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1.
"You're staring."
The singsong voice in Pran’s ear irritated him more than really surprised him. Leaned close, behind him stood his make-up artist; Paa, obviously entertained about catching him red handed.
"I'm not staring." He quickly denied, detaching his gaze from the nicely chiselled abs he had been staring at for the last five minutes, to look behind him at Paa and her badly concealed sly smirk.
"Right..." She added with an openly amused tone this time.
Paa always had the capacity to be so irritating when she wanted to be, especially when she’d get an idea stuck in her head; the outrageously silly idea that she could (possibly) make Pran leave his very much voluntary life of celibacy...
With an exasperated sigh Pran gave her his best unamused look. "Are you done with my makeup then? The director is getting impatient."
This was a flagrant lie.
Tom, the director, could not be more relaxed if he had tried. Nonchalantly leaning on a post to the side of the set, his head low and his eyes glued to the tits of one the model he had taken aside to "give directions to” privately. The girl didn't seem to mind; big cocky knowing smile and chest pushed out in front of her, she nodded along to whatever he was telling her.
"Oh yeah, absolutely, he looks like he's in a hurry. In a hurry to get that girl out of her tiny sexy little top." Paa said, her head tilting to the side, probably to get a better angle at the pair of boobs that girl was carrying.
"Can you be any more obvious?" Pran asked with his own teasing smirk directed at her.
Paa glared down at him, with a deadpan stare. "You can talk, Mister I drool all over guy’s abs."
Pran stood up stiffly, ignoring her and stepping up to his mark. Make-up done and hair perfectly in place, at least until everything would melt under the warm lights of the set.
The AD glanced his way, scurrying quickly to Tom to tap him gently on the shoulder and no doubt tell him that he should really do his job instead of flirting shamelessly with the models.
"Ok, let's go! I see our star is ready." Fake smile. Teeth so white they looked faked. All directed at Pran. The director talked as he walked back to his chair. "Looking good Pran!"
That idiot raised two thumbs up in his direction and Pran wondered why he chose this career... he gave him his best rehearsed smile he had to offer and turned away. His eyes, of course, falling on "perfect abs dude".
An attractive (and strangely familiar) smile was stretching the guy’s lips, full and dark red under the strong light that shone around them. His eyes were on Pran, beautiful and hard to get away from…
Pran’s stomach dropped in a mix of excitement and dread at the sigh of this guy winking at him. He turned away, back toward where the camera stood, kicking himself mentally for not looking away faster.
Tom sat down in his chair. "Ready on set?" A few seconds passed where everyone kept quiet. "Action."
The scene was nothing too strenuous nor intricate, and fortunately the last one for the day. Lip syncing the chorus as he looked at the camera, a still shot, wide enough to get all the models standing immobile close to him. Something that could be called artsy in the way they were placed as if in a tableau; simple set up that was supposed to translate the deeper meaning of the lyrics of his song.
Storyboard drawn up by a full team of well paid, hard-working people. Where Pran (of course) had no say in, the company deeming that him having the right to actually write his own song was enough control over his own career…
"And cut. That’s it for this set. Good job everyone." A round of applause resounded around him. Pran released a slow breath, his mouth dry from mouthing the same things over and over again.
His eyes automatically found Paa, her big proud smile aimed his way the only thing that reassured him… reassured him about his "performance".
He hated it. Shooting music videos... anything really that didn't have to do with singing. Simply singing. On stage, close to the audience. All this he did for the sure chance to get that thrill each time, fulfil his contract so he could be free… the freedom to sing the songs he wrote.
Pran let out a sigh, walking towards the make-up station to get that shit off his face.
One of the cables that was strewn over the floor had other ideas unfortunately, catching Pran's foot without warning, making him fall with flailing arms and his mouth opened in a big surprised "O". Waiting for the impact felt like an eternity, especially when it never came...
A strong hand had grabbed him around the arm, saving him and his knees from a potentially painful end. Pran’s head turned to his savior, the words "thank you" almost out of his mouth, but stopped by the vision of the face of a fucking God.
The guy with the perfect abs... of fucking course.
Those eyes, dark and warm, scared Pran, because of the power they held... a beautiful place where he could get lost and probably drown. His silly mind already started writing the first few verses of a song that would tell the story of how he fell for the stranger with fierce eyes.
"Are you okay?" This young man asked him. Pran stayed silent, his voice stuck in his chest, close to his heart where it was busy singing what he was feeling. So instead, he nodded. "Good... I'm Pat." Pat, the most handsome guy Pran had ever seen, smiled and all the warning bells inside Pran started ringing.
Memories of bad decisions flying through his mind. Betrayal that cut deep. Better run away now, intact.
"Ok." Was the only thing Pran told Pat, the stranger with the eyes that would definitely drive him mad if he didn’t stop staring into them, before resuming his walk towards Paa and her station.
Behind him, he heard Pat quietly repeat the word in the form of a question with a bewildered tone. "Ok?" Pran chose to ignore it, his stomach knotted and painful. He sat on the chair, and begged Paa with a look he knew she would understand after so many years of friendship.
A look that asked for her to protect him from himself and not do the same mistakes he had done again... With a sad smile she nodded, and the last thing he saw in the mirror facing them before he closed his eyes, was her dark gaze aimed at that stranger. A clear message.
Stay away.
2.
One thing Paa loved was to have everything ready, her brushes, bases, powders and so on. Ready and in their proper places. So, the fact that Pat was messing with the order of things made him deserve to be kicked in the shin. Hard.
"Paa!" Big whine coming from him at the warranted assault.
His hand reached down for the sore spot, his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, seeking sympathy. Fortunately, Paa had been immune to any of Pat's "cute" faces since birth. "Do not touch my stuff!" She added a threatening finger pointed at him to the warning.
Pat gave her his best eye roll. The innocent look nowhere to be seen anymore. The pretence never lasted long with her brother... "You haven’t changed at all..." It wasn't a critic; Pat had a smile on as he said those words. A nostalgic one.
She had missed him. So much. "You haven’t either. Still as annoying."
This was enough to make him laugh, the sound warming up her chest. It always had been something that soothed her and made her happy. His bright laugh. Real. It had been so long since she had heard it, even before he had fled. Before the family... had broken.
Paa cleared her throat, leaving thoughts of the past, where they belonged. "What do you want Pat? You're too early." She glanced around, confirming her suspicions. No one was in yet. It was the second day of a three day shoot. The director had a problem with paying attention to anything other than boobs, but the crew was sweet; not the worst they had worked with.
Pran hated shooting MVs. He was the pickiest person on earth. So, she had been proud to have been upgraded from personal makeup artist to friend after only 10 minutes of talking during the shoot of his first one. It had been a different time. Before what she liked to call the 'mistake'.
Wai.
A name also better left in the past... "Paa?" She let go of the chair in front of her, her hands had tensed around the back unconsciously. She looked into Pat's worried eyes.
"Sorry. What did you say?" She hated reminiscing… made her lose focus.
"You alright?" Even after 3 years, Pat cared as much as he used to. Genuine eyes, full of the brotherly love she would never confess missing.
"Yes. Just tired. The makeup artist for the models bailed before the end of the day, so I had to clean up the other extras." Pat nodded at her excuse, obviously not buying it. His eyebrows tight together.
"So. You never answered. Why are you here so early?" She asked again, making a sharp gesture with her hand to tell him to sit in her chair. Might as well prepare him now, one less to take care of later. He sat heavily, owing himself a slap from Paa, upside the head. She loved that chair. One of Pran's gift. "Be careful! You break my chair, I’ll kill you."
Pat flinched, even with his usual cocky smirk stretching his lips, when she raised her hand once more; a threat that she would do it again if he didn't settle down.
"Yes, sir." He giggled, looking proud of himself, surely for being such an annoying little shit.
"Answer my question."
"I wanted to talk about Pran."
"No." She said firmly, voice hard and serious.
Pat tried to turn around to look at her, stopped swiftly by Paa's strong grasp on his chin. Keeping his head facing the mirror to start applying the primer. Obliging, he stayed still, but kept on talking anyways. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"We can't talk about Pran." Her voice dropped, uttering his name.
"But you're the one that told me to hit on him?" Lost was what Pat looked like at this moment, and Paa felt guilt swimming low in her chest at the sight.
"I know what I asked... I was wrong. I shouldn’t have." She focused on applying some cover up onto the few spots Pat had. She should have kept her mouth shut. She just had thought... hoped that Pran was ready.
"Shit, is it coz he didn't like me? Was there really nothing? Like, I thought he had checked me out at least..." An endearing disappointed pout took over Pat’s face, little expression she had missed seeing as much as any other.
"Oh, no. He was drooling over you like a dog in heat." She reassured him. They exchanged a similar look, one that only a brother and a sister that shared a bond like theirs could understand. Their chuckles resonated the same in the empty set, voices similar in their laugh. It quickly faded to nothing as Paa kept talking. "It's just... He has some baggage he’s not ready to let go of yet."
"What kind of baggage?" Pat sounded too curious, and that was not good.
"Nope. I said that we are not talking about Pran." Her tone was even firmer, grabbing onto the setting spray to finish up. Pat had barely time to close his eyes before she started spraying his face. "Please. Just... stay away from him. Just for now." There was understanding in his eyes as he opened them back up, it settled some of her worries.
Pat was a good person, a good brother, and a good son. Even if their dad had forgotten that along the way. That had been why she had thought he could have made Pran... a little happier. Dig him out from this eternal misery he was letting himself drown in. She sighed, tired.
"Are you coming for dinner tonight? At mom's and dad's? It's curry Thursday. " An old tradition that they had started when Pat and Paa were no older than 12.
Pat’s face darkened, shutting down at her question. Memories assaulted her mind, yelling matches in their childhood house, brought on by the sight of those empty looking eyes.
"I can't." That was all he said. No excuses or reasons.
She didn't need any, she had been the witness of Pat’s struggle to live up to their father's great and impossible expectations. Pat had left because...
...I have to go Paa. I can't pretend to be something I'm not... She had no trouble remembering the letter he had left behind for her before he had escaped what had ended up being just a prison for him.
"Mom misses you." She knew she was pushing too hard; her voice was starting to break. The darkness inside his strong eyes deepened... lasting only two seconds before evaporating completely.
"It's almost time, I'll see if the costume lady is there." The conversation was over, no doubt about it. Her throat stinged.
She wanted to cry... for the things lost and moments wasted. Instead, she smiled her best smile and did what every Jindapat excelled at. Used humour to hide behind. "What costume? All I could see was your abs covered in baby oil. The light reflecting off them nearly burned my retinas!"
This time the laugh she got out of him was not as real as it could have been, but she would take it instead of the heavy and sad silence that used to be around him before he had gone. "It's not my fault I'm so irresistible that the oil dude couldn't keep his hands away from me."
Without a look back, he walked away, his steps echoing. Her gaze latched onto the barely noticeable tense line of his shoulders. Hurt. She wished she could make everything better, make the pain go away. For her brother. And Pran.
Hero complex had always been a family trait…
3.
The model next to Pat, with narrowed eyes in annoyance, stared at him so hard he could feel his skin burning under her gaze.
"What?" Pat’s tone curt, the irritation coming off her rubbing on him, changing his mood to something sour instead of anxious.
"Can you stop fidgeting for 5 seconds?" The girl asked sternly.
For a second, he considered apologising but chose to dump the truth on her instead, hoping it might get his nerves to settle down. "No, I can't. You try not to be nervous when it's your first big serious job as a model, making it the thing you need to nail perfectly if you want to make it anywhere else..."
Her expression softened as she listened to Pat's diatribe.
"...but doubt you will coz you're crushing so hard on the idol the video is for that you have trouble remembering what you have to do or where your marks are every time he breathes or fucking smile..."
She laughed.
The sound, attractive and contagious, pulled a self deprecative chuckle out of him.
"Why don't you hit on him then?"
Pat wished it would be that easy. "He's not interested..." He directed his answer at the floor, eyes unfocused, thinking about what Paa had said this morning.
"Please. He's been drooling all over you since yesterday."
Pat glanced at her, another chuckle out of his mouth at the sight of the unimpressed expression she threw in Pran's direction.
"Here. I just caught him at it again."
Looking Pran's way, Pat managed to catch him in the act too.
Absolutely terrible at feigning nonchalance, Pran got up and walked, awkwardly, towards the spot where they were getting the first shot ready. Pat and the girl exchanged an amused look, trying their best to quiet down their laughter.
"I'm Ink." She offered her hand for a fist bump.
And Pat liked her right there and then. He bumped her. "I'm Pat."
"Come on Pat, let's make your crush blush even more than he already is." Everyone stood, getting into place, ready to film. The scene would be shot in darkness with only a few soft red lights aimed at them as the extras stood around Pran, closer to him this time. Close enough to touch.
Pat took his mark, right next to Pran, on his left. And fought the urge he had to talk to him, and stared instead.
Pran was standing there, tall, professional, and so beautiful, the side of his face the only thing Pat could see... some of his features seemed tense. A surprising need to smooth the skin around his mouth tickled at Pat, his fingers twitching against his own thigh.
"Stop staring and do something." Ink whispered behind him, wiggling her eyebrow at Pat when he glanced her way and tilting her head pointedly towards Pran, a gesture for him to get a move on.
Pat had no idea what to do... it was not like he could pull a pick-up line when they were about to start shooting.
Ink rolled her eyes, clearly judging him.
Pat ignored her and gazed back at Pran, he watched at the way his eyelashes brushed down onto the soft looking skin under his eyes every time he blinked. Everything about Pran was so hypnotic.
Lost in thoughts, Pat stumbled, the firm press of a hand on his back pushing him forward. Right into Pran. "Shit." Pat had grabbed onto Pran's arm for balance. "Sorry."
Pran finally deigned looking his way, and Pat could have gotten on his knees right there and then to offer himself to do with as he pleased. His soft eyes looked beautiful and ethereal with the dim light reflecting in them. Extremely enticing. "I like your face." Pat could hit himself...
"Okay..." A strangled word out of that pretty mouth. Pran was surely unreal, probably made up by Pat’s mind…
They stared at each other for an awkward second, Pat cursing himself silently for being an absolute dumbass. "I mean it's nice... pretty." It was as if he had lost all his flirting skill in one freaking second. Behind him, he heard Ink’s mocking snort and didn’t fault her for it, he would have laughed at himself too, if he wasn’t so distracted by Pran and his big lovely eyes.
"Ok... Thanks..." Pran’s voice was low. He looked a mix of shocked and nervous, making Pat start to silently curse Ink in his mind now for having taken the initiative to try and help.
Pat let go of Pran’s arm, with an attempt at an apologetic smile. "I'm really sorry."
"It's... okay..." Pran's own attempt at the shadow of a smile directed at Pat gave him hope that he didn’t totally make a fool of himself. Unfortunately, the look he caught on Paa's face, from the corner of his eyes, turned his stomach unpleasantly. Disappointment was all he could see there.
The light finally dimmed completely, leaving them in darkness, and leaving Pat with his guilt.
"My name is Pran." Soft voice coming from in front of him.
"Ready on set!"
Pat let himself smile... silently thanking his new friend for having decided to help. "I know." He whispered back.
"Action!"
4.
Pran had said nothing more after that, just continued doing his job, and seemingly completely ignoring Pat. Still, it had been something. Flicker of hope that maybe he had a chance.
"PAT!" It was one of Paa's scary yell whispers, telling Pat to get ready for an ass whooping.
"Did I not make myself clear when I said to stAY AWAY FROM PRAN THIS MORNING!" Paa had definitely dropped the whisper part of her yell. Luckily the only person that could witness it was Ink changing, in one of the corners of the room, hidden behind some black curtains hanging there for privacy.
"Hey sis. It's nice to see you aga-"
"Shut up!" Paa cut him off, with her tiny hand up and a tiny finger menacingly pointed at him. "If you hurt Pran I will kick your ass so hard you won't be able to sit for a week!"
"Paa... I'm not hurting him; I have no intention of hurting him... I just want to court him."
"BUT WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THAT?!" She started to turn into a small little tomato, red in the face, eyes bulging. Pat unsuccessfully tried to hide a giggle behind his hand at the scene. "DON'T LAUGH! YOU WANNA FIGHT?! I'VE BEAT YOUR ASS BEFORE WHEN WE WERE 6 I CAN DO IT AGAIN!"
It was Ink’s turn to laugh.
Paa stopped in the midst of starting another angry speech to look towards the sound and call out. "Hello...?"
"Hi." Ink, changed into some sweat pants and a t-shirt with the name of some band Pat didn’t know, walked out from behind the curtain. "I want to see that."
"See what?" Paa had a stunned look on her face, one that Pat had never seen on her before.
"You beating his ass." Ink stepped close enough to tower over Paa.
"Hum... hi." Without any of the fervour from before Paa stammered out, her eyes glued to the face of this girl she didn’t know.
Pat laughed hard at Paa’s dumbfounded expression looking up at the tall girl. He stood up, getting his sister's attention back on him, with the quick gesture. "I'm sorry ok... I just... I wanted..." Pat let out a tired sigh and licked his lips. "I think he's interested... he told me his name."
Paa's face turned into a grimace, eyes narrowed, as if she had just heard the stupidest thing in the world. "But you knew his name already."
"Yes, but it’s like a late answer to me telling him my name yesterday." Pat told Paa, rolling his eyes, as if she should obviously know this already. "It's an opening... to flirt more."
She glanced at Ink, who simply shrugged at her with a soft smile. Looking back at her brother, she squinted at him, unimpressed. "You're weird..."
Pat gave her a big exaggerated smile. "Maybe, but at least I made him talk to me." She stayed quiet, looking him up and down slowly. He threw his hands up at the ceiling in a show of frustration, a loud clap resonating in the room when they fell back against his thighs. "Come on, Paa! Shouldn't you be happy? You wanted us to hit it off at first."
Paa pouted, looking unsure, the spitting image of one of Pat's own expressions. "I guess..." She finally admitted and with her best intimidating face, she added "But you better be careful or I will shove my foot u-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know." Pat, absolutely anything but intimidated, waved his hand quickly to dismiss her threat. "Now, can you do Ink fast so I can go and accidentally bump into him on the way out of here."
"Do... do what now?" Paa stammered out with difficulty. Pat pointed at the tall girl that kept looking at Paa like she was a curiosity. That small soft and mysterious smile stretching her full lips...
"Hi. I'm Ink." She offered a long and graceful hand to Paa. A weird need to nuzzle it assaulted Paa out of nowhere. Instead of listening to this need and appear as if out of her damn mind she only stupidly stared blankly at it.
Ink chuckled and Paa could have hit herself.
"Are you sick or something?" Paa turned toward her stupid brother as he asked her, almost giving in to a deep need to hit his stupid face.
"Shut up… stupid." She walked to the vanity, grabbed a packet of makeup remover wipes, and threw it at Pat with all the strength she had in her arm. "Do it yourself."
Pat tried his puppy dog eyes face on her. The fool.
"This is your punishment for not doing what I told you."
"But I always leave a shit ton behind when I do it! Paaaaaaa..." Pat whined, receiving a nice kick in the shin by a completely unamused Paa.
"Stop whining, idiot."
"You're so cruel to your only brother." Mumbled words that Paa still caught.
"You deserve worse than that!" She kicked him in the same spot again, making him flinch and curse under his breath. "Now go and get Pran to talk to you some more... also I'm not sure how you'll be able to with your inability at being charming."
She glanced at Ink, looking away fast from that gorgeous smile that made her want to do very silly things, like kiss it.
Pat with his lower lip out in an angry pout this time, rubbed at his leg. "At least be nice to my friend and do her!"
Paa felt her cheek warm up at the continuous images that passed through her mind... her dirty mind. "Go before I stuff those wipes down your throat so you will stop talking!"
Pat, without waiting to see if she was serious about this threat ran away, taking the time to fist bump Ink on the way out and murmuring something about promising that insanity was not in fact a family thing.
The door closed on Pat's back, panic rose inside Paa when her eyes once again stopped on Ink and her beautiful face where her full and pretty cheeks were, the ones that she wanted to bite on. Just a little bit, a little nibble. Just to see if they were as squishy as they looked.
She turned around towards the mirror, in an unsuccessful attempt to escape her own thoughts.
Pretending to be busy rearranging the products strewn across the vanity, Paa tried to ignore her mind as it screamed at her "TASTE HER! TASTE HER! SHE LOOKS SO YUMMY!"
"You sure you want to do me? I might deserve some punishment too in all fairness." Paa chucked a lipstick to the side at Ink’s words, the thing hitting the wall with a small clank.
Her eyes opened so big it hurt, she peered at Ink through her reflection in the mirror. Her absolute pervert of a mind providing her with such salacious images she wanted to hide under the freaking floor. "Huh?!" Was all she could respond to that.
Ink let out a small laugh, as if endeared by Paa and her inability to be a normal human being.
"I did help Pat in his endeavour to talk to Pran." Ink explained, making Paa's heart skip a beat by stepping close enough for her to be able to smell her... like cigarettes and strawberries. Fuck. Ink sat down in the chair, looking up with big, big bright eyes at Paa.
"Yes."
One of Ink’s perfect eyebrows lifted, obviously amused... as if she knew what had been going on in Paa's head.
"I mean, yes, I'll do you." Oh fuck. "I mean I'll... I'll take care of you... your face! Makeup!" Paa wondered if it was possible to knock herself out if she ran at the wall as fast as she could.
"Good. Thank you." Ink said as she leaned back and closed her eyes, ready to let Paa clean her face. "And once you're done with that maybe you can have dinner with me..." Paa stared at her without moving, wondering if she had hallucinated Ink’s last word... "...and then, maybe, you can do me. Or punish me..."
Paa swallowed with difficulty.
"...if you want." Ink said clearly.
This time a mascara flew out of Paa’s hand, as she chucked it in shock. And Ink giggled.
5.
Trying to accidentally bump into Pran ended up being difficult given that Pat had no idea where the singer currently was... he roamed the big empty place they had used as a set today and the few corridors around without any luck. Disappointed and hungry he gave up after what felt like a long hour and walked towards the exit.
"Hey Pat! Wait!" A lanky guy called out, running up to him. "Wait. Hi." Pat looked at the stranger, wondering if he was in shit for something... wouldn't be the first time. "I don't know if you remember me but I slathered you in oil on the first day." Ah. The oil dude.
"Hey man. Yes, I remember." Pat had liked that guy, warm hands, and fun jokes.
"Great! Today was my last day coz I'm just replacing this dude that has severe chronic gas and he ran out of his pills he takes to control it so he asked me to help him and he's a friend so... anyways, can I have your number?"
Pat stood astonished, an unsure smile slowly pulling at his lips...
"Oh, hey man!" The guy exclaimed to someone behind Pat, his hand lifting to wave at whoever he had talked to.
Pat turned around, and here was the one he had been dying to see. Soft eyes and pink lips, in a big black hoodie and dark oversized jeans. Handsome. Pretty. Perfect.
"Hey Force." Pran’s voice was as deep and mellow as when he had told him his name. His eyes stayed on Pat even as he talked to that guy named Force. "I thought you'd left already..."
"Nope. Just had to clean up some stuff. And you? Why are you still here?" Force asked in return.
"I..." Pran stuttered... his and Pat’s gaze glued to each other. "You wanna have dinner with me?" This question was in no doubt aimed at Pat this time. The corners of his lips lifted, uncontrollable giddiness making Pat smile. "I mean us... the team. There's a dinner... and... do you want to come?"
Pran’s ears turned red.
Pat wanted to touch them, see if they'd feel hot under the tips of his fingers. "Yes. I want you."
Force let out a loud snort, surely amused by Pat's ability to sound like an absolute moron.
"I mean, I want to... dinner. Yes. With us. I mean you. You and other. People." Pat wished something would put him out of his misery, and make him shut up. Anything.
"Ok… I'm gonna take that as a no on the phone number then." Force said in a strained laugh, catching both the boys' eyes. That did the trick to shut him up; Pat opened his mouth to talk but nothing came out. "It's alright, man. No worries." A weak reassuring smile was on Force’s face as he tried to appease Pat, the thing only making him feel guilty.
Not waiting for anyone to say anything else, Force walked away. And Pat felt like the worst asshole.
"You can ride with me." The words out of Pran’s mouth did not sound like a suggestion.
Pat turned back to him... his expression appeared harder now. Darker eyes. Pat had to swallow to be able to answer him, feeling for the first time intimidated by the idol. "Ok."
"Let's go." With a short nod, Pran started to walk away.
Pat silently followed him to his car. Taking a seat in the back with him, he listened as Pran told his driver where to go. Some fancy restaurant Pat would never be able to afford... "Hum... this place..."
"Don't worry the company is paying." Pran gave him half a smile. Cute.
Pat mirrored him... and Pran turned away, his smile gone and what looked like a conflicted expression adorning his face. Pat wished he could read his mind, feeling as if diving into the unknown each time he interacted with him.
Pran was like a mystery... a mystery he wanted to solve.
"Thanks for inviting me..." Pat kept his voice low, still it sounded too loud inside the quiet car to his ears.
"I invited all the models." Pran was turned to the window as he spoke as low as him. "It's a company thing."
Pat cleared his throat. "Right."
Cold. Pran’s entire demeanour had turned cold.
Making Pat rack his brain for something to talk about... something that would change the mood. "I like your album." He caught the little smile that stretched Pran's mouth, the sight making him breathe a little easier.
"Yeah? What's your favourite song?" Pran’s voice turned warmer this time.
"Just Friends." That got to make Pran turn to look at him, with an amused frown. "That's not in my new album." It was an old song, one of his first. Pat’s favourite.
"I know... I'm an old school fan I guess."
Pran's eyes turned softer once more, happy... "It's my favourite too."
"We're here sir." The driver put an end to something Pat was just starting to enjoy. They were stopped in a back alley, dark and creepy. "Thank you Dam." Pran gave a gentle tap on the guy at the wheel before opening the door. "Come on."
Pat climbed out of the car and chuckled, looking around them... "Did you bring me here to kill me or something..."
Pran turned to him with a creepy looking smirk, still as damn attractive as ever. "Yes..." He told Pat, as he reached inside the pocket of his hoodie for... his phone.
With a laugh, certainly at Pat's scared shitless expression, he put the phone to his ear after having dialled someone. "I'm here." A door, Pat hadn’t even noticed, opened next to them, letting loud noises out. Voices talking over each other, laughter and music.
"Come on in boys!" Some guys with a short little ponytail at the top of his head gestured for them to come inside with a big goofy smile. "There's so many hot girls in here I almost passed out." Pran let out a laugh, the sound making Pat shiver... clear and light. Beautiful.
A sound he wanted to hear more, again, forever... same for that smile, soft and delicate.
Shit... Pat was seriously fucked. He laughed at his own sorry ass and followed Pran inside. His eyes on the pretty honey skin stretched over the nape of the guy he was crushing so hard on.
6.
"Pran!" Pran jerked out of the trance he had been in... staring at Pat. Pat with his beautiful mouth open on a laugh, drinking a sweet looking drink that was slowly turning his lips maraschino cherry colour. "Pran!" Korn yelled louder, finally catching his attention. "Damn..."
Korn laughed, loud and drunk. "You gonna burn a hole in him if you keep staring at him like that."
"I'm not staring." Pran took a sip of his drink to hide his embarrassment.
"You jealous or something?" Korn asked, trying to sip at his own drink, only to find it empty. "Shit..."
After clearing his throat, Pran talked over Korn’s attempts to get the barmaid's attention. "Jealous of what?" A slight panic made his voice rise higher... usual fear of being found out gripping his vocal cords. He cursed himself internally for not being more careful.
"Please barkeep! I am suffering from thirst..." Korn half slouched along the bar, trying to bat his eyes at the girl serving.
"Korn!" Pran grabbed onto his ponytail to bring his face close and make him look at his eyes. "Jealous of what?"
Even Korn’s giggle was slurred. "What?"
"Jealous of what?" Pran repeated for the last time.
"Oh... that hot guy. Isn't he talking to a girl you're interested in?" Korn finally answered, ending his question by jerking his head toward Pat and the girl he was talking to. The girl that was hilarious judging by Pat’s laugh.
Of course, Pran was fucking jealous. Not of the hot guy, but of that girl. He craved for Pat to stare into his eyes and laugh at his lame joke and drink a fruity drink with him and let him suck on his red lips and...
"Pran!" Korn’s voice was right in his ear this time, making him flinch. "You’re drunk!"
Pran leaned away from Korn and his loud mouth with a half amused and half displeased frown. "Stop yelling."
"What?!" Korn yelled in his ear once more.
"What do you want?" A guy behind the bar asked a slouched over the counter Korn, a serious frown on his face, unamused by the state of him.
Korn leaned forward, squinting his eyes at the guy, intruding into his personal space. "Are you the pretty barmaid?"
The guy leaned away from what was surely 90% proof breath and lifted his hand to push Korn back, using the tip of his index finger on his forehead. "Sure, man."
A goofy, pleased, smile stretched Korn’s lips.
"Now. What do you want to drink?" The guy mimed to Korn the action of drinking something from a glass.
"What- wh- what would you recommend, pretty barmaid?" With his head supported by an unstable hand Korn tried to appear... flirty.
Pran narrowed his eyes, wondering if maybe he was hallucinating the scene taking place in front of him.
"I think water should be a good choice."
"Huuumm. That's sound good... do you mind if I rest my head on your desk for a few minutes, sir?" Korn pointed at the bar, his eyes drooping.
"Sure, go ahead, buddy." The guy seemed amused now... almost endeared by that drooling idiot. "What about you? Would you like something to drink?" The tone he used with Pran was much more formal than with Korn.
"Hum." Pran glanced quickly towards the spot Pat was still standing in.
Red light washed over that handsome face of his, serious expression, attentive to what the girl was saying... Pran’s eyes followed the tongue that peeked out of his mouth to lick along his bottom lip. Unsteady breath, shaken core where something fluttered, something aggressive…
"A shot please, anything strong." Pran finally answered. The guy served him what he asked for.
And with a look that looked to be worried asked. "You look like you're gonna pass out... should I get someone?"
Pran swallowed the shot in one go, mouth turned down from the strength of it.
"No. I'm fine... what's your name?" Pran got up from his stool with much more ease than he was expecting, lead weighting down his stomach.
"Wai."
"Can you keep an eye on my friend for me please Wai?" Pran slid some money across the bar, no idea of much, hoping it would be enough.
"Sure..." Wai took the money. And Pran was grateful for that, for him not pretending it wasn't necessary... if Pran had learned one thing with his job and life is that everyone wanted money. Everyone wanted to get paid. No one ever did anything for free… "Thanks."
With his throat closing in fear, Pran walked away, towards the guy he should definitely stay away from. The guy that could probably make an angel damn itself just so they would see that fucking beauty and revelled at it in pure extasy. Pran laughed at himself and his senseless mind, his mouth forming a smile he couldn’t fight as he stopped right in front of Pat. "Hey."
The word was soft out of Pran's mouth, probably inaudible in the loud place. Still, Pat looked at him, a big bright smile, bright like the fucking sun, blooming on his face. Pran wanted to weep at the unfairness of everything... "Pran." Even the way Pat said his name. Pran fucking loved it.
As if it was a treat to have that word in his mouth.
He stepped closer, letting himself pulled by his dangerous need to be close enough to feel the heat emanating from Pat.
"This place is insane! A restaurant on the ground floor and a club in the basement!" Pat finished his sentence with a loud happy laugh.
Eyes closed, crinkled skin at the corners... beautiful. Pran swallowed down his impulse to fucking touch him, wanting feel that skin under his fingertips.
"Do you wanna dance?"
Pat froze, probably looking as shocked as Pran felt by his own question...
A question out of nowhere, not even formed in his head, already out of his mouth. This was a terrible idea... a buzz started under his skin. Excitement about the possibility of touching, feeling that man against him. Pran thought that he had lost his mind... and he didn't fucking care.
He took another step forward and enjoyed when Pat's tempting eyes fell to his mouth as he repeated this insane demand. "Do you wanna dance?"
Pat blinked, and for a second dread spread inside Pran that maybe he had it wrong... maybe it hadn't been want he had seen in his eyes before.
In the background, he barely acknowledged that girl leaving, her footsteps faint. Pat stared, face laxed and... unsure. This had been a mistake. He should have kept his mouth shut. He should have never given in, should have never talked to him today. Pran was the biggest fool.
"Okay."
For a few moments they didn't move, both just staring at the other. Pat with a smirk slowly pulling the corner of lips up and Pran with an expression that showed how nervous he was. Of what he felt and what he was asking for... Pat picked up on it, grabbing gently onto his wrist.
Taking the decision himself for them to move to the dance floor. He placed his drink on a random table on the way, not caring about anything else than being able to have the one he couldn’t resist close enough to him to be able to see each little detail that made him.
Pat had hesitated saying yes when Pran had first uttered that question. Conflicted about the cold and warm waves that in turn came off Pran towards him as the night had gone on. But he had seen the way Pran's eyes had changed, how they had focused on his mouth and how he had looked like... he wanted. Wanted it. Him.
This was what he had hoped for; Pran making a move. No reason to deny him now.
Pat stopped randomly, a spot like any other, with strangers already dancing around them. He turned back to Pran, worried when he saw almost panic shining in his beautiful eyes. Unsettled, glancing every which way... Pat gently squeezed where he held his wrist, a reassuring gesture.
"Hey." Pat talked over the music, stepping closer to Pran, trying to distract him. "Look at me." Pran did, big brown eyes and pink lips parted. The light flashing around them turned his skin blue... making him look otherworldly. Pat had to swallow, dry throat in view of such an attractive picture.
Pran stared at him, fear going through him in waves... there were people he knew in this place, people that knew who he was. What he was doing was reckless. Mad.
"Look at this." Pat told him to look at him, as he flailed his arms widely, with a goofy face on. Using humour to help dissipate his obvious fear.
A small, quiet laugh escaped Pran as he grabbed onto Pat's arms to stop him. "Stop being silly..." He froze when Pat stepped close enough to him to fill his entire field of vision, making everything else disappear...
"Dance with me." Soft fucking voice; whisper by Pat.
Pran let go of him, but stayed put... falling inside those eyes that shone red from the light of the club. He stayed put when Pat asked with a simple touch and a raised eyebrow if he could put his hand on him. Warm palm he could feel through his shirt against his waist.
"Yeah."
He should say no... he should leave, walk away from making another mistake that could... will cost him so much. Instead, he let Pat bring him impossibly close, chest touching. Heartbeats. He could feel them matching the beat of the music. Pran cheeks turned red under Pat's gaze.
"Come on." Pat’s voice was still so low but still audible, so close they were the tips of their noses touched. Pran stayed stiff, his lips pursed as he glanced around them. That afraid look coming back. "Move with me, dimple." Pat raised his free hand, poking at the small indent.
One of the pretty little details that Pat had noticed before the first time he had seen him.
Pran focused back on him...
"Don’t worry about them." Pat said, that mouth of his making Pran go cross-eyed trying to stare as it moved. "Besides, I've seen you dance, you're good."
Pran smiled at his effort to make him feel at ease. He blinked a few times at him, hardly believing that this was real... he made a decision that he might regret later. Throwing safety out the window, he lifted his arm to rest it on Pat’s shoulder, leaving the other one down along his own body. After a quick smile, Pran moved.
Slow start, following the rhythm of the music, Pran kept his eyes on Pat. As he moved more, undulating his body in front of him, he could feel Pat's hand sliding to rest behind him. Firm pressure to bring him closer once more. Nobody would really call what they were doing dancing...
Movements languid, bodies together. Pran bit his lips, feeling those five digits digging into the muscles of his back. A breathy whimper escaped him, making him close his eyes. "Pran..." He didn't let him finish, using his arm around his neck, he brought his face down.
In the crook of his neck, Pat’s head rested. He breathed him in, his own noise of pleasure breaking through him as that divine fucking smell that assaulted him. "Fuck." Losing the pretence of dancing, he put his other hand flat against Pran’s back. Pran moved against him.
Barely being able to, with those hands holding him so tight along his body. The music forgotten, Pran followed the rhythm of Pat’s breath, hitting the side of his neck. A surprise whine pushed out of him, from the sensation of something wet sliding over his skin. Pat's tongue.
Teasing and so fucking skillful. Pat could taste his sweat and it tasted salty and sweet and he wanted more. He opened his mouth and nibbled, growling low when it seemed to make Pran go lax in his arms.
"Fuck. Stop." Harsh tone from a deep voice, Pran gasped onto his hair. Hard.
His breathing laboured, he looked at Pat... unfocused eyes and tempting wet red lips. Sensual vision he was already addicted to... what the fuck was he doing... "Stop." Pran ordered him, pulling Pat away from him. The absence of his hard, tall body against his left him cold.
Not taking the time to really look into those sad eyes Pat had on him he walked away. Cursing himself for being such a weak fucking idiot, he moved towards the stairs. Stopping him mid step, strong hand around his wrist. "Wait." They couldn't do that here, too many people...
Easily getting his arm out of the grasp, he kept walking, his steps bringing him where he knew they would be alone. He could pretend as much as he’d liked that he wanted for Pat not to follow him, but that's all he fucking hoped for. Weak for this man that looked like he came out of his dreams.
The third floor was empty; poker room, abandoned on Wednesdays. Pran knew this, he also knew the door locked and the floors were clean. He had doomed himself when he had opened his mouth to talk to Pat, no reason to pretend this wouldn't end like this. Like what he was planning.
It was better this way, not letting his silly heart the time to beat out of sync for him, making it physical. Easy to forget and manage. Pran stopped inside the room, finally there. The steps following him did the same. "Pran? I'm so-" Quickly turning around, Pran silenced him.
Reaching up to fit his hand across his mouth, he stared into his eyes, cold and hard. "Give me your phone."
Pat only frowned questioningly for a second before reaching in his pocket to hand Pran what he asked for. He looked as Pran shut the thing off and let go of his face to walk to the small bar at the corner of this room. Pran placed the phone behind the counter, before coming back.
He stopped in front of Pat, standing tall and serious. Handsome features harden and skin glistening with sweat. "Do you top?"
"What?!" Pat, eyes bulging, choked in surprise on the question. It was nothing compared to when Pran reached for the top of his jeans to pop the button.
"Do you top?" Pran repeated, his hands swift, opening Pat's pants with ease. "I can do both, but I'd rather get fucked today." Pat's mouth opened wide, shock paralysing him. It was only when Pran reached inside his pants, warm hand touching him that he came back down to earth.
"Wait. Wait. Wait." He said, grabbing onto Pran's arms to stop him.
"What?" Pran's voice was... cold.
Pat gazed into those eyes, where something shone, something that clashed with this cold demeanour of his... "Can you kiss me?" Pat didn’t want something... empty.
Pran's eyes slide to his mouth, red, red mouth. Magnetic... of course he was going to kiss him. He felt his stomach twist, nervous. He almost wanted to laugh at the stupidity of that. How he had no problem with the rest of this but started getting fucking anxious at the idea of a kiss.
He leaned down, and saw as Pat closed his eyes... a small smile tugged at Pran's lips at the sight. He kept his eyes open, placing his lips against Pat's. Warm mouth, soft and pillowy. One kiss. Two small kisses. And Pat breathed out slowly; a relaxed sigh.
He put his hand around the side of Pat’s neck, his thumb falling under his jaw to tilt his head slightly. And this time he slotted their mouth together, the slide slick when they both opened them to make room for the other one’s lips. The kiss quickly turned wet.
Pran sucked on his bottom lip, tongue out to give it a taste. Cherry and vodka. Quiet moan out of Pat made Pran tighten his grip around his neck, made him lick the corner of his mouth, demanding access inside. Jolting Pran in surprise, Pat took hold of him.
One hand mirroring Pran's on his neck and the other on the back of his head, sliding into his soft hair. Pressing them closer, he deepened the kiss, allowing Pran to have a taste inside. Their tongues touched, timid until Pran reached for his free hand for his pants once more.
The kiss turned from languid to hurried... Pat broke out of the kiss, to rest his forehead against Pran’s and to look down at him getting him out of his pants. His cock was already hard. Hard for Pran.
"Fuck, you're big." Pran sounded as breathless as he was.
"Thanks." Pat laughed out the word.
Pran let out his own small chuckle, looking back up into Pat's eyes. He held his gaze, the tip of his ears turning red in embarrassment. "It wasn't a compliment, idiot. I haven't done it a while..." One full fucking year...
"Oh... it's ok." Pat said, leaning forward to steal a small kiss that Pran let him have. "You can do me if you want." Another kiss.
Pran giggled against his mouth. "No. You'll just have to go slow."
"I can do slow."
Pran kissed that smug smirk off Pat's face in a hurry, already addicted by the feel of their lips sliding against each other.
He finally stopped sucking on his mouth to step back, he talked as he walked back towards that bar. "Take your clothes off." Pat obeyed, pulling his t-shirt off, following by his jeans and underwear, while looking around for a place to... well to comfortably do it. Chairs, and poker tables were all there was...
"Where... hum..." Pran raised his eyes up to Pat, and slapped the bar to get his attention. "Here." Pat bit his lips staring at the slab of wood... nearly comical. Standing naked, dick at attention with a perplexed expression on, pouty lips. Pran laughed quietly.
"It's this or the floor." Pran offered.
Pat grimaced at the ground... there was a carpet but... He walked to the counter. "Bar it is then."
Pran joined him at the front, giving him a packet of lube and a condom. "Why is that here?" Pat sounded amused by the prospect.
"Oh, it's an orgy room..."
"Huh?!"
"I'm kidding idiot... it's just in case, so people keep safe in case they wanna hook up after playing." Pran jerked his head towards the poker tables, before adding a small shrug. "You never know..." Pat laughed as he took the offerings.
Pran reached for his own black button-down shirt quickly, wanting to match Pat in his nudity. Pat stared, not hiding the fact that he was going to look. That heat came back to Pran's cheek, he glanced away as he took everything off...
"Can I..." Pat stopped himself, unsure.
"What?"
"Can I lick you...?" It was more the sheepish face Pat gave him than the actual question that made Pran laugh. Pat smiled in turn. "Just a little, like your nipples..."
Pran bit the inside of his cheek, smothering his own giggles. "Sure." Pat’s smile widened.
Absolutely anything but shy, Pat didn’t waste a second leaning down and latching his mouth onto one of those small pink nubs. Dragging a high-pitched noise out of Pran in the process, hands automatically grabbing onto Pat's hair. He pulled enough to just get him to stop sucking on it.
"Swowy. Wid a wut woo?" Pat tried to ask with his tongue still out, wiggling to lick at his nipple. Pran moaned into his laugh, closing his eyes at the sensation. It had been so fucking long.
He pulled Pat up with the aid of his grasp in his hair and licked the length of his tongue still hanging out of mouth. "Get me ready. Now."
Pat finally put his hands on him, very gently, reverently. He placed them around his ribs and slid them down to a nice full waist. "You're really fucking sexy." Pran looked at the way Pat's eyes darken as he looked at his body... panic seized him.
Panic that this would be something Pran could get used to, something he would seek out... the way this man looked at him. He tightened the grip in Pat's hair, and brought their faces close together. "Get. Me. Ready. I said." Pat's frown for a mere second before pulling Pran to him.
"Lean on the bar." Pat’s words, unlike Pran's, were not an order but a simple request. Pran did what he asked, turning his back to him to place his forearms flat against the counter. Pran felt Pat's hand map his back, before reaching his ass. He bit his lips as Pat spread him.
"Can I... can I eat you out?" Just by hearing his voice Pran could see that sheepish expression of his without having to turn around. Pran sighed he answer, greedy to finally get fucked. "No... next time. Just please." It was a lie, of course. They would be no next time
Pran twitched with a whine when he felt Pat's finger probe him, pulling him away from unpleasant thoughts about what would come later. He focused on Pat taking his time, too long for his taste, to open him up enough to fit inside.
"You're really fucking tight." Pat murmured, in awe.
Pran whine louder when he pushed a third lubed up finger inside, he felt so fucking full already... he thought back to that huge dick of his and closed his eyes. "Enough." Pat’s mouth touched his shoulder blade, one small kiss. He talked against the spot. "Not yet. Moan for me more."
And Pran fucking did, as those long fingers pressed inside him and rubbed against his prostate. A loud moan that echoed in the room and made Pat growled against his skin. "How do you want it?" He asked, scissoring his fingers to feel how much he would stretch. "Tell me."
"Hard. Fast." Pran whimpered the words out, anticipation making him hang his head down, low enough to touch the wood with his forehead. "Fuck me good." Pat pushed another of his fingers in, slower, testing... "Now. It's good. Come on." Pran breathed the words out.
"Turn around." Pat said, getting his fingers out of him.
"What about like this?"
"I want to see you... please." Pat kissed the same spot again on his back. Pran obliged him, turning around. He wasn’t sure this was a good idea, seeing Pat's eyes as he would...
The smile Pat gave him was warm and happy, and turned Pran's stomach upside down. He reached up and pulled him close, to occupy his mouth with sucking on his tongue instead of saying stupid things about what his heart was starting to sing inside him. Story about cherry kisses and...
Nothing. And nothing. Pat kissed him back, a low moan coming from his throat before he placed his hand around his hips to lift him up on top of the bar. "Shit. I really hope this is clean or I'll kick your ass." Pran tone was lighter than what he expected with that storm raging inside him.
Pat's lovely laugh resonated out of him. He leaned forward to give him another small kiss, one that Pran reciprocated automatically... shit. "Get on with it." There was an edge to Pran’s tone... that Pat decided to ignore. He wasn't stupid, he had guessed this was a one-time thing.
Not that he would give up, not now that he had had a taste of that kiss, a taste of what it felt like to see him lost to his own feelings... he had seen how Pran had fought them before giving in. It was alright, there was time to make him fall for him.
First, he would make him come for him.
After swiftly putting the condom on, he placed a steady hand on Pran’s chest, pushing him down to lie back. "You ready?"
"Yes! Wasn’t I clear enough when I told you to get on with it ?"
Pat's giggle was contagious, Pran mimicking him, the sound of both their laughs mingling enjoyable.
Pat put his hands under Pran's knees, lifting them up to let them rest on him, against his shoulders. He took himself in hand to line his dick with Pran’s hole. Looking up to catch Pran’s eyes, he started pushing in... Pran bit down on his bottom lip, a whine still coming out at the stretching sensation.
"Are you ok?" Pat asked, obvious worry on his face.
"Hum. Yeah." Pran slid down to get more of him inside, making Pat shut his eyes tight and arch his neck back.
"Fuck."
"Like I said, get on with it." Pran said with a smirk, reaching up to grab Pat by the neck to bring him closer. "Fuck. Me. Pat."
Pat pulled back, to push back in, the lube he had put on his dick making a squelch noise as he slid deeper in Pran. "Kiss me." Pran wanted to get distracted from those dark eyes and the way they seemed to look into his soul as he thrusted into him so nicely.
Pat did, he kissed him, and moved inside him. Deeper.
Pran moaned around Pat's tongue before leaning back, letting go with a wet dirty noise. "Harder. Faster." Pat did as he was told, fucking forward, hips strong and sure. "Yes." A long whimper this time came out of Pran, cut off by Pat picking up a relentless rhythm.
Pran let himself get fucked perfectly, he stared up at Pran as a sheen of sweat broke along his face as he kept moving. He was good, probably the best Pran had had... "Make me come." Pran’s voice trembled, and he pretended that it was because of the pleasure, not anything else...
Pat placed one hand around Pran stiff dick and another under him, on his back to hold him up, closer. "Do you want to get dinner tomorrow?"
"What?" Pran frowned at Pat's silly question, out of breath, so close to the edge.
"Dinner. Tomorrow. Me. You. Alone." Pat said each word each time he grinded into Pran.
Pran saw stars, behind the darkness of his eyelids, his eyes shut tight under the lovely assault. His throat started to sting from the strain of the non-stop noise Pat was pulling out of him. "Pran?" Pat was near him; he could feel his breath on his face.
"Do you have to fucking ask now?!" Pran could feel himself nearly at the tipping point.
"I know you'll say no, once we're done."
Pran opened his eyes to look into Pat's and he wanted to say yes... he wanted to believe that something was possible. A future... "No..." His answer turned Pat's beautiful brown eyes sad. Pran came first, in long spurts all over himself, mouth opened big, silent except for the laboured breathing.
Pat followed a second after, his cock twitching inside Pran, with something like a pained noise that made Pran regret... everything. Pat bent down, still inside, to press his face into Pran’s chest and breathe him in, pushing inside a few more times.
The rejection hurt more than he thought.
Pran reached up. He dug his fingers into Pat's hair, making him look up.
"Why did you hide my phone?" Pat’s eyes shone bright as he asked, bringing an uncomfortable feeling deep inside Pran’s chest that he wanted to ignore.
Pursing his lips, Pran pushed him away, wincing as Pat slowly pulled out, using two fingers to hold the condom down. Pran didn't answer, and started dressing back up instead. "Get dressed Pat."
With a sigh Pat did as he had been told, after throwing the condom in a small bin there, he put his clothes back on.
This was turning into something he didn’t particularly like. One night fucking stand that meant nothing... that was not what he wanted and he knew that it wasn't what Pran wanted either.
"That's it then?" Pat tried not to sound like he wanted to fucking cry. Tried.
Pran, all dressed, and looking fucked out, and as beautiful as ever, turned to him. "No. I need you to come with me and sign something."
Pat, in the middle of zipping himself up, let out a surprised laugh. "Sign...?"
"Yes. Sign. A NDA." Pran looked away, in shame, as he talked. "I can’t have anyone know that..."
Pat licked his lips, taking a second to understand. NDA.... "You mean your label doesn't want you to come out?"
"I'm not gay." Pran said automatically, well rehearsed...
Pat raised an eyebrow at him, in between amused and incredulous. Pran looked away once more, heat burning his cheeks red. "I..."
"Don't worry. I'll sign whatever you want." Pat meant it, he was so far gone for someone he barely knew... he could sign his soul away. Why not... "If I sign..."
Pran gazed back up at him, with a small curious frown on his brow.
"I can see you again then? If I sign, it means we can see each other again?"
Pran frown deepened, wondering if Pat knew what this meant... secrecy and lies to keep a somewhat private life. Never being free to do what should be done without second thoughts; moments of intimacy that could only be shared clandestinely. Always hiding.
He stared into those dark eyes in front of him, at this man that looked back without any fears or doubts. Fierce eyes that promised things Pran wanted to let himself want… no matter how foolish it certainly was to do so.
"Yes."
FIN (?)