Pat\u2019s door was locked. Pran expected as much, but it still stung.<\/p>\n
And maybe Pran was too drunk to know when to give up.<\/p>\n
\u201cPat?\u201d he said. \u201cPat, can we talk, please? Pat?\u201d He knocked again.<\/p>\n
It felt like he was knocking for hours. But probably only a couple of minutes passed by the time Pat opened the door, in his olive t-shirt and shorts, blinking sleep out of his eyes. His hair was tousled. Pran wanted to straighten it.<\/p>\n
Pat looked tired. \u201cPran, it\u2019s late,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
It was; it was nearly two am. Pran hadn\u2019t wanted to drink that much at first, and then he drank too much. He wasn\u2019t going to tell Wai anything, of course, but maybe Pran was a little overzealous in not telling Wai, or not thinking about Pat at all. Maybe he asked Wai to wingman for him, then told Wai all his taste in men sucked, and kept glancing at his phone as if Pat would text him first, even though Pran was the one who fucked up.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Pran said sadly.<\/p>\n
Pat sniffed the air. \u201cAnd you\u2019re drunk,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d Pran said again.<\/p>\n
He thought Pat might let him in, but Pat just folded his arms and watched him. He was probably still hurt; Pran didn\u2019t know Pat cared about his guitar so much. It was Pran\u2019s guitar, after all. Why should Pat care?<\/p>\n
But what came out of his mouth instead was\u2014\u201dSorry,\u201d said Pran, and he sounded so miserable he would’ve been embarrassed if he was sober. \u201cI didn\u2019t\u2014I don\u2019t know how, but I hurt you, and I know it, and I\u2019m sorry. I\u2019m just\u2014I\u2019m afraid of messing this up, and I know you\u2014I don\u2019t know how this is for you, but we\u2019re\u2014today just kinda sucked for me too, the play, but\u2014I don\u2019t want to make you think that I would just\u2014shit, this isn\u2019t making any sense, is it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He could feel his face gradually getting warmer with each word that came out; by the time he was done, he was almost regretting knocking on Pat\u2019s door in the first place. Pat\u2019s face was inscrutable, which was rare since Pran was so used to looking at his face their whole lives, he could read even the tiniest of Pat’s micro expressions. But maybe Pran was scared of what he might see. Or he was really drunk.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou aren\u2019t making any sense,\u201d Pat said, after a moment.<\/p>\n
Pran sighed. He wanted to curl up into Pat\u2019s body, like he dreamed of doing for most of his teenage years\u2014and indulged in a few times over the past couple of months\u2014but wasn\u2019t sure how appropriate that would be, now. \u201cAnd I\u2019d hoped you\u2019d sleep over,\u201d Pran admitted, tipping forward.<\/p>\n
Pat caught him on his shoulder. He didn\u2019t push Pran away, and didn\u2019t say anything when Pran let a few tears trickle out through the soft cloth of Pat\u2019s shirt.\u00a0 \u201cI\u2019ll sleep over,\u201d Pat said.<\/p>\n
\u201cI missed you.\u201d Pran was aware that he was probably whining now, but he didn\u2019t care. \u201cYour door wasn\u2019t open.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pat\u2019s laugh tinkled, warming Pran all over his body, from his fingertips to his toes. \u201cSorry about that,\u201d Pat said. \u201cI\u2019ll keep it unlocked next time.\u201d<\/p>\n
He made Pran wait in the doorway so he could get his old doll from his bed. Then Pat was holding his hand and leading Pran back to his own dorm across the hall. He helped Pran change into his pajamas, and once Pran was in bed, Pat turned off the light before crawling under the covers with him.<\/p>\n
When Pran breathed in his scent, something inside him unfurled, as it did, as he wanted to. It didn\u2019t matter how far away Pat was, or for how long, or what, even, the nature of their relationship was: Pat was always going to feel like home. \u201cI don\u2019t want to mess this up,\u201d Pran mumbled sleepily into Pat\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n
Pat\u2019s large palm stroked his back. \u201cYou\u2019re drunk, don\u2019t worry about it,\u201d Pat said.<\/p>\n
Pran could feel the vibrations from Pat\u2019s chest on his cheek when Pat spoke. It was almost enough to soothe him to sleep\u2014but not quite.<\/p>\n
\u201cCan I worry about it in the morning?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n
Pat laughed again. Just the sound made Pran feel like things were going to be okay, even if his brain, sober or not, wouldn\u2019t shut off.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure,\u201d Pat said. \u201cNow sleep, will you?\u201d<\/p>\n
Pran slept.<\/p>\n
\u2013<\/p>\n
In the morning, Pat was up already, making noise in Pran\u2019s kitchen. Pran had an apology halfway up his throat, but then Pat said, \u201cI made you breakfast if you want it.\u201d He gestured to a plate of toast on the counter.<\/p>\n
Touched, Pran said, \u201cThanks.\u201d He picked up a piece of toast and put it in his mouth, chewing slowly. He was still in his pajamas; Pat was, too.<\/p>\n
Pran swallowed his toast and said, \u201cPat, about yesterday\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
Pat shook his head. \u201cDon\u2019t worry about it,\u201d he said, before Pran could continue. \u201cI was just overreacting. Sorry for throwing a tantrum.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou weren\u2019t,\u201d insisted Pran. \u201cI was\u2014I wasn\u2019t thinking\u2014I thought I told you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYeah, I know.\u201d Pat picked up a piece of toast from the plate too. \u201cBut I wasn\u2019t thinking either.\u201d He finished eating and smiled at Pran. It didn\u2019t quite reach his eyes. \u201cI\u2019m not mad at you, you know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pran wanted to believe it. He did; Pat was taking another piece of toast, anyway.<\/p>\n
He wanted to tell Pat it didn\u2019t mean anything\u2014or, it meant more than Pat thought. He wanted to tell Pat that if he hadn\u2019t given his guitar to Wai to hold onto, he might never stop playing songs about him, writing songs about him. His love and want for Pat ached so much in his chest, in his body, and the only way he could contain himself was to keep his guitar away, with someone else. He wanted to tell Pat about the twinge of guilt he felt last night during the conversation with Wai, the words he said and Pat had heard. Even though Pran didn\u2019t know what was wrong, he still knew, in the moment, he had fucked something up, said something he didn\u2019t want Pat to hear. Made Pat feel something Pran didn’t ever want to make him feel.<\/p>\n
But he couldn\u2019t. And when he met Pat\u2019s eyes again, he saw the guilt there, too\u2014probably from making Pran cry, or maybe because Pran said he thought he\u2019d messed it all up between them. It was hard for Pran to realize how much it all mattered to Pat, how much he mattered to Pat. He\u2019d been carrying his love for Pat for so long and convinced himself that Pat would never see it; he was still learning that not only did Pat see it, but he was carrying his love for Pran as well. He didn\u2019t want to mess this up as much as Pran. They could hurt each other so well.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not mad at you, either,\u201d Pran said, and the relief that flickered across Pat\u2019s face was brief, but it was there. \u201cYou can tell me if I hurt you. I want to know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Pat smiled at him again. \u201cIt\u2019s your guitar, you can do what you want with it,\u201d he said, so lightly that Pran didn\u2019t believe him. \u201cBut I\u2019m glad you and Wai are good enough friends that you\u2019d take on the entire responsibility of leading the sound crew for him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh no,\u201d Pran groaned, slumping onto his elbows on the counter. \u201cI did agree to that. Why would you remind me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Pat took another bite of his toast. \u201cWhy would you agree to it?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cUgh.\u201d Pran grabbed the remaining pieces of toast from the plate. \u201cAnd we have an early practice today. I swear, if Chart doesn\u2019t show\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s that?\u201d Pat asked, because Pran started mumbling under his breath.<\/p>\n
Pran shoved the bread in his mouth. \u201cIt\u2019s none of your business,\u201d he said, and pretended he didn\u2019t notice Pat grin, genuinely this time, in response. \u201cSorry for\u2014last night, but you should go back home.\u201d<\/p>\n
A little too easily, Pat acquiesced. \u201cOkay,\u201d he said. \u201cGood luck during practice today.\u201d<\/p>\n
He grabbed Nong Nao from Pran\u2019s bedroom and left. Pran shut the door behind him, before starting to get dressed for the day.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Pat’s door was locked. Pran expected as much, but it still stung. <\/p>\n
And maybe Pran was too drunk to know when to give up. <\/p>\n
[The missing scene from episode 7]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[92,303],"fandom":[476],"rating":[675],"ship":[557],"relationship":[606],"minorfandomships":[],"class_list":["post-1682","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-default","tag-missing-scene","tag-prompt-gift-request","fandom-bbs","rating-teen","ship-patpran","relationship-slash"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1682","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1682"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1682\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2288,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1682\/revisions\/2288"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1682"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1682"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1682"},{"taxonomy":"fandom","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/fandom?post=1682"},{"taxonomy":"rating","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/rating?post=1682"},{"taxonomy":"ship","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/ship?post=1682"},{"taxonomy":"relationship","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/relationship?post=1682"},{"taxonomy":"minorfandomships","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/minorfandomships?post=1682"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}