{"id":1722,"date":"2025-01-08T23:59:53","date_gmt":"2025-01-09T03:59:53","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/?p=1722"},"modified":"2025-01-09T00:35:09","modified_gmt":"2025-01-09T04:35:09","slug":"how-to-be-sweet-again","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/aroceu.com\/fic\/1722\/","title":{"rendered":"how to be sweet again"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Pat didn’t want to leave until Pran had to go through security. He held Pran’s suitcase captive with both hands, gripping onto the handle. “Give me a goodbye kiss?” he asked, blinking innocently.<\/p>\n

Pran laughed and shoved his hand in Pat’s face lightly. “I’ve given you so many goodbye kisses,” he said, but leaned in to peck Pat on the mouth anyway.<\/p>\n

Pat let go of the suitcase to get both hands on Pran’s waist to drag him in for a proper kiss. “I can’t get enough,” he said, because even though Pran’s t-shirt was around his neck and Pran was in his arms, Pat wanted to soak up every second, every molecule of Pran’s still next to him. “I’m going to miss you so much.”<\/p>\n

Even though they were in the middle of the airport\u2014and even though they were, for all intents and purposes, publicly broken up\u2014Pran kissed him back anyway, like it was their first time, like they had all the time in the world and Pran didn’t have a flight to catch in an hour. His lips were soft and Pat memorized the heat of his tongue, which he’d felt so many places before on so many other parts of his body, and Pran’s arms wrapped around Pat like he was memorizing his shape too. Pat took in Pran’s scent and felt Pran’s nose inhale beside his, too. Pat wanted to take him right then and there.<\/p>\n

Pran broke away and smiled. “I’ll miss you too,” he said. “But it won’t be too long, right? We’ve been apart for longer.”<\/p>\n

“Not on purpose.” As Pran readjusted himself, Pat clung to one of his hands so Pran had to rearrange his hair with one hand. “Not to another country.”<\/p>\n

Pran smiled at him and cupped Pat’s face, palm on his cheek. “We’ll be fine, Pat,” he said. “Before you know it, two years will be over.”<\/p>\n

They were reaching the end of the line before security. Pran had his bags to scan, and then he’d have to find his gate, and then he was going to be on another piece of land, away from Pat, for at least seven hundred days. He didn’t know how he did it the first time.<\/p>\n

“I love you,” he said, as Pran took his suitcase from him and started walking toward the scanner.<\/p>\n

Pran beamed at him, dimples lighting up his cheeks. “I love you too,” he said.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Pat watched Pran go through security until he couldn’t see him anymore, after Pran left for his gate. Pat sighed and headed back down to his car, Pran’s t-shirt still wrapped around his shoulders. The empty ache inside of him was starting already\u2014like his heart was being torn out of his body and getting shipped 2000 kilometers away\u2014but he tried to ignore it as he got back into his car alone.<\/p>\n

Today had been marked on his phone calendar as “Pran flies out to Singapore,” and nothing else, so he returned to his apartment with a loss at what to do. His days were swamped with work, usually, but he had to see Pran off today and they\u2019d spent all night making love so he’d taken the day off just for him. Now that he was home alone, though, he stared around at his empty apartment and wondered if he should’ve made more plans for today.<\/p>\n

The apartment was his, technically, while Pran was supposedly staying with a friend until he found a place of his own. At least, that’s what he’d told his parents. Pat bet that they were elated when they heard about Pran’s internship in Singapore, so they wouldn\u2019t have to think about Pat, could pretend that Pat didn’t wake up every morning to Pran humming in his ear and falling asleep to Pran gasping around him every night. They probably thought that Pran would get over him. Forget about him.<\/p>\n

Well, they were wrong! Pran had been in love with him before Pat himself even knew, back before Pran was even transferred, so there was nothing that could test the strength of their relationship now. Especially when Pat got a text from Pran that said, Boarding<\/em>, then Taking off now, love you.<\/em> Pat sent, Love you too! Safe flight!<\/em> and then checked his work email, and told himself he was putting Pran’s absence out of his mind.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Two hours later, Pran texted him, Landed ):)<\/em> and Pat sent back, ):)<\/em> less than a minute later. He watched as Pran read the text but didn’t reply, and sighed. It was fine. Pran was probably tired from the flight anyway.<\/p>\n

He was advancing his career, and Pat couldn’t fault him for that. At least one<\/em> of them needed to do something ambitious. When Pat was young he thought that he might do something like Pran, something innovative and exciting, in another country with lots of traveling. But of course he had to inherit his father’s shop; even after their blowout a couple of years ago Pat wasn’t going to forget his filial duty. He was glad he didn’t have to work with his father directly, at least. They’d tried that in the first week after Pat had come back from his graduation trip, and it’d been such a disaster that his dad had him managing store trades instead immediately.<\/p>\n

Pat liked it, at least for what it was. He’d only traveled around Thailand, but with Pran in his last year of uni at the time, he managed to make plenty of time to do the traveling portion with Pat, even though Pat had warned him it would be utterly dull. It was\u2014the work part, at least. But still Pran managed to do his coursework and inquired at the cities they visited about the architectural and interior design opportunities in the area. Plus, they found new places and ways to make love along the way.<\/p>\n

It was part of growing up, and more recently it was what Pat envisioned, and wanted with even more of a passion now, growing up with Pran. Seeing him stress about his thesis until Pat screwed the stress out of him; looking around for good post-grad internships until a prestigious one fell into his lap; graduating in his black and red gown that he and Pat fooled around in later, and then brought with them when they visited the eco village weeks before Pran’s flight. With those three years apart because of the transfer, Pat was sure that in some alternate universe, he and Pran weren’t together and Pran was doing all these things, experiencing them alone. Without Pat. So Pat woke up the next morning to an empty bed and told himself that this was part of growing up, too.<\/p>\n

Ink and Paa visited later, though with Pran having the spare key, they had to knock for Pat to open up the door for them. “How are you doing?” greeted Ink, as Paa pushed her way in.<\/p>\n

Paa rolled her eyes at her girlfriend. “Don’t ask that if you don’t want to hear Pat talk about Pran nonstop,” she said.<\/p>\n

Pat ignored her. “I’m so bored, Ink,” he said. “And lonely. It’s a good thing you guys came around.”<\/p>\n

“Have you talked to Pran since he left?” Ink asked.<\/p>\n

Pat nodded. “It’s just different when he’s not here.”<\/p>\n

“We know,” said Paa. She opened up Pat’s fridge and squinted. “It’s only been a day. Why do you have all of this?”<\/p>\n

“Oh, Pran made me a bunch of food before he left.”<\/p>\n

Paa closed the refrigerator door. “You guys are disgusting,” she said, though she was smiling. “Are we eating Pran’s food for lunch or going out?”<\/p>\n

“Let’s go out,” said Pat. He kind of wanted to keep Pran’s cooking just for himself.<\/p>\n

They went out to a nearby dim sum restaurant for lunch, and Ink kept ordering shrimp dishes from every cart that passed by to feed them to Paa. Paa laughed and said, “Ink, I can feed myself,” but let Ink place a dumpling in her mouth before sipping her congee.<\/p>\n

Pat unfolded his zongzi and snapped a photo, sending it to Pran. Ink turned to him and asked, “Do you want some shrimp dumplings too?”<\/p>\n

“Hey!” said Paa indignantly, while Pat smiled and said, “Yes please.”<\/p>\n

Ink laughed, then glanced at her girlfriend. “Better get it yourself, then,” she said, and Paa preened in smugness.<\/p>\n

Whatever. Even though Pat didn’t have his boyfriend here to feed him\u2014or rather, to feed\u2014he still had Pran replying to the photo with a heart reaction, and then, Jealous!!<\/em> right afterward. Pat reacted to his message with a crying with laughter emoji, then nabbed the rest of Paa’s shrimp dumplings and shoved them into his mouth.<\/p>\n

“Hia,” Paa complained, but Pat stuck his tongue out at her, mouth still full, and Ink laughed as Paa made a face of disgust.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

“What’re you wearing?” Pat grinned as he made his way around the kitchen, unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher.<\/p>\n

He could practically hear Pran’s eye roll on the other side. “What, right now, you pervert?”<\/p>\n

“What’s so perverted about wanting to know what you’re wearing? I’m just asking a question.”<\/p>\n

Pat heard Pran sigh in fondness. Even though he didn’t know the exact position Pran was in, what he was doing, what he was thinking about, he knew the expression well\u2014Pran with his arms folded, smiling in exasperation at Pat. He knew what Pran’s apartment looked like, too, because Pran had sent him photos. It was small, big enough for only one person. Good. Pat didn’t want it to be any bigger than that.<\/p>\n

Pran said, “I’m wearing a blue and white striped shirt. And, uh, jeans.”<\/p>\n

“Oh, the one with the wide collar? Which jeans?”<\/p>\n

“Dark blue baggy ones,” said Pran, and Pat knew exactly which pair he was talking about. Pran had a few pairs of jeans; the ones he was wearing were extra soft, and Pat liked burying his face in them, in Pran’s lap at the end of the day.<\/p>\n

Pran asked, “What about you?”<\/p>\n

“Didn’t I send you a picture earlier?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, but I sent you<\/em> a picture earlier and you still made me describe myself.” Pat could hear the smile in his voice.<\/p>\n

As he warmed up his dinner\u2014a boxed meal that Pran had cooked him before he left\u2014he described his outfit to Pran, with maybe a few flourishes here and there. “And super tight jeans,” he said, as the microwave beeped. “Mega tight. And black. They make my butt look good.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah?” said Pran. “Your butt doesn’t look good all the time?”<\/p>\n

“Are you saying it does?”<\/p>\n

Pran laughed. “Why don’t you send me a picture and let me see?”<\/p>\n

Pat did, in the full length mirror in his bedroom, before going back out to the kitchen. As he stirred his rice, Pran said, “It looks okay,” and Pat giggled.<\/p>\n

“Are you jerking off now?” he asked, taking a bite of his food.<\/p>\n

Pran was silent for a moment. “No,” he said, in a way that Pat didn’t entirely believe him. “Are you?”<\/p>\n

Pat chewed obnoxiously into his phone’s microphone. “Yup, I’m definitely jerking off right now,” he said through a mouthful of food. “Doesn’t it sound like it?”<\/p>\n

Pran laughed hard on the other end, so much that Pat wanted to see him, feel his dimple under his thumbs. “Liar,” he said affectionately. “You’re so eating. What are you eating?”<\/p>\n

“Your cooking, duh,” said Pat. “What? Going to jerk off to the thought of me eating your food?”<\/p>\n

“No,” Pran said, but Pat could hear a rustle on the other end.<\/p>\n

He grinned and took another bite of his food. “And you call me the horny one.”<\/p>\n

“Shut up,” said Pran, then, “How was your day?”<\/p>\n

“I thought you were telling me to shut up,” said Pat, and then quickly abandoned his food for his bedroom when Pran sent him a photo of his own.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Life wasn’t that much different with Pran in a different country. Sure, Pat didn’t have a boyfriend to ask him whenever he needed to be picked up from university or work, and his bed was always cold in the mornings, and he only used the one chair at his kitchen counter, even though he didn’t have the heart to put the unused ones away. Pran was coming back, and other people visited him, of course. It wasn’t like Pat was alone<\/em>.<\/p>\n

Plus, he’d lived without Pran before as well. It might’ve been depressingly lonely, but it had been doable\u2014and Pran wasn’t even fully out of his life this time, because they were dating. They were boyfriends, and Pran sent him pictures of the Marina Bay Sands and hawker stalls and the lifeless business street. Pat told Pran that the sky trees weren’t as good looking as his boyfriend and the hawker food couldn’t be as good as his boyfriend’s cooking and that all the businesspeople in Singapore weren’t going to make as much money as his boyfriend would one day. Pran hadn’t gone anywhere. Just… to another country.<\/p>\n

But it was alright because Pat was busy too, and felt it more than ever now that Pran was away for work. He had the materials trades to manage, and other businesses to talk to, and conversed every so often about construction work. Though he wasn’t really putting his engineering degree to much use, it still made it easier doing business for his father’s company, in having things to talk about, people to talk to. Even though all their employees knew they couldn’t work together, Pat knew they knew what a valuable asset he was, not just as his father’s son. “You’d make a top tier businessman,” said a client, and Pat smiled at them in thanks.<\/p>\n

This was part of growing up, too. Pat wondered idly what Pran was like in his architecture firm, at work, if maybe he’d be a bit nervous at first before showing off what he was capable of with confidence. It was a shame that they had majored in different departments; Pat wondered if he should have maybe studied architecture too, just so he could get this internship too, work alongside Pran. Compete against him in the workforce as well, just so he could see how Pran was at every step of the way, so he didn’t feel like he was missing out.<\/p>\n

They hadn’t seen each other for a couple of weeks now, but Pat knew he was thinking about him every day. Luckily, they called every day, too.<\/p>\n

“It’s not that much different here, in terms of weather,” Pran was saying one evening. Pat had already eaten dinner and was lounging on his rooftop balcony; he still needed to get lights set up outside, but he’d been lazy. He’d only lived here for a few months, after all. “But it’s definitely more humid.”<\/p>\n

“And that’s a bad thing?”<\/p>\n

“No, it’s good for my skin.”<\/p>\n

Pat wanted to touch Pran’s skin so badly. “You’re not going to move there for your skin, are you?”<\/p>\n

Pran laughed. “No, but I’ll move here to get away from you.”<\/p>\n

He was just joking, Pat knew, but it stung anyway. He almost wanted to say something, but it might ruin the mood. And he knew<\/em> Pran was just joking. So it didn’t matter.<\/p>\n

“You say that, but I’ll come find you,” he said with a low growl into the phone.<\/p>\n

“Oh?” said Pran. “You’ll find me? Then what?”<\/p>\n

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”<\/p>\n

“I would.”<\/p>\n

“Well,” said Pat. “I’d take off all your clothes…”<\/p>\n

“Are we doing this again<\/em>?”<\/p>\n

“And then dump you into that hotel’s big pool!” Pat finished. “So your skin can be all humid and everything everywhere. Just how you want.”<\/p>\n

Pran was laughing on the other end. “Yeah, thanks,” he said. “That’s exactly how I want to be humid, thanks Pat.”<\/p>\n

“You’re welcome,” Pat said cheekily, and let the music of Pran’s laughter embroider another layer over his heart, once again.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Pran’s internship had started right away, and was in full force a month later, with Pran as one of the assistant project managers in redecorating the interior of the entire Marina Bay Sands hotel. Pran sent him photos of some diagrams Pat could barely make out, like they’d been taken discreetly, then added, Don’t show anyone, it’s a secret!<\/em> Even though Pat didn’t even know who he would show to blow the secret, his heart did a flip anyway at Pran being too excited to not send him illicit photos.<\/p>\n

Pat had work nearly every day too, but didn’t realize how strenuous their schedules were until Pran asked one day, during one of their nightly calls, “Can we switch our phone call routine to every other night?”<\/p>\n

Pat had been flipping through dramas, entertaining the idea of both of them watching something at the same time and staying on the phone together as it played. “Oh,” he said, as his brain caught up with Pran’s words.<\/p>\n

“Just because I’m tired all the time,” Pran said. “And I have to wake up early.” That was true; he’d fallen asleep a few times in their past several calls, and Pat had spent hours listening to his light snoring. He sounded exhausted even now.<\/p>\n

Pat’s heart panged, but he wanted Pran to do well, too. “Yeah, of course,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as affected as he was. “I know my boyfriend needs his beauty sleep.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah? You sleep so much more than me.”<\/p>\n

Pat hadn’t been sleeping much recently, but he wasn’t going to tell Pran that. “We’re both hot,” he said instead. “We both need our beauty sleep.”<\/p>\n

“Right, right,” Pran said, giggling on the other end.<\/p>\n

They decided to make a date out of watching a drama together the night after the next, though, and Pran said, “I love you,” by way of goodbye. He didn’t say I miss you<\/em>, and Pat almost wanted to say it. But he wanted to hear Pran say it first, so he didn’t.<\/p>\n

“I love you too,” Pat replied, and hung up before the words could slip out of his mouth.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

When Pat had realized he was in love with Pran, it had felt both like being struck by lightning and waking up to the sunrise at the same time. Electrifying and world shaking, and yet so easy, so natural, all at once. Pat hadn’t realized what it felt like to want until he wanted Pran, what it meant to love and be alive until Pran colored his life again. He hadn’t even realized all the color had gone out, not until it kicked him in the chest with a size ten shoe.<\/p>\n

He’d gone from falling for Pran to being right there with him at the bottom of the world fast, for the both of them to climb up hand in hand, despite what their faculties and friends and families thought. He felt lucky because it was like Pran had been made for him all along, that he could want Pran and Pran could want him back in equal measure, that they wanted to be together more than anything else. Pran often asked Pat if he thought they were unlucky for their families’ situation, but Pat had always told him that there weren’t a lot of people who had a soulmate made for them right next door since birth.<\/p>\n

Pran had asked, You think I’m your soulmate?<\/em> and Pat asked, Who else would it be?<\/em> and Pran made love to him on their living room floor.<\/p>\n

Pran was in another country now, and if Pat thought about it too long it did feel like a part of his soul was gone. Somewhere else, in a place he couldn’t be, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He ached and wanted again, and he knew he had what he wanted, in the photos Pran sent him, in the every other day phone calls with Pran’s tired but happy voice on the other end. But it wasn’t the same, because he wasn’t here, and Pat felt too big and small in his apartment by himself, sometimes. He cleaned and redecorated; then he cleaned again. He ate two of Pran’s home cooked meals and stopped himself from eating a third. He looked around and all he could see was himself in his apartment, and not Pran.<\/p>\n

His heart felt too big for his body, his bones, his skin. He pulled out some boxes from under his bed and started rifling through them. They were old photos he’d brought from home, along with some from Ink and high school as well. Pran looked so young in these photos, but he was still Pran\u2014dark-skinned, dimpled, and cute as all hell. Pat’s heart pulled as he smiled at the photos, running a thumb over Pran’s cheek in the photographs. Pran was playing guitar in one; scowling at Pat over the football field in another; and singing at their Christmas concert in several, because Ink had apparently taken a lot of photos that day. He’d never been more grateful for it than now, wishing Pran had maybe brought his guitar to Singapore so he could do the thing he loved the most even there. But Pran had always said that he played better when Pat was around.<\/p>\n

Pat brought all the photos out to his living room. The next day, he bought a bulletin board and an assortment of push pins, thinking about how he wanted to organize the memory board. He would put it behind his desk, of course, and there were far too many photos that he would probably have to stick a bunch around his computer. It helped, a little, being able to see Pran’s face from all the different stages in their lives, hanging in a spot that Pat knew he would glance at every day. But it still wasn’t the same thing.<\/p>\n

He wished, sometimes, that Pran was more vocal, sentimental. Not wholly, of course, because Pran’s closed off walls that Pat had to dig under, burrow and break down until he got to Pran’s heart, were one of the things he loved most about Pran. The thrill, the challenge, of pushing Pran and getting pushed back. But Pran hadn’t said that he missed him yet, and even though Pat knew he’d been the same, he couldn’t help but wonder if Pran didn’t feel that way at all. If he was having such a good time in Singapore that he didn’t need Pat\u2014but of course Pat was being in his head about it again. It was just the distance thing, he told himself, and the time. He and Pran were speaking less in general because of it all, and so he didn’t have Pran complaining or giggling or moaning all the time, so it was easy to wonder what Pran was doing, thinking when Pat didn’t know.<\/p>\n

Pat wanted to know, but it couldn’t be that simple. Maybe it would be as easy as just asking to FaceTime, he wondered one day, but they hadn’t really discussed it in the first place. He could just ask, he knew, but. But Pran might call him clingy and annoying. And accuse Pat of missing him. And Pat did.<\/p>\n

But he was still Pat. And his boyfriend was still Pran. And even if Pran knew it or not, it was still a competition, and Pat wasn’t going to be the one to break first. So he didn’t.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

It was Thursday. He and Pran usually called on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays if they were both feeling like it, which they often were. Pran had more time on Sundays, though more than once he’d been invited to work functions and Pat had urged him to go, earning himself photos of gorgeous gardens and a wobbly selfie from the top of a rooftop bar, clearly taken drunk. Pat wished he could be there for all of those moments. But at least he was getting the next best thing.<\/p>\n

Thursdays were their normal days, though, so Pat sent to Pran, I’m good whenever you are<\/em> and waited. He flicked through a streaming service and found a TV show that he thought he and Pran might enjoy. When Pran didn’t answer his texts for a bit, he started the first episode, ready to tease Pran that he’d started without him once Pran was online.<\/p>\n

By the time Pat was on the fourth episode, he’d already sent Pran two follow up texts: Hey, did you forget?<\/em> and I’ll be up late if you want!<\/em> He finished the sixth episode and sighed. Singapore was an hour ahead, anyway. And Pat wasn’t much of a worrier because he trusted Pran\u2014no news was good news, even if that no news meant no phone call tonight.<\/p>\n

He kept his phone awake through the night, but didn’t get a text.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Not until the morning, anyway, when he woke up to three quick text notifications on his phone, and then he was getting a phone call. He answered on the third ring.<\/p>\n

“Hello?” he said groggily, and looked at the time. It was seven fifty five, five minutes before Pat’s alarm would’ve gone off.<\/p>\n

“Hey! Shit Pat, sorry,” came Pran’s voice. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to forget about our phone call yesterday\u2014I’ve just been so busy and my parents keep calling so I had my phone on silent\u2014”<\/p>\n

“It’s okay,” Pat said, because it was. It was bound to happen, anyway. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal.”<\/p>\n

“But.” He could hear Pran’s frown on the other end. “I forgot.”<\/p>\n

“You’re always forgetting important stuff,” Pat chided him, fondly. “Remember? Do you know where your headphones are right now, huh?”<\/p>\n

“I\u2014” There was some rustling on the other end. “They’re at my desk? I think?”<\/p>\n

Pat laughed. “It’s okay, I know you,” he said. “I’m just glad you’re calling now.”<\/p>\n

“Are you sure?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah,” Pat said immediately into the phone, though whether because that was true or because he was trying to convince himself it was, he wasn’t sure.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

“Don’t be mean,” Korn said, as he parked.<\/p>\n

“Me? You<\/em> better not be mean,” Wai fired back.<\/p>\n

Pat laughed at the both of them. “Why would either of you be mean? If anything, you should worry about me being mean.”<\/p>\n

Both Korn and Wai turned to him. “You don’t be mean either,” they said, and Pat laughed again.<\/p>\n

“She’s just getting off work,” said Korn. They were making their way out of the car to the bar, Pat pretending he didn’t feel depressingly single as he followed them in. “So she might be a little tired, and cranky\u2014”<\/p>\n

“Who’s cranky?”<\/p>\n

A pretty girl with fair skin and long hair came up to them, plopping her elbow on Korn’s shoulder. Korn blushed, to Pat’s amusement, as she kissed him on the cheek.<\/p>\n

“Hi baby,” Korn said, and she kissed him on the lips too.<\/p>\n

“Hi baby,” she said back, before turning to Wai and Pat. “So these are the famous friends I’ve heard so much about?”<\/p>\n

“You called us friends?” said Wai.<\/p>\n

Korn frowned at him. “Well what would you call us?”<\/p>\n

“Business partners?”<\/p>\n

“It’s alright,” said Korn’s girlfriend. “I don’t think we’re friends either.” She grinned at Korn. “Just lovers in the night.”<\/p>\n

“May,” Korn whined, but he blushed and she kissed him again.<\/p>\n

They introduced each other and made lively conversation. May could drink as much as Korn, so she drank Wai under the table and almost Pat as well. Wai’s girlfriend met up with them later, because she was in med school still and got let out late, and eyed Wai’s beer enviously as she sat down in nearly his lap.<\/p>\n

“Just a sip,” she begged.<\/p>\n

Wai looked at her with amusement. “No.”<\/p>\n

“Please?”<\/p>\n

“No, sweetie, you have to wake up early,” said Wai, and kissed her on the nose. She scrunched her nose, and he kissed her again.<\/p>\n

Pat looked at the two couples with amusement. He’d taken a picture of a round of their drinks earlier and sent it to Pran, though he hadn’t heard anything back yet. His hand itched to hold another, but he tried to shake the feeling off. He took a potato wedge from the basket in the middle of the table.<\/p>\n

May asked Wai and his girlfriend, “So how did you two meet?” Korn was busy at the bar, so she had taken up his entire side of the table and claimed it as her own.<\/p>\n

Even though Wai exchanged a look with his girlfriend, he also did with Pat. “We were introduced by a friend of a friend,” he said, because it was true. “Who’s also friends with Pat,” because it was Ink’s friend’s friend who had been eyeballing an Architecture boy from the rugby team.<\/p>\n

“I know a lot of people,” Pat boasted, which made Wai snort.<\/p>\n

“You mean Ink knows a lot of people.”<\/p>\n

“Oh, so you’re the matchmaker?” May asked him with amusement.<\/p>\n

“Hardly,” said Wai.<\/p>\n

“Definitely,” said Pat.<\/p>\n

“And what about your sweetheart, huh?” asked Wai’s girlfriend, Achara. “Matchmaker but no match for yourself, Pat?”<\/p>\n

Pat hesitated. He knew Wai was watching him. Neither Korn nor Wai had told their girlfriends about him and Pran dating, because there was no reason to. They’d both been dating their girlfriends for roughly over a year now, but they knew that Pat and Pran’s relationship was different. They were the only ones who knew for a reason.<\/p>\n

May said, “Yeah, a good-looking man like yourself? I’m surprised you’re still on the market.”<\/p>\n

“Who’s good-looking?” Korn demanded, coming back over to their table.<\/p>\n

May kissed her boyfriend’s hand. “You, of course.”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, Pat,” Achara chimed in. “I have some single friends if you’re looking to date.”<\/p>\n

Pat forced out a laugh. “No, it’s fine,” he said, and pretended Korn and Wai weren’t eyeing him carefully. “I’m not really interested right now, I guess.”<\/p>\n

“Let us know if you are,” said May, and Achara winked.<\/p>\n

Further into the night the girls started exchanging skincare tips and talking about going to beauty stores together, which Korn dismissed as girl talk before Wai said, “Achara loves it when my skin is soft,” and Korn immediately switched tack. Pat wished Pran was here because he would love this conversation; Pat remembered what he’d said about the humidity in Singapore earlier. Pran could talk about going to beauty stores with Wai and Korn’s girlfriends. Pat would tag along, of course, since he knew Pran liked it when his skin was soft, too. He liked it when Pat had some stubble as well, though hadn’t said so in as many words; Pat had just gathered that from the number of times Pran had been distracted by him in the mornings. He hadn’t been shaving as regularly now, either, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t have a boyfriend nagging him about it.<\/p>\n

He decided to do so the next morning, nearly nicking himself when he got a notification on his phone. When he was done, he checked it\u2014Pran had finally responded: Looks good! Wish I could be there with you guys :(<\/em><\/p>\n

Me too<\/em>, Pat replied, and pretended his response wasn’t coming from the deep space between his rib cages.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Pat knew that though he wasn’t eating out every day, he still was when he was with Ink, or Paa, or Korn, or Wai. It was easier when he could be seen with them<\/em> in public. Not to mention Mo or Chang when they were around, or for business meetings, or if Pat had to travel for work again and hadn’t thought much about meal planning until he was hungry and all he had was his wallet.<\/p>\n

He knew the prepped food wasn’t going to last forever, but it was another thing to come home one evening, looking forward to eating Pran’s curry rice, and opening the food storage to see it had spoiled. There was mold growing on the rice and chicken, and when Pat opened all the other containers, they had spoiled too.<\/p>\n

It had been over a month. It made sense. Pran had made too much that he had stuffed the refrigerator to the brim with it all while Pat had made fun of him. Now Pat stared at the boxes of spoiled food\u2014all of it, not a single one was salvageable\u2014and suddenly found he didn’t have the heart to throw it all away.<\/p>\n

He did. He had to, because it was gross and bad and Pran would be mad if Pat put his health in jeopardy just to eat some food he made several weeks ago. But as Pat scraped the rice out of the plastic, he felt like he was losing more, what was left of Pran in his apartment, the only thing that Pran had really made on his own. The photos were only just photos, and Nong Nao in Pat’s bed couldn’t replace all of Pran’s 183 centimeters of warmth. And now Pat had to throw all of Pran’s cooking away. Pran’s amazing cooking turned shitty, because Pat hadn’t eaten it fast enough.<\/p>\n

By the time he cleaned out the last container, his face was wet and his nose felt snotty, and Pat kind of wanted to crumple in the middle of the kitchen and cry some more. But the dishes were still dirty, so he loaded them up. Afterward, he went to the photo board to find the picture of Pran from when he was younger. Pat liked looking at it; it was a reminder that he knew Pran even then, that they’d known each other their whole lives, that the Pran he was in love with was the same boy as the one in the photo. He wanted to see it again, but once he got to the board he couldn’t find it anywhere.<\/p>\n

It was here\u2014it was always<\/em> here. Pat had looked at it countless times in the past few weeks. But now it wasn’t, because there were so many damn photos and Pat was always moving them around and maybe he accidentally threw it out or vacuumed it up or something but it wasn’t here anymore. Pat looked up and down his desk and in the small waste bin, wondering with dread if he’d tossed it into his kitchen trash one day without noticing and now it was gone forever. His heart seized in every direction and he couldn’t breathe, suddenly, trying to find the oxygen in his lungs. He couldn’t\u2014but he could, he just hurt and hurt and hurt<\/em>, because a part of him was missing, he missed so bad, because he wanted and needed and couldn’t, because Pran was so far away\u2014<\/p>\n

Pat didn’t know how long he sobbed at his desk, heaving deep breaths as he cried ugly tears. It was worse than when Paa had nearly drowned, because Pran had saved both of them then. Now, Pat felt like he was drowning alone.<\/p>\n

By the time he got back up and lugged himself into the bathroom, an idea had crawled back up into his mind. One he had been thinking about dozens of times for weeks, but it felt like the only thing he could do now. He would make a final decision in the morning, he decided, and took a sleep aid to make himself fall asleep.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

His first thought when he woke the next morning was, I still want to go to Singapore<\/em>.<\/p>\n

So, his mind hadn’t changed. He booked a ticket and drove to the airport.<\/p>\n

Last minute plane tickets were certainly expensive, but he and Pran had a joint bank account and didn’t care too much about their money distribution. As Pat pulled up to security, he realized he hadn’t even bothered packing\u2014just bought the ticket and left, as if Pran was just a city over instead of a country. Still, it didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to see Pran again. The logistics could wait.<\/p>\n

His chin felt rough under his N95 mask. He was going to look like such a mess. He felt<\/em> like a mess. He had work today and hadn’t even told anyone he was going to Singapore. Before the plane took off, he sent a quick text to his dad before putting his phone into airplane mode.<\/p>\n

The flight felt too long, but suddenly Pat was disembarking and the flight attendant was saying in English over the speakers, “Welcome to Singapore.” In a daze with nothing but the clothes on his back, Pat made his way out, stepping onto Singaporean soil for the first time.<\/p>\n

As he walked through the airport, he realized he didn’t have a plan. He had to call Pran, though he wasn’t sure if his phone would work; Pran had bought a Singaporean SIM card before he’d even left, and Pat had both of his numbers in his phone. He could book a hotel because he had his wallet and his English and Mandarin were okay, but he wasn’t sure if that was enough. And he would have to exchange his money. He wished he was more like Pran, who wouldn’t do things without a full itinerary.<\/p>\n

Then, like it was fate, Pat spotted him\u2014right as he was exiting the terminal to ground transportation, he saw Pran walking in with a backpack, and it couldn’t be anyone else other than his boyfriend. “Pran?” Pat said loudly, and Pran turned to him.<\/p>\n

Pran stopped\u2014and then he was running right at Pat, into his arms, across the short distance of the airport. “Pat?” Pran said, looking at him through his own mask as they clung to each other. “What are you doing here?”<\/p>\n

“I could say the same to you.” Pat touched Pran’s backpack pointedly. “Going somewhere?”<\/p>\n

“Yeah, I\u2014” Pran’s eyes darted around. “I was going to visit you,” he said. “It was going to be a surprise.”<\/p>\n

“Oh,” said Pat, and felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest. Out of his throat, and into Pran’s. “You missed me that much?”<\/p>\n

“I could say the same to you,” said Pran, but wrangled Pat into a hug again. “What are you doing here?” he asked in Pat’s ear, rocking him back and forth. Pat didn’t want to let go either, stroking down Pran’s spine, feeling his waist, slipping his palms under Pran’s sweater to feel the warmth of his stomach. “You missed me too, huh?”<\/p>\n

“Maybe,” said Pat, because he still wanted Pran to say it first. “Are you still flying out?”<\/p>\n

Pran snorted. “Not anymore,” he said, and let Pat go but tangled their fingers together. He smiled at Pat through his mask; Pat reached up to touch where he knew Pran’s dimple would be. “Let’s go, I want to show you my place.”<\/p>\n

“Okay,” Pat said eagerly, and followed him out.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Pran had gotten a rideshare to the airport so he called one back to his apartment, and they didn’t let go of each other’s hands the whole ride back. As soon as they were in Pran’s apartment, which looked exactly how it did in the photos, Pat took off both of their masks and kissed Pran on the mouth, again and again until Pran was laughing.<\/p>\n

“Wanted this so much,” Pat mumbled against his lips. “I beat you, you know? So it’s my reward.”<\/p>\n

“Beat me at what?” Pran asked with amusement, though he wasn’t pulling away.<\/p>\n

“At visiting you first.” Pat took Pran’s backpack off and got his hands on Pran’s hips.<\/p>\n

“I’m not sure if that means you beat me,” Pran teased. “You really missed me?”<\/p>\n

“Of course.” Pat pulled away and looked Pran in the eyes. “Didn’t you miss me?”<\/p>\n

Pran paused, and Pat panicked for a second\u2014but then Pran said, “Pat, I missed you so much. You have no idea. It’s been so busy, and I’ve had so much work, and I just want to come home to you every night and not think about anything else ever again.”<\/p>\n

Pat could cry, so he kissed Pran again so Pran wouldn’t see his tears. Pran held his face and a tear trickled down Pat’s cheek, tracing the edge of Pran’s thumb. “Fuck,” said Pat, against his lips. “I missed you so bad too, Pran. I just\u2014you didn’t say it, you didn’t say you missed me, and I wanted you to say it first\u2014”<\/p>\n

“I wanted you<\/em> to say it first,” Pran mumbled against his lips, and they both laughed.<\/p>\n

“I wanted to FaceTime,” said Pat, as Pran’s thumbs stroked his stubble. “I wanted to\u2014and I was looking for this photo of you, but I couldn’t\u2014and all your food went bad, because it’s been so long\u2014”<\/p>\n

Pran laughed at him again, but his eyes were watery. “Okay,” he said to Pat gently. “Okay, we can FaceTime, and you should check under your couch because I told you things get lost down there. And I’ll come back and make more food for you, okay? I promise. And I’ll give you all the recipes too.”<\/p>\n

“But your food tastes better when you cook it,” Pat said with a pout, even though his heart was fluttering.<\/p>\n

Pran stroked the bow of Pat’s lips, palms warm against his now-two-in-the-afternoon shadow. “I can’t come back all the time, you know,” he said mournfully. “But I definitely will next time. Sooner.”<\/p>\n

“Okay,” Pat agreed happily, and kissed him again.<\/p>\n

They made love in Pran’s bedroom with the view of the Marina Bay Sands, and it was awesome. But not as awesome as Pran naked and on his back and arching as he moaned Pat’s name, sweating and glistening on his striped comforter, glowing and golden.<\/p>\n

“You can tell people you’re taken, too,” he said loftily, after they were done with their first round and catching their breath. “You don’t have to pretend like you’re not dating anyone.”<\/p>\n

Pat squinted at him. “Have you been talking to Wai?”<\/p>\n

Pran shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, not meeting Pat’s eyes. “Now are we going to go again or not?”<\/p>\n

They made love again and again until Pat’s soul was singing, until he and Pran were so closely entwined it was like they could never be separated again, even if they were miles apart, countries apart, oceans apart. He would miss Pran again eventually, he knew, but he was here now\u2014and he was going to cherish every second, every atom Pran breathed back into Pat’s life.<\/p>\n

*<\/p>\n

Pat decided to stay until the weekend and Pran agreed, initially suggesting for them to do more touristy things the next day until they got distracted in Pran’s kitchen, then the living room, and then the bedroom again. Still, in the evening Pran took him to his favorite nearby dinner place and they fed each other chicken and rice while admiring the night sky. It was in a shopping center; afterward, Pat spotted a photo booth and said, “We should do that!”<\/p>\n

“Pat,” Pran complained, but it was only perfunctory as he didn’t protest when Pat dragged him inside.<\/p>\n

They took a series of five photos\u2014Pat kissed Pran in one and took off his shirt in another\u2014before Pran pushed them out as soon as they were done. “We are not defiling a public space,” he hissed to Pat.<\/p>\n

“Not another one, you mean,” Pat said with a grin.<\/p>\n

Pran rolled his eyes. His cheeks were red. The booth spat out two copies of their photos, and Pat snatched them both.<\/p>\n

“For me,” he said smugly to Pran. “Now I can put one on my wall and<\/em> my car.”<\/p>\n

Pran took one from him easily. “Nope, this one’s mine,” he said.<\/p>\n

Pat stuck his tongue out. “Fine,” he said, but he was grinning.<\/p>\n

They spent Pat’s visit inside more often than Pran would’ve liked, but Pat was already thinking of visiting him again, because then they could do all the public and touristy stuff they wanted. They were in a new country so it didn’t matter if people knew if they were dating or not, but Pat was selfish and wanted Pran all to himself. For this visit, anyway, as he woke up the next morning with his naked ankles tangled with Pran’s.<\/p>\n

Pran woke up around the same time, and smiled when he saw Pat. “Hi,” he said to Pat.<\/p>\n

“Hi,” Pat said, and then they spent the morning doing very little talking.<\/p>\n

Pat was set to leave later, and Pran was the one who was saying goodbye to him this time. “I can’t believe you didn’t pack anything,” Pran said, as he straightened Pat’s collar in the airport line.<\/p>\n

Pat got close to him. “I just wanted to see you,” he said. “I’m a dedicated lover.”<\/p>\n

“More like an animal or a dog.” But Pran cupped Pat’s face, which he’d shaved for Pat, just last night. “I love you,” he said.<\/p>\n

Pat beamed in his palm. “Love you too,” he said. “And.<\/em> I’ll miss you.”<\/p>\n

“I’ll miss you more.” Pran smacked his face lightly, and Pat giggled.<\/p>\n

“Not if I miss you<\/em> more,” he said, and Pran rolled his eyes and dragged him in for a kiss.<\/p>\n

They kissed until someone behind them said, “Gentlemen?” and they were met with the faces of dozens of annoyed passengers behind them. Pran seemed embarrassed, but Pat wasn’t. He had the sexiest boyfriend here.<\/p>\n

“I’m gonna go,” said Pran, but held Pat’s hand until he was walking through the security line.<\/p>\n

Pat blew him kisses as he walked through, and later even as he walked backward to his terminal. He saw Pran wave at him until he disappeared around the corner\u2014and when Pat went back up to check, Pran was still there. Pat blew him one last kiss before departing to his gate.<\/p>\n

He got home to his Bangkok apartment, aching and full all at once. Because he was alone, but he wasn’t really, because a part of him was still in Singapore, with Pran. He knew that now, even as he found the younger photo of Pran under his couch. Wherever they were, they weren’t that far apart because they had each other, no matter how far or wide or long they may be. Pat missed him, but that was a reassurance\u2014that he loved Pran, even if the only thing he had of him was his scent on a t-shirt or his body.<\/p>\n

And when he found the box of trinkets in Pran’s room that Pran had told him about after Pat mentioned his memory board, he pulled out a guitar pick from several years ago. It might look good next to a strip of photos from a photobooth, his own teenaged face in the shape of Pran’s thumb, smiling next to a snapshot of Pran kissing him back. Pran had always left the box of things in his old room, he’d told Pat, because he wanted a reason to return to his family’s house. Pat smiled and turned the pick over in his palm.<\/p>\n

Pran was coming back, so Pat was going to always be here, where Pran could find him, guitar pick and all. To see him again, no matter how long it took, and welcome him home. “You’d wait for me for that long?” Pran had asked him in bed, beaming in the sunlight refracting off the Singaporean skyline and the joy of having Pat’s body entangled with his again.<\/p>\n

Pat smiled and held Pran’s face with his hands, his favorite sight in the world. “I promise.”<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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