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"Namping in a skirt tomorrow? please god!"
"OMG NO QC MEANS WE GET TO ENJOY A CAREFREE SEXY PING"
"we saw nampings legs today guys. never kill yourself 🫶🏼"
The last one had made Keng smile involuntarily.
The videos had taken over social media. Namping dancing to their latest, very summer song, that they had done with Tle and FirstOne. Namping pouring water over himself. Namping on the stage, playing with the audience. Namping. Just being Namping.
The first bout of hell had broken loose when Namping had, with a knowing expression on his face, slid his front-open, button-down shirt off, only slightly, to reveal a very pretty shoulder. The crowd had gone wild. The second part came when Tle had video-called Keng, and Namping (as Keng had noticed, later) very dramatically buttoned his shirt at the collar, to show, only to Keng, that he was being a good boy, and not naughty at all. They had often joked with their fans like that, but this time it sucked bigtime because they were separated by a screen! And of course, distance.
The third, and final straw was the picture.
Just Namping's legs. Posted by Chamook.
That was when all hell broke loose. Fans simultaneously lost it.
Keng's eyes had widened when he saw the picture. Surprised. Amused. Incredulous. What?
Keng spent his day in bed. If he was not sleeping, he was on his phone, scrutinising the videos, looking through the comments as everyone cheered on a "QC-less Ping." Keng loved it all. And hated it. That he was not there to see his Ping in person. That white, very see-through shirt that hugged Namping's body and those short shorts made Keng breathe deeply several times before he could form any thoughts at all. For the umpteenth time that day, Keng cursed himself for not taking care of himself better, for overworking himself, for ending up in the hospital right before Songkran? Even though his tired body had received some well-deserved rest, his mind could not help but worry about his heart.
Namping had come to say goodbye before he had departed, concern etched in every word, every expression, every soft touch, as he fussed over Keng. Had Keng had breakfast? Did he have his medicines? What did the doctor say? Was he doing better now? Will he be able to go back home soon? Home. Together. With him. To him.
Now, he waited for a reply. It had been more than twenty minutes. He dropped a text in the group, almost complaining. Namping had been texting him all day. Sometimes, his texts would be accompanied by pictures, which Keng adored.
His phone pinged with a notification and he immediately sat up. Namping. Safely back at the hotel. There was a picture too. Namping in bed. Oh, how Keng wished he was in Namping's bed right now. He responded, quickly, eagerly. Then, he opened their own chat, immediately hitting the video icon.
Namping picked up on the first ring. As his smiling face, flat bangs filled Keng's screen, Keng breathed a sigh of relief.
"P'Keng!" Namping was in a good mood.
"How are you, Ping?" Keng felt the butterflies in the pit of his stomach. He had wanted to be upset but his smiled betrayed him.
"I'm tired. But good." A beat. And then: "I miss you." Quiet. Too Quiet.
Keng smiled. "I miss you, too, baby." Before he could help it, he was pouting.
Upon seeing him pout, Namping smiled. "I can't wait to see you. I missed you all day today and yesterday. What have you been up to? Did you take your meds? Dinner?"
"I did have some dinner earlier. And my meds too. I should be good as new soon. And my day…well, I slept a bit…but mostly I…" He trailed off. He looked embarrassed.
"Were you keeping tabs on me?" Namping giggled.
A sheepish expression made its way to Keng's face. "I wanted to see what you were up to!" His tone was indignant.
Pleased, Namping smiled. "Well? Like what you see?"
Keng rolled his eyes. "Well, duh. But what was up with the… the clothes?" There was actually nothing up with the clothes. Namping always dressed the way he felt like, and Keng quite enjoyed his taste. But there was something about today. The way he was dancing. The way the water had made his shirt translucent. The way Keng could see his silhouette against the lights.
Keng was protective of Namping, but he had never wanted to police him. Until today.
Namping laughed, much to Keng's annoyance. "Well, I think I looked good."
"Of course, you looked good! That's why it's all over. People were talking about your legs!"
Namping laughed again, and this time, Keng felt his heart ache. Oh, how Keng missed that laugh.
"Ping, you had fun, right? You enjoyed yourself?"
Now, it was Namping's turn to pout. "Yeah… I had fun. But, I still think it would have been better if you were here too."
There was so much to talk about. So much Keng wanted to tell him. So much he wanted to hear from Namping. But, words failed them as a comfortable silence took over. They had become so attuned to each other, that the absence had felt like a sharp pain in the side. Keng's health, the busy schedule that Namping had to follow, the distance… All of it had been too much. They had been apart before, of course, but never like this. Keng wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch Ping's face and tell him, "Good job, Ping. I'm so proud of you." But they were miles apart and it made Keng's heart ache in a way he had never felt before. So, Keng said those words anyway, hoping they would reach Namping, in the way he intended.
…
They did.
"Good job, Ping. I'm so proud of you," Keng said, softly.
Namping blinked. Once. Twice.
Keng often praised him. Told him he was proud of him too. But, this… I missed you. You did so well. You were amazing. I'm so proud of you. I miss you. I want to come to you. I want to hold you. I love you.
"God." Namping groaned, turning over to hide his face into the pillow, blinking back tears. "Harit. You're so mean." He looked up again, to see a confused Keng on his phone's screen.
"What? Why?"
"Making me miss you like this. It's cruel." He sounded like he was whining.
Keng huffed. "You're seeing me tomorrow, baby."
"Can't wait. Mwah." Namping blew a kiss towards the screen and Keng pretended to catch it… and then clumsily dropped it. Keng looked up, sheepishly, and asked for another one.
It made Namping laugh.
…
When morning came, Keng had renewed energy. He was going to see his Ping, and nothing could stop him. He was quick, ready and waiting to depart.
Restlessness was making him jumpy, his excitement pouring through. As the van made its way to the airport, he picked up his phone to send a quick text: Ping, I'm about to leave. See you soon 🥺
Not even a minute later, his phone's screen lit up.
Ping 🐰🥕: Have a safe flight.
Keng leaned back in his seat, once again counting down the seconds.
…
Namping was usually calm, collected, but when it came to Keng, he always lost his cool. And seeing his Harit get hospitalized, once again, felt like his world had crumbled overnight. He should've known. He should've noticed. He should've done something earlier. He should've- And then Keng had calmly taken both of his hands and pulled Namping in a hug, rubbing his back, whispering to him it was okay. He would be okay and he would take care of himself and recover quickly and they would have a blast at Songkran.
Namping had nodded and smiled, but he knew Keng could see the sadness in his eyes.
…
Keng closed his eyes for exactly a second before he opened them again. He could barely contain his excitement. Or his smile. He knocked on the door, and heard someone approaching on the other side. He knew Namping would not be alone, so he took a deep breath, as the door swung open to the cheerful faces of his beloved team.
…
Namping knew Keng was on his way, and try hard as he might, he could not sit still for a moment. He busied himself, rummaging through his clothes, his bags, not sure what he was looking for. P'Top and Maecha had asked him a few times what he was looking for, and did he need something? Namping had shaken his head no. Did he lose something? Should they go out and buy it? Maybe order it online? Or ask one of the others if they had an extra? What was he looking for? Namping had shaken his head "no" everytime, saying he thought he misplaced his earbuds. In retrospect, Namping realized, that was a dumb thing to say, given that his silver headphones were lying on the nightstand.
Maecha's phone rang, and she picked it up almost immediately. Through the rush in Namping's head he could only make out a few words. "… bags…room number… Bring him up."
Namping froze. He fished his phone out of his pants' pocket, having forgotten about its existence in his urge to feel busy.
He had a few unread texts.
Jeng: I'm about to reach.
Jeng: Can't wait to see you.
Jeng: Did you have breakfast? Lunch? Do you want anything?
Namping bit his lip, thumbs poised to type a reply, when another text popped up.
Jeng: Are you ignoring me? Are you upset?
Namping felt his eyes sting, but before he could type his response, there was a knock at the door.
Maecha and P'Top jumped, and Maecha quickly made her way to the door.
Namping gulped. His heart started hammering in his chest. He had tried not to show it, to hide it from everyone, but he had missed Keng. A lot. More than he would like to admit to himself. More than he had admitted to Keng.
When Keng stepped inside the room, the air seemed to vanish. As he closed the door behind him, Namping gulped. He looked good. Too good.
Namping raked his eyes up Keng. He was dressed in light blue jeans, a white t-shirt, bag in hand, and sunglasses that he was now tucking into the neckline of his shirt. He was not wearing any jewelery, Namping realized, with a pang of sadness. He looked better than the last time Namping had seen him. A knot of unease that had settled deep in Namping's stomach over the past two days, seemed to lift, and he let out a breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding.
There was a shine in Keng's eyes as he smiled at him, and shyly, so quietly that Namping could barely catch it, said, "Hi." There was a cheer from P'Top and Maecha, as they greeted him. Namping forced a smile, raising both his hands to wave to Keng. Keng walked over to him, and pulled his hand, intertwining fingers with him.
"So you had a lot of fun yesterday, huh?"
Namping smiled. "You weren't there to stop me." His mind zeroed in on the feeling of his fingers intertwined with Keng's.
Maecha and P'Top fussed over Keng; one taking his bag from him to place it on the bed while the other asked him if the trip was okay. After what felt like an eternity, they said something about leaving them to rest for a bit before they had to depart for Phayao.
As the door closed behind them, silence settled in the room, leaving Keng and Namping alone.
At some point, during the chaos, Keng had let go of Namping's hand and Namping was painfully aware of how cold his fingers felt just then.
Now, Keng stood in front of the door, having just bid farewell to the leaving party. He turned. And Namping felt anger bubble up inside of him.
…
Finally. They were alone. Keng had been waiting for a moment just like this. Just him and Namping alone.
Keng turned away from the door and halted in his tracks when he saw Namping's expression. Angry. No. That was too mild a word. Furious? Yeah, maybe that fit.
Something tugged at Keng's heart and he quickly covered the short distance between them, taking both of Namping's hands in his.
"Ping-"
"Don't even start!" Namping snapped, pulling away.
"Namping, please." His tone was whiny. "Why are you mad? You didn't even respond to my texts."
He said nothing. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, hands between his thighs, fingers laced together.
Keng knelt in front of him, peering up into his eyes.
"Talk to me?"
"I don't want to." He was not going to look at Keng.
Keng pulled Namping's fingers free, lacing them with his, as his other hand reached up to touch Namping's jaw. Almost instinctively, Namping leaned into the touch, his eyes closing.
Namping seemed to realize it instantly, as his eyes snapped open, but Keng paid him no heed. Instead, he leaned into Namping, his nose meeting the curve of the neck he loved so much.
"Napatsakorn…" He breathed, and was pleased when he felt Namping's breath hitch. He inhaled the familiar scent of his boyfriend, the faint smell of his apricot bodywash.
He placed a kiss on Namping's neck, on the jugular that pulsed under his lips. His tongue peaked out and licked. Slow. Too slow.
A moan escaped Namping's mouth, and Keng couldn't help but smile.
…
Namping was angry. He was. No, really, he was. Until Keng looked at him with those too-brown eyes, and took his hands in his, and laced their fingers together, and cupped his face and came too close and…and…
Namping hated how his body always betrayed him, how he had instinctively leaned into Keng's hand, how he could not bear to stay mad at his beloved as he breathed into the curve of his neck.
"Napatsakorn…" And suddenly, Namping felt like he was on fire. Heat pooled into the pit of his stomach and he took a shaky breath.
Keng nuzzled into his neck, kissing and licking, slowly. It was driving him mad. Keng's hand traced his jaw, and then slid down, his fingers on the nape of his neck as his thumb glided over his adam's apple. He trailed kisses down his throat, stopping just at the base.
He pulled back, just a little, only to push Namping back on the bed, and climbing atop him. Namping snaked his arms around Keng's neck, waiting, anticipating, hoping.
Keng's fingers softly traced Namping's arms and oh-so-slowly made their way to his hips, where they stopped. And then Namping felt it: the cold fingers on his waist.
"Now, you want to tell me why you're mad?" Keng was looking down at him.
Now, Namping was trapped. Very physically trapped. This prick.
"I'm not mad," he huffed.
"Babe. Be honest." Keng's voice was soft, whiny, but Namping shuddered at the authoritative undertones.
"I just— I'm not mad. I don't know. I'm just— Annoyed. I'm just frustrated." Namping pulled his arms down to cover his face but Keng was quick, holding both away, over his head.
"Frustrated? With what?"
Silence.
"Ping, please talk to me."
"I said, I don't know! Just let go!" Namping snapped, pushing Keng away, with all of his strength. Every word was laced with anger, but the origin was unknown, even to Namping.
Keng let himself roll over and fall onto the bed, but pulled Namping into his arms. He adjusted himself so they were both lying side-by-side, facing each other, his arm supporting Namping's head.
"That's rude," Keng said, quietly.
"Whatever," retorted Namping, but there was no bite in his words this time. He played with an imaginary thread on Keng's shirt.
A sudden realization seemed to dawn on Keng. He leaned down, and planted a soft kiss to Namping's forehead. Namping's eyes closed of their own accord, as he breathed in Keng's familar scent.
"I know why you're angry," Keng finally spoke, pulling back just enough to look into Namping's eyes.
"No, you don't," Namping said, rolling his eyes. Of course, you do.
Keng pulled Namping closer, until Namping's head was tucked under his chin. His hands rubbed Namping's back, and Namping, face in Keng's chest, breathed deeply, the familiarity of being in his favourite pair of arms comforting him.
He had missed this; the arms always there to hold him, the scent that reminded him of home, Keng always knowing what to do, Keng's stupid, handsome face, those eyes…
"I missed you too, you know. A lot. Way more than I can even tell you." Namping could feel the reverbration in Keng's chest as he spoke.
Namping's anger was fading, albeit slowly.
But, he realized, his anger could wait. His love could not.
Reluctantly, and eagerly, he pulled away from Keng, only to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. Before Keng could reciprocate, Namping sat up and crossed his legs, patting his lap, as an invitation.
Keng smiled like Namping had offered him the moon. Gleefully, he adjusted himself, placing his head in the lap so graciously presented before him.
Namping ran his fingers through Keng's hair, receiving a hum of appreciation. A smile tugged at his lips.
"Tell me everything," Keng said, looking up at Namping.
And so, Namping did.