picked up years ago from his mother, and even though it’s been ages since the last time, his fingers still remember the repetitive movements. Every now and then, he glances at Tian, the color on his cheeks and the relaxed curve of his mouth, and then he has to look at his wreath again when his heart clenches from everything he feels.

He wonders if his mother would’ve liked Tian.

Tian wears his wreath proudly and merely smiles when the kids tease him about it, looking at Phupha with his whole heart in his eyes.

The young man was cute, Polo had to admit. He had the kind of face that was made to smile and wide doe eyes that could go from wide and innocent to heavy-lidded fuck-me eyes in a moment. Not Polo’s type but they appreciated the aesthetics anyway.

”Could you cook up a ridiculously over-the-top mocktail for me?” Doe Eyes asked, cocking his head.

”Sure,” Polo said. ”Any preferences? Allergies?”

The man pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. ”Nope,” he then said, leaning his elbows on the bar and resting his chin on his hand. ”Surprise me.”

Polo raised a brow. They had a good feeling about the man so they hoped he wouldn’t try to hit on them. Part of being a bartender, yeah, but it had gotten old years ago and now they were just bored if someone tried to get their number.

”I could surprise you,” an older man said in a low voice, sliding to sit next to Doe Eyes.

”No thank you,” Doe Eyes said almost distractedly, leaning slightly to the side to get a better view of the TV.

The older man hummed, undeterred. ”So, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a bar like this?” Doe Eyes gave him a look from the corner of his eye but didn’t otherwise react. The old creep clearly didn’t get the hint but inched closer, nodding at the drink Polo set in front of Doe Eyes. ”What’s with the lemonade? Let me buy you a proper drink.”

”No thank you,” Doe Eyes said again.

The Creep ignored Doe Eyes’ comment and snapped his fingers despite Polo being right there. ”Give the boy a glass of…hmm. Whatever is the most expensive.”

Polo gave the Creep a look and then another look at Doe Eyes who seemed to be neither freaking out nor into the Creep, and asked, ”Do you want booze, darling?”

Doe Eyes smiled slightly and shook his head. ”I don’t drink.” His eyes slid back to the TV and he said, ”Could you turn that up a bit, please?”

”Sure,” Polo said and upped the volume. It was an interview of the event at the same hotel the bar was in, something about The National Ranger Association, the dangers of the job, and so on and so forth. The ranger was a stern-looking man in his mid-thirties, clearly uncomfortable in front of the cameras despite his well-cut suit and good looks. He was talking pretty passionately about nature and wildlife which, yeah, Polo could see how that would make someone attractive. Doe Eyes at least seemed impressed, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by.

The Creep rolled his eyes. ”Anyone can be a tough guy when handed a machine gun,” he huffed when the interview was over. ”It takes a real man to actually handle a gun or to stare down the barrel.” He took a drink and then leaned close to Doe Eyes again. ”Would you like to try?” the Creep asked. ”To hold my gun?”

Doe Eyes leaned away from him. ”I think I’ll pass,” he said. ”Being shot at once was enough for me.”

The Creep blinked several times, clearly thrown, then opened his mouth again, ready to spew more shit and Polo was really getting tired of it when—wait. Wasn’t that the ranger who had been on TV only a moment ago? He beelined to Doe Eyes and slid in between him and the Creep, forcing the latter to move back with an outraged noise.

”Hi,” Doe Eyes said as the ranger wrapped his arms around him and buried his face into the crook of his neck with a frustrated growl.  ”Did you hate it that much?”

”Yes,” came the muffled reply.

Doe Eyes met Polo’s gaze with a sort of fond exasperation and said, ”Well, I guess we’ll turn in for the night,” before he got up, grabbed his Ranger’s hand, and dragged him out of the bar.

The Creep scowled after them for a moment before turning his attention to Polo and opening his mouth.

”Don’t,” Polo said with a raised brow. ”You could neither afford me nor handle me, so don’t even bother,” they warned and then turned to the next customer, smirking at the sputtering behind them. 

”Oh, for goodness sake,” Nam huffs as he walks back to their table. ”Could you not?”

”It’s a very small couch, Nam,” Phu says with a completely straight face.

”Very small,” Tian echoes, his ridiculously pretty eyes ridiculously wide.

”Really,” Nam says flatly.

”Very,” Phu deadpans.

And…yes. Okay, so, it is rather small but it could still fit two grown-ass men sitting side by side. There’s no need for Tian to be literally on Phu’s lap. 

Jaeb nudges him on the side. ”Leave them be, honey. They’re cute.”

”No, they’re not,” Nam mutters but sighs and sits down anyway. 

So. That was Tian’s boyfriend.

Lin leaned against the couch and kept a half-hearted eye on her toddler while watching Tian and…Phupha? Something like that—Tian kept calling him by his title for some reason. He was a bit stiff, clearly uncomfortable in the Sopasitsakun house, sitting on the low armchair like he was in an interview. Or on probation of sorts.

Tian was leaning on the armrest, his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. Lin couldn’t see whether or not he was doing something but she was almost 100% sure Tian was rubbing circles with his thumb on his boyfriend’s neck. It was a Tian kind of thing to do.

”Would you like some iced tea, Chief…Viriyanon?” Mom asked in that stilted voice she’d been reverting to whenever she talked to Tian or Phupha, like she wasn’t sure what to say or how to say it. 

”I—thank you, Ma’am. Only if it’s not a bother,” Phupha replied, making an aborted move to get up. To do what, Lin wasn’t sure—to help Mom?

”I’ll help you, Mom,” Tian said, pecked a kiss on the corner of Phupha’s mouth, and hurried after Mom.

Phupha glanced at Lin from the corner of his eye, then dropped his gaze into his hands again. ”Cute kid,” he said after a moment with a small, hopeful smile.

”Yeah, she is,” Lin replied. ”Doesn’t sleep much but otherwise…yeah.”

Phupha nodded and blinked a couple of times. He seemed hesitant and—shy? For some reason, Lin found that hilarious. Tian hadn’t been shy for a day in his life and to end up with someone like Phupha… She wondered which one had been the one to pursue the other and then shook her head to get rid of the thoughts. She had better things to think about than her little brother’s romantic life.

She turned to check in on Rose only to realize that instead of being where she’d been a moment ago, she’d somehow made it all the way to Phupha and was now holding her hands up in the universal toddler demand of ’up.’

”Hello,” Phupha said softly and picked Rose up, holding her secure and close, offering his other hand for her to grab. She babbled something and he nodded, looking serious and attentive, which made her giggle and babble some more. 

It was adorable.

And, admittedly, also very attractive.

A soft noise alerted her to Tian’s return and she had to bite back a grin at the starstruck, smitten look on her little brother’s face. If Tian wasn’t already head over heels in love with this Northern Forest Ranger, this would’ve probably nailed it. 

She raised a brow when Tian glanced at her and tilted her head slightly.

Tian shrugged slightly, a barely-there movement of his shoulders, and bit his lip.

She raised the other brow, too.

Tian ducked his head, then glanced at Phupha from under his lashes.

Oh, for heaven’s sake—

”Oh, my,” Mom breathed, arriving just in time to witness Rose’s delighted shriek and Phupha’s answering smile.

Lin got up from the floor and stretched her back, settling on the couch with a cup of iced tea. When Tian sat next to her, she nudged him a bit before tucking him under her arm.

When his phone rang, Phupha didn’t think about the unknown number. He barely got in a, ”Hello?”

”Sweetheart, what took you so long?” an unfamiliar woman gently scolded. ”I know you must be busy but there’s really no need to be that gruff to your own mother!”

”Uh—”

”And don’t tell me I shouldn’t have called. I haven’t heard from you in a week and yes, I know you’re an adult but I still worry. You are so far away from us!”

”I—”

”I miss you and your father misses you, not that he’d ever admit it to your face. Your sister told me to say hi when I finally get to talk to you, so, hi, I suppose. Now. What have you been up to? Do you have your school schedule memorized? Have you attended all your classes? Do you remember to eat?”

When the woman paused—most likely to draw breath—Phupha cleared his throat. ”I’m sorry, Ma’am, but I think you called the wrong number.”

There was a longer pause, then, ”My apologies. Who is this?”

”This is Chief Forest Ranger Viriyanon of the Phapirun base,” Phupha said.

”Wait—Tian’s Phupha?” the woman asked, her voice rising with incredulity.

”Um. Yes?” Phupha said, confused.

”This is Lalita, Tian’s mother,” she said. ”I meant to call him but it seems I accidentally called you.”

”Oh,” Phupha said, wondering why on earth Tian’s mother had his number.

”Well,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun said, and then her voice trailed away into an awkward silence. Phupha was fully prepared for the call to end, so he was understandably bewildered when she drew an audible breath and asked, ”How are you, Phupha?”

”I’m…fine? Thank you?”

"That's good,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun said. ”Tian has told me very little of his time with you, mostly because I think he wanted to keep you for himself. I’m afraid I’ve been a clingy mother but considering his illness, I think it’s allowed.”

”Ah. Yes,” Phupha said.

”He missed you terribly before he left, you know,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun continued. ”He thought he was hiding it but it wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

”It wasn’t?”

Mrs. Sopasitsakun huffed a laugh. ”Oh, no. He used to sit at the pool all night with a green paper kite, gazing longingly to the sky.”

”Oh,” Phupha said softly.

”Mm-hmm, yes,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun said with a smile in her voice. ”You clearly mean a lot to him.” There was an edge to her voice, not quite a warning but a sliver of something that made him honest. 

”He means a lot to me, too,” he said quietly.

”I’m glad to hear that,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun said warmly and, oh. It must’ve been a mother thing, the undercurrent in her voice. ”Have you heard from him yet?”

Phupha’s hand clenched around his phone. ”We text, mostly. The network coverage around here is spotty at best—it’s honestly a surprise you managed to call during a time and place when the call made it through.”

”Hm. Must be fate, then,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun said. In the background, someone called out to her, and her voice then muffled for a moment. ”I’m sorry, I need to go. It was good talking to you.”

”Yes, you too,” Phupha said and to his surprise realized it was true.

”Oh, and Phupha?”

”Yes?”

”If you don’t mind, I would like to continue this later,” Mrs. Sopasitsakun said, slightly hesitant. ”It would mean a great deal to me to get to know the man my son has chosen to love.”

Phupha had to swallow around his suddenly tight throat. ”I would like that too, Mrs. Sopasitsakun,” he said. ”I would like that very much.”

Tian wakes up at the sound of thunder crackling across the night sky. It’s not his first thunderstorm at Phapundao but somehow he’s still not quite used to the silence that echoes after the thunder strikes or how black the nights are without stars. Before everything changed, he barely even looked out of the window, being too busy trying to distract himself from his own life, and the best way to do that was to fill his days with crowds and loud noises and  partying, and that left little to no time to stand still and listen to the rain or look up to the sky.

He draws in a breath, holds it for a moment, and then lets it out in one long, slow blow. Sometimes he still gets caught up by how easy things like breathing or moving are, how they feel like something natural and everyday thing to do. And they are. Now. 

Next to him, Chief’s profile is barely visible in the dim light of the overcast night but Tian doesn’t need to see him to know he’s near: he can feel Chief’s body heat and hear his steady breathing; and if that’s not enough, he can always reach out and lay his hand on Chief’s chest to feel his heartbeat. (He’s done so in the past, feeling slightly silly at first until he learned how Chief had the habit of doing the same. They’re just hopeless, aren’t they?)

Another lightning lights up the sky followed by the thunder a moment later, and almost right after the thunder, a soft curtain of rain falls down, dampening the sounds and light even more. It drums gently on the roof, a pitter-patter sound that makes Tian sleepy. He’s always loved the rain—when he was a kid, he sometimes snuck out to sleep under the pavilion by the pool to pretend he was somewhere far, far away, sleeping under the stars. Mom used to scold him and fretted about him getting sick but he never did. 

Chief mutters something sleepily under his breath, then he turns, worms his way closer, and snuggles into Tian with a soft sigh which makes him smile. In the beginning, he’d been surprised by how tactile and almost clingy Chief was because he’d assumed Chief would be as assertive and commanding as he was in everything else. Turns out, Tian had assumed wrong: as soon as Chief let himself believe he was loved and in love, he turned into a cuddle monster.

Not that Tian has any complaints, no sir.

He cocks his head, closes his eyes, and listens to the rain. Seems like the thunderstorm is slowly moving along and taking the oppressive air with it, leaving behind cool, damp air and gentle rain. Tian draws the blankets more snugly over them, twines his fingers with Chief’s, and goes to sleep.

Tian is in the middle of a cleaning spree when Chief vanishes. 

Or, well. He doesn’t really vanish. He just stops answering Tian’s calls which sort of means the same, especially on his day off when he said he’d dedicate himself to anything Tian wants. And Tian wanted to clean, so.

”Where did he run off to?” Tian mutters as he descends the rickety ladder and sets down the rag. ”And just when I needed him.” He quickly checks the other rooms and frowns when the search yields no results.

Strange. Chief usually tells him if he has to leave, and besides, his gear is still in its proper place.

Strange indeed.

Slightly worried now, Tian steps out of the shade of the building. The jeep is still parked on the driveway but there’s no sign of Chief which, of course, doesn’t mean he couldn’t have walked but…without his gear? When he rounds the corner, he thinks he hears something. There’s nothing behind the Phapirun base except for the backyard and forest and—oh, right! The vegetable patch!

This is where he finds Chief, sitting on the ground, hunched over something that Tian can’t see, and talking softly. Next to him is the vegetable patch that’s light fence has a tear in it. It’s small, but still a tear a small animal would fit through easily.

”—very cute,” Chief is saying to whatever he’s holding. ”But I wish I don’t see you again. This is Tian’s vegetable patch and he’s very fond of it. And since I’m very fond of Tian, I can’t let you ruin it. So. How about you run along and I’ll fix the fence so that our vegetables stay safe, hm? If you promise to do that, I’ll bring you the leftover peels and bits later.” He leans forward and sets something on the ground, giving it a gentle push. 

Then stands up, brushes his hands on his thighs, and turns, visibly startled when he sees Tian.

”I—” he starts but falls silent as Tian marches forward, cups his cheeks, and gives him a long, deep kiss.

”What?” he asks, wide-eyed and slightly breathless when Tian comes up for air.

”Nothing,” Tian says innocently. ”Come help me with the ladder.”

(If he sways his hips a bit more when walking back to the house, well, that’s neither here nor there.)

”What is this?” Phu asked slowly as he walked in, narrowing his eyes at the spread on Nam’s table.

”Baby clothes!” Nam said cheerfully. ”I asked my Mom and aunties and Jaeb asked her parents. They all were a bit suspicious and not that into it at first because they thought we were asking for us. Which we aren’t,” he added quickly. ”These are for you!”

Phu pinched the base of his nose like he was having a headache. Probably due to the lack of sleep. Nam knew way too much of the virility of his friend, thanks to Yod’s continuous complaints when they were having drinks.

”Nam, why—” Phu started, then tilted his head like he was thinking of another way to ask whatever he was about to ask. ”Why do you have baby clothes for me?”

”Well, not you you,” Nam said. ”You and Tian.”

Phu took a slow breath. ”Why do you have baby clothes for me and Tian?” he asked in a measured tone.

”For your kid, of course,” Nam said. ”Are you being obtuse on purpose?”

Phu closed his eyes like he was begging for mercy which—no. Nam didn’t want to think about that. ”Tian and I are men. We can’t have kids,” he said slowly. 

”Not for the lack of trying, I hear,” Nam said with an exaggerated wink and then barrelled over Phu’s spluttering. ”This apparently comes as a surprise but I actually know you can’t have biological children. I’m a doctor, you see. I have a degree and all. Anyway, I also think it’s just a matter of time before Tian tells you he wants kids, and it never hurts to be prepared.”

”You—what?” Phu asked, bewildered.

”What, what? Which part of this conversation you don’t understand?”

”Um, any of it?” Phu said. ”But let’s start with what do you mean Tian wants kids?”

Nam took a step forward and pressed the back of his hand against Phu’s forehead. ”Are you okay? You’re not feverish at least, that’s good—”

”Nam!”

”Oh, for fuck’s sake, what?! What part of this conversation is news to you? I wish it’s not the fact that I’m a doctor because that would be a resounding disappointment, but I’m not sure you not realizing Tian wants you to be his baby daddy is any less disappointing.”

”What?” Phu asked again, sounding strangled.

”Sit down, you’re not making any sense,” Nam said, steering his friend to the chair and pushing him until he took a seat. It was surprisingly easy which only made him worried. ”Seriously, Phu. Are you alright? You’re freaking me out a bit here.”

”I’m freaking you out?”

Nam threw his hands up. ”Yes! You’re freaking me out, Phu. Are you really so blind you can’t see how Tian looks at you whenever you’re near a small child? He looks ready to do filthy, filthy things to you and I don’t need that knowledge in my life, thank you very much. Just—put your man out of his misery and give him babies!” He huffed a breath and frowned. ”Although you might want to start with one. I hear they can be a handful.”

Phu opened his mouth to answer, then snapped it closed, and opened it again. ”You really think so?” he said quietly. 

”Yes!” Nam said. He dragged another chair next to Phu, sat down, and leaned his elbows on his knees to peer at his friend from close up. ”You’re ridiculously in love with him. He’s ridiculously in love with you. You two are ridiculous. It’s terrible and it’s cute and I can’t stand to be close to you because you’re ridiculous. You’d be such good parents to any kid out there and I think it’s most ridiculous of all how you can’t see it.” He shook his head and added, ”Besides, everyone around here adores you two. You wouldn’t be alone in this.”

Phu frowned and looked at his hands, clenching and unclenching on his lap. ”I never thought I’d have that in my life.”

”Kids?”

Phu inclined his head. ”Or a partner. Let alone both.”

Nam clapped him on the shoulder. ”Well, you do have the latter, and sort of, by proxy, you also have kids. I don’t see why you couldn’t have it all.” He paused and added, ”If you want it all, I mean.”

Phu nodded. ”Yeah.”

”Well then, you better get to work!” Nam said brightly. ”And by that, I don’t mean trying to fuck Tian pregnant.”

”Nam!” Phu hissed, going bright red. 

It was hilarious because considering what Nam already knew about his sex life, being embarrassed about a bit of pregnancy kink shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

”Okay, so, now you just draw a paper ball from the bag!” Ayi chirped, looking at him with bright eyes and a wide grin.

Phupha had a bad feeling about this.

”Go on! Draw!” Meejoo urged, almost wiggling in her seat.

Phupha glanced at Tian who shrugged and shook his head slightly, then sighed, and dipped his hand into the bag Kalae was holding. He wiggled his fingers around a bit to make the bag bounce, picked a tightly balled piece of paper, and then held it out for Ayi.

”Let’s see, let’s see…” Ayi muttered as he smoothed the paper out. ”We have…number three! Does anyone have a three?”

The kids looked at each other and shook their heads just slightly too vigorously for Phupha’s liking.

”I have a three,” Tian said. 

”Only one? Okay! Next paper ball!”

The next one was 15. Only Tian had a 15. 

The next one after that was 52. Again, only Tian had a 52 on his card.

Phupha was starting to see a pattern…

”Bingo!” Tian called out after Phupha had picked two more paper balls. ”Yay!”

Inta clapped her hands with barely contained glee. ”You won, Mr. Seetian!”

”It seems like I did,” Tian said with a smile. ”And what did I win?”

”A date,” Ayi said smugly.

”With Chief Phupha,” Khaonueng added.

”Wait—what?” Phupha said.

”Here’s your gift card,” Kalae said, digging a slightly rumpled card from his pocket and handing it to Tian who took it with a bemused smile.

”Enjoy your date!” Ayi declared and then the kids vanished like that had been their cue to flee the scene (which, considering who they were, it probably had been).

”What just happened?” Tian asked, showing Phupha the card. It was a plain white card with a ’DATE WITH CHIEF PHUPHA’ written on a bright red crayon.

Phupha sighed and upended the contents of the bag on the table, opening the paper balls one by one. They all were numbers that only appeared on the bingo card Meejoo had handed Tian. ”I think we got played,” he huffed dryly.

”You think?” Tian said, amused. ”This was actually…kind of cute.”

”And they used this as a plot to leave early,” Phupha pointed out, leaning against a table.

Tian stepped into the vee of his thighs and wrapped his arms loosely around his neck. ”But, a date,” he said with a slight pout.

Phupha rolled his eyes and his hands moved to rest on Tian’s hips of their own volition. ”I don’t need the kids’ input to take you on a date,” he said. ”Where would you want to go?”

Tian shrugged. ”I don’t really care, as long as I’m with you. Surprise me?”

Phupha let out a hum and drew Tian closer. ”I’ll think of something,” he said in a low voice into his ear, enjoying the way it made Tian shiver slightly.

The house is dark and quiet when Phupha parks the bike next to the fence which is odd because Tian said he’d be waiting when Phupha got the overdue paperwork done and they would have a weekend just for themselves. For a moment he thinks that perhaps Tian just fell asleep but when he enters, it becomes clear that it’s something else entirely; the dinner Tian had promised to prep isn’t done while Tian is curled on the bed in a heap. The only word that comes to mind is miserable.

Phupha kicks off his shoes, sets down his bag, and lights a lantern. A small one in the corner, in case Tian is having a day when light does more harm than good. He has those, sometimes, and at first it had bewildered Phupha—how can someone so bright and full of smiles feel so much anxiety? Back then, he’d asked what he could do and Tian merely asked, ”Hold me,” in such a sad and fragile voice that Phupha wanted to wrap him in a blanket and shield him forever. He didn’t, of course, but he wrapped Tian in his arms instead and held him close. He’s pretty sure Tian expected him to leave, after, and it broke something in him to realize that’s what had most likely happened to Tian at some point.

”Are you cold?” he asks as he sits at the edge of the bed. 

Tian lets out an agreeing noise. 

”Where do you want me?” he asks next and waits patiently as Tian works out the answer.

”Here,” he finally says in a muffled voice, holding out his hand.

”Just a second,” Phupha murmurs and changes from his work clothes to pajamas, and then he slides in next to Tian. 

A split moment later, Tian turns, moves Phupha’s arms so that they’re holding him the way he wants, and tucks his face into the crook of Phupha’s neck. His body is tense and a tremor runs along his spine but it’s hard to say if it’s because Tian is cold or because of his episode. It doesn’t really matter, though, because Phupha treats them the same: he regulates his breathing and rubs his hand slowly up and down Tian’s back, relieved when some of the tension leaks away.

Some time later, Tian goes lax in his hold when he finally falls asleep, and Phupha lets out a slow, long breath. It’s been a while since the last episode and hopefully, at some point, Tian will tell him what brought this on. He’s never pried, not after the first time when he asked if there was anything he could do in their daily lives to help Tian and had received a lecture that dissolved in tears midway through. Tian had been mortified the next day but Phupha merely shrugged, kissed him, and told Tian he wasn’t going anywhere.

Tomorrow, Tian might be back to his sunny self again. Or perhaps he’ll still feel fragile and brittle and his smiles will be small and tentative. Or perhaps he’ll have a day when he’ll stare at the clouds and doesn’t speak.

Be as it may, Phupha will be next to him anyway, holding his hand if Tian wants, or sitting with his back to him, or something, somewhere else Tian needs him to be. But still there, with Tian, and not going anywhere.

The night is warm and quiet when Phupha opens his eyes. Next to him, Tian sleeps on his back, his other leg bent to the side and his head turned away from Phupha. He’s in his pajama pants only, just like Phupha, due to the uncommon heat wave plaguing the mountains. It’s been a grueling couple of weeks of sweating through the day and trying to sleep during the night when the heat lets up but the humidity doesn’t.

Feeling restless, Phupha sits up and stretches his back, hearing a satisfied pop from his spine as he bends. He smiles as his hands brush at the mosquito net, thinking back to the time when he pressed Tian against the pillar while pretending to tie the net. Tian’s eyes had been wide and his mouth slightly ajar, and Phupha had wanted to devour him there and then. 

Tian lets out a small sound, swats at something that’s bothering his dream, and sighs, a hand stretched over his head.

He’s gorgeous.

Phupha cocks his head and turns, leans his chin on his hand, and trails a finger just above Tian’s skin. He always wants to touch—so much so that it’s sometimes a problem Nam is having way too much fun with—but he tries not to, this time. Not because he doesn’t have permission (because he does and wasn’t that a fun conversation to have as soon as Tian understood why Phupha was acting strange) but because Tian has had trouble sleeping lately. Phupha would rather let him sleep.

The scar running through Tian’s chest has gotten lighter in the past years but it’s still something Tian feels self-conscious about. It took ages and a lot of persuasion for him to finally brave sleeping without a shirt; for some reason, he had this deranged idea that Phupha would feel repulsed by the scar. As if he would—could!—feel repulsed by anything about Tian. 

His resolve to not touch melts away as he gently brushes the scar, feels the smoothness of it, and how Tian’s heartbeat thrums through the gnarled path. He knows it has no feeling but the skin right next to it is sensitive, and, well. Phupha is only a man and with something like Tian spread in front of him, relaxed and safe and (mostly) comfortable, is it no wonder that his hunger to touch overrides his earlier decision to not disturb Tian’s sleep. 

Tian shivers as Phupha’s finger travels a slowly widening circle around the scar, and when he reaches a nipple, he lets out an involuntary whimper. Tian’s nipples are Phupha’s favorites—so sensitive, hardening under the lightest touch, able to bring him into a panting mess with so little stimulation. It’s happening right now, and Tian’s whole body twitches as Phupha rubs his thumb carefully over the nub. His skin raises into goosebumps at the wake of his touch, which is also Phupha’s favorite. He loves the way Tian’s body shows the way he can make it sing, and he considers finding new ways to make music a privilege.

He flattens his palm and strokes down to Tian’s stomach—another spot Tian feels insecure about, something about it being soft and not like Phupha’s, a remark so far from the truth Phupha had to retaliate with a bite. A soft, careful bite, but a bite anyway because the truth is, he doesn’t have words for how he feels about Tian’s stomach. No words, only feelings, and desire, and hunger. And now, Tian’s stomach is rippling under his palm, his body waking up before his mind to show appreciation to Phupha’s ministrations, and he adores it. It’s his favorite thing, after all.

He goes on his knees, grabs the hips just so, and presses his face on that soft skin, breathes in the smell of it, the feel of it, the all of it. He doesn’t bother to keep down a low hum of happiness because he knows it resonates into Tian and it also has an effect on him--sometimes it’s laughter, sometimes it’s a gasp or a groan, and sometimes…yes.

Tian’s cock strains his pajama pants, precome staining the fabric dark and wet. Phupha tilts his head so that he’s resting his cheek on Tian’s stomach and with his other hand, stretches the pants down so that Tian’s cock can spring free. It hits his face lightly as it does but other than closing his eyes, Phupha doesn’t move. He loves Tian’s cock just as he loves everything else about him; it’s beautiful because it’s Tian’s, it curves just right and it fits perfectly in his hand. It’s warm and silky smooth when he strokes a finger down the shaft, pausing at the base before coming back up. A drop of precome leaks down the glans, catching some of the low light that makes it shine like a pearl, and Phupha spends a good while just looking at it, absently stroking the shaft. It runs down the taught skin when a burst of precome chases it down and Phupha follows it with his fingers down to the testicles. They, too, fit perfectly in his hand and he holds them there for a moment, enjoying the warmth and roundness until Tian makes a strangled sound and gasps awake.

”Chief?” he chokes out. 

”I didn’t mean to wake you,” Phupha murmurs, still watching Tian’s cock. It twitches when his breath hits it so he does it again, this time on purpose.

”You—”

When Tian doesn’t continue, Phupha lifts his head and turns lazily to look. ”Yes?”

Tian throws an arm over his eyes and groans, this time from frustration. ”You know what,” he says petulantly.

Phupha hums. ”Maybe so. But I didn’t want to presume anything.” He’s teasing and they both know it, but it only makes it so much more appealing when Tian lifts his arm just enough to glare at him. 

”You know fully well you can just go on, you terrible man,” Tian snaps without any heat.

”Well, if you insist,” he demurs and kisses Tian’s stomach lightly before swallowing his cock down in one go. It’s hot and heavy on his tongue and he only needs to bop his head twice and press the spot right behind Tian’s testicles to make him come, trying to buck against Phupha’s hold.

He sucks gently until Tian starts to soften, then lifts his head and buries his nose into the crook of Tian’s groin, drawing in the scent of sex and sweat. It’s his favorite thing.

”Come here,” Tian says when he’s gotten his breathing under control, tapping Phupha’s back haphazardly. ”If you give me a moment—”

”No,” Phupha interrupts, turning his head to face Tian. ”I’m going to end up here again anyway.”

”Oh,” Tian says. ”It’s one of those days? Or nights, more like.”

”Yes.”

Tian stretches both his hands above his head and arches up from the bed, pushing his stomach harder against Phupha’s face before going lax like a lazy kitten, heavy-lidded eyes watching him with so much tenderness Phupha wants to hide.

”In that case…” Tian says and stretches his legs open. ”Enjoy yourself, my Chief.”

Phupha doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this, this privilege, this love, this Tian but he’s determined to make sure Tian knows just how much he appreciates it.

Appreciates him.

His favorite.