Rating:

Teen

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Bad Buddy

Relationship:

Pat/Pran

Tags:

bad buddy exchange 2023, blind dates, canon divergent, disaster dates, fake dating

Stats:

Posted on:

2023-04-24

Words:

4,394

“So,” Ink says, after Pran sends her the money for the bracelet over LINE. “Who do you like?”

Pran startles, but of course Ink would ask that. He was the one who’d asked her if she liked Pat, it’s only fair. Of course, he can’t tell her. He’s not going to reveal biggest life secret just because Ink asked him a question.

“No one,” he tells her, and thinks that’s the end of that.

Ink plays with the P charm on his bracelet. “Are you sure?” she asks with a little smile.

Panic fills Pran’s chest, but he tells himself to calm down. At least he’s good at maintaining his composure outwardly. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he says.

She’s not convinced. “Not someone we both know, that we’ve known since high school?”

Pran rolls his eyes. “You’re nosy, aren’t you?” he asks, despite his heart thumping erratically in his chest, so loud he can hear it in his ears.

But she seems to get it, or at least gives up. “Fine then, don’t tell me,” she says. “But I make a great love guru, you know.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” Pran says with a laugh. “And I don’t even know if I believe that.”

“How dare you doubt my wisdom,” Ink says, and Pran just laughs some more.

):)

When Pat says, Yes, in the dark of his room, while Pran says, No, he can feel his heart sink, lower and lower, all the way to the oceanfloor.

When Pat insists that Pran should like him, regardless of if he was Ink or not, listing only a few things Pran already likes about him and not knowing the infinite amount of the other things that Pran loves, Pran wants to disappear from existence.

When they run into Ink the next day, Pran knows he should just give up, move on with their life and let them be happy together.

Except the glimmer of hope is that yesterday, Ink said she didn’t like Pat. And maybe if Pran can hold onto that, no matter how much Pat likes her, then at least that buys him more time to get out of this hole of heartbreak quicker.

It’s Pat’s fault, anyway, for borderline flirting with him for months since they ran into each other again. Pran knows he could be the better person, but Ink’s his friend too, and she’d practically rolled her eyes when Pran asked her if she liked him yesterday, so he’s probably just doing them both a favor.

After he procures his thumb drive from Pat, he says to him, “Go away, I need to talk to Ink.”

Pat pouts. Ugh, he’s cute when he’s clingy. Pran wants to kill him. “What, you guys have secrets that I’m not allowed to know about?”

“Yes,” Pran says, before Ink can respond.

But he doesn’t even need to worry about her, as she adds, “You’re not even supposed to be on this side of campus, aren’t you? Mister Faculty of Engineering?”

“But Ink!!!!” Pat begs.

Ink crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows at him.

Pat turns. “Pran?” he says, widening his eyes pleadingly.

Pran’s pretty weak to that, but his resolve—paired with Ink’s, who’s more immune to Pat than Pran could ever hope to be—allows him to last long enough that Pat huffs, “Fine,” and storms off. Pran watches him go and feels a bit guilty.

Apparently that can be read on his face, as Ink says, “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it.” She smiles at him. “What’s up?”

Pran shifts. Now that he’s here, he’s having second thoughts. But Ink’s nice, and sensible, and held her ground against Pat. He can tell her the truth.

“You know yesterday, when we were talking,” he says.

Ink lights up, like she knows what he’s about to say. But she doesn’t press, and says, “Yeah?”

Pran fidgets again. He’s never admitted it out loud—he figured the first time would be drunk, or to Pat, or both. “When you said you thought I might like someone,” he hedges slowly. “Someone we both know. Someone we know from high school.”

He waits for Ink, but she just raises her eyebrows some more, as if asking him to continue.

Pran sighs. There’s no use in stalling; he might as well bite the bullet. “It’s true.” He looks down at his feet. “I like Pat,” he mumbles.

Ink positively squeals. Pran’s pretty sure he’s never heard her make that noise before; he’s stunned as she grabs his hands and jumps up and down. “Oh, I knew it!” she says. “This is so exciting! I always thought you two would be so cute—why do you look like that?” she asks, when Pran doesn’t jump up and down with her.

This is the harder part: explaining the feud that Pran never really understood himself. “It’s not that easy,” he says miserably. “Our parents… they hate each other. It’s why we couldn’t be friends even if we wanted to.”

Ink furrows her eyebrows in confusion. “What? But I thought you guys were friends in high school.”

Pran lifts one shoulder, then lets it drop. It’s easy for her, since she only ever saw them in classes and corridors when they sort of got along, and the times they’ve run into her on campus weren’t in the middle of an all-out brawl between their friends. “I guess for the music club,” he admits. “But that’s the reason why I left anyway. Because my parents saw me play with Pat in the band.”

“Oh.” Ink’s face is heartbroken. “I’m so sorry, Pran.” She takes one of his hands and pets it, gently. It’s not big or rough like Pat’s; he always thought that holding Pat’s hand would make him feel small and secure. But her hand is soft and comforting nonetheless. “You guys are star-crossed lovers. Like Kwan and Riam.”

Pran choked out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Except I don’t think Pat even likes me back.”

“Well, if he doesn’t, he’s missing out,” Ink declares. “And you know what? Maybe we can get you over Pat. Then you won’t even have to worry about it.”

Pran blinks. “Wait,” he says, for a moment. “‘We’?”

“Yeah,” Ink says with a grin. “I’ve got plenty of gay friends, you know.”

“Ink,” Pran says. “Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I—”

“Doesn’t mean you’re automatically a good fit for any other gay person, yeah, I know,” Ink says with a chuckle. “Believe me Pran, I know.”

She says so emphatically that it takes Pran a second to realize. And saying she didn’t like Pat with such an incredulous tone…

“Oh,” is all he can say.

“‘Oh’ is right,” Ink says, patting his hand. “But don’t you worry. I know a guy, and I think he’ll be just your type.”

):)

“You don’t want me to take a picture of you while you eat, do you?” Au asks. “The girls I go out with ask that all the time.”

Pran crinkles his nose, but not in sympathy.

He’d agreed to this blind date that Ink had suggested—with a guy in her photography club, supposedly artistic just like Pran. Pran’s not even sure if he likes artsy guys, considering how long he’s been in this… thing with Pat, who once in year seven drew a swirl of rainbows and colors, then in the middle punctuated it with a big, yellow, frowny face. When asked what it was, he’d told the art teacher with a grin that it’s the view he sees every morning when he looks out his window.

Au’s nice, he supposes. Tall. Apparently had come to this pancake shop with Ink, before. Doesn’t have problems with talking shit behind her back even though she’s the one that set them up.

“Not like there’s anything wrong with that,” Au adds, when Pran just shrugs and says nothing, just watches Au cut the pancakes. “Just, you know. Girls.”

Pran smiles at him, but can feel it not reaching his eyes. “Sure,” he says.

To be honest, Pran’s never been on a date before. The closest thing was when he was in boarding school, his roommate confessed that he liked him, then asked to copy Pran’s homework and they spent that single afternoon sitting on Pran’s bed while he did that. They hadn’t roomed the year after.

Pran takes out his phone anyway, and says, “Ink wanted me to take a picture of our food, anyway.” He snaps a photo and sends it to her.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure she gave you recommendations, huh?” says Au.

Pran nods as he checks his phone again.

Ooh you got the blueberry one! Yummy! Have fun!!

“I’ve known Ink since high school,” Pran says as he pockets his phone. “How about you? Did you meet her through the club?”

“Oh, yeah,” says Au. He takes a forkful of pancakes and starts chewing. And keeps talking. “She joined this year. I didn’t know you guys went to high school together.”

“For a bit,” Pran admits. He looks down at his own pancakes and tries to find his appetite for it. Au’s still chewing with his mouth open, and it’s not… Well. There’s only one person Pran can tolerate that habit from.

“I had to transfer out,” he says, if only to fill the noise in his ears with something else. “My parents weren’t happy with the education I was getting.”

“Oh?” Au looks interested. It’s the excuse Pran was used to telling everyone at boarding school, but no one had really asked more then. “But Ink seems smart, and she graduated from there, right?”

“Er, yeah.” Pran shifts uncomfortably. “But it’s not something I know a lot about.” Changing subjects, he decides to ask, “What things other than photography do you like?”

Au beams like he’s about to answer—but then suddenly, his phone dings.

Pran thinks it’s just a notification at first, but Au says, “Wait, hold on, I’ve been waiting for this call!” He looks excited as he brings his phone to his ear, and says, “Hello?”

Pran feels dumbfounded as Au goes, “Yeah, this is Au… hi! Yeah, no, I’m alright. I’m not busy,” he says, as he makes vague gestures at Pran that Pran has no idea what to make of. “Yeah, I’m ready for the interview, sure.” He starts chattering away as whoever’s on the other side of the line starts interrogating him, talking about his job history.

It’s only with the good manners he’s been trained into by his parents that Pran doesn’t let out the biggest sigh of his life, much less leave the restaurant right away. He blinks and doesn’t stare but is made aware very quickly that Au is very immersed in this phone interview, so much so that he’s not even leaving the table, instead talking about how he’s the treasurer of the Photography club but “basically” has the same jobs as the president, an embellishment that Pran’s sure is far from the truth. Pran heaves out a breath very, very slowly as his own phone pings with a text.

How’s the date going?

Pran has half a mind to complain to Ink about her friend, but decides to spare her for now. Instead, with Au now so entrenched in his interview that he’s gesticulating at their table, Pran takes the moment to just go through his chat notifications, bored but assured at least there won’t be a second date.

His last chat to Pat is something stupid: unlike you, i’ve had perfect attendance to all the architecture bus stop days, to which Pat had replied: 🙄 nerd. That was several days ago, though; they hadn’t really texted since the rugby game. Since Pat had said he liked Ink. Still, it’s not like Pran has anything better to do now, so he fires out a quick message: can’t believe i found someone with worse eating habits than you.

He gets a response almost immediately. who????? 😱😱🤯

Pran rolls his eyes, though that doesn’t stop a smile from creeping up his face. not telling, he replies. but they’re in the middle of a job interview right now. while with me. i’d almost prefer your company. 

i think i’d have to schedule a job interview for the next time we talk then 😜😜😂

i can’t believe i got a compliment from khun pran today 😱🫣

i said “almost” 🙄

Pran’s still smiling to himself as he clicks his phone to sleep again, under at least the guise of not replying to Pat right away.

It doesn’t matter, though, because at that moment three people enter the pancake shop—three very familiar people, one of whom, while pocketing his phone, is blinking at Pran on his date with Au.

Ink, herself, looks happy at first, before she notices the situation at Pran’s table. She makes a confused gesture to Pran, to which Pran can only gesture and shrug back. Au, oblivious, continues chatting on his phone, now going into depth on the clubs he apparently led in high school. The expression on Ink’s face starts to grow stormy, and Pran would almost feel bad about it if Au hadn’t brought it on himself.

It doesn’t help that now, especially in comparison to Au, Pat looks so good today. He’s in simple jeans and a black shirt with a button up over it, and Pran not only feels suddenly underwhelming himself, but starkly reminded what he’s missing out on. What he’s trying to make himself get over. How could he get over Pat, who looks like this, when any guy Ink sets him up with would pale in comparison? Plus, now he’s just embarrassed being caught on this disaster of a date by himself. He steels himself and swallows, not meeting anyone’s eye and picking at his pancakes.

He hears whispers from their direction—”What’s Pran doing here?” “He’s on a date.” “A date?” “With a friend I set him up with, yes.” “Why’d you set him up on a date, P’Ink?”—Pat’s little sister, and Pran feels a little less mortified about getting caught by those two, since it can’t be a date if Paa is tagging along as well.

“Don’t worry about it, but it looks like—” “What kind of friends do you have?” Pat’s laughter. “Don’t laugh! I know he isn’t great about time management, but…”

Pran expects them to leave, or at least to go to their own table and order food and let him wallow in his misery.

But instead, it’s only a few seconds before there are footsteps, and Pran thinks it might be Ink to tell Au off for being a shitty date.

So it’s to his surprise when he turns to see Pat, sliding into the chair next to him and asking, “How are things going, sweetie?”

“What are you doing?” Pran hisses.

Pat merely smiles at him, as Au frowns at him, then at Pran, then says on the phone, “Yes, I look forward to hearing from you soon,” which makes Pran equally incredulous at this point.

Still—”Pat,” he says lowly.

Pat ignores him. Or rather, he bypasses the message Pran is trying to send to him very clearly, and says, “I was just gonna get something to eat with my friend and my sister here, so I didn’t know I’d run into you! I miss you so much.” He pinches at Pran’s cheek and pokes his dimple, and Pran’s tempted to shake him off and smack him, except he wants to figure out what the hell Pat’s playing at.

Finally Au gets off the phone then, narrowing his eyes at Pat. “And who are you?”

“Oh, I’m just his boyfriend.” The way his boyfriend rolls off Pat’s tongue makes Pran shiver. “But he said he wanted to see other people, so we agreed to do that. I hope things are going well and that you don’t regret your decision at all,” he says to Pran, fluttering his eyelashes.

Pran could kiss him. He could also, still, hit him. He wants to do both, quite frankly, but that’s when Au finally spots who Pat had come in with, and says, “Oh, hi Ink!”

“Au,” Ink says. Pran can tell she’s not happy; she’s got her arms folded across her chest. While Pran would appreciate her telling her awful selection of a blind date off, he’d rather not make a scene in the middle of the restaurant.

Luckily, Paa interrupts her at that moment, and says, “Let’s go find a seat P’Ink.”

Ink huffs through her nose, but then smiles at Paa. “Good idea, Paa,” she says, and lets herself be pulled away. She glances at Pran meaningfully, which Pran tries not to noticeably react to. Meanwhile, however, Paa gestures something to Pat, and mouths something like, “Come back soon!”

Pat says, “Paa—” then seems to reconsider and shakes his head. His expression shifts rapidly as he turns back to Pran; Pran’s impressed by how easily he can act. “So, do you miss your boyfriend yet, Pran?” he asks innocently.

Pran wants to laugh, and he also wants to sink into the floor. “Yeah, sure,” he says, because he can’t believe this is his life right now. “Do you want some of my pancake?”

“Sure,” Pat says, and takes a bite. Like Pran expected, he eats loudly—and yet, Pran can only find it endearing. “Oh, that’s yummy. Can I try yours too?” he asks Au, and before Au can answer, Pat forks an already cut piece and bites it into his mouth. “Oh, that’s so good.”

Au looks between the both of them. “Pran, what’s going on?”

“It’s like he said,” Pran says, because he figures this is probably the only way out—not just because Pat’s better at time management and Pran can’t see himself with someone who has a job interview scheduled in the middle of a date. “I was trying something new.”

Au frowns. “But Ink told me you were single,” he says. “That you were trying to get over someone.”

“Yes,” Pran says loudly, before Pat can blurt out a question he’s sure is on the tip of his tongue. “My boyfriend here, Pat. But I think maybe I can work things out with him.”

“Aww, thank you honey,” Pat says. Pran can see from the corner of his eye that Paa keeps glancing desperately at Pat to come back, until Ink offers to feed her a piece of pancake, then another one. That’s interesting.

“You know how jealous I can be,” Pat says innocently, turning Pran’s attention back to him.

“But she didn’t mention anything about a boyfriend.” Au’s frown deepens. His eyes stray behind Pran’s head again, like he wants to call Ink over.

She’s probably having a moment with Paa—and while Pran will needle her later about Au, he also doesn’t want to interrupt them. Well, he also doesn’t want to make this situation more complicated than it is, especially with Pat’s arm over his shoulder, so heavy and warm that Pran is almost tempted to nuzzle into him. He could write it off as playing along.

But he doesn’t, and instead smiles at Au. “She also didn’t mention anything about a job interview.”

“Well, she didn’t know,” Au says.

Pran stands up from his seat. “Yeah, I know,” he says, grabbing his bag. “But don’t worry about it. I hope you get the job.”

He almost starts to leave by himself, before Pat rushes over to catch up to him. “Wait, babe, don’t forget about me,” Pat says. One of these pet names is going to kill him sometime soon.

Pat sidles up to Pran, and smiles at him emphatically, batting his eyelashes again. “I’m your boyfriend, remember?” he says.

Pran rolls his eyes, but when Pat grabs his hand, probably as a show for Au, he feels his cheeks heat up. “How could I forget?” Pran says, and they walk out of the pancake shop together.

The moment they’re out of sight, Pran drops Pat’s hand and turns to him.

“What are we doing?” he demands.

Pat’s typing at his phone. “Hold on,” he says, concentrating—then snickering—then rolling his eyes and pocketing his phone away. “Sorry, Paa’s mad that I ditched her because we were gonna do something else. But you were already complaining about the dude before I even saw you, so I had to rescue you.”

“I didn’t need your rescuing.”

“Didn’t you?” Pat raises his eyebrows, challengingly. And shit, it’s not like Pat’s interruption didn’t help that nightmare of a date. If he didn’t, Pran might’ve forced himself to endure a bit more of it, just to be nice. But now Au will think of him and Pat as the couple that wasted his time on the weekend, which is much better. Mostly the part about thinking he and Pat are a couple.

Pran sighs, and doesn’t meet his eyes.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Pat says dryly.

Pran ignores this. “What were you and Ink and Pa doing there anyway?” he says. Then, remembering—”You like her, too! Why are you going around and calling me your boyfriend when she can hear you?”

“She’d know it’s a joke, duh,” Pat says, which doesn’t really make sense. Sure, Pran knows Ink would know it’s a lie. But if Pat has feelings for her, why would he openly pretend to date someone else, not her?

Pran shakes his head. “I’m never going to understand you,” he says.

“And you never will,” Pat says, as his phone dings with another notification.

Pran watches, worried it might be Paa again—or worse, Ink. Even though the situation is ridiculous, and he should get over Pat, it’s getting harder and harder by the day. Maybe he’ll just ask Ink for another blind date.

But Pat just says, “Oh, my drumsticks are ready at the music shop! Wanna come with?”

Before he knows it, Pran finds himself walking into the music store with Pat again, worrying less about what would happen if someone saw them, and more about what the hell Pat’s doing. It’s normal if you like someone, you’d want to spend more time with them—which is precisely why Pran can’t seem to stay out of Pat’s orbit, especially today. But Pat likes Ink. He should be running back to her at the earliest opportunity. He should be asking her to come to the music shop with him. Not Pran.

Even more confused, Pran just watches dumbly as Pat talks to the manager to pick up his order, then tilts his mouth at Pran. They look at each other for a long moment, before Pat says, “So, do you have a boyfriend?”

The laugh comes out of Pran before he can help himself. “No, of course not,” he says. “That’s why I was on the date. And that was the story that you came up with.”

“Okay, okay.” At least Pat has the sense to look abashed. “Just figured I’d ask.”

Pran wanders to the guitars, and can feel Pat following him from behind. He’d tell him to stop, but he figures it’s probably not something you tell a guy who just pretended to be your boyfriend to rescue you from a bad date, even if it is Pat. He reaches for a guitar, the same time Pat does.

Their hands brush.

“Oh, sorry,” Pat says, quickly pulling his hand back. Pran raises his eyebrows at him, but there’s a troubled look on his face. “You can look at it if you want.”

Pran does, while Pat gets his drumsticks and pays at the cash register. Pran’s not waiting for him—after all, he can look at the guitars all he wants. Pat’s the one who can leave, since he’d only come for his drumsticks.

But there’s a strange look on his face, and he’s still with Pran.

After a moment, Pat says, “I can’t believe you had a date that horrible.”

Pran laughs. “I know. Blame Ink,” he says, searching for Pat’s reaction, but he doesn’t even blink. Or latch onto the mention of her. “She’s the one who set me up with him.”

“Yeah, she mentioned,” Pat says. “Good thing I got you out of there.”

Pran hums noncommittally under his breath. “Shouldn’t you go back to her and Paa?”

Pat shrugs. He gets closer to Pran, as if examining the guitar with him, even though he probably doesn’t know the first thing about guitars. “Well, you came out for a date, didn’t you? And I’m supposed to be your fake boyfriend.”

Pran laughs to himself, though a part of him wants to cry. Why is Pat making this so hard? Why is it that every time he thinks he can get over Pat, he gets pulled back in like a magnet, a reminder that Pat’s the sun he can’t escape, can’t get away even if he tried?

“We’re already done, Pat,” he says, and can’t tell if it comes out too harsh or soft. “You can go back to your sister and Ink. I’m sure they’re waiting for you.” And don’t you like Ink, he wants to add.

“They’re not,” Pat says confidently. “Plus, what if there are other guys in the mall who want to date my cute boyfriend?”

He’s got a point—they did just leave Au there, and it’d be weird if he saw Pran wandering around the mall by himself afterward.

“Fine,” Pran says. Then smirks in Pat’s direction. “Is this our date then?” he teases.

Pat offers his own hand like a question, and Pran can’t help himself from taking it. “Only if you want it to be,” Pat says, and later Pran texts Ink, I don’t know how, but the blind date went well, when he gets home.

):)

Millimeters away from Pat’s face, so close that he can practically taste the mint toothpaste from his mouth, with tears dotting his eyelashes, Pran whispers desperately, “But Ink—”

The sound Pat lets out is frustrated and Pran’s never wanted to taste him more. “Do you think I’d be here if I liked Ink?” Pat says, and kisses him, and the city lights beyond the rooftop fade into nothing as the universe clicks back into place.