“Look,” Korn says as Pat takes a swig of beer at their impromptu graduation party, “Your rival is here.”
A spit take is a near miss, but Pat still spills his beer down the front of his shirt. As friends laugh or throw paper towels at him, Pat glances at Pran out of the corner of his eye. The expression is as cold and distant as ever and yet…
Before anyone notices, Pran slips away in the direction of where Pat was told the bathrooms reside.
“Ugh…” Pat groans with genuine disgust as he picks at his damp shirt. “I’m going to go try to clean this some more. My parents will be pissed if I come home smelling of beer.” Pat nudges Korn with his elbow. “And don’t worry about Pran. That’s over now, you know that.” Korn rolls his eyes but says nothing more as Pat walks as casually as he pleases to the bathroom.
There is a moment of hesitation as Pat reaches for the door knob, but all thought is lost as the door is pulled open and Pat is pulled inside.
Hunger, relief, and pain, all in equal measure flood Pat’s body as Pran pushes him back against the door, kissing him senseless. The click of the lock is secondary as Pat’s hands immediately pull at Pran’s shirt buttons.
“Shit, don’t you dare pop one,” Pran murmurs into Pat’s throat as he nips. “I don’t want a repeat of five months ago.”
“Like hell,” Pat moans as he feels Pran’s hands wander under the waistband of his jeans. “I still owe you for what happened three months ago.”
Pran pulls away to smirk. “Did your little blind date get upset?”
Pat smiles with his usual amount of cheek. “Nope. I left my shirt unbuttoned. She didn’t notice a thing because she was too distracted by my chest. But don’t worry, I turned her down at the end of the night.”
Pran rolls his eyes and pops open the button of Pat’s jeans. “You’re an asshole and a tease.”
Pat’s hands finally finish pulling open Pran’s shirt only to grab at his waist and swap their positions. His lips hover over Pran’s to murmur, “Only for you,” before delving back for a taste of what he refuses to forget.
After the halcyon days of their “honeymoon,” after the price of two broken hearts was paid to let a sad man and a wronged woman keep their broken pride, Pat and Pran had broken up. There was, for them at that time, no other way out. Dependency on their parents, love for their parents, their love for each other, these things could not be reconciled with a job at a bar in a lovely village, one night of passionate sex, and a love song.
But oh, how the two of them wished it could be so simple.
Yet in the span of time it took for Pran’s mother to install new windows which could not be opened without a special keyfob and Pat’s father to install security cameras with a live feed to his phone, Pran had already found a blind spot in the security camera array and Pat had found no less that five websites detailing security flaws in the newly installed windows.
It was enough to say that both boys found ways out of their homes one night, and in the clandestine dark of the alley behind their houses, they attempted to devour each other once more. But that was the last of it, they assured themselves. There could be no more back alley meetings, not even to cup cheeks and inhale a fraction of a breath that might carry a beloved scent. Least of all, not so close to home where anyone might find them and where whispers could fall on angry ears.
So they kept to themselves, distant and apart.
Until one day, during their third year, an opportunity fell into Pat’s lap.
The library was neutral territory, although Pat hardly ever used it himself, and so it was not unreasonable to find either Pat or Pran there. It was, however, a rare occurrence that both would somehow be within its walls at the same time. Much less the same bathroom.
So it was with complete surprise that as Pat stood up after attempting to hide in the bathroom to collect his thoughts after his friends had attempted to hook him up with a multitude of other Engineering students of either gender, that he would fall back onto the toilet seat with Pran shoving his way in and falling onto Pat’s lap.
While gripping Pran’s waist, Pat’s lips were already moving up to meet Pran’s downward moving lips. And thus the two realized at the same time the problem with tasting forbidden fruit.
That rarely could one refuse a second bite.
“We can’t do this again,” Pran said after spitting out a mouthful of water from trying to wash Pat’s taste out of his mouth. The attempt was only surface level at best, for Pran knew that although taste would fade, memory would remain.
“It’s not as if we planned it,” Pat said, leaning against the adjacent sink. “But if I see you around somewhere again…”
“I’m not saying to date me again.” Pat stood straighter and Pran wasn’t sure if he enjoyed the furrow in Pat’s brow. “I… There is a lot left to answer for, even if you tell me that it’s not my problem to bear.” Pat reached out and wiped the water from Pran’s lips. “But if fate conspires, can’t I conspire too?”
Pran sighed, bit his lip, and then extended his fist. Pat tapped it with his own.
And so it was set, there could be no set time or determined place. There could only be momentary and fleeting passions when fate allowed them to meet.
Pran called it acceptable with plausible deniability.
Pat called it surprise booty calls.
And in this way, they survived until graduation. Survived until now.
Pran bites one hand to muffle his moans and pulls at Pat’s hair with the other as Pat swallows his erection whole. Although the pair hadn’t met for three months at least, Pat had not forgotten the new tricks he had tested last time. Slow fingers gently stroke Pran’s perineum before insistently pressing. Pran whines, tugging harder on Pat’s hair. Then comes the circling of a dry finger around Pran’s hole which causes Pran’s penis to jerk in Pat’s mouth. The smirk around his erection is far too obvious to Pran before he pulls Pat up again for another kiss.
Air is secondary when a moment with the other half of your heart is all you have.
Pat grinds his hips forward, rubbing the wet head of his own aching member against Pran’s exposed hip before shivering at the feel of the same happening to him because of Pran’s. Pran moves instead to cup Pat’s cheeks and stop him from parting their lips.
The movement of Pat’s hips quickly turns erratic. Pran flips them once more, pressing Pat’s front against the bathroom door. Pat whines as Pran begins rutting himself in the cleft of Pat’s ass while reaching around to pull at Pat’s erection.
It ends as quickly as it began with Pat’s release smeared against the bathroom door and Pran’s dribbling down the back of Pat’s thigh. Although the passion fades, neither boy finds guilt in their hearts. Instead, softer kisses are shared, a reminder, a memento, a promise clenched tightly between their interlocked hands.
A moment later, a rough, wet, paper towel is pressed into Pat’s hand as Pat feels another wet towel down the back of his thigh followed with more gentle kisses.
“This was supposed to be my turn, you cheat,” Pat mutters as he cleans his front properly.
“You had your turn three months ago,” Pran says as he throws his paper towel away. “And I remember because the stains you left on my shirt were awful.”
“Listen, I was really pent up, okay?”
“You expect me to believe you haven’t been clinging to my t-shirt and doing horrible things under your sheets?”
Pat pulls up his pants and takes the time to look insulted while Pran washes his hands. “I would never sully my last memento of you by jacking off while sniffing it! How dare you accuse me of that Pran Parakul!” Pran attempts to keep a straight face as Pat stomps over and washes his hands. “And if such is the case, I bet you’ve been doing horrible things to Nong Dao.”
“Who would honestly think to do anything sexual to that stuffed toy of yours?!”
Pat sticks his tongue out at Pran before attempting to fix his hair. “I don’t know. They say repressed guys like you do weird things.”
A knock at the bathroom door causes Pat and Pran to jump apart.
“If you’re both done being disgustingly obvious,” Wai says from the other side. Pat looks to Pran who glances back and shrugs. “We’d all like to get back to enjoying this party and pretending we believe you’ve both broken up. So could the two guests of honor please finish tidying up and return to the party?”
“You’ve changed, Ai Wai!” Pat yells through the door. “That drunken tryst with Korn at the bar during third year has done wonders for your attitude!”
“You asshole, do you want me to call your dad?!”