Chapter Text
~ All things are implicated with one another, and the bond is holy, and there is hardly anything unconnected with any other thing. For things have been coordinated, and they combine to form the same universe. ~ (Meditation 9. Book Seven) (Meditation by Marcus Aurelius)
The summer heat was horribly stifling, the afternoon sun aggressively bright high in the clear sky. Pran was starting to regret having agreed come today, philosophy was always such a drab… those old men too stuck in one way of seeing things, often blind to the beauty around them, missing on seeing the charm of small details, in the little things; too busy looking at the big picture.
“Remind me why I agreed to come here with you again?”
The way Wai rolled his eyes at Pran’s words made him frown in annoyance, if he had the gall to drag him to a philosophical reading under the burning sun of Athens then he should at least treat him with some respect, he was his senior after all, only by a few months but still.
Pran had trouble even remembering why they had started being friends in the first place… Definitely not because of his manners.
“You agreed because you hope to meet other poetry writers…” Wai said those words with some exaggerated contempt.
It had always been their affectionate game; Pran critiqued Wai’s need for old man to tell him how he should live his live, while Wai made fun of his desire to lounge in the sun and look at butterflies while he described on paper what it felt like to fall in love with leaves as they flew around in the warm breeze of the late summer, his words not Pran’s.
“Right, well, let’s hope there’s something other than old men with white beards on the program.” Pran almost tripped when a little girl bumped right into his legs, hooking her arms tightly around him. He peered down at her, his eyebrows rising high in surprise at how dirty her face was, smeared in what looked like honey.
“I’m sorry, I was trying to escape.” She said conspiratorially to him.
Pran chuckled involuntarily as she gave him a big smile that made the skin around her eyes crinkle pleasantly.
The girl liked this tall boy’s face, when she looked into his eyes it felt the same as when she touched the cat that lives under the big tree next to her house, soft. She let out a quiet giggle thinking that it was one of those thoughts she had that her dad loved to hear about, where she compared two things and it did not make sense but at the same time did.
“Daw!” He had found her, her father, in record time for once.
She pouted in disappointment; she had hoped to be able to play for longer. She hid her face against the legs of the boy that had the eyes of a cat, smearing honey all over the bottom of his chiton.
Pran’s face scrunched up slightly at the idea of whatever the substance on the child’s face dirtying his clothes. He lifted his head to get a look at what he assumed was her dad, his eyes landing on someone that looked nothing like what he was expecting.
“Here you are! I told you not to run away.” This man was taller than him, with dark skin and piercing but gentle eyes, and as they locked down on the child, the man’s plump mouth turned from a perfect heart shape to an amused stretch.
Pran was quite sure he had never seen someone like that before, he looked so foreign, it piqued his curiosity, and it was not something that easily happened. When the man reached them, his smile fell slightly as his eyes left his daughter to stop on Pran’s interested gaze.
“Hello.”
Pran blinked a few times, the sound of the man’s voice in addition to the intrigued look he aimed at him made a strange but enjoyable shiver go down from the nape of his neck, along his spine, to stop around his lower back, where it spread into something warm that had him take a small short breath and bite down gently on his lip.
The way that man’s eyes dropped to his lips as he sunk his teeth in there did not go unnoticed by Pran, but completely by Wai, who was besides himself when he realised who the man standing in front of them was.
“Oh, my Gods! Mr. Jindapat.” Wai’s voice startled them both out of whatever that moment meant, he sounded full of reverence, and the quick glance Pran aimed towards him, confirmed that he was extremely happy to see whoever this man was. “I have read all of your work, that’s why I’ve come here, to listen to you recite book 7.”
Pran almost laughed at the adoration that shone in Wai’s eyes as he gazed at that man… ‘Fierce eyes’ gave Wai something he would call a very polite smile that seemed to cover a sort of unease, before his eyes returned to the child that still had her small arms around his legs.
“Daw, we have to go, you know you have to stay put while I speak on stage.”
She let out a long sigh, and tilted her head up to stare at Pran… her eyes were like her dad’s, slight difference when Pran found them missing the same melancholy that seemed to live in his.
“Can I stay with ‘cat’s eyes’ while you speak? It is always boring, please father.” She used her sulky voice, knowing her dad would not be able to resist it, just like when she had asked if she could eat some of that honey, even if her aunt had absolutely forbidden it.
The corner of Pran’s lips lifted slowly, this child obviously knew how to get her dad to do what she wanted. He looked back up to him when he heard him huff a small laugh, and something happened once more as their eyes met.
Pran was pretty sure it had an effect on this man too, his lips slowly parted each moment they looked at each other, as if surprised every time they did.
He was right; Daw’s dad did feel something, and it was not something he particularly liked, for what twisted low in his belly when he gazed at this young man resembled infatuation, the exact thing that he promised himself he would avoid.
He was too old now for any kind of fling with boys… too old and too tired.
He cleared his throat, and looked away from those deep eyes to bring them back on his daughter. “Daw, don’t you think you should ask permission first?”
Pran felt her tiny hands grasp the back of his legs tighter, before she rose two dark eyebrows at him, in a begging manner.
“Can I stay with you while my father speaks about the proper way for people to live their lives?”
Pat scowled at her, even if her back was turned to him. He started opening his mouth to reprimand her about the familiar way she was talking with this young man, but got cut off before he could get a word out.
“Absolutely.” The boy’s tone was playful, it matched the smile that stretched his lips. Irritation lodges itself in the father’s throat, he had never appreciated an impudent character, no matter how pretty the person was.
Daw released the hold she had on Pran to turn towards her father and to give him a satisfied smile.
“My name is Pran. It is really no trouble for me to keep your daughter’s company, as I also find philosophy to be dreadfully boring.”
The smirk on Pran’s face twisted the man’s stomach, aware enough to recognize it for what it was; arousal. He let a measured breath out, to try and get some sort of control back on where his mind was trying to go as he looked down at how this boy’s mouth stretched so big two dimples appeared on his cheeks…
He opened his mouth, ready to refuse the offer, but the boy cut him off once more, lifting his hand to offer it to him. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Napat Jindapat.” The man answered as he looked down at Pran’s hand, and even if he would rather not touch him, he reached for it, clasping his hand around his. The young man’s skin felt soft, his hands slender, his fingers strong but obviously not the ones of a farmer.
Pran let his gaze fall on their joined hands, the contrast of that man’s skin colour with his, excited something in him. For a few instants he imagined what that hand would look like around his ankle…
“Father, please…”
Pat looked down at his daughter’s pleading eyes. She already knew he would agree to it, she had perfected that pleading gaze, and as he let out a small defeated sigh, she knew she had won.
A quick glance up to the Pran’s face showed her that he seemed to also know what the outcome would be, giggling at how pleased the smile on his face appeared.
“All right. But make sure you sit where I can see you.”
Daw nodded enthusiastically. Pran’s eyes were on Pat’s face, and his hand was still in his, Pat seemingly acting as if he had forgotten they were still joined.
“Can I have my hand back? Napat.” With clear amusement, Pran asked the man. His smirk growing larger at the way his black eyes turned big and round in surprise.
Wai, who had been pretty much silent all this time, observing the entertaining interaction between all three of them let a loud gasp out at the use of the philosopher’s first name. Pran was an absolute stranger, and his junior… but really Wai shouldn’t be surprised, Pran has a tendency to be… what’s the best words to describe it?
Delightfully shocking.
If Wai had not been so much into women or afraid to lose their friendly relationship, he would have taken the time to pursue Pran, he probably would get refused but he knew the courting alone would be worth it.
Pat’s hand twitched unconsciously when his name left Pran’s lips; it had not been out of such a young, and appealing mouth for a long time now.
He let go of Pran’s hand, the gesture quick enough to be awkward, there was no embarrassment in his features, but he did feel annoyed by the idea that he somewhat indulged with that simple touch.
His irritation doubled when he looked back into Pran’s eyes and noticed the way one of his fine eyebrows was raised in some sort of suggestive way, like he was absolutely aware of what was going through his mind. He started to rethink his decision to agree to Daw’s demands when she quickly grabbed Pran’s hand in one of her and his friend’s in the other, a big smile splitting her face in two.
“Thank you, father!” And with that she pulled them towards the middle of the room, where she was certain her dad would be able to see her clearly from the podium. She did let go of Pran when he did not budge, his eyes still on her father, shrugging in dismissal, she focused her attention on his weird friend, who simply gave her a crooked smile before letting her lead him to some seats.
Pat’s gaze followed Daw until she was safely seated, she quickly turned to him to give him a small wave, grabbing Pran’s friend’s hand by the wrist to shake his arm left and right. Pat almost laughed when an admonishing expression took over her feature, one she aimed toward that boy as he took too long to realise that she wanted him to copy her and wave.
“You don’t have to worry, Wai is harmless. Even if he is way too obsessed with philosophy… I think I remember him mentioning how enamoured he was of you and your contemplations.”
When Pat looked back to Pran, the only thing he saw this time, in his eyes, was curiosity.
Pran was curious; he wondered what must be so special about this man for him to react this way.
Pran was not someone that got interested easily, in anyone really… but this person was fascinating. “How old are you?” The inappropriate question easily left his mouth.
Pat scowled at him, funnily the same way he did at his daughter. “Your manners are lacking, boy.”
The way Pran pursed his lips, playfully (flirt), woke that wave of arousal back up inside Pat. He took a step back, as some sort of attempt to escape from this expressive mouth; it should not be allowed to have such features, it was dangerous enough to make someone sane obsess.
Pran took a step forward, bringing them closer than they were before. Pat frowned at him, annoyed by the gesture.
“My apologies… Sir.” This was a mockery…
Napat was surprised at how much he wanted to touch this cheeky youngster, looking into his big mischievous eyes, and that cocky smile on his face, that seemed to say how much he knew what his desires were.
Anger started to burn low inside his belly, at himself, for letting someone he had laid his gaze on only a few minutes ago throw his existence upside down. Pat finally managed to look away from what felt like divine temptation when one of his fellows called to him, reminding him that his turn to speak was soon.
“I… Keep with my daughter until I’m done, please.”
Pran nodded, the movement slow, his smile softer now, but his eyes still as alluring. Pat swallowed around whatever got stuck in his throat at the sight of them, and turning away from this young thing was similar to torture, his legs weighing a ton as he took the steps that lead to the stage.
Pran’s eyes stayed on the confounding being that was this philosopher, his appearance so far from the usual grizzled and plain look those old men, that like to pretend did not let anything bother them, have.
He tilted his head to the side, his eyes still on Pat as he engaged in some surely boring discussion with a white-beard man. He observed as the skin around Napat’s eye crinkled as he let himself laugh at something said by the woman accompanying his fellow.
Maybe Pran should expand his horizons, dip his toes in the pool of notions that smarter men lived by, and get under the wing of a mentor. He wondered if Wai would help, as he had no doubt the object of his fancy would never believe him when he would tell him about wanting to be his student as a means to get his mouth on him.
With his eyes glued to Napat, he sat next to his daughter, looking at the man’s tall and imposing frame as he walked up to the stage, placing himself behind the podium, his writings in between both his hands.
Pran was surprised by the seemingly lack of nerves from the man, he exuded confidence in a way he did not feel as they had interacted… of course, he would get more enticing as Pran carried on observing him.
“Wai.”
Wai’s eyes fluttered, as if woken up, startled out of his obvious enrapture with the philosopher’s words. The look he threw at Pran was one of clear annoyance; he would rather not miss any of the reading, it was so rare these days to see Jindapat out and about…
“I want to be under him.” Pran said, pulling a surprised little scoffing noise out of him that attracted his attention, finally pulling his eyes away from Pat to look at his friend. He had to roll his eyes at Wai’s comically choked face, his eyes going frantically from him to Daw.
The little girl started giggling after noticing Wai’s strange face, like a fish left to dry out on the shore, his mouth opened large.
“You look like a dying fish.” She simply told him.
Wai’s face fell quickly and Pran did not try to hide his chuckle; she was such a strange little girl.
Pran got Wai’s attention back with a few words. “I meant under his teaching.” He did not call Wai an absolute idiot but it was heavily implied, which Wai realises, if the wounded look, he threw at Pran was anything to go by.
“Didn’t you proclaim just a few moments ago how much you found philosophy dreadfully boring?”
Pran gave Wai a cocky smile, with a raised eyebrow to match it. And Wai understood with that gesture that when Pran had used the word ‘under’, he did, indeed, also meant literally. “That is never going to happen. It is well known that Jindapat never accepts apprentices.”
He gazed back to his idol, his mood sour now; for letting his friend make him miss a huge part of the reading, not only that… the idea that there was a possibility Pran would be able to make Jindapat take him under his tutelage, when he was certain, he would get refused without another glance.
Pran could always make anyone he wanted do anything he wished… him included. “Regardless, isn’t your fancy, poetry? Not dreary philosophy.”
Pran opened his mouth ready to pacify his friend’s obvious upset demeanour, but Daw who turned her gaze to him the moment she heard the word ‘poetry’, cut him off, her eyes as round as saucer, giving her a nice owlish look.
“I’ll help.” They looked down at the young girl in a synced gesture, both with a wondering expression. “I like that. Poetry.” She ended her sentence with a big smile directed at Pran, one he strangely could not stop himself from mirroring. She gave him a couple of satisfied nods, her eyes crinkled shut from her smile before looking back towards her father, the matter settled.
Pran followed her gaze, turning his eyes back on Pat, making him stutter the seconds their eyes meet. It had been barely noticeable, but Pran had heard it, before Pat continued his diatribe, shifting his eyes away, like nothing had happened.
A small surprised smile pulled at Pran’s lips; at the sensation that pulled at his inside when the philosopher’s eyes had stopped on him. Weirdly he could only find a boorish way to describe it… butterflies.
Butterflies in his belly.