Chapter Text
They stayed out till 5am; their group split up at various points of the night so Wai, Korn, Pat and Pran stumbled back into Pran’s apartment an hour later, after several chaotic and unresponsible delays; Korn stole a traffic cone (they had to walk a long way to put it back), Wai threw his phone on top of a roof (they had to help him retrieve it), Pat broke an e-scooter (they had to hide the evidence) and Pran threw an open bottle of water over some strangers by mistake (they had to run away and they all ended up throwing up in the street after they ran hard for so long).
Before Pran went out, he had the sense to stop by the 7-Eleven to buy various energy, vitamins, and electrolyte drinks. He kept his medicine box stocked up at all times and had plenty of meat, noodles, and other ingredients to make soups. He even left two glasses of water out for them to drink when they got back. He felt prepared for the following day.
How wrong he was.
Pat woke up first at around 9am. And he was on the floor of their bedroom. His head was pounding and he could feel his stomach lurching, whirling and like he would throw up if he sat up or moved, or breathed. He took stock of himself, pathetically squirming on the rug; he’d attempted to take his trousers off last night, only one leg though. He noticed he was wearing Pran’s t-shirt too, entirely unsure of how that happened. Pran. Pat pushed himself up, burping and groaning as he forced his eyes to focus. Pran was facedown and starfished on the bed, only in his underwear, his head pressed in between his and Pat’s pillows,
He couldn’t stop what came next; his entire body screamed that he needed to throw up. Pat crawled into their en-suite, losing his trousers along the way, and attempted to shut the door but failed. He spent 20 minutes with his head in the toilet. He threw up so much; it was like there was no end in sight.
“Shut up!” Pran’s voice came muffled but loud from the bedroom. Pat could only groan in response. Pran continued to mumble, something about Pat always sounding like a dinosaur when he was vomiting.
Pat had flushed the toilet so many times he had to keep waiting for it to refill. He flushed it a final time but wasn’t confident it was over. But he didn’t have much of a choice.
The door swung up and Pran all but fell into the toilet, hugging the bowl and throwing up immediately. They were different; Pat was loud but relatively concise whenever he was sick, Pran was quieter but he cried and there was no pattern to it at all. Whilst Pran faced the toilet, Pat sat on the cold floor, his back against the shower and his knees up and wide apart. With his head dropped back against the glass door, he rubbed Pran’s back soothingly until Pran slapped his arm away. Pat gave up the attempts at comfort when he felt like he was going to go again, he brought his knees together and drew them up so he could rest his head against his knees. After 15 minutes of silence, Pran flushed the toilet and sat on the floor, legs stretched out and flat on the floor. Pat took the toilet roll off its holder, took some for him and threw the roll at Pran, who let it fall into his lap instead of catching it. They blew their noses and threw the tissue into the toilet at the same time.
“I feel rough” Pat croaked and then coughed. Pran just nodded and then looked over at Pat, effectively doing a triple take as he realised, he was wearing his top. “Don’t ask, don’t remember” Pat murmured, rubbing at his chest. Pran just rolled his eyes, but then groaned as it hurt to move even his eyeballs.
They sat in silence until Pran stumbled up, using every available surface for leverage. He slowly brushed his teeth and Pat just watched him from the floor. The back of his neck was covered in hickies of various colours and he felt so proud. He groaned quietly, forcing himself onto his hands and knees, where he stayed for a while as his brain re-orientated itself. Pran nudged his waist with his shin, to which Pat groaned out a complaint, and took his toothbrush out of his mouth, “move, need the toilet” he grumbled and then spat the toothpaste into the sink, put the toothbrush back in its holder and wiped his mouth on the back of his wrist. Pat crawled out of the bathroom and Pran shut the door behind him. Pat crawled onto the bed, he found Nong Nao under his pillow and curled into the foetal position as he clutched the plush to his chest. He fell asleep like that until Pran opened the bathroom door, walked out and stood at the edge of his side of the bed, “Pat”, he murmured as he tugged on the duvet Pat laid on top of. Pat opened his eyes and glared at him for disturbing his slumber. “Move, fierce-eyes”.
“Sleep on the other side” he murmured into Nong Nao’s head.
“You’re taking up the whole bed, move your ass” Pran tutted impatiently, his voice just as hoarse.
Pat eventually moved and they both, somehow, made it into their bed without throwing up again. They slept for four more hours, curled up and faced away from each other. They loved each other, of course, but when their skin felt like it was crawling and they could both throw up again at any time, it was better not to spoon.
Pran woke up to the sound of his front door closing, he assumed it was Korn and Wai going home so he reached over to his phone to check, but he realised too late his phone wasn’t on the side table where he usually kept it. He groaned and slowly sat up, looking around the room to find his clothes. He rubbed at his face as he forced himself out of bed, one leg, and then the other, was just torture. He found his jeans and took his phone out, throwing them in the direction of the laundry basket. He blinked his eyes a few times to get them to focus and he read a text from Wai that confirmed what he thought.
Pran dropped his phone on the bedside table and dropped back into bed dramatically. Pat, woken up by the sudden movement, protested at the noises and how the mattress kept shaking, making him feel sick again. They stayed in silence as they woke up. Pat was the first to sit up and he shuddered as he pushed his hair back off his face, “gonna shower” he murmured pathetically and blindly reached out to Pran. He felt his leg and rubbed it a few times then got up and dragged himself to their en-suite.
Pran was grateful for the white noise of the shower as he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating all his life choices until that moment. Bits and pieces of their night came back to him. He reached out for his phone and began checking social media accounts, there were lots of photos. None of him and Pat. Even drunk, they were good at hiding from their parents. Pat looked incredible. He zoomed in on certain parts of photos that had Pat in and he saved a few to his camera roll for later. On one hand, he was relieved that they had gotten away with it, but on the other hand, he understood Pat wanted pictures of them together and he felt sad because he couldn’t make Pat happy. He heard Pat throwing up again, alongside the shower running. He hoped Pat would’ve had the sense to throw up in the toilet.
Pran got dressed in a pair of Pat’s sweatpants and one of Pat’s hoodies, he felt like he needed to be close to him in every way. He fetched a glass of water from the kitchen, hissing at the sun coming in from the windows and how cold the wooden floor was on his bare feet. He knocked on the bathroom door and entered without waiting for confirmation. Pat was in the shower, under the spray, but not doing anything, he was just letting the water run over his naked body, and his hair wasn’t even wet (he always had to bend down to reach the shower head anyway).
“Drink this” Pran handed it to him and scanned the shower tray, he surmised that he didn’t throw up in it. Pat drained the glass and handed it back then turned the water off.
“Felt sweaty and sticky, but my arms ache too much to move,” he said as he stepped out and leaned against the sink, dripping water onto the tiles. Pran took a towel off the hook on the back of the door and laid it on Pat’s back.
Pat wrapped himself up in it and closed his eyes, groaning quietly. Pran knew he was in pain but he couldn’t help but smile softly. Even in this dishevelled state, Pat was the most beautiful thing he ever laid eyes on. Even after hearing him throw up, after seeing him be sick, he still counted himself lucky. He still couldn’t believe he’d landed the man of his dreams, who had made his heart race since he was 13.
Pran gently rubbed circles into Pat’s back and looked at Pat’s reflection in the mirror. Pat peered into the mirror and saw Pran smiling at him, which brought a smile to his face as well, “what are you looking at?” Pat asked and turned to face him. “Those are my clothes” he smiled.
“You look as bad as I feel,” Pran said, opting into their usual banter instead of the love-sick statements he wanted to make.
“My mouth tastes like ass” he licked his teeth.
“Brush your teeth then” Pran scoffed and looked at himself in the mirror, running his fingers through his hair. Pat leaned against him and he nuzzled his head against Pran’s head. Pran ran his fingers through Pat’s hair, “it was a good night”.
“Awesome night” he nodded and sighed happily “I could go again right now” he said facetiously.
“Oh yeah, me too” Pran nodded and kissed his temple. “Get dressed,” he said and let him go, leaving the room altogether. He walked out into the living room and put the TV on.
Pat got dressed into his softest, which happened to be the shortest, pair of shorts he owned, he felt too hot and clammy to wear anything else. He stepped out of their bedroom and saw Pran tidying up the kitchen. “Are you making food?” he asked and approached him.
Pran did a double-take when he saw Pat and sighed “Pat, seriously?”. He just scratched at his armpit and shrugged.
“What?”
Pran rolled his eyes and pursed his lips, gestured to his body, “put on a t-shirt”.
“Why? I’m too warm!” Pat complained and dropped his arms to his sides.
“It’s your body playing tricks on you, because of the hangover” he focussed on scrubbing at the counter, avoiding looking at Pat altogether.
“Is it?” Pat eyed him suspiciously and walked around the counter, dragging his index finger across the surface. Pran followed his finger but didn’t look at Pat. “I think I’m just too distracting”.
“No” Pran tried to deny it but he could tell Pat was already onto him.
“No?” Pat leaned back against the counter, pressing his ass against the cupboards. He dragged his finger from the counter down till he put his hand in his pocket. Pran followed the entire movement and then shook his head, “nooo?” Pat pressed again, leaned in and raised his eyebrows innocently.
“Pat, just put a top on, please?” Pran turned to the sink and Pat just smirked.
“Okay, okay” he pushed off the counter “since you asked so nicely”. Pat always loved seeing Pran flustered.
After a few minutes, he returned wearing a sleeveless t-shirt and Pran let out a breath he was holding. In the meantime, he had taken out paracetamol for both of them. They swallowed their pills and washed them back with water and then Pat placed his hands gingerly on Pran’s hips, stroking back and forth with his thumbs and squidging his fingers into the soft layer of fat that accumulated there. He almost pulled away as Pran didn’t look up for any touching at all, but when he felt Pran’s left hand smooth over the small of his back he let himself relax, softly exhaling. Pat wanted to shrink down and climb into Pran’s hoodie pocket like a baby kangaroo would do with its mother’s pouch. He just wanted to be impossibly close to Pran for the whole day, or at least, until he felt 100 times better. Pat leaned in to kiss him, lingering about halfway. He thought he might’ve asked for too much but Pran closed the distance to kiss him. Only they got interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Pat! Pran! You can’t ignore my calls forever! Open the door, I know you’re home”.
They sighed in unison and let each other go. Pran stayed where he was, and stuffed his hands into his hoodie pocket.
Pat unlocked the door, a gruff noise escaping his lips at her blunt demeanour, “would you keep it down?” he whined, throwing his middle finger up at his little sister as he burped in her face.
“Charming, brother, just charming” Pa exclaimed in disgust as shoved past him, holding two white carrier bags that had a glorious combination of greasy smells emitting from both. Pat snatched both of the bags from her and let the door close behind them before she could decide what to do with them, “I brought you fried things because you both become wastes of space when you’re hungover”. She raised her index finger to Pran as he opened his mouth to protest, “deny it all you want Pran, but you’re even worse than he is”.
Pat had dropped the bags on the coffee table and wasted no time in grabbing one of the polystyrene boxes from the bag and opening it with no grace or decorum whatsoever. He held a piece of fried chicken with three fingers, hunched over the box as he ate. Pran and Pa watched him in, repulsed as he sucked the meat off the bone. Pat inhaled and exhaled around the meat loudly to cool it down as he chewed it because it was way too hot to eat but, he wanted it anyway.
“Blergh! You are disgusting!” Pa stomped over to him, “You look like some kind of ogre or gremlin or something, can’t you eat like a normal person instead of looking like you belong under a bridge?” she said as she flicked his forehead three times.
Pran shook his head at their antics, rubbing at his temple, “stop” he murmured as walked into the kitchen to make coffee. Pat and Pa continued to bicker loudly;
“You look like a hag, you have so many wrinkles, you belong in a toilet”
“A toilet? That doesn’t make any sense. You are literally a gargoyle the way you’re hunched over like that”
“You clearly didn’t sleep well, your pores are open and it makes your nose look huge. Pran, doesn’t her nose look ginormous?”
“You’re so obnoxious! And your hair is so greasy, I bet they could see it from space. Pran! Tell him!”
“My hair? What about your hair? Is there a family of birds living in it? Because it looks like a nest for some birds, ugly birds too I bet. Matches your personality. And your face.”
Pran ignored them and just sipped his coffee, holding it close to his face as if the coffee steam would go directly into his brain and give him energy, and the will to live.
“You are way uglier than me. Look at your eyebrows, they’re like two slugs on a plate”
“The only thing like a slug around here is you, with your weird-shaped body and the fact you have no brain.”
“Wow, wow, wow! If you were as smart as you claimed to be you’d know that slugs and snails have-”
“Enough!” Exacerbated, Pran slammed his coffee mug against the kitchen counter and glared at both of them. They didn’t even glance at Pran, they just continued to make faces at each other but Pran didn’t have the energy to scold, “Pa, I love you, but why are you here?”.
“I brought food as a thank you for last night” She threw her middle finger up at Pat as she walked to the kitchen, eventually ignoring him altogether even as the sounds of him eating got purposefully louder.
“Last night? What about last ni-” Pran gasped loudly and suddenly and he stared at Pa as the memories of the fight flooded back into his mind. The bruise on Pat’s cheek, their reddened knuckles and aching joints, all made sense. “Pat! I can’t believe you!”
With food half-chewed in his mouth, Pat approached the kitchen, “what?”.
“The fight! You instigated it!”
“No, I didn’t!”
“So you remember it!?”
“Kind of. I remember most of the fight, you were super hot and sexy when you kicked that guy. Aaaaand I remember what we did after” Pat grinned and flashed his eyebrows up and down, to which Pa rolled her eyes and groaned. “But I don’t remember much else yet”.
“Paaat” Pran whined and rubbed at his face stressfully “We’re not supposed to be fighting people”.
“Well, look, lament over it all you want. I just wanted to say thanks.” Pa said as he dusted off her forearm and then examined the red mark on her wrist. Pat wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.
“You obviously don’t have to thank me for that” he smiled and squeezed her again “Your thank-you-chicken tastes great. And as much as I’d love to finish that movie we started last week, I need to sleep for 12 hours”.
“That’s fine, I wasn’t going to stay anyway, just drop off the food” She nodded as Pat walked back to the bags on the table. Pa walked around to Pran who was rubbing the inside corners of his eyes “Thank you Pran. Again”.
Pran sighed quietly and eventually smiled “It’s okay”. He put an arm around her shoulders to pull her in for a hug. She nuzzled her face into his chest endearingly then continued until it became aggressively annoying. Pat did a similar thing. Pran pushed her away “alright, get going. I need to eat and sleep too”. She waved goodbye and called out to Pat, reminding him to respond to the family group chat, to which he waved at her dismissively.
Pran returned to his coffee mug and brought it to the couch. He grimaced at the way Pat ate loudly and messily, though to his surprise he didn’t get any crumbs or grease on the floor or the table, it was contained entirely on his person. Pran would let him get away with that. He sat in his usual corner, tucked one leg under his knee, his coffee held tightly in both hands, his other leg spread out and he pushed at Pat’s back with his heel “You know, you still have an infamous reputation for fighting. Is there something you’re not telling me? Do you fight and not tell me about it?”. Pat scoffed, rolled his eyes and dropped the bone of the chicken he ate into the box.
“You think I’d be able to get away with it?” Pat threw a glance over his shoulder then paid attention to his hands as he rubbed his fingertips together, sprinkling the crumbs into the box too. He could feel Pran’s eyes on him whenever he cleaned up, even now with their heads still foggy he knew Pran would be on his case about not leaving a mess. “The teachers would be all over me if I did” he shook his head as he dusted his hands off and sat back on the couch, sitting with his legs crossed underneath him. He brought Pran’s outstretched leg onto his lap and Pran let him, though he raised an eyebrow curiously at Pat when he just left his leg there as he silently checked his phone for a few minutes.
“No foot massage?” he raised a single eyebrow and Pat guffawed.
“Please baby, I know you. I know you’re thinking about the grease on my fingers and it getting on your sock if I did. Which is ridiculous, because your sock has been on the floor and if anything, I should complain about your dirty sock touching my leg, but I graciously won’t” Pat smirked and Pran just pulled his mouth down and shrugged in that aloof way he did when he didn’t want Pat to know he’d hit the nail on the head. “It’s good, you should eat it before it goes cold”. He leaned forward, squashed Pran’s leg between his lap and his abs, and picked up the bag, holding it out for Pran to take.
“Ow, ow! Your bony knees have pierced into my leg” Pran complained as he pulled his leg out of his lap and dropped his foot to the floor. Pat just scoffed with a light roll of his eyes. Pran drained most of the coffee and put it down on the table beside him then took the bag from Pat. As Pran ate the chicken happily, Pat stood up and stretched.
He went straight to the kitchen. He washed his hands, and after drying them on his shorts, he opened the fridge and hummed as he took stock of the available drinks. He picked out a bottle of coconut water and gulped and swallowed so loud that Pran scowled over at him twice. “Ahhh!” he exclaimed after he finished it and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling bin. “You know” he began as he returned to the couch “I was thinking about last night”.
“Careful, don’t think too hard”
“Funny” Pat flicked him on the back of the head as he stood behind him, hands flat on the back of the couch. He looked down at the top of Pran’s head, “do you remember what you did?”. He wanted his hands on Pran in naughty ways.
“Uhm- yeah” he swallowed his mouthful “I kicked that guy, you said that it was cool.” Pran continued to eat unassumingly. Pat smirked and leaned down so his mouth was lined up with Pran’s ear.
“No, baby, not that”
Pran picked up on the change in Pat’s tone of voice, the one he used when he was thinking about dirty things, he paused mid-chew. He thought about what they did in the alley and his eyes widened in realisation, “Oh fuck”. Pran swallowed too early, it hurt his throat, but he needed to leave the room. He groaned and hurried as he put the chicken back in the box and then the box back in the bag.
“Yeah…” Pat grinned wickedly “You need to put a collar on me soon. Aaaaand... You spat in my mouth”.
“Fuck” Pran whispered harshly as he stood up and faced him, chewing on his bottom lip with worry “Pat, I’m so sorry. I should not have done that without asking you”.
“What? Are you kidding?” Pat’s eyes widened in surprise. He walked around the couch and took Pran’s hands in his own. “Baby, it was mega hot, why are you sorry?” He brought one hand to his mouth and began sucking and licking each of his greasy fingers, trying to restart the sexual energy he had begun with. Pran let him but he sighed in dismay.
“Paaaat, it doesn’t matter if you liked it. We’ve talked about…” he quietened his voice as if someone could hear them “kinks before”. He watched as Pat cleaned his fingers “Pat, are you even listening? I’m serious here”. Pat just gave an affirmative hum, eyes flicking up to meet Pran’s gaze.
“We’ve talked about kinks and stuff, I know. But we should always talk about what we want to do first and get approval. What if you hated it? I was already doing it and didn’t even think about whether you’d hate it, that’s awful”. He frowned in concern, pulling his hands away as Pat finished.
“Praaaan” Pat placed his hands on his hips and shuffled closer to him “I’m okay. I loved it, I nearly came as soon as you did”.
“I told you, it doesn’t matter if you liked it” Pran countered, keeping his arms at his side, as if refusing to touch Pat back would be his penance.
“Baby, c’mere” Pat sighed and regarded him seriously, pulling him down to the couch. They sat facing each other, both with their knees crossed under themselves. Pat kept his hands on Pran’s knees. “I trust you implicitly. I give myself to you freely and trust that you know how to take care of me, and how to give me what I need. Not just sex stuff, but everyday stuff too. In my head, I always know that you won’t let me get away with something if I do something wrong. You keep me responsible, and… I feel safe knowing that you know me. Nobody else in the world knows me like how you know me, I swear you know me better than me. And… I like to think I know you pretty well too. Which is why I accept your apology. But frankly, I didn’t need one. I put myself in your hands, I gave you that power over me, and it makes me feel good. It feels good to give up control to you and it makes me feel better knowing that you feel better when you’re in control. So, try not to dwell on this, okay?”
Pran listened to Pat carefully, a smile beginning in the corner and spreading to the rest of his mouth, “I shouldn’t try to control the uncontrollable, Pat”.
“Well lucky for you,” Pat leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose “I’m not uncontrollable. I’ve always told you what I’ve liked and what I’ve hated, always. I always will, and you know that. This is just your hangover talking” he leaned back and smiled. “Smile for me, dimples”. Pran rolled his eyes but gave in anyway, showing them off for him.
“It just feels like you’re letting me get away with it” Pran sighed and rubbed at the hairs on Pat’s knee.
“Well let me put it this way then. You feel bad because, ultimately, you think I’m upset or uncomfortable right? I’m not, I feel fine. Actually, I feel terrible because my head is splitting and I think I’m going to throw up the chicken, but in terms of the spitting, I’m completely fine, good even I’d love it if you did it again. So… your feeling bad is a you problem.”
“Is this you trying to make me feel better about it? Because you were doing really well until just then”.
“Shut up, I’m losing my train of thought because you’re staring at me too hard” Pat could feel his ears flushing so he covered Pran’s eyes with his hand. Pran chuckled, he pulled Pat’s wrist down so he could keep looking at him.
“I get it. I’ll try and sleep some more and I’ll probably feel better later” he sat back. Pat shuffled closer and leaned in for a kiss but Pran didn’t meet his lips. Pat let out a frustrated huff and Pran just smiled innocently. Pat rushed forward and kissed him deeply until Pran placed a hand on his shoulder and broke away “You need to brush your teeth”.
“Yeah? Is my breath gross?” he breathed out against his face and Pran grimaced and gagged loudly, shoving him away, “You’re a beast! Get away from me until you brush your teeth. And shower again, properly this time”.
“Twice?” Pat laughed and stood up, scratching at his stomach “You’ll just complain about how much water I’m wasting”.
“So you do listen to me about water consumption?” Pran stood and picked up the bag to take it to the fridge.
“I always listen to you, darling” he lied sweetly and walked to their bedroom. “Hey Pran, want to shower with me?” he raised an eyebrow suggestively, “you can clean me however you like,” he said in a sing-song way.
Pran considered it for a moment and then scoffed, “You’re just trying to be lazy”.
“Me? No!” Pat said as he pulled his top off over his head and tossed it into the bedroom haphazardly, hoping Pran would follow after it and pick it up. Which he did.
Pat shut the bedroom door behind them and slid his shorts down, kicking them into the laundry basket. He tugged at the waistband of his underwear with his thumbs as he approached Pran slowly. Pran eyed him up and down, “Are you trying to entice me into having sex with you?” he asked, already knowing the answer, his voice pitched low in the way he knew Pat loved as he laid his hands on his waist and then stroked down to his hips slowly.
“Yeah, baby. Because I know you need it”.