Chapter 1: this is how it starts
Chapter Text
Keen has loved him the first time he saw him.
Not the first time he caught sight of Tum, hell no. He can't even remember when that was. The music faculty in this university was so big considering it's not even a full conservatory. Besides, Keen mostly kept to his own group of friends their first year. Lhong, Tharn and Tum were the rockstars of their batch - loud and popular and larger than life. Their adoring fans flocked to the college entrance regularly enough Keen remembered fearing for his guitar's safety as he struggled to pass them on his way to class.
Barely a semester later, half his friend group had shifted to other programs, and Tharn's band went from four to three. Keen didn’t really care (okay, maybe he did just a bit) but it was impossible not to know about it, what with everyone in the college from the freshies to the faculty gossiping about the fight between Tharn and Tum for weeks on end.
He was drinking his way through an atrociously boring blind date Solo had set him up with when a familiar voice came from the stage.
"Good evening. Tonight, I'll be playing some songs by Three Man Down. The first will be City. I hope you enjoy."
Keen turned to look and saw Tum alone on the stage, cradling his guitar like a beloved child. The spotlight shone on him, made doubly bright by the lack of light across the rest of the bar. He wrapped long fingers around the mic to drag it closer and started to sing.
That's when Keen saw him properly for the first time. That's when Keen promptly fell in love.
*
He's not sure where he found the courage, or the patience, to be honest, to work his way to being Tum's friend. It was so frustrating, because most of the time they were together (studying in the library during free periods, and never anywhere outside school-related activities, much to Keen's displeasure), Tum barely looked up from his phone. He was repeatedly refreshing somebody's Instagram page, somebody Keen would later learn is Tar. Tum refused to share anything personal. At least not at first.
But he kept at it, because Keen has never been in love before, and he thought he quite liked the feeling. The thrill of it, the chase. The simple joy he got just from staring at Tum's handsome face. He's quieter now that he doesn’t hang around Tharn and Lhong, and Keen thought he liked him better this way. He just wished he would talk to him, though. But that's okay too. That Tum let Keen sit beside him and didn’t push him away like he does everyone else is enough. They'll get there eventually.
*
As it turned out, it took a year.
The first time Tum hugged him, Keen swore his heart stopped beating.
They were at the college canteen, sharing a large bowl of pad krapow gai (because, as Keen was delighted to discover, the small one is never enough for Tum, but he can't finish the large one by himself either) when a couple of students he's never seen before start loudly gossiping about Tum, wondering why he had to break up the band and how poor Tharn must be absolutely heartbroken, and what a horrible way it was to repay his friendship.
And suddenly, without knowing how, Keen was there, so much anger - the kind of which he's never known before, the kind that would almost scare him if he felt it on behalf of anyone but Tum - simmering under his skin as he tells them off, asking them to learn all sides of the story first before they started talking shit about things they know nothing about.
The students looked fearfully up at him, scrambled to collect their things and moved to another table. Keen glared until they’re out of sight, the anger in his chest shifting into something a little like exhilaration as he walked back to Tum.
“What?”
Tum shook his head and dragged Keen by the arm all the way to the back of the college, in the little alcove behind the maintenance shed that they frequent whenever Keen gives in and lights a smoke.
(Keen refused to think of it too often, the fact that Tum insisted on coming with him every single time despite his aversion to the smell, just to make sure that Keen didn’t smoke more than necessary. Because it was a small, sweet thing, and he’s ridiculously afraid that if he thought about it too much, Tum might catch on and stop. He doesn’t want that to happen.)
“Thank you.”
He said it simply, and a small smile formed on his lips before Keen can control himself. But then Tum did something magical. He pulled Keen into a hug, his familiar perfume (French, he notes dimly) enveloping Keen’s senses, his arms warm and sure around Keen's shoulders.
His world stops.
So this is what it feels like. To have hope, even if just for a moment, that maybe he hasn’t been wasting his time. That maybe he wasn't deluding himself and what was between them could actually be something more than-
"You're a good friend, Keen."
It's both the best and worst thing Tum's ever told him.
Keen swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and nodded, letting himself revel in the feel of Tum so close to him before pulling away.
"Anything for you," he murmured, softly enough that he could pretend not to have said it.
Tum sat down after, sighing to the ground, wringing his hands together. Keen has seen those hands coax music from different instruments, fingers playing perfectly over strings, dancing lightly over wood and plastic and ivory. He's seen them wrapped around pens and chopsticks, drumsticks and bag straps. Always, always so self-assured. But not now. Keen resists the urge to destroy whatever caused the tremble in those hands.
“Tharn used to date my brother.”
Keen startled. "You don't have to tell me-"
"I want to. You stayed beside me all this time and never asked. I was so grateful for it, because everyone seemed intent on believing the worst of me. Because of course Tharn could do no wrong, right?"
Keen made a noise of protest that Tum quiets with another wry smile. Keen aches to replace it with a genuine one, convince him that he's ten times the man Tharn could ever hope to be, but he knows it's not his place.
"It destroyed him when they broke up. So much that he moved to France for university instead of joining me here."
Oh. Okay?
"Tar was so upset, Keen. He withdrew into himself and stopped talking to me. To me. He doesn’t- Tar doesn't do that," Tum explained urgently, dark eyes coming alive with worry and desperation, "And Tharn made him that way. I couldn't just stand aside and do nothing."
Keen just nodded, because it seemed important, at the time, to let Tum know that he understood and that he's on his side.
"It's okay if you don't believe me," Tum says in a small voice, deflating just as quickly, "You've been a good friend this past year. I'm sorry I never told you."
"NO!"
It's Tum's turn to be startled, the vehemence in Keen's voice as much of a surprise for him as it is for Keen himself.
"I meant, I believe you. It's great that you care so much about your family to put him above your friends."
"Right." There's a strange look in Tum's eyes when he agrees.
"Right." Keen repeated, his cheeks heating up.
"Right." Tum started to smile. It's a little lopsided on his face, and Keen was shocked to realize that it was the first time he's seen it on his face. It looked absolutely lovely, he wanted to cry a little bit.
"Right." Keen knocked their shoulders together, trying to distract himself.
“Right.” Tum's smile turned teasing, sending an unexpected coil of heat low in Keen's gut, the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Solo telling him you're so fucked.
"Wanna ditch class and grab a beer?"
He's heard that line from various friends countless times before. None of them ever sounded so inviting, so filled with the promise of illicit adventure and of choices he knows he’s going to regret in the future but makes anyway, as it did in Tum's rich voice.
"Let's go."
*
Alcohol didn’t hit Tum easily, but once it did, it did so hard. Keen heard Tharn get called every curse word in both Thai and English, some of which he didn’t even know. And he heard all about Tar too, precious, lovely, must protect at all costs Tar, who’s currently studying in France. It’s immediately clear just how much Tum adores his little (step? half?) brother, and Keen loved him all the more for it.
At the end of the night, when Tum's sobered up just as quickly as he got drunk, Keen's only starting to feel the effects of the pitcher of Mekhong they'd shared. As Tum drove him home, the world outside the passenger-side window passed in a blur of lights too harsh on his eyes. Keen turned his gaze to the right, struggling to make out Tum's profile. Tum had smiled at him, gently bumped his fist on his shoulder, and said "I got you."
You do, thought Keen, closing his eyes, you really do.
Keen thought he understood, because he’s got a little sister too and she's his whole world. There's nothing he wouldn't do for Chompoo.
But a week later, he's late for one of Tum's gigs, and he gets into the bar just in time to catch the tail end of Tum and Type's conversation. He hurriedly went back outside and out of sight, Type's voice asking Why don't you tell your brother that you're in love with him? ringing in his ears.
And Keen thought that maybe he didn’t actually understand anything at all.
*
A couple of years pass and Tum becomes Keen's best friend. He's not sure if Tum is aware of this.
His friends ask why he's so insistent on sticking with Tum when he could be friends with anyone. They've been out of the faculty for some time now, and Keen doesn’t have the heart to tell them that one of the students he told off sophomore year went on to become University Moon and had made him a bit of a pariah in his own faculty.
So Keen spends three years by Tum's side, carefully keeping his affection in check. He dates a couple of boys, a couple of girls - none of which on Solo's recommendation ever again - but no one really sticks. He feels bad, because they're all lovely people, really. The problem is with him and his annoying, intolerable, unrequited love for his best friend.
It's during one of their study breaks for the first semester of their senior year that Tum tells him Tar is coming home. His hands pause from where they're making tiny braids in Tum's hair - a habit he's picked up from years of doing it for his sister - and asks him when the flight is due to land.
Tum looks guiltily up at him and says a date Keen has marked on his calendar as the midterm presentation for their MUC441 project. His heart falls.
"Please, Keen. I'd give you anything. Both our parents are at work so no one's available to pick him up."
Keen returns to his desk, opening his laptop to the 16-paged progress report they're not even halfway close to finishing.
"I wouldn't ask if it was so important, Keen. Please? I'll make it up to you, I swear. Open pass, anything you want. I'll tune all your strings, I'll review all your pieces for Khru Non's class, I'll-"
"Enough, enough already," Keen replies, rolling his eyes, "I'll do it. And you can make up for it by presenting the one for finals."
"Yes!" Tum bounds over and squeezes his arm, "Definitely, I will. You're a godsend, Ai'Keen."
Keen just smiles, willing himself not to look down where Tum's hand was burning a brand on his arm. "Tell N'Tar welcome home for me."
His professors obliterate their project, and he steps off the stage with three pages worth of revisions on their piano pedagogy. Keen honestly wants to cry. Solo treats him for drinks after, toasting him in silence when his phone beeps with a notification from Tum's Instagram, showing off the sweets Tar brought him.
*
"P'Keen, I'm in love," Chompoo dreamily tells him, swinging her school bag as she floats through their door.
Keen smiles from the couch and opens his arms, letting his little sister nestle close and regale him with tales of Ae the hero.
"You should be more careful, nong. What were you doing near the canal in the first place?"
"P'Keen!" Chompoo whines, blinking their mother's eyes up at him, "You're missing the point! I'm in love and I'm going to find him and I'm going to ask him to be my boyfriend."
"That simple, huh?" Keen asks teasingly, gentle fingers undoing the braids in her hair.
Chompoo nods determinedly.
"Do you even know this guy? How can you say you're in love with him if you only met him once?"
"I'm in love with him because he helped me. He's my hero, P'Keen. When you fall in love too, you would know."
Keen thinks he knows by now. He wishes he doesn’t, sometimes. He knows that love doesn’t come just because someone helps you. But he also knows that being in love with someone means helping them despite knowing that they love someone else. Especially when they love someone else.
"Don't let him win your heart so easily," Keen warns.
Chompoo doesn’t listen. Ae Intouch breaks her heart. Several months later, someone Keen never met breaks Ae's.
Chapter 2: lightning strikes the heart
Notes:
keen and chompoo aren't siblings in the series, I just made that up. but I think it makes sense, no? dialogue in bold are lifted from the show
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
During his last semester at university, Keen meets Ae Intouch.
He would’ve forgotten about him - being a senior meant Keen is unbelievably busy - but the kid posts selfies on Facebook daily, and Chompoo likes and comments on every. single. one. of. them. She even shared a few. It’s never anything meaningful, just hearts or good luck stickers or a couple of “cheer up, phi!” s. So Ae makes his way to Keen’s newsfeed all the same, and he’s - he wants to say intriguing, to be kind.
He doesn’t cross Keen’s mind again until Keen’s at the studio, watching Tum listlessly strum a few chords.
“I’ve been here for a while already,” Keen responds when Tum asks what he’s doing.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing. It should be me asking that. You look troubled. Is there something on your mind? Is it about Tar?”
“No," Tum sighs, "Tar is fine. He called me yesterday to talk about his friends and his studies. There's nothing to worry about. I just- I feel like I don't have inspiration these days.”
Right. Of course. If Tar's fine, then there's nothing to worry about.
“Inspiration to write songs?” Keen asks, tuning back into the conversation.
“That's right. I want to write a love song but I have no idea how."
Well, that’s new. He and Tum don't really talk about things like this. When Keen went on his dating spree, Tum never asked why he suddenly had to leave rehearsals early and Keen never told him. But now, Tum's writing a love song. It's not required, he knows, because their professors look more at the composition than the genre. Keen desperately tries to tamp down the thing shaped like hope rising in his chest.
“I don't know how to write a love song, but I have an idea."
Keen watches Tum closely as he continues, "Someone told me that to write a love song, you must learn how to love first.”
Tum, his best friend of three years, whom he’s been in love with for just as long, looks up at him with his stupid perfect face and stupid perfect hair, and asks curiously: “Who will love someone like me?”
Keen kind of wants to smack someone. He's not sure if it's Tum or himself. When he speaks again, the words tumble irresponsibly out of his mouth. “How can you know if you haven't looked around?”
“What do you mean?”
What Keen wants to say, to shout , in Tum's face, is this: I’m in love with you, you dense, wonderful, talented idiot. I have been for years.
What he ends up saying is: “Just forget about it. Let's practice.”
“Okay,” Tum agrees simply, picking up his chord sheets.
Keen turns to his own guitar, tuning it to perfection, pondering on how loving was like making music: fingers on strings strumming until the right sounds come, fingers on strings until it bleeds.
*
"Wait, wait. Por, I'm not at the uni right now. We practiced at the studio rental. I told you this morning, remember?"
What's wrong? Tum mouths at him from the passenger seat. It's Keen's turn to drive him home today, and they're already at the turn to Tum's house when Keen's Por called him.
"I need to go back and pick Chompoo up from school."
"What, why?"
"Nothing bad, I forgot she had that volunteer camp today and Por's still at work, so…"
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"What? No, we're almost home. Your home, I mean. You should get some rest."
Tum smiles at him, the genuinely amused one only Keen sees.
"Yes, Mae. Tell N'Chompoo hello for me. Actually, I think I still have some truffles in the fridge."
Keen rolls his eyes, "She doesn't need to eat any more sweets, Tum."
"Too bad, she's gonna get some anyway," Tum replies, grinning, already rushing out of the car, "gimme two minutes to grab them and you can go."
Tum's no longer there to see when the helpless smile blooms on Keen's face.
*
The tour bus the club rented for the volunteer camp has long since driven away, leaving only a handful of students waiting for their rides home. Among them are three freshmen engineering majors, a sport science senior, and a high school student.
"It's okay, P'Ae. My brother just texted, he just entered the university."
"Go, N'Ae. I'll wait with her," Type assures him. "Pond looks like he's about to burst a vein."
"I am not," Pond protests hotly, "I'm just saying, sometimes the Engg seniors can be scarier than Ai'Shorty over here."
"Whatever. Let's go, Ai'Asshole. You're keeping Bow and Ping waiting."
"Even if you're the one who wanted to stay until N'Chompoo's brother got here?" Mai interrupts sarcastically.
Ae just stares at him. Mai holds his hands up in surrender and strolls away, Pond and Ae following.
"Don't let him drink again!" Type calls out, chuckling at the indignant glare Ae sends him and the horrified look on Pond's face.
"You're so responsible, P'Type," Chompoo marvels, smiling up at him.
Type almost chokes. Him, responsible. Right.
"Is your brother near? We should probably go inside.”
“It’s okay, phi. He’s almost here. P’Keen doesn’t like being on his phone when he’s driving.”
"Keen? He sounds familiar…"
"P'Keen!" Chompoo shouts, as a familiar Honda Civic pulls up in front of the student center.
Type holds onto Chompoo's duffel bag, ready to hold it off to the man stepping out of the car.
Keen opens his arms when Chompoo runs at him, one hand occupied with a box wrapped in familiar gold foil. Type has gotten a few of those over the years, made exclusively at the partner bakery of the university Tar goes to.
"Ecole Ducasse truffles," Type says by way of greeting, "those are rare."
"Are these from P'Tum?" Chompoo asks excitedly, accepting the box and holding it up to the light reverently.
"Yep, all for you, nong. He made sure to get the peppermint ones you like."
Chompoo beams, hugging Keen sideways, "P'Tum is the best."
Type frowns. "Tum from the Music faculty? Tar's brother?"
Keen finally looks at him, crossing his arms and smiling thinly.
"Yes. He’s my best friend. And you are?"
"Type Thiwat. I’m- I know Tharn. And Tar and I talk, sometimes."
"You know each other?” Chompoo chimes in, oblivious to the tension between her seniors, “That's great! P'Keen, P'Type was so helpful at camp today, looking out for all his juniors. Por didn’t have to worry, really. All the seniors were so nice and responsible. Lemon’s gonna be so mad she missed it. I can’t wait to get into university.”
“Is that right? You can’t get into university if you don’t study for the entrance test, then. Let’s go home.”
Chompoo nods, waiing quickly at Type and saying her goodbyes before obediently making her way around to the passenger side door. Keen stiffly stretches out his hand for Chompoo’s bag, Type staring at him for a long moment before handing it over.
“You know who I am, right?” Type asks.
“You were a little famous freshman year for being a homophobe, yeah,” Keen replies dryly, “So, I can’t really forget you.”
Type has the grace to look ashamed. Keen would’ve laughed, if it was anyone else.
“I meant about me and-”
“That you and Tharn are together. I know about that, too. Don’t worry, it’s not like it isn’t common knowledge at the faculty.”
“Okay, fine,” Type replies, pulling his phone out, “We’re all adults here. Put your number in. When you and Tum are free, maybe you can catch a meal with me and Tharn some time and they can finally talk.”
Keen looks down at the outstretched phone, and back up on the determined expression in Type’s face, unwilling to take no for an answer.
“And why should I do that?”
“Look, we’re graduating. It’s time to move forward. I want to give them that chance.”
“And why do I need to be there?”
Type smirks. “I’m sure Tum can use your support.”
Keen narrows his eyes, but keys his number in all the same. Type grins when he gives it back, throwing a salute over his shoulder as he walks away.
“Drive safe!”
*
“There's only you who understands me.”
“Well, do you want to understand me too?”
“What do you want me to understand?”
Everything. Keen wants Tum to understand everything without having to tell him, the way they wordlessly adjust during performances when one of them misses a note, or when Tum already knows what song he's thinking of just by the look on his face before he even hums.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Keen's said it a thousand times over in his head. Now, time's running out, their last semester passing by more quickly than he's comfortable. Type's words ring in his ear as clearly as they did two years ago, different but no less impactful.
"It's time to move forward."
Keen really, really doesn't want to.
“Whatever. About your inspiration, I found this guy. I think he's quite interesting.”
*
Keen has loved Tum the first time he saw him as a gangly first year, alone and friendless, performing on a too bright stage. Keen loves him now, frustrated but determined, surrounded by torn up notes and lyrics and cradling his guitar like a beloved child.
"Tum, Tum. Look at this. This guy that I told you about. He posted it again. I told you about him before. He always posts a photo every day. His caption is like, he's talking to someone. But he never tags anyone. I was going through his FB. He actually posts like this every day. It's like his diary. He posts where he goes, what he does and who he hangs out with. You should take a look."
Tum stares at him in that way he has, the one that gives Keen hope. Keen ducks down, cowed in the face of his own longing, right back into Ae's unamused face staring out of his phone screen.
"I don't think that's weird. People who use FB always do that. Then...why do you think he's interesting?"
"I don't know. You should go through it. It's like he wants to say something. He's telling what's going on in his life. But if you're not interested…"
"Who told you I'm not?"
There it is again. Keen gives himself permission, just once, to think that Tum means what he wants him to mean. He looks at him, and Tum looks back with an unreadable look on his face. What would it be like? If Keen just… told him? Would Tum understand? Would Tum insist on them not being friends anymore? Would Tum laugh it off and act like he didn't say anything? Keen doesn't know what would be worse.
"You said-," Keen replies weakly.
"I'm just asking," Tum interrupts him, smiling, "You know I believe in you."
"Should we go to meet him?"
*
Keen meets Ae Intouch for the first time. He looks at him, this boy who broke his sister's heart, and tries to see what she sees. But there's nothing, only a boy with sad eyes and an air of distrust around him.
He asks him about Tharn and Type - both of whom he's been trying not to think about, so thanks, Ae - and Keen answers perfunctorily, before laying out his proposal.
Ae's reluctant about the idea, not that Keen expected him to be otherwise.
He's done his homework. Stalked the Facebook profile with barely ten posts before the semester started. That was when the daily photos began. At first it was just selfies, the expression on Ae's face so awkward it was as if he was just forcing himself to smile. Then more often, the football field, the Engineering building or the freshman dorm. Nothing special, but consistently posted everyday with the same enduring captions.
Played a trial match today, the bleachers looked too empty.
Full day of lectures, starting to get sick of this building.
Did my laundry today, two batches only since they're all cheap cotton.
Morning run, I miss you.
Shrimp rice soup for breakfast, still not as good as when you made it.
He isn't even trying to be subtle about it. Keen wonders why he doesn't just message the person. It doesn't seem like it was one-sided affection, Ae's yearning so large and so plain it jumps off the screen, choking Keen in its familiarity.
He wonders sometimes, if he and Chompoo did some terrible things in a past life that they've both fallen for people so hopelessly devoted to someone else. But his sister is still young enough, this puppy love so harmless it would do her more good than harm in her journey to discovering what she wants love to look like in her life.
Keen doesn't know if he can say the same for himself.
"I'm not interested. You should find someone else."
"Wait, listen to me first."
"I can do it in my own way. I don't need help," Ae insists, in a way that tells Keen he's said it over and over before.
Ae's friend, the one in the Engineering jacket, looks at him in unmasked concern, making Keen feel like he's way in over his head. He presses his nails to the skin of his palm and wills himself to remain calm.
"Don't you want to tell that person more than just a few words?” Keen argues, trying to sound as reasonable as he could, “A song can say things more than words. This song can express your feelings for that person. Anyway. I just want you to think about it. I've got to go."
Keen forces himself not to look back, in fear that they would sense his desperation. Not that he did a decent job hiding it. He doesn’t know why it’s so important for him that they write Ae’s song and not anyone else’s. He just knows that it is.
Maybe, if he can do that for someone else - express all the pent-up devotion and longing bursting in their chest in a way that would make another understand, in a way that wouldn't push them away - then maybe he can do it for himself.
Keen is so, so tired of not being brave.
*
"P'Type! P'Type, do you have a minute?"
"Aw, N'Pond. What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to talk to you. I met someone and-"
"Thanks, nong, but you know any advice I could give about girls would be baseless, right?"
"Oi, phi! That's not it! Cha-aim and I are very happy together!"
"Calm down, I was kidding. Trying to graduate is stressful. I haven't slept or had sex in three days and Techno ditched our study session to go on a date with that creepy high school kid. But what's up?"
"Are you...okay, phi?"
"Yeah, of course. What's up?"
"Oh. Well. There's this music senior who came up to Ae and wanted to write a song about him and Ai'Pete. He agreed to meet him and his band next week but I don't know…"
"I see. Did he say what his name was?"
"He said it was Keen. Do you know about him? Can you tell me? Your boy's from the Music faculty, isn't he?"
"Shhhh, you're talking too much. Keen's a good guy."
"Is he, though? Ae's been so down since Pete left and he only just started getting better, I don't know if talking about their past would be the best thing for him right now."
"Aw, N'Pond that's so sweet."
"I've always been sweet. You're all just hanging around Ai'Ae and his dark aura too much."
"Whatever you say. I know Keen and he's not the kind to have bad intentions toward his junior. It's N'Ae's decision in the end, isn't it? Give him a bit more credit. Your friend's stronger than you think, N'Pond."
Notes:
I know this is set in actl but I see gulf as type. you can imagine either of them tho!
Chapter 3: who am I to tell fate where it's supposed to go?
Notes:
the word count for these chapters keep going up ahaha I wonder why. dialogue in bold are lifted from the show directly.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Keen wakes to Chompoo's face above his, her eyes wide and excited.
"Finally! Why does it take you forever to wake up?"
"What- what is it?"
Chompoo shakes his arm, bouncing on his bed, way too alert for this early in the morning.
"Ai'Lay's brother has a boyfriend," she whisper-shouts, still shaking Keen's arm.
"And? Why do I need to be awake at-" Keen squints at his phone, "eight am on a Saturday to know this?"
"When are you going to have a boyfriend?"
Keen blinks.
"What- why would I- ?"
"Or a girlfriend? Or someone? I don't know who you like. We had a SOGIE talk at school the other day and the nice lady said not to assume that attraction is the same for everyone."
"Nong, I- Wait. How do you know N'Lay's brother has a boyfriend?"
Chompoo was never one for gossip, so Keen doesn’t understand why she's so excited.
"I was right there, P'Keen. I saw everything," Chompoo shares giddily, "P'Can kissed P'Tin right in front of everybody in the football team! Ai'Lay was so shocked, she had no idea P'Can even liked guys. It was so funny."
"And… was N'Lay okay with it? That her brother liked… who was it, Tin?"
Chompoo pauses, sitting back on her haunches. Keen takes the time to fix his bed, folding the blanket with nervous hands.
"I think so?" Chompoo says hesitantly, "she didn't say anything bad. Mostly she was just surprised because P'Tin is so rich, and P'Can is P'Can so they don't really look like a couple."
Keen nods, looking at his little sister. He loved Chompoo as much as anyone could and he spoiled her whenever he can, but there are so many things she didn't know about him.
"Not like you and P'Tum," Chompoo continues, oblivious to his thoughts.
Keen freezes, the blanket falling from his hands. "Pause. What?"
"P'Tin and P'Can. If I wasn't there, I wouldn't have believed that they're together. But if you told me you're secretly dating P'Tum, I would find that more believable."
Chompoo takes over the blanket, refolding it and placing it at the foot of his bed. She smiles sunnily up at him, before standing up and making to leave.
"Por should be done making breakfast by now. Let's go?"
Keen holds onto Chompoo's wrist, cementing the decision in his head.
"Nong, it doesn't work like that. Your P'Tum and I are just friends."
Chompoo blinks. "Okay. It was just an example. The SOGIE lady said not to make assumptions."
"But if we were, would you be okay with that?"
Chompoo pauses thoughtfully. "Would that make you happy?"
"What?"
"I would be okay with it if it makes you happy. I don't see why it shouldn't. You're happiest when you're with P'Tum. Are you telling me you're into boys too, phi? Because I wouldn't mind that either. It doesn't really change anything. I love you the most, you know?"
Keen blinks, surprised at the tears that cling to his lashes as he does so. He nods, and Chompoo smiles, sitting back down and wrapping her arms around him.
"Thanks, Chompoo," Keen says, burying his face in her shoulder, "I love you too."
"Do you want to tell Por? I'm sure he feels the same way I do."
"No, I- I don't know. Maybe not now."
"Okay," Chompoo replies simply, pulling back to wipe the tears from his eyes.
"Nong, you know Ae has- had. He had a boyfriend too. You know that, right?"
Chompoo just smiles. "I knew, P’. It's okay."
"Really?"
She shrugs. "P'Pete is nice. He went away to study abroad, but he made P'Ae happy too. I'm not supposed to talk about him, though. That's what P'Pond says.”
“What, why? Pond’s the best friend, right?”
“Yep, he’s protective.”
Keen pulls back also, looking at his little sister that doesn’t seem so little anymore. How did he miss it? When did Chompoo grow up?
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
"When did you grow to be so wise? Where's my nong who cries when I braid her hair wrong?"
Chompoo giggles. “I’m right here, P’Keen. Always. And I can do my own hair now. You don’t have to do it for me.”
Keen tugs at her bangs, tucking them neatly behind one ear.
“I know, I still want to though.”
*
“So why did Can call?”
“Don't be so nosy.”
“Fine. Insult me as much as you want. It's all you do anyway.”
“If you're not nosy, why did you follow me all the way here?”
Tum looks at Keen exasperatedly. Keen meets his gaze and tugs cutely at his sleeve, trying to extend his patience through sheer will alone.
"Sorry for the interruption," says Ae finally, "Let's talk."
Keen brightens. "This is Ae from the Faculty of Engineering. The one that I told you about before. And this is my friend Tum, the one who wants inspiration for writing a song. That's why we're interested in your story."
"It's just you who's interested," Tum tells him, mumbling just loud enough for the freshmen to hear.
"Try talking to him first. Maybe you'll get some inspiration for multiple songs. Not just one," Keen appeals quietly, trying to ignore Pond's suspicious gaze on them.
"Keen said your story is interesting," Tum announces, turning a steady gaze on Ae.
Keen, once more, finds himself digging his nails onto the skin of his palm.
"Actually," Pond starts, "if you're not interested in my friend, you don't need to talk to him. It seems that you don't want to be here."
Ae frowns. “Stop it.”
“I'm just stating the truth.”
To Keen’s relief, it’s Tum who asks the question that puts off the friends’ impending argument. He’s starting to realize what their dynamic is.
“Then let me ask you something. How interesting do you think your story is?”
“I don't know. I just know that I'm willing to do anything to tell him I love him, and I'll always be waiting.”
“And what did he say?”
Ae’s face does something complicated. Keen holds his breath as Ae looks into Tum's eyes, his gaze so intense he subconsciously holds onto Tum's hand under the table. Tum folds his fingers around his as Ae speaks.
“Have you ever loved someone so much but there's something that makes you unable to be together?”
The answer comes without pause.
“Of course.”
Pond looks at Tum suspiciously yet again. Keen swallows the disappointment rising in his throat, pulling his hand away and forcing a smile on his face.
"See?" He says when it becomes clear that neither Tum nor Ae were going to elaborate, "I told you that Ae's story is interesting."
"Yeah," Tum agrees, finally smiling, "I think it's already worth it that we skipped practice to come here."
Tum pulls him in by the shoulder with the hand that was just in his, and Keen convinces himself that this is enough.
*
"P'Type!"
"You again. You're not even from this faculty."
"Aw, phi. Don't be so grouchy. Not everyone gets a close-up look on this handsome Italian face, you know. Count yourself lucky."
"What is it, N'Pond?"
"That Keen and his bandmate. He's in love with him, I just know it."
“Really?”
"You can not believe me if you want, but I haven’t been wrong yet.”
“No, no. I think so too. What did you see? He was with Tum, wasn't he?"
"What? How? How did you know? What do you know that I don't know?"
"Senior privileges."
"Oi, that's unfair, P'! Tell me, tell me, tell me. Or I’ll get Ai’Can to bug you."
“Fat chance, N’Can seems glued to his sugar daddy 24/7 nowadays. I’m his senior and even I don't get to see him.”
“But who is he? Tum? He’s not on socials, I checked. His profile has nothing on it, even Ae has more of an online presence. Ugh, I can’t believe I just said that.”
"How is he? N'Ae?"
"Better, I think. I still can't believe he's letting some stranger write about him and Ai'Pete but he's almost back to normal now."
"He's performing well at practices again, what about class?"
"Yeah, he doesn't skip any of them anymore. Ping, Bow and I made sure at least one of us is with him in each class. But…"
"But?"
"I don't know, it's nothing. Tell me about Tum."
"..."
"Tell me about Tum, P'! Don't just sigh!"
"Tum's an old friend of my faen, that's all. He's good people, they just didn't agree on...things."
"Hmmm, and who does he like? Because I know it's not Keen."
"...Oh would you look at the time? I have a class on the third floor right now. I'll see you around, N'Pond. Get back to your own faculty. Bye."
"P'? P'! Oh come on!"
*
"Okay, I'm recording now if that's alright?"
"Yeah, it's okay, P'Keen."
"So to start off, what would be your biggest regret about the relationship?"
Ae buckles himself into the back seat of Keen's car, pausing to think about it.
“We didn't get to celebrate an anniversary,” Ae tells him, reaching across the console to key in the location as Keen backs out of the university parking, "I had so many plans and I- I won't get to do them now. At least, not until he comes back to me."
Keen glances at Tum beside him and thinks of the years they've already spent together being just friends, and wishes it were enough. The fact that he's here is proof it isn't. He wishes it were. He didn't used to be so selfish.
"And what would you tell him, if he comes back?" Keen continues.
"When he comes back, I would tell him I love him. That I always will," Ae answers promptly.
He says it as if Keen asked if the sky was blue or if the sun rises in the east. As if there can only be one answer and everyone should know it already. In that moment, Keen understands perfectly why his sister found it so easy to let go. Nobody else could ever own Ae’s heart.
So Ae tells them about Pete on their way to wherever it is that he's supposed to go on a Saturday morning (the "payment" they agreed on so they can use Ae's story for the song).
And when he does, it's like he becomes a different person. Keen is aware that Ae is letting his walls come down, if only temporarily, and feels honored that he's let in. Ae talks about his beloved so enthusiastically and in fantastic detail Keen feels like he already knows Pete by the end of the trip.
"He was my first everything. And I do mean everything , P'Keen. There's this endless love inside of me that feels like it's about to burst at any time and I don't know what to do with it because he's not here for me to give it to."
"I miss him all the time. Everything reminds me of him. I always thought I had a pretty good life and now everything's back to the way they were before I met him and it just seems so awful."
"I'm sorry, Ae," Tum says quietly at the end of it all.
"It's okay, P'," Ae replies uncomfortably, "so would that help? With your song?"
"Yes, definitely. This is great, nong. Thank you for sharing it with us."
"Yeah, sure. No worries."
They resume the drive in silence, Keen taking in everything Ae has told them. He chances a glance at Tum and finds him already looking back, gifting Keen with a small smile when their eyes meet.
“This neighborhood’s really fancy," Keen comments, once the virtual navigation assistant tells him they're close to their destination. "Who are you going to see again?”
“Oh, it’s Par Putch. Pete’s Mae.”
Keen just stares. Tum meets his eyes once again.
“It’s Pete’s birthday tomorrow,” Ae explains, staring out the window, uncharacteristically shy, “so that’s in two days in Germany. She called and invited me to lunch, so…”
"You're going to lunch with your ex-boyfriend's Mom?" Tum asks.
Keen's eyes widen, trying to tell Tum to shut the fuck up with his eyes. Tum leans back in his seat, trying to backtrack.
"Uh, I meant- It's great that you're still so close. Yeah. Great. Keep it up."
Keen's fingers curl tightly over the steering wheel, trying to contain his embarrassment.
"Thanks, P'Tum. I think. P'Keen, you can drop me off at the next turn."
A tall, imposing woman greets Ae at the gate of a house larger than life, so large that Tum and Keen look at each other in disbelief when they drop Ae off. Ae waves away their offer to pick him up again at the end of the day, assuring them that he'll call a cab if it gets too late.
"So, what did you think?" Keen asks half an hour later, as he and Tum wait for their orders to arrive, back at their favorite noodle stall near the university.
"I think… Pete should come home. That's what I think. It's not fair. They're obviously meant to be together," Tum shares, his brows drawn together and a pout on his lips.
Keen resists the urge to smooth it out with his fingers.
"Didn't know you were such a romantic," Keen teases, poking at Tum's closed fists where it's laid over the table.
Tum smiles, opening his hand and catching Keen's fingers between his knuckles, shaking it playfully.
"We're musicians. We're supposed to be romantic."
"Okay, sir," Keen responds, rolling his eyes in an attempt to draw attention from the heat in his cheeks.
"What? You don't think so?"
"I didn't say that."
"I bet you'd be the most romantic boyfriend," Tum continues, "Sweet, smart, caring, talented, family-oriented. You're the complete package, Ai'Keen."
Keen freezes. He looks down at where Tum is still shaking his forefinger playfully, thumb rubbing over the back of Keen’s hand.
“I- What? You think I’m- ? What?” he answers eloquently.
“Oh, I think that’s us. I’m going to get our food, stay here.”
Tum stands, hand sliding painfully slowly out of Keen’s as he makes his way to the counter. Keen stares at his open palm, before bringing the same up to lightly slap his own cheeks.
Snap out of it. He doesn’t mean anything by it .
“I’m back. Damn, this looks good. I’m so hungry.”
Keen reaches out for his bowl, but Tum slides it out of his reach, breaking a pair of chopsticks and mixing the egg and noodles in with the soup, before pouring the perfect amount of chilis from the dish on the table.
"Here, eat while it's hot."
Keen awkwardly takes a sip. It tastes just how he likes it, sour and with a little more chili than an average Thai would like. He takes one more sip, and then another.
"Good?" Tum asks, grinning.
"Amazing," Keen responds, noodles spilling out of his mouth.
Tum laughs, the corner of his eyes crinkling. He pulls out a couple of tissues and dabs at the side of Keen's mouth. Keen feels his jaw drop when he does so, and Tum wipes at his bottom lip there too.
Tum meets his gaze, eyes soft. The tissue falls out of his grip until his bare thumb brushes along the line of Keen's jaw. Keen's nails dig into his palm, trying not to shiver.
“There,” Tum whispers, “all clean.”
They meet with the band later that afternoon, maxing out their free hours at the faculty studio for practice. Keen can’t help but be extra aware of the space that separates them, the few feet between the dead center of the booth marked with an X on the floor where Tum, as their lead vocal, stands, and his own position to his left.
They rehearse for a full three hours, Tum not stepping out once, not to check his phone, not to smoke, not to chat with the passing students. They spend their precious five minute breaks by each other’s side, sharing initial ideas for Ae’s song, heads bent close together as their knees almost overlap where they sit on the floor.
Tum is more animated than Keen has seen him in a long while, and it cements his belief that talking to Ae was worth it. By the end of the day, they have a full first draft.
They part ways at the parking lot where Tum left his car, and Tum lingers by the car door when Keen warms up the engine.
“Tell me what’s on your mind before it overheats,” Keen prompts, smiling so Tum knows he’s being nice.
Tum just laughs, the lines that form by his eyes softening his whole face. Keen finds himself, not for the first time, resisting the urge to kiss the hell out of him.
“Nothing, I just wanted to thank you. For arranging this, for going out of your way to help me. For being you.”
Keen doesn’t know how Tum does it. Even after three years of knowing each other, Tum still somehow manages to surprise him with his quiet intensity and stunning honesty.
“Anything for you, of course. You know that,” Keen responds, just as honestly.
Tum reacts unexpectedly, a sudden unease creeping over his face that has Keen repeating his own words to himself out of the sense that he said something wrong.
“What is it? Did I say something?”
Tum shakes his head, placing one hand on the outside door handle, the other reaching toward Keen and awkwardly patting him on the head before he closes the door for him. He brings his thumb and pinky finger up to his ear for the universal ‘call me’ sign, and Keen nods at him from the other side of the glass window.
Tum starts the walk to his own car, pausing by the hood to watch Keen pass him by, waving cutely when he does.
Keen spends the drive home with a huge smile on his face.
Notes:
idk when pete's birthday is. let's assume it's the same as saint's in april so it falls within the second semester. if anyone's still reading this, I would love to hear your thoughts! xx
Chapter 4: we got a right to just love it or leave it
Notes:
I am SO SORRY for the wait ohmygod I thought it'd be faster since I had an actual detailed outline and everything but no 😭 anyway this a whopping 4k+ word rollercoaster, I hope you enjoy :)
also, happy birthday perth!!!!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Ever since the day they dropped Ae off, Tum’s been acting weird.
Not in a bad way, except maybe the kind that’s bad for Keen’s heart. Because Tum’s been - he’s been really sweet and clingy lately.
Like last week, they were in a lecture class, right? It was in one of those theater classrooms in the new building with the swivel chairs. There was absolutely no need for Tum to hook his ankle around the leg of Keen’s chair and rest his arm on Keen’s arm rest, but he still did.
What was up with that?
Keen had to take pictures of the slides instead of taking down notes like he usually does because Tum was on his right and what if he took his arm away when Keen used it to write? Keen can’t have that.
Tum’s been doing it every time they were in that class. And every time Keen looks at him as if to ask what he’s doing, Tum just smiles.
Weird.
The other day, it was Tum’s turn again to drive them both. He picked Keen up at his house half an hour early, bringing a takeaway cup of chai tea dashed with honey and a cheese croissant for breakfast.
When Keen asked about the occasion, Tum just shrugged and unlocked the passenger-side door. He cracked the lid open and blew on the surface before handing it over to Keen, their fingers brushing.
Keen’s birthday had passed, so he honestly can’t think of why Tum would give him anything. But the croissant was soft and warm and flaky, melting in his mouth in an ooey gush of butter and cheese he couldn’t help but moan.
And then just yesterday, they finished practice early and Keen was able to go home before dinner. They had a final paper for a class, and usually Tum just texts him if he forgot anything, right? But Keen was barely out of the shower when Tum video-called him asking about the assignment. He had answered it instinctively, almost dropping his towel when he realized the camera was on.
“You’re going to have to put on some clothes if you want me to get this paper done, Keen.”
Keen hastened to do so, the way he turned his phone down on the table doing nothing to mute the sound of Tum’s laughter.
They're currently waiting for their professor when Tum brings out a tin of hand cream and takes Keen's hand in his.
Keen, too shocked to react, watches in awe as Tum swipes through the tin with two fingers and spreads it methodically over his hand.
"What are you doing?" he whispers, as Tum carefully rubs over his fingertips.
"You think I wouldn't notice you haven't been using your picks lately?" Tum counters with a raised eyebrow.
Keen smiles sheepishly. "I lost my last one a week ago, I haven't found the time to buy new ones."
Tum tsks, switching to another finger. "You need to take care of yourself more."
Tum's leaning over to reach for Keen's other hand when the professor arrives, making him sit back down again. Instead, he takes a small box out of his bag along with his notes, sliding the former over to Keen's desk.
Keen picks it up, opening it to find five multi-colored picks with his name printed on the surface.
"Did you get these made?"
Tum shrugs, his attention already focused on the front of the class.
But Keen’s concentration has been shot, his hands curiously examining the texture of the picks without his brain’s conscious permission.
Keen isn’t stupid. If it were anyone else, he would be sure Tum was flirting with him. But Tum is just generally sweet as a person - sweet enough to notice he’s been wearing his fingers out on strings and to order him customized picks, yes - and he’s been gifted with these gestures sporadically over the course of their friendship. He just hasn’t been as consistent as he is now. Keen wonders what changed, and the only thing he can think of is their impending graduation.
Keen feels himself grow cold. Oh no. Maybe that’s why. Maybe Tum figures he wasn’t a good enough friend to keep after university and this is his way of saying goodbye. Maybe he’s following Tar to France once he gets his diploma.
He glances at Tum from the corner of his eye, who is attentively listening to the lecture, then back at the picks in his hand. Will this be all that’s left of Tum once he leaves?
When class is over, Tum holds onto his wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around. Keen wills his heartbeat to calm down, one of the picks trapped between his thumb and palm where he’s digging into it.
“Keen, I’m not going to lunch. I think I’m almost done with N’Ae’s song and I really want to finish ahead of the festival so he can listen to it first. Go ahead without me, okay?”
Keen nods wordlessly, the resulting grin on Tum’s face somehow less charming than usual.
“I’ll see you later,” Tum continues, letting go of his hand and walking away.
The pick snaps cleanly in Keen’s grip as the door closes behind Tum.
*
Solo is lugging around a DLSR camera and its huge, detachable lens when Keen arrives at the cafeteria with his groupmates.
“What are you doing?” Keen asks curiously.
“I’ve been tasked to take enough pictures of everyone for the video presentation at the graduation party. Smile, Ai’Keen!”
Keen obliges, gathering his friends close and rolling his eyes at Solo’s enthusiastic thumbs up after the flash nearly blinds them. He scrolls through his phone, looking for pictures of Tum. There’s not a lot, surprisingly, and they’re mostly goofy stolen photos of when he falls asleep in weird places or recordings they have to make for class. Keen frowns. How did he not have proper photos of Tum?
He needs more. If Tum’s going to leave him with mere picks and memories, he’s going to make sure they’re at least captured in HD.
Determined to follow Solo’s lead, Keen abandons the thought of lunch and starts walking to the campus gate. He’s got some time to buy Tum’s favorite sandwich before joining him at the studio.
As if his day wasn’t bad enough already, he runs into Ai’Type on the way there.
“Aow, ‘wadee Keen. Where are you off to in such a hurry?”
“Oh, it’s you. I’m going to the store, I’m getting some food for Tum.”
“Cute.”
“What?”
“What? Nothing. Listen, I’m glad I ran into you. You know how my family owns a resort, right?”
Keen knows. He and Type have been texting semi-regularly since they met again because of Chompoo. Type honestly seems like a good guy, Keen just doesn’t need extra drama today. And he’s always annoying him about that open invite for a double date with his boyfriend.
“Hello? You’re spacing out on me, bud.”
Keen blinks. “Right, yeah. I remember. What about it?”
“I’m hosting a sem-ender party there with everyone after exams, so mostly the sport science majors and the football team. Tharn’s bringing his band and code family too. Would you and Tum come? You can invite anyone, but bring some drinks to share.”
Keen clicks his tongue. “Sure, I’ll let him know.”
“It’ll give them a chance to talk without too much pressure. Don’t you think so?”
“I said yes already, Thiwat. I love a good beach."
“Sweet,” Type grins, towering over him and laying a hand on his shoulder, “I’ll send you the details, let me know if you need a ride.”
*
Years down the road, the sight that greets Keen when he enters the studio would be the most vivid thing he remembers from his time at university. Not the vast emptiness of the auditorium or his professors’ piercing eyes when he does a practical, nor the deathly quiet during a big examination. It won’t be dusk settling over the quad and the crowd of excited students as they go home for the day, nor the excited chatter and glittering lights of the annual university fair.
No, it would be this: Tum, frustrated but determined, surrounded by torn up notes and lyrics and cradling his guitar like a beloved child.
It would be this: the man he loves doing the things he loves the most.
He hands over the sandwich he bought, hoping it’ll tide him over until dinner. Maybe he should make him skip the last class and eat earlier...
“Here, have some. You'll get hungry later. Are you okay? It'll come to you soon. Eat this first, and then you can continue working. You can do it!”
Tum looks up at him, smiling gratefully. “Thanks.”
“Where are you up to now?”
“Nowhere,” he answers, frustration lacing his tone.
Keen reaches out to quickly pat him on the back, “You got it? Let me see. See? You can do it if you try.”
Keen leans back as Tum scribbles something else on his notebook, trying surreptitiously to take a picture of him. He snaps a bunch, smiling sadly down at his phone. He should’ve taken more.
Tum pauses writing for a while, strumming a few chords. Keen sights the notes Tum wrote down and hums along.
“How is it? I think this part is okay, ‘no matter where you are…’ ”
“Like this?”
“Yeah, this part is good.”
Keen stretches more, trying to read the lyrics written down in Tum’s messy penmanship when Tum hugs him.
Keen feels his eyes widen in shock. “Why are you hugging me?”
The smile on Tum’s face is so beautiful Keen’s hand itches to take a picture. He never wants to forget this.
“Keen. Look! I've finished writing this song. Look! I've never felt this confident before. Do you like it? Hurry! Tell me, do you like it?”
“Of course,” Keen answers softly, staring at Tum. The face of his first love is lit up with so much joy and accomplishment Keen’s heart aches with the familiar need and longing to just. Kiss it all over.
“Right? I like it too. I've never felt this good about a song before.”
“You're going to show N’Ae?”
“I should, right? I’ll do it on Monday. Do you think he’ll like it?”
“I’m sure he would, Tum.”
Tum looks at him over the case of his guitar, “This is all him, you know.”
“Hmm? I know.”
Tum finishes packing the guitar back into the case and walks closer to Keen, closer than he’s ever been in the time they've known each other. Keen swallows, suddenly too hot, unable to walk away as Tum gets his face close to his.
“The song. It’s all him and N’Pete, none of it is me.”
“Don’t say that, Tum. You just told me you’ve never felt this good about a song before-”
“I meant the story, the feelings. It’s not...what I feel.”
“Okay?”
Tum clicks his tongue and runs a hand over his hair in frustration. "I'm not explaining it well, I'm sorry."
"Why are you sorry? What's wrong?" Keen asks, his concern for Tum eclipsing every other emotion in his chest, "What is it?"
Tum holds onto Keen's hand, the one he didn't even realize he held up, and places it against his cheek, exhaling roughly. He steps closer until there's barely a breath between them, a glint of determination in his eyes that makes Keen feel unnerved but in a good way.
"Keen, I - I just mean that, unlike Ae, I don't really have anyone that I miss. It's kind of hard to miss someone you spend time with everyday, right?"
It's like that first time Tum hugged him, Keen's world slowing down until it stops, narrowing into nothing but Tum's eyes on him, the feel of his warm skin underneath his palm. And Keen's own heart, beating so fast as if trying to escape from his chest.
If he didn't hear them come out of Tum's own mouth, Keen would be convinced he's making all this up in his head again.
"I never want to write a song about missing you, Keen."
Then his hand is on Keen's cheek, like Keen's is on his, mirroring each other. Tum's fingers are shaking but he doesn't move them away, thumb gently curving under Keen's cheekbone as he asks, "May I?"
Keen nods wordlessly, still half convinced this isn't real until Tum's lips are on his own, clumsy but eager. Keen hears himself let out a soft noise, sliding his hand down and back until it's on Tum’s neck and he can pull him down to taste him deeper, his whole body suddenly moving to get as close to Tum as possible.
Tum responds in kind, his arm snaking around Keen’s waist as he bodily pulls him closer.
Keen feels like he's on fire, like the years of yearning for the impossible suddenly made real is demanding its price by burning him from the inside out. Tum's lips moving against his own is a dream, soft and sweet and satisfying as kisses tend to be, made spectacular only by virtue of the fact that it's Tum kissing him.
It feels like centuries has passed before Keen pulls away to take a breath. Tum keeps his eyes closed, as if he can't believe it either, and Keen feels dizzy as the familiar thought zings manically around in his brain: he really loves him, he really, really loves Tum.
Keen stares, still dazed, at the bright red color the tips of Tum's ears had turned.
His eyes flutter open, and Keen's heart leaps to this throat suddenly at what he finds in them.
Oh.
How could he not have seen it?
How did he not notice?
"Keen…"
He's been watching Tum for years. For so long, he'd told himself not to expect Tum to look at him the same way. When he finally did, Keen failed to see it. He feels like such an idiot.
"Keen. Can you stop overthinking and look at me, please?"
His eyes snap up, and Tum’s fingers on his cheek feel so right, like they’ve always belonged there. Keen never wants to be let go of ever again.
"Keen, can we do that again?"
Keen leans forward silently, and they do it again.
*
Nothing changes.
Everything changes.
They don’t talk about it but Keen’s 99% sure they’re dating now. Tum picks him up before class everyday, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek as he slides into the passenger seat, breakfast waiting for him.
He casually holds his hand when they walk and gets all up in his space whenever he can (whenever Keen lets him, which is all the time). Tum asks him about the record labels and production houses he’s applying for, “ so I know which ones to go for, duh.” As if it was a given that they were going to start the rest of their lives together, as if there was no other way for it to happen but together.
But they aren’t.
Together, that is. It’s kind of Keen’s whole problem.
They have kissed seventeen times since that day at the studio. The number of times they've talked about it? Exactly zero.
He doesn’t want to talk about it, because Tum doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. Keen’s self-aware enough to know what he’s scared of - that maybe if he brings it up, Tum would deny the whole thing and his perfect bubble would burst despite Tum’s actions saying the complete opposite.
Still. He can’t be sure.
So Keen keeps quiet and lets himself enjoy the warmth of Tum’s hand in his, wondering when he would have to let go.
*
"P'Keen…"
"Yeah?" Keen looks up from his spare guitar to Ae's frowning face (his default expression, Keen is starting to learn. He gets why he and Type are so close now).
"Are you and P’Tum together now?"
"What?" Keen asks, his fingers dropping from where he’s trying to correct Ae's hold on the strings.
“He’s been staring at me like I claimed credit for a team play he came up with for a while now. Look at him,” Ae explains, his gaze swinging to the far side of the field.
Keen follows, seeing Tum walking towards them with a bag of snacks in one hand. He raises his hand in a clipped wave upon seeing Keen. Keen cheerfully waves back.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” he tells Ae patiently, “but he’s literally just walking.”
Ae sighs, packing his guitar back into its case. “I’ll see you later, P’Keen. Thanks for the lesson."
"Wait, nong-" Keen calls out, at the same time that Tum reaches them and says a curt "Bye, Ae."
Ae simply nods and walks away.
"What were you doing?" Tum asks, sitting where Ae used to but closer.
He takes out a snack and opens it for Keen, slapping his hand away when he tries to take it. Keen is confused for all of two seconds before Tum brings his hand up to his mouth and feeds it to him.
“I met Type the other day,” Keen mumbles around his full mouth, “he’s inviting us to the beach.”
“Type Thiwat?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t know you talked.”
"We've been texting regularly- Well, not regularly, more like keeping in touch. Kind of. I ran into him when I was getting you food last week."
“What do you even talk about?”
"About nothing. Small talk. Senior stuff. He's on the football team with N'Ae, you know."
"Oh. Is he...nice? Are you close?”
“Not really? I guess he’s nice, I don’t know.”
Tum seems so down suddenly, shoulders hunched in. Keen worriedly lays a hand on his arm. “Are you okay? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“Do you want to go?”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” Keen responds wistfully, “I haven’t been to the beach in a while.”
Tum pauses, drumming his fingers on the surface of his guitar. He stares at Keen for a while before nodding. “Okay, let’s go and tell the others. Solo can cover our drinks contribution, rich bastard.”
Keen smirks, “I’ll let him know.”
*
“Everyone. This song is inspired by a junior who loves unconditionally. He would say ‘I love you’ to the same person everyday, even if they are not together. I hope to write this song to pass the love to everyone. I want to give this song to everyone who is currently in love.”
The crowd is huge and loud, and Keen can see N’Ae recording on his phone from the back. Tum’s voice is clear and lovely in his ears, but Keen can’t tell what he looks like.
He can’t look, he can’t.
He doesn’t want to see if it’s someone else Tum is thinking of when he talks about love.
*
“P'Tum!”
The bubble bursts. Keen knew it was coming, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.
The guitar he’s wrapping back into its case suddenly feels so light compared to the heavy weight in his heart.
“Oh, Tar. When did you come back? Mom didn't say anything.”
“I told Mom not to tell you. I wanted to surprise you. And I also see that you had a performance today!”
“I'm very surprised.”
“I know.”
Keen moves farther away before he can hear any more. The amplifiers aren’t gonna store themselves, and the broken pieces of his heart aren’t going to pick themselves off the floor.
It sucks, to have everything he wanted given to him only to have it taken away.
No, that’s a lie. It doesn’t just suck. There’s no word to describe the pain of it, the unfairness, the amount of fortitude it takes to smile and keep a bright look on his face when Tum inevitably walks over to introduce them to N’Tar.
He’s as lovely as Tum told him - sweet and polite and asking all kinds of genuine questions about how they prepared for the show.
Tum has a hand on his shoulder, but stands away - the perfect older brother.
I don't really have anyone that I miss. It's kind of hard to miss someone you spend time with everyday, right?
It’s like a record scratch in Keen’s brain.
Brothers.
Tum and Tar are brothers.
He tries to meet Tum’s eyes as Tar regales the band with stories of France. But Tum’s gaze is far away, eyebrows furrowed as if in deep thought. It’s Tar who catches him looking, giving him a small smile that Keen finds himself unable to decipher.
Keen takes his leave. Too early, he knows, especially as Tar has invited everyone to go out and volunteered himself to pay for the first round of drinks.
He almost expects Tum to offer to drive him home. They both took cars today, the outdoor equipment too bulky to transport in just one. It seemed practical that morning, but Keen mostly just regrets it now.
Tum and the distracted look in his eyes walk him to the parking lot, taking the key fob out of Keen’s pocket like it was nothing. He presses the button to unlock the car, opening the passenger side door and waiting for Keen to get in.
“Tum, this is my car.”
Tum startles then, his gaze clearing. He closes the door again with a sharp click.
“Oh, right, so you’re driving,” he says, hurrying over to the other side to open the correct door.
Keen just stares at him. Tum rests his crossed arms over the door, waiting.
Keen wants to ask. He so badly wants to ask. The confusion swimming in his head has been there for weeks now. As lovely as the kisses and the closeness and the snacks have been… he wants more. He's always wanted more.
"Tum, what are we doing?"
Five words.
Five words that would pass the ball to Tum's court and loosen the tight knot of foreboding and uncertainty that manifests itself each time Keen even thinks about him.
They feel like the longest five words in the world.
Tum's arms drop.
He goes around the door, taking each of Keen's hands in his.
"I've never done this before," he admits, staring not at Keen's face but their joined hands, "so I'm sorry if I'm bad at it."
Embarrassingly, Keen can feel his hands start to tremble. He wishes he can press his nails into his palm, but Tum is holding him too tightly for that.
He leans in, nudging Tum's cheek with his nose and urging him to look up.
"I just want to know if I'm reading this right," Keen says, feeling like he's laying down his soul for Tum's taking, "I would really hate it if I'm not because-"
"I'm in love with you," Tum blurts out.
Keen's hands quit trembling.
In fact, it seems as if his whole body has frozen, stuck in that specific moment where Tum said-
"Did you just say that you're- ?"
Tum drops his forehead onto Keen's shoulder, nodding repeatedly. Keen lets his left hand out of Tum's hold to gently pat the back of Tum's head.
"I think I've been in love with you since the start of the year. But I knew it for sure when you told me about N'Ae."
Keen laughs, the whole situation suddenly so hilarious to him.
Tum lifts his head, his voice suspiciously low.
"What is it? Why are you laughing?"
"I'm not laughing at you, Tum," Keen reassures him, holding his face in his hand like the first time, "I just thought it was funny because N'Ae told me yesterday he thought we were already together and that you were glaring at him because you were jealous."
"I was," Tum mumbles.
Keen's heart skips a bit at the admission, but he continues. "And here you are saying you realized you loved me because of him."
"Don't give him too much credit," Tum insists, tilting his head deeper into Keen's hold, "I'm still the one in love with you."
"I love you too," Keen says.
It doesn't hurt anymore.
"Would it be okay if I ask you to be my boyfriend?"
Keen doesn't even answer, just leans forward to press their lips together.
It's better than a dream, soft and sweet and satisfying as kisses tend to be, especially now that it's Tum, his boyfriend, kissing him .
"Is that a yes?" Tum asks, eyes fluttering open.
"That's a yes. Let's be boyfriends, Tum," Keen requests in response, playfully pressing tiny, airy kisses to Tum's jaw, his cheeks, under his ears and on his nose and eyelids and forehead until Tum's laughing, the sound of it warming Keen from the inside out.
"Okay, let's do it," Tum answers, wrapping his arms around Keen and lifting him up, spinning once.
Keen shrieks, more in surprise than actual fear.
Tum doesn't let him go when he puts him down, just wraps his arms around him tighter and kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.
There's no uncertainty now, no underlying sense of foreboding. There's no desperation in the way that he holds onto Tum, scared that he might be ripped away at any moment.
It's just this: him and his best friend, the truth of their feelings exposed and accepted between them, everything that was unspoken released into a burst of shared joy and happiness that settles over them both like the the most comforting blanket.
It's just this: Tum and Keen loving and being loved by each other in return.
Tum kisses him and kisses him and kisses him, and Keen holds him tight, knowing he doesn't have to let go.
Notes:
one more chapter after this then we're done, I should be able to post it before next weekend. I would love love love some comments if you're inclined :)
Chapter 5: brighter than the sun
Notes:
I know I said I'll update within the week but apparently I'm a lying liar who lies. anyway here's the fifth and final chapter! writing this fic has been such a ride. I can't believe the first time I finish a multi-chapter fic is for a couple who barely got any screen time. they're not even on my top five or anything, but I just know that they have a story that deserved to be told so here we are! I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing. it was super frustrating at times, but I'm really proud of it <3 this ending was the one I had in my head when I started writing, I hope I did it justice.
okay enough from me, please enjoy!
Chapter Text
Keen has been dreaming of his graduation showcase for months now. He’s loved his time at university, despite the earlier setbacks. But senior year killed him and honestly, right now, he just wants to leave.
The Faculty of Music auditorium is still as large and intimidating as it was the first time. Not even the knowledge that this would be his last time performing here as a student can calm the anxiety that rises in him at the way his professors look so… small and formal on that long table, their eyes like glowing pinpricks of judgment ready to tear him apart. The dark, soundproof walls feel like they’re caging him in, but the hoots of encouragement from his friends in the audience are a huge help.
He takes his seat by the piano, immediately seeing his family. Chompoo and his father are seated at the front row, two bouquets of flowers between them.
They're twin dozen sunflowers - their university's traditional graduation present - that he knows are for him and Tum. It wasn't like he was expecting a huge, violent reaction out of his father when he told him about them being a couple. But Keen didn't anticipate this either, not the way he welcomed Tum so warmly, the unconditional outpour not just of support but pride that his Por bestowed on him, on them both. Chompoo was right, after all. It makes him want to go down right now and hug the two of them.
But the show must go on.
Keen flexes his fingers, aware of his time. He’s got maybe ten seconds left if he wants to find Tum in the audience, but he doesn't need it. A quick look forward and Tum is there, standing in the half-shadow of the stage wings, dark eyes and a soft smile trained on him. He sends Keen a thumbs up before turning his hand, curling all but his index and middle fingers down and waving them at him. Fighting!
Keen grins, and starts to play.
The keys are cold but yielding beneath his fingertips, obediently producing measure after measure of his chosen song as perfectly as they did in practice. Keen lets himself get lost in the music. The gazes of his peers, friends, family, and mentors melt away until there's nothing but him and his piano and the magic they're creating together filling the air.
He's allowed to take a break before his second and last song. When he looks up again, Tum is still there, a fond, admiring look on his face that makes Keen feel warm all over.
'I love you,' he mouths.
Keen mouths it back and smiles.
When it's over, he goes to join the audience, accepting whispered praises from his classmates along the rows of seats. His father and sister envelop him in a hug, presenting him with the bouquet and pressing kisses to his cheeks. He hugs the sunflowers close to his chest, leaning towards his father as Chompoo snaps a picture.
They watch several more performances before it's Tum's turn.
“Hi, everyone. Earlier this week, my little brother told me he wanted me to be happy. He told me that we should both continue to step forward. Music has always made me happy, and I’m so glad that I was able to spend the past four years studying and sharing it with everyone. And not just everyone here, but one person in particular.”
Keen feels his eyes widen as Tum shyly waves at him from the stage, Chompoo’s muffled giggles and their classmates’ teasing cheers filling the room.
He starts strumming a familiar chord, and suddenly he’s back in that bar, watching the spotlight shine brightly on the love of his life as City starts to play.
“Ai’Keen, this song and every one that comes after it is for you. I hope you like it.”
Tar, seated two rows down with his parents, turns around to wink at him.
Keen feels himself blush, especially as a louder round of jeers echo in the auditorium.
Tum starts to play, and Keen lets the familiar melody wrap around him, as warm and as comforting as his boyfriend's arms.
They’ve come a long way since he first heard Tum play the song. Keen thinks if he can talk to his freshman self now, he would find it difficult to explain just how much Tum has come to mean to him. And how much they’ve both grown in the time they were together as friends and now, as boyfriends.
He can’t wait to see what the future has in store. Everything still feels so overwhelming. Leaving the comfort of university and the beginning of the rest of his life isn’t going to wait for him to be ready, but he’s absolutely grateful to know that Tum would be there with him at each step of the way.
Later that evening, once both their families had had their fill of the celebratory dinner Tar had prepared (with Chompoo's assistance), Tum would take him up to his room and play the song again. Not on his guitar but on his phone, freeing his hands to wrap around Keen where they belong, singing along softly as they sway in small circles.
Keen draws him closer, hooking his chin over Tum's shoulder so he doesn't have to see his face when he finally reveals his secret.
“Did you know I fell in love with you when you played this song?”
"Hmm? When did you even hear me play?"
"At the bar by the south gate, freshman year," Keen replies, hiding his face in Tum's neck, "We didn't even know each other then but I felt… I had to get to know you. Like we were meant to be in each other's lives."
"Thank you, for reaching out. It must've been difficult sticking with me that first year," Tum whispers back, his hand sliding up to tenderly cup the back of Keen's neck.
Keen shakes his head, "Not if it's with you."
Tum looks at him incredulously before huffing out something that sounds like a laugh. He pulls him closer, pressing a kiss to corner of his mouth.
"You're the best thing to ever happen to me," he whispers against his lips, "You know that, right?"
"I know. Same here," Keen replies, kissing Tum properly as the song plays on and on and on.
*
"Ai'Keen and I are practically best friends now," is what Type answers when Tharn asks him how they met.
The four of them are sitting across two towels, nearer to the beach and a little ways apart from the other people currently drinking and dancing at Type’s party.
"Tum's still my best friend," Keen responds, wondering why he's saying it even as he does, knowing that Type was just joking.
"Best friend and boyfriend," Tum clarifies, taking Keen's hand and pressing kisses to his knuckles before Keen can dig his nails into his palm.
"Oh," Tharn says, "so this is a double date."
"N'Pond was right, I knew it," Type crows, laughing gleefully.
"What?"
"What?"
“N’Pond as in N’Ae’s protective best friend?” Keen asks.
“Yeah, he’s way too interested in other people’s love lives. And N’Ae’s tragically single now, so."
"Is that why you're teaching him how to play guitar?” Tharn asks, directing his question at Keen.
Keen unconsciously backs away, still unsure what to make of his batchmate despite Type’s repeated assurances. It’s weird. It’s Tharn that he’s known longer, the two of them forced to circle each other these past four years by virtue of their similar degree programs. Yet Keen still feels more at ease with Type, whose brash nature would normally turn Keen off. Not that he would ever let Type know.
“Yeah,” Keen forces himself to answer, “I mean, no, I don’t think that’s the reason why. But he wants to learn. I thought it was the least I could do after he told us about his story.”
“He’s a good kid,” Type says, fond, “and he learns fast. He’ll be good at it in no time.”
“Definitely,” Keen agrees, internally grateful for Type’s sudden EQ burst.
"Anyway, Tum. I saw N’Tar at the concert. You didn’t bring him?” Type asks.
“As if I’d bring Tar anywhere near your boyfriend,” Tum replies casually, gulping down a can of beer. Keen places a hand on his arm in warning, and he immediately puts it down.
"Right," Type says, suddenly serious, "That's our cue, I think, Keen."
Tum throws him a questioning glance. It might look sharp, even reproachful, to an onlooker. But Keen has spent the past few years learning everything there is to know about Tum, and there's only curiosity in his eyes now.
He can feel Type's stare on him as he converses with Tum in low voices.
"Tharn wants to talk to you alone. To explain what really happened between him and Tar. I think it would be good if you can listen to him."
“I don’t trust him,” Tum replies. Keen opens his mouth to speak, but Tum continues before he can get a word out. “But I trust you, so I’ll hear him out.”
Keen smiles, both in relief and pride, that Tum puts this much trust in him, that he believes in the unchanging truth that Keen would only ever have his best interests at heart.
Tum groans and palms Keen’s face, covering his mouth and cheeks. “I said yes, already. Stop being cute!”
“I’m not doing anything,” Keen protests, his words muffled behind Tum’s hand.
“Alright, let’s go,” Type booms out, standing to brush sand off his shorts and pulling Keen up with him.
Tum refuses to let go of his hand until the last possible second, their fingers glancing over each other as Type drags him away. Tum doesn’t pout but it’s a near thing, his bottom lip pushed out ever so slightly as he watches Keen leave.
“He’ll be fine,” Type says, mixing him a drink from behind the bar, “they both will. They’re grown ass men.”
“I know that,” Keen replies listlessly, both elbows propped up on the bar, chin in his hands. “They were friends before, they can be again, right?”
“Exactly,” Type agrees, pushing two glasses over to him as he jumps over the bar to sit beside him.
“Showoff,” Keen mumbles, hiding behind his drink.
“Best friends don’t talk behind each other’s back like that,” Type tsks.
“That’s why I’m saying it to your face,” Keen replies, laughing at Type’s resulting frown.
Keen continues drinking in blessed silence, until-
“So you agree? We’re best friends now?”
Keen rolls his eyes. This again.
“Sure, whatever.”
Type grins, clinking their glasses together before downing his own in one long swallow. Keen watches him, unamused, and deliberately drinks slower.
“I’m happy for you guys, really,” Type suddenly says. "You deserve each other."
"Thank you," Keen replies, equal parts shocked and touched.
"I mean it, Keen. You deserve to be happy. Both of you. Take care of each other."
Keen smirks. "So wise, Thiwat."
"I do have my moments, yes."
Keen knocks back his drink, reaching over to wrap an arm around Type's broad shoulders. "Thanks, bro."
Type embraces him back, patting him on the shoulder light enough that Keen only winces once.
"I'm gonna pour us two more shots. One for you and Tum for getting your shit together, and another to us for graduating."
"Sounds good, especially since I don't have to pay."
Type gestures as if he wants to pour the bottle of vodka over Keen's head. Keen just laughs, knowing he wouldn't want to waste it.
"I'm going to check on the freshies," Type informs him once they're done, "do you want to come with?"
Keen looks toward the shore, where the freshmen from the football team are having an impromptu scrimmage, sand flying everywhere. He winces, thinking of the more comfortable seat by the piano he spotted at the resort entrance across the yawning receptionist.
"You go ahead."
"You sure? You're not just going to go back and see if Tharn and Tum have already killed each other?"
Keen shakes his head. "You said to trust them. I do. We're not kids anymore."
Type grins, relief turning the corners of his lips up. "Alright. Speak for yourself."
Then he goes running towards the kids with his arms out, dragging at least three of them into the ocean as he sprints, welcomed by raucous cheers and laughter.
Keen watches them for a while, indescribably happy and at peace. It was a good decision to come here.
He eventually turns and walks into the more calming hum of the quiet lobby. He finds the piano, sits down and checks the tune by playing a few notes.
He's halfway into playing a composition he and Tum worked on sophomore year when the sound of the receptionist greeting a guest makes him pause.
He looks up to find a man standing at the entrance with a couple of suitcases. He looks… Keen doesn't want to say out of place, but what he's wearing seems too formal, and too warm for a seaside resort. A deep brown scarf tucked neatly over a cream sweater and dark, pressed dress pants doesn't exactly scream bonfire at the beach. The baseball cap doesn't help. He looks like a Korean idol avoiding paparazzi at the airport.
Keen's fingers pauses over the keys. There's something familiar about the man, and the sort of lost, helpless way he's looking around makes Keen want to offer his help.
"Are you looking for Type?"
The man looks at him, surprise and hesitance tensing his shoulders.
"P'Type? Oh, yes! So I am at the right place. This is it, right? His family's resort? Can gave me the address, but I wasn't sure."
Keen shakes his head, wracking his brain on why exactly the other man seems so familiar, despite never having seen him before in his life.
"Yeah, this is it. Are you with the team? They're playing by the beach. I can take you to them once you've settled down your stuff."
The man tenses when Keen mentions the football team, and a thought forms - too slowly - at the back of Keen's mind. He folds his hands together in respect when Keen is done talking. "That would be wonderful, thank you. I had a pretty long flight."
He ducks down and takes the cap by the brim to lift it off, revealing the most beautiful face on a man Keen has ever seen.
Oh.
That's why he's familiar.
"N'Pete?" Keen asks, feeling his jaw drop in shock.
"I- yes. That's me. Do we know each other?"
Keen stares wordlessly, long enough for another freshie - Tin , the name comes to him in Chompoo's voice - to walk into the lobby and share in Keen's shock.
"Pete? Is that you?"
"Tin! Tin, it's me, I'm back. Where is he?"
Keen watches Tin ignore Pete's words, drawing the newcomer into a hug that neither seems to know how to do. Tin's arms wrap around Pete’s shoulders awkwardly, one of Pete’s hands coming up to tap Tin's back as if he's not quite sure how his hands work.
"Oh," Pete squeaks, "we hug now."
Tin pulls away, clearing his throat and blushing uncharacteristically.
"I believe that's the traditional way to greet a friend who's been away for a long time, isn't it?"
Pete smiles. "I missed you too."
These freshmen are so weird, the whole lot of them, Keen thinks.
“He’s with Cantaloupe,” Tin finally says, once the two of them are done staring at each other, “Come on, I’ll take you.”
Pete turns back to look at him, inclining his head in a nod before excitedly turning back to the beach, Tin’s hand on his back. Keen smiles, following them leisurely.
Tum and Tharn are together when he reaches them again, guitars in hand as they try to teach Can and Ae how to play. Can’s voice whining about how hard it is reaches him before he even sees them.
It grows louder once they catch sight of Tin and Pete.
“Ai’Pete! Ai’Pete, you made it! I’m so happy you didn’t get lost, I thought-”
Ae stands up and pushes past Can, cutting him off abruptly, walking silently but with determined strides to where Pete is standing. Tin steps away so he can draw his boyfriend against his side, whispering in his ear as Can complains about being dragged away and how he hasn’t even said hello to Pete properly yet.
Tum, who has also broken away from the group, wraps an arm around his waist.
Keen wants to ask him about what he and Tharn talked about, but he speaks before Keen can.
"Do you think N'Pete heard the song?"
Keen turns to watch them again, both of Tum's arms moving to embrace him from behind. He holds onto Tum's hands over his stomach, enjoying the pleasantly cool breeze from the sea as it blows across his face, contrasting with the familiar warmth of his boyfriend against his back.
We'll talk about it later , Tum says without words, and Keen understands.
"Probably," he answers, humming.
Ae and Pete are two distant figures on the shore. Tin, Can, Tharn, Type and the rest of the football team who knows them are trying (unsuccessfully) to watch them discreetly, the buzz of conversation growing low and distracted.
Ae loosens Pete’s scarf but doesn't take it off completely. His hand comes up to tenderly run through Pete’s hair before sliding down to cup his cheek.
Pete seems to be murmuring non-stop, too low for anyone to hear. (Although Keen can see Ae's best friend, Pond, give it his best shot). Ae shakes his head, once, twice, before he uses his other hand to place a finger against his mouth to shush him.
Pete's hands are hanging awkwardly at his side, and Keen can see how painfully he aches to touch Ae, unsure if he's still allowed. He feels his fingers tighten over Tum's hands in response.
His wonderful, wonderful boyfriend must've sensed how he feels, pressing himself impossibly closer to Keen and dropping his chin on his shoulder.
"They'll be okay," Tum whispers into his ear, pressing his nose against Keen's neck and inhaling deeply.
Keen feels himself blush. Whether it's from Tum's affection or the fact that Ae and Pete are now finally, literally making out on the beach to the cheers of Type's entire party, he doesn't know.
"Oh, they're kissing now," Tum comments, laughter hidden in the rumble of his voice, "we're not gonna let our juniors show us up, are we?"
"Not here," Keen hisses, too aware of the crowd.
“Keen, you have to live a little,” Tum whines, shaking him by the waist.
Keen turns around, watching the sunset turn Tum’s eyes golden. He’s so beautiful Keen can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. The cheers around them are infectious, roaring louder than the waves crashing at the shore. Keen has never been more aware of his youth as his friends celebrate all around him, the love of his life warm and real and perfect in his arms, their future stretching out with possibilities as vast as the ocean in front of them.
When their lips meet again, it feels like coming home.
I never even dreamed
That I’d meet you in the middle of the millions of people in the city
I once was another person in this city of loneliness
It’s like my room has changed colors
It’s prettier than I’ve ever seen anywhere
This city isn’t lonely anymore
Just having you today
Crispy_Ronaldo7 on Chapter 1 Sun 13 Dec 2020 11:29PM UTC
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inordineight on Chapter 1 Mon 14 Dec 2020 02:36AM UTC
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inordineight on Chapter 3 Mon 11 Jan 2021 10:00AM UTC
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Amaranthines on Chapter 3 Tue 12 Jan 2021 01:32AM UTC
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Amaranthines on Chapter 3 Wed 13 Jan 2021 02:38AM UTC
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Untamed_Darkness on Chapter 4 Mon 17 Jan 2022 01:37PM UTC
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Untamed_Darkness on Chapter 5 Sat 23 Oct 2021 03:31PM UTC
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daisyispunk on Chapter 5 Sat 02 Mar 2024 03:36AM UTC
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