Chapter Text
"You'll never guess what I heard," Pear singsongs as she plonks herself into the chair next to Oh Aew.
He doesn’t look up, and she rests her head on his shoulder when he ignores her, poking his cheek. "C'mon, ask me what I heard."
Gently, he shakes her off. “Whatever you heard can’t be as important as the deadline for this Maybelline campaign, so it can definitely wait."
She pouts, "you’re such a bore. Are you sure you're twenty five? Twenty five year olds should be out partying and having boys worship their fine bodies."
She pinches his waist, “I'm sure God didn't bless you with these abs of steel for you to be sitting around wasting away at the office on a Friday night.”
“If by wasting, you mean killing it at my career and heading a campaign that’s going to roll out all over Bangkok.”
Pear sighs.
"You are so sad. And you know who else is sad? That cute boy from your university, Q who is absolutely still pining over you. Do you know he sends me DMs every week checking in on you? Oh wait, or am I getting confused with that art director from Phuket who's had a crush on you since high school?”
Oh Aew shoots her a look.
“See? You should be out there mingling, getting laid, and making the gays happy."
"Oh my God,” Oh Aew says, “I should have never let you watch 2gether."
"Mm," Pear agrees, "but the damage is done. You were my introduction to the dark side and the reason why I never get any work done."
"You're insufferable," Oh Aew says, flicking her forehead, “aren't you going to leave the office now so you can enjoy Bangkok's nightlife for the two of us?"
“Fine, fine,” she says, “I can tell when I’m not wanted. But before I go, I’ve got big news and I'm not leaving until you scream with me about it.”
"In that case,” Oh Aew says, "be prepared to pull this all nighter with me, because I seriously don't think any news is going to make me scream, unless it's that you've helped me copyright this million dollar advert campaign and I can go home to my dogs."
"Hey,” Pear says, putting her hands on her hips, “what happened to dreaming big?"
"Getting home at 8pm on a Friday night? That’s big.”
“You really don’t wanna hear this?” Pear whines, blinking her big brown eyes at him.
"No," Oh Aew teases, "I really don't, but you really wanna tell me so, go on.”
"So it’s not public yet,” Pear says, beaming, “but after Maybelline wraps, Nadao Advertising is taking on "Teh" Krittakorn Saetan as our newest client.”
She squeals, ”isn't that exciting? Don't you love him? You buy all his magazines. This is the best, right?”
Oh Aew stares at his desktop.
Teh’s stupid big puppy dog eyes stare back.
Shit.
Oh Aew can do this.
Oh Aew is twenty five and the newly minted head of advertisement and he can absolutely walk into Nadao Advertising, be professional, and face his high school boyfriend.
Oh Aew pauses in front of the fancy glass doors that lead into Nadao's downtown office.
No, no, he absolutely cannot do this. He really should have called in sick today and what was he thinking–
"Oh Aew?"
Oh Aew spins around and there's… Teh, who looks as floored to see him as he feels. For a minute, time stands still and Oh Aew looks at him, really looks, drinking in every curve of his features, those eyes that used to look at Oh Aew with so much tenderness, those arms that used to hold Oh Aew so tightly each night.
Teh's grown up now, traded his Hawaiian shirts for sleek suits that hug his body in all the right places. He’s lost some of that baby fat too, his cheeks masculine and angular in a way they weren't in high school.
He’s handsome and he knows it, every bit the movie star Oh Aew always knew he’d become. And still, as they gaze at each other like this, the minutes ticking by, Oh Aew stills sees glimpses of the boy he once loved. He still loves.
Teh's lips part, then close. The corner of his mouth pulling into a smile.
"Hi."
"Hey."
"You work here now?"
It takes everything to push aside the reflexive shame, the not-good-enough that bubbles beneath the surface. But he’s happy now, and Oh Aew can’t be ashamed of that.
"Yeah,” Oh Aew says, “I ran some ad campaigns for them in my final year and I guess they really liked my work, so here I am.”
“They must’ve been great campaigns.”
He’s just being polite, but the remark still stings. A reminder of how far their lives have diverged.
“They were okay,” Oh Aew says, “but I’m definitely better at this than I was at acting.”
For years he’d kept up with Teh’s career - the screen making the millions of miles between them feel like nothing. And yet now they’re standing face to face, Oh Aew feels like he’s looking at a stranger.
He wonders if the Teh from his memories is just his imagination, except Teh trips over his feet and Oh Aew grabs his arm on instinct, and suddenly it feels familiar all over again.
Teh's skin is warm under his palms, he smells like coconuts, like Oh-Aew's shampoo, and it's that detail that jerks Oh Aew into reality. He lets go like he's been burned.
“Thanks.”
Awkwardly, Teh clears his throat. “I'm just here waiting for my manager."
"Why don't you wait inside?" Oh Aew hears himself say. “I can get you a drink."
“Oh Aew,” Teh begins, but that's exactly when Teh's manager shows up, and gratefully, Oh Aew makes for his office and hides.