Chapter Text
Spring melts into summer with the rise of a chorus of evening frogs and insects. First listens to the concerto every evening, pausing by the chicken coop or leaning against the barn door while the world sinks into dusky purples and blues.
Today was exhausting in a way that First feels deep in his bones. The evening temperature drop is kind to his tired body. He chugs half a can of beer in the kitchen, then carries it out to the patio along with two unopened ones. Khaotung is already seated in one of the recliners.
“Thanks,” he takes a can and spreads a blanket over their laps once First sits down.
First found a second blanket a long time ago. Neither of them has mentioned it.
Ten minutes pass in silence. First can feel his heartbeat slowing, his muscles releasing tension. Around them, the evening air is cooling, stirred by a gentle breeze. A cow moos in the barn. A goat responds. Khaotung’s horse, tied to a porch beam with a long rope, sighs.
Khaotung goes inside for more beer and a bowl of trail mix. Their fingers brush as they pick out nuts from the dish.
“I feel like half the time I feel completely settled, totally normal to be in Kilbett; and the other half I still feel surreal that I’m back here,” First muses. As always, Khaotung turns his head to look at him while he speaks. “A few days will feel normal, and then the next few I feel totally out of my depth and losing my grip on everything I have to learn and do.”
Khaotung makes a sound of acknowledgement.
“Having the farmhands around, has it changed anything about that feeling?” he asks.
First shrugs, “Too early to say. It’s somehow more stressful to have them around because I’m still getting used to coordinating everything they do. Yesterday that Pawin was finally here for the first time it did feel like a load off my shoulders though. He really knows the farm inside and out. I just don’t want to end up offloading everything on him just because it’s easier than learning by myself...”
“And you won’t,” Khao is quick to reassure. “But you are still learning and that does mean it’s normal for him to have a more central role than usual for now. You’re growing into your farmer boots, as dad would say.”
First breathes a laugh. The beer has settled low in his stomach and warmed his thighs and forearms with a pleasant buzz.
“It’s crazy to think about how much Kilbett has changed yet how much it’s stayed the same,” he muses again. “There are more cafes now, but fewer bookstores. We’re a farming town, so I don’t actually know what that says about us if anything?”
Khaotung laughs, “You’re right. I hadn’t thought about that. I think in many ways, as much as we’re pretty good at clinging to being a community, we’ve also fallen victim to the general…loss of public community spaces that you see everywhere. But at the same time, I’m not sure it matters that much to us because everyone still knows everyone and hangs out on each other’s land.”
They reminisce about old hangout spots that they used to visit with their respective friend groups as teenagers, about long-closed stores and the old quarry everyone used as a swimming hole. It’s rightfully off limits now; First and Khaotung both laugh incredulously about how they could have thought that swimming in that nasty water laden with God-knows what chemicals was ever an okay risk to take in the name of fun.
Khaotung tells First about some of the new developments in town that he hasn’t yet seen. He recommends a barber shop and talks about the mechanic out on route E45 that can be trusted with farm machinery. He talks about the revival of Kilbett’s improv comedy club and the legendary bingo nights attended by young and old alike.
“I swear! It’s actually so much more fun than you’d think!” he elbows First who is refusing to take him seriously.
“Sorry, how old are you again? Seventy-three?”
“I mean it! They play cool music, they do themed nights, you get free drink tickets or ice cream coupons if you get a bingo… they got stuff for kids, they even do drag nights sometimes where the queens announce the numbers and perform after the bingo!”
“Drag night in Kilbett…who would’ve thought,” First says. He’s too scared to look at Khaotung while waiting for his reply, for reasons he doesn’t know.
But Khao only replies mildly, “Right.”
First brings out more beer and speaks up again after a lull in the conversation.
“So were we really in the same class in high school?” he says quietly, still only letting his gaze rest on the horizon.
Khaotung clears his throat softly.
“Yes, for just a little bit. We uh— Yeah.”
“I don’t remember us ever running into each other,” First ventures. “Such a small school, I would’ve thought I would’ve remembered you.”
Khao takes a beat too long to respond, “Yeah. You– Well, I think I remember seeing you in the hallways. But we never ran into each other, no.”
First’s heart beats hard in his chest. He wonders if Khao’s words mean anything.
There is a single thing that First has actually known about farming since his teenage years and it’s how to water the vegetables. His parents had him helping with that simple task often enough that he could call himself an expert.
Today, First has requested Khaotung’s help with learning to water the vegetables.
“Watch carefully. See?” Khaotung points at the row of pepper plants that he just moved the hose to. He’s so into his lesson that First doesn’t dare do anything but nod enthusiastically, “Look how much faster the water reaches the end of the row than the previous. See? It’s already almost at the end, while in the previous row it took much longer. By adding a little mound of soil just north of halfway, you make sure the water will stick around in the earlier part of the row and water all the plants sufficiently.”
“Yes, yeah, I see it. And now in this one it’s just pooling at the end,” First replies, hoping he doesn’t sound too knowledgeable.
But Khao simply praises him, “Exactly! Good eye. See how it’s even spilling over into the next row?”
First continues to play the part of eager student and doesn’t even feel guilty about it. Khaotung is a very enthusiastic teacher. If he’s enjoying giving First farming lessons this much, then First is basically doing him a favor by indulging him, right? Like when Khao was showing him how to open a row to let the water with one of the wide-bladed hoes and insisted that he wrap his body around First’s to show him the correct posture and arm positioning.
Khaotung gets to play teacher, and First gets to be groped by his hot little cowboy neighbor.
The other day, he overheard Mark tease Khaotung that the latter spends more time at First’s farm than his own. It tickled First to hear that. Still, he refuses to read too much into it. This is friendship. A beautiful, platonic relationship between two nearly middle aged men, sharing moments of companionship and joy under the summer sun in a small farming town.
Funny enough, something quite…interesting happened the other day. First was sipping his morning coffee on the patio, leaning on the railing and drinking in the sight of the farm, when Khaotung showed up on horseback with hot breakfast sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil.
“Mom just made them and insisted I bring you some,” he explained, handing First a bag.
The sandwiches smelled delightful to First’s empty stomach. He had been planning to put together a quick bite once he got dressed, after his coffee. Belatedly, he realized that the sleeping shirt he was wearing is one he got at a pride parade a few years ago. Rainbow letters and numerous mentions of “pride” left no room for doubt about just what the shirt signifies. First flushed a deep red. He saw Khaotung throw the front of the shirt a glance and completely overreacted.
“That smells good, thanks! I’ll uh–I was actually just about to get changed,” he blurted out, tugging the shirt off. The morning breeze rippled across his bare skin. Seeing Khao glance at his chest made him wonder if this wasn’t, in fact, worse. “Yeah, I’ll go change and eat after. Did you eat already? You should have one one of these. I’ll be right back!”
The next day, when First met Khaotung out in one of their shared pastures where their cows were grazing, his eyes were drawn to Khao’s hand. An unobtrusive woven bracelet in rainbow colors circled his wrist, one that had not been there before.
For hours after that, First was deep in an “I don’t know what to make of this at all” state of mind. Part of him was vigorously opposed to reading anything into the appearance of the bracelet. Another part was pointing out the obvious connection to the shirt that Khao saw him in and First’s reaction to that.
By the evening, First realized that something had unknowingly relaxed inside of him. And when Khaotung came over for their usual beer on the porch, First felt that, like a knot loosening, something had shifted between them. He was breathing easier and somehow he could tell that Khao was too.
Earth shows up for another tractor lesson two days later. He and Khaotung ride their horses out to the cornfield where First is working with Pawin to inspect the sprouting plants.
“Good to see you, buddy!” Earth gives Pawin a quick hug, slapping the short man’s back. “Good to have you back. Do you guys want to take a break and then we can practice with the tractor? Apparently Khaotung has prepared a feast…”
Khao protests, “I only made the bread! The rest is just a bunch of things to make sandwiches with–”
“Oh, he only made a whole loaf of fresh bread…”
The four of them sit on boulders or on the ground in the shade of a large apple tree. They pump water in their canteens directly from one of the nearby wells. Khaotung has indeed packed a small feast’s worth of food: roast beef slices and cheese, fresh tomato slices, onions, pickles, olives, a jar of horseradish mayo, and of course the warm, thick-crusted loaf of bread he baked himself.
First’s eyebrows shoot up into his hair when he sees the spread.
“Woooow…You brought all of this and you baked the bread?! Has anyone ever told you you’re husband material?” he exclaims, picking up a paper plate.
Khaotung laughs.
“Ah, well..It’s nothing special, seriously.”
It’s only when he glances over and sees Khaotung’s blush, hears him stammer, that First realizes what he said. For someone so afraid of overstepping boundaries and messing up my friendship with Khao , I sure am a flirt all of a sudden , he thinks to himself, tucking a wince into his water bottle. Luckily, Pawin rescues him.
“Next it’s gonna turn out he made that cheese too,” he jokes.
“Well, actually…” Khao makes a sheepish face.
“Wait, you did?! You made the cheese?” Earth exclaims.
“It’s just a small batch! I just make cheese sometimes when I have free time, it’s relaxing–”
Everyone groans in unison and Khaotung covers his eyes in shame.
Assembling himself a sandwich, bantering alongside the others, First is struck by a wave of nostalgia of the good kind; he used to love having lunch in the fields with his parents when he was very little. There’s something about even the simplest of meals after a morning in the sun, working the land (or, in seven-year-old First’s case, playing in the clay-rich soil) that bring idyllic joy.
“Okay then!” Earth clears crumbs off his work clothes after packing away the remnants of his food. “First, I’ll bring the tractor over, and we can get started.”
First rolls his eyes with a resigned sigh and Khaotung laughs.
Objectively speaking, First has gotten the hang of working the tractor by now. The problem is that he doesn’t really like it, and some of the maneuvers make him nervous. The manual drive, combined with the sheer size of the machinery is hard for him to get used to.
And even though he’s feeling pretty good about his driving today, it turns out his anxiety wasn’t unfounded.
One moment he is biting his tongue between his lips in concentration as he backs the tractor away from a plowed section of the field, and in the next, Khaotung is jumping up on the machine’s steps and banging on the door, yelling at First to stop. First hits the brake right away, heart rabbiting in his chest. He even pulls the emergency brake, but before he can ask after what’s going on, Khaotung has jumped off. First shuts off the engine.
“Are you alright? You’re okay?” he hears Khaotung say. First’s heart all but stops in panic.
It’s only then that he sees, in one of the mirrors, that Earth is behind the tractor, nearly pinned to the fence. First’s entire body goes cold. He drags himself out of the cabin.
The next few minutes are a blur. Earth is totally okay, unharmed, especially since this section of the fence isn’t electrified, and he doesn’t even seem phased.
“It’s all good, dude,” he pats First’s shoulder. He’s being nonchalant, but First knows it’s a bigger deal than that. “It happens. I think that’s enough practice for today, though, huh?”
First watches as Earth drives the tractor back to its shed. He stares numbly at the spot where he almost crushed Earth and feels a wave of vertigo spin his head. Awful images of the gorey things that almost happened flash through his mind.
Khaotung squeezes his arm.
“First? Are you alright? Say something, man,” he attempts a smile. “Don’t worry about it. It happens more often than you’d think. It’s farm equipment, it’s heavy machinery. Nothing bad happened.”
First finally looks at him and seeing that comforting face breaks the dam.
“I could have killed him…”
“Well–”
“I don’t know what happened. I could have sworn I checked all my mirrors and didn’t see him, I could have killed him!”
“Now, now, don’t dwell on that, okay?” Khaotung stands in front of First and rubs his hands up and down First’s arms. He squeezes First’s shoulders and tries to meet his eyes, “First? Don’t get freaked out by this…Nothing bad happened, right? P’Earth is okay.”
First bursts into tears, his face crumpling as fear continues to clench his stomach into a ball. He tries to mumble something through his tears, but it comes out incomprehensible. Khaotung takes First’s hands in his and squeezes and rubs them, trying to comfort and calm him down at the same time.
“First…Cry it out if you need to, but listen, it’s okay, alright? Everything’s okay,” Khaotung can feel First getting more and more worked up, so he cups his face with one hand, rubbing his neck with the other, urging him to breathe and calm down.
Eventually, he hugs First and First sags into the embrace, crying on Khaotung’s shoulder. Earth returns in a four-wheeler just then. Khao beckons him over and brings him into the hug, Earth’s long arms wrapping around the two of them.
“Don’t cry, buddy,” Earth playfully nuzzles his face into First’s shoulder like a giant cat. “Are you shaken up? It’s alright! I’m totally fine! It totally happens, it’s okay. I’ve had mishaps too, everyone has. Well…except Khaotung because he’s perfect.
Khao groans and First manages a weak chuckle. They hold each other for another moment, before it gets too hot to be in such close proximity. First wipes his tears and tries to calm down.
“I should have worn a reflective vest, would have been safer. I’ll bring a few for everyone next time,” Earth says, still rubbing First’s back. “Such are the risks of running farm equipment! It happens.”
“Khao said the exact same thing. Do you memorize those lines from some kind of a secret farmer’s handbook or something?” First mumbles, finally managing a smile. His worry is slowly being replaced by embarrassment at breaking down in Khaotung’s arms. It doesn’t escape his notice that Khao was comforting him like a baby.
“And anyway, I’m not getting back into that thing ever again.”
“What!” Earth exclaims dramatically. “Nuh-uh. You’re not giving up on me just because of some small mishap.”
“Mishap?! I almost–”
“I don’t wanna hear it! You’re already good at working the tractor. Go get some rest now, clear your mind. Then we’ll talk about what went wrong, you’ll learn from it, and everything will be just fine. Okay? Okay.”
First shakes his head.
“I need a drink in me, is what I need…”
“Great idea!” Earth claps him on the shoulder hard enough to make him stumble. “Come on out to the “Drunk Stallion” tonight. Ever been? You haven’t, have you, not since you came back? Me and Khao and all the guys from the area often gather for a drink at the end of the day.”
“That’s a good idea. Come on, let’s get you inside in the air conditioning,” Khaotung guides First by the shoulders towards the four-wheeler. Once at the house, he orders First to sit himself on the couch and take some deep breaths, then brings him a can of beer and a blanket. “Get some rest. I’ll come get you around five-thirty and we’ll go to the bar together, okay?”
For once, First listens. It hardly crosses his mind not to - Khaotung always seems to know what’s best for him. After his nap, he takes a shower and tries hard not to think about the accident from earlier. Instead, he wonders if he can excuse himself from going to the “Drunk Stallion”. It’s one of Kilbett’s ancient bars, a place where he remembers his dad stopping for a drink and bringing him along as a kid. He really doesn’t want to be around seedy small-town drunk shenanigans and sweaty old men. Then again, Khao did say the place has been renovated, and First can’t imagine Earth or Khao hanging out with unpleasant characters.
Maybe it won’t be so bad, he decides.
When they get to the bar in the late afternoon, people are only just arriving. Earth isn’t here yet, but Pawin waves them over from a booth where he’s sitting with one of First’s farmhands. Waiting for his beer and fries, First looks around the establishment. It really has been cleaned up - from the decent upholstery on the booths, to the walls, now painted lighter to give the place a more open feel. The floor is kind of sticky with spilled liquor and a smell of beer permeates everything, but the place seems vaguely pleasant otherwise.
Khaotung bumps First with his shoulder.
“How are you feeling? Still shaken up? Or are you just too charmed by how much this place has changed?” he jokes.
First laughs, “I’m fine. A little hungry, just need to get some food and alcohol in my stomach and I’ll feel better.”
Khao hums and gives his back a pat. Earth arrives a moment later, just as First digs into his fries. He’s tailed by one of their neighbor farmers who First doesn’t know well but who’s always been very helpful to him. The men get to drinking and debriefing about their days, getting louder with each quarter of an hour and beer that they down. First finds himself enjoying the company way more than he expected. The men at their table are all decent and somewhat goofy guys whose idea of a good time after work is talking about their farms and the weekly happenings in the small town. Even some of the other tables, occupied by other farmers or workers from around Killbett, seem far from obnoxious.
First watches the camaraderie between the people in the bar with a strange warmth, smiles when various tables get into a contest of who can send more drinks to another table. A large short-haired woman in denim overalls walks over and deposits a giant mug full of dark ale in front of Earth.
“You need to stop that,” she wags a finger in his face. “Take this, drink it, and keep your money. I told you that if you won’t let me pay you back for the grain, you gotta let me buy you a drink every once in a while. So stop sending beer to my table because the gals are already nearing piss-drunk. Okay?”
Earth haggles with her for a little while, until she gets called back to her table where a bunch of other women in muddy farm clothes are clinking glasses.
Lesbians?? , First thinks to himself, a rainbow-colored lightbulb going off in his head. Drunk small town shenanigans have taken on a new flavor in the years that First has been away, he thinks.
The door of the bar opens with the ring of a bell and First sees a familiar face appear.
“Oh, hey, it’s Dr. Mix!” he says, waving.
Dr. Mix waves back. He looks tired.
“Finally!” Earth says.
Mix walks over to their table. First is just about to invite him to sit with them when Mix puts a hand on Earth’s back and leans in to give him a kiss on the lips.
“Hi babe. Hey everyone,” Mix says as Earth makes room in the booth.
First startles.
“Wait, you guys are together?!?” he blurts out.
“Married, actually,” Mix holds up his hand to show off the golden band on his ring finger. Earth, chewing on a french fry, does the same. Mix sits next to him in the booth, practically in Earth’s lap.
First stares in surprise and delight and wonder.
“Oh my Gosh, I didn’t realize at all, sorry,” he laughs, flustered.
He’s so busy doing that thing queer people do sometimes when they find out someone else is queer, making sure he doesn’t appear too eager or excited that Earth and Mix are married, that he doesn’t notice the careful way that Khaotung is studying his reaction to the news.
The conversation moves on while First’s tipsy brain proceeds to try to connect the dots about Earth and Dr. Mix being together.
“So,” Mix nods at First. He seems to have regained some of his vigor after demolishing Earth’s appetizer, “I heard you almost killed my husband today.”
“Oh my God,” First hides his face in his hands, cringing, while everyone around the table erupts in laughter. Khaotung rubs First’s shoulder good-naturedly.
“It’s okay,” Mix shrugs, “I’ve actually been looking for convenient ways to get rid of him and collect the insurance money, so…”
“Hey! I knew I shouldn’t have made you the beneficiary,” Earth protests. Mix looks smug and attacks Khaotung’s food next.
By the end of the night, First is very pleasantly drunk. He watches Earth get cuter and cuddlier with each drink, glued to Mix’s side. Next to First, Khaotung’s cheeks get redder and his eyes glossier.
At last, they all say goodnight and depart. First rode his horse to the bar alongside Khao, but he’s too inebriated to ride - or to puzzle over how to get home otherwise. Luckily, Khaotung is only a tipsy.
“We’ll leave Stella at the stable for you to pick up tomorrow morning, and we’ll ride my guy home,” he says. “I’ll drop you off. Come on.”
First tips the stable boy at the bar’s stables generously for looking after his horse, then does his best to pull himself up on the saddle behind Khao. When he doesn’t succeed, Khao dismounts and helps push him up onto the horse.
Out in the warm evening air, First takes in the (blurry) sight of the sleepy town’s lights and smiles. Perhaps it’s the alcohol speaking, but for the first time in a while he feels like he’s home.
“Are you holding on? You’re slouching off the saddle, I can feel it,” Khaotung warns as they set off on the stretch of country road between downtown Killbett and their respective farms. He pulls one of First’s arms around his waist. “First, don’t fall asleep. Hold on, okay?”
First acknowledges him with a contented sigh. He wraps his arms around Khaotung’s waist and rests his cheek on the soft fabric of his shirt. His gaze slides along the rim of Khao’s hat, down his handsome profile.
First closes his eyes and listens to the song of crickets filling the warm night air.
When he opens them again, it’s because they’ve stopped - in front of First’s front door. He looks around blearily, realizing he fell asleep. There’s peace in his chest, pressing on his lungs like a weighted blanket. It’s a rare feeling: like tonight, this moment in the warm summer dark, is all the assurance First could ever need that everything will be alright.
Khaotung pats First’s thigh. He throws him a small smile over his shoulder as First picks himself up and tries to wipe sleep from his eyes.
“Sleeping beauty finally awakes…”
First laughs. Woozily, he tries to climb off the horse and lands mostly on his feet. He sees Khao shaking his head, so he offers a hand to help him down and winks.
“Come tuck me in, cowboy.”
The next morning, First wakes up with a hangover. The crisp morning air helps chase the headache a bit, though he wishes the animals could be quiet just this once. He carries buckets of food and mucks a few stalls while trying to remember how last night ended. Nothing more comes to him than the pleasant memory of the horse ride home and the vague sense that Khaotung was very gentle with him when they said their goodbyes. He feels warmth in his chest and hopes he didn’t do anything to embarrass himself.
Khaotung doesn’t volunteer to enlighten him either, the next time they see each other. First is too nervous to ask, lest he did do something cringy.
Over the coming days, First mulls over recent experiences. He feels more and more at ease in Kilbett, like he never has before, warmer even towards P’Earth and Dr. Mix and, of course, Khaotung. Khao has been ribbing him over his aversion to social media, and First finally gives in and reactivates his Instagram.
Khaotung’s Instagram feed makes First’s heart stutter like it hasn’t in a while. Scrolling through recent photos of Khao’s farm or aesthetic selfies taken in nature, First comes across posts overflowing with color. Khao, with Earth and Mix and a few other people, at what is unmistakably a Pride parade. Rainbow flags painted on his cheeks, lips stretched in a joyful, gorgeous smile, a tight tank top hugging his chest. Happiness exuding from him as he pets a dog in a rainbow bandana or leans in to be hugged by a drag queen. Face twisted in comical disgust as Earth and Mix kiss next to him. Winking at the camera in a pose so sexy that it makes First close the app and put his phone away immediately.
First sits on his porch and lets it all sink in. He ponders what he just saw, thinks about all that’s happened between him and Khao, and wonders what comes next.
Things get even more complicated the following week. Khaotung suggests they both take a day off and spend some time going into the big city. Mark is generous enough to take care of chores on both their farms, while First and Khaotung go shopping. They even make plans to meet Mix and Earth for dinner. First is excited for a change of pace, but he gets quite concerned about his own wellbeing when Khaotung comes to pick him up and he’s all fashionable and stylish and looks nothing like his everyday plaid and jeans combo. He’s not even wearing anything that special, but it’s so different, so… not farm-wear that First is a little floored.
In the city, they quickly fall into a fun rhythm of going shop to shop and stopping for snacks. It’s such a welcome new experience, seeing Khaotung in this very different element, looking for perfume or jewelry or a winter coat. When does he even get to wear these things? Maybe when he goes out on dates…
The only trouble is that Khaotung walks fast - and a lot - and First just isn’t in shape for that, or interested in racking up this many miles on his day off. He finally strikes a deal with Khaotung that he’ll walk with him a little longer, but only if they stop for a massage and a long lunch. And then at the massage parlor they get asked if they’re interested in the couples’ massage packet and they both get quiet and awkward and later, lunch becomes an interesting experience.
Something undeniable is happening between them, yet First would rather pretend he doesn’t see it. He’s just an almost middle-aged guy fumblingly figuring out how to farm and settle into his new lifestyle…he’s not boyfriend material, especially not for a gorgeous and oh-so-capable man like Khaotung.
Still, some part of him has the prudence to stay on the right track and make all the right moves.
Every year, the Rattanakitpaisarn farm opens its doors to families from the area to enjoy a day on the land and watch sheep get shorn. It’s a mini-festival of sorts, with neighbor farmers setting up tables to sell their produce or baked and canned goods. This year, “Edin & Somporn” is represented by P’Earth who seems to enjoy playing salesman and handing pastries. Meanwhile, Doctor Mix is stationed at the rabbit shed, teaching kids how to properly care for bunnies and letting them use his stethoscope. It takes significant effort to put the event on, so First doesn’t hesitate for a second to volunteer to coordinate the whole thing while Khaotung focuses on the sheep-shearing.
In the days leading up to Sheep-shearing Day, First spends hours planning the logistics with Khao’s family, under Mrs. Janya’s guidance. Khaotung seems pleased and mildly embarrassed, as if he’s shirking responsibility. First assures him that it’s his pleasure.
On the day of the event, all goes without a hitch. Sure, two sheep break free, sending half a dozen farmers on a mad chase through the woods, and a food truck knocks over a lamp post, but those are par for course. First is in his element all day long, pleased to help Khaotung - the whole family, really - provide an exceptional experience for the town. Even more pleased to watch Khao in his element, decked out in an all-denim farming outfit, his finest hat perched on his head, handling sheep with expert ease. He flashes brilliant smiles to all watching, and First can’t get enough.
A little later, he makes a detour to the food area, then cajoles Khaotung to take a breather. First hands him a paper plate with braised duck baos and an ice cold beer. Khao pauses before accepting them, eyes bulging at the sight. His stomach growls at the perfect moment and First laughs.
“Damn...You know your way to a man’s heart,” he says and sits down heavily on an upturned milk crate, stuffing food in his face. First pretends he didn’t hear anything.
When the event is over, First helps with tear-down. Khao’s dad fires up the barbecue and cooks dinner while everyone is cleaning up. With the sun dropping below the horizon, its rays bend and curve in one of those magical ways that lights up the clouds in gorgeous pinks and magentas. First leans against a fence pole to take a breather and watch the sky. The aroma of sizzling meat tickles his stomach while Khaotung’s off-key whistling makes him smile. A feeling of contentment and belonging creeps up inside First’s chest.
“I can’t wait to go sit somewhere in silence. Today was crazy,” Khaotung says quietly after dinner. He rubs his temples while First pats his back.
“Why don’t you come over for a beer? I won’t talk your ear off, I swear.”
Khaotung slowly meets First’s gaze. He nods with an appreciative smile.
The night sky is crystal clear tonight, blessedly free of light pollution. The number of stars winking down at the farm is overwhelming. Khaotung heaves a contented sigh while watching the heavens. He smiles when First steps out on to the patio.
“Pepperjack-stuffed pretzel bites. Fresh out of the microwave,” he announces. He sets a plate and two cans of beer down on the small table next to Khaotung.
“Mmmm. You prove your baking prowess once more,” Khaotung says.
“Right…” First drops in the patio chair next to Khao’s. They’re both well aware that the pretzels are not only store-bought, but are also probably a little freezer burned from sitting in First’s fridge for a while.
They sit and snack in silence, letting their minds empty and rest after the buzz of the day. Khaotung brings out another set of beers.
“Thanks for your help today. I really do appreciate it. Means a lot,” he looks into First’s eyes.
First waves his hand, “I told you it’s no problem. It was my pleasure. You’re always helping me out, always supporting me. Today was the least I could do.”
Khaotung smiles. He works a thumb into his right palm.
“I’m so sore… My hands are cramping up. Should we go into the city tomorrow and go to the spa?”
“Sure! I’m free. But for now, give me your hand,” First wiggles his fingers and accepts Khaotung’s warm hand. “I’ll give you a massage. It’ll help at least for now.”
He strokes the tender muscles of Khao’s palm, under Khao’s thoughtful and affectionate gaze. He massages every finger pad and stretches out the joints, digs his knuckles into the sore flesh. Khaotung’s soft sounds of pleasure gratify him.
“Wow, you really know how to do this, huh?” Khaotung exhales.
“Yep. My mother was a masseuse, I don’t know if you remember. She taught me how to give her hand massages, since she got very sore from work. My dad too.”
Khaotung takes a beat to respond.
“I really am very glad you came today,” Khaotung repeats. His voice is quiet in a way that sends a shiver down First’s spine. He suddenly realizes just how close they have leaned in to each other.
His fingers slow. His heart speeds up.
When First lifts his gaze, Khaotung is already there to meet his eyes. He moves closer and pauses, a moment of confirmation. First leans in imperceptibly. Khaotung closes the distance between their faces and kisses First.
With the press of their lips, First is flooded with warmth. He kisses Khaotung again and again, slow and soft despite a flood of desire unleashed in his chest. His palm cups Khao’s face, thumb stroking his cheekbone. Khao’s lips are plush and loving.
They part. First keeps his eyes closed for a few long moments, not ready to look at Khaotung or face reality.
When he opens them, Khaotung is smiling. His eyes are sparkling with so much warmth and earnest.
“You’re a really difficult man to seduce, you know,” Khaotung says, thumb stroking the back of First’s hand.
First stares.