Chapter Text
Pran would say he was living a fairly good life. He had a career with a well paying salary, his own apartment with a beautiful view over Bangkok's landscape, and a boyfriend.
When he planned out how he wanted his life, this was what he had hoped for. Even his mother was really proud of him, always gushing about him to their neighbors and the rest of their family.
There were a few hijinks perhaps. Maybe Pran had hoped music would play more of a role. But instead his guitar stood and collected dust. (Figuratively. Pran would never let it actually get dusty, as he kept his apartment perfectly clean.) Perhaps he had also recently and very reluctantly admitted to himself that he was lonely. The few friends he had were starting their own families and were often busy. In addition, Pran was fairly certain that his so-called boyfriend was cheating on him. No, he knew so.
The knowledge didn't hurt so much anymore as it made him angry. Pran had been absolutely perfect, and it was Liam's loss. When he came around and begged for forgiveness Pran would finally get the satisfaction of kicking him out of his life properly.
If the apartment complex had allowed pets then a dog would probably be better company than that man.
Today in particular was also made worse by the heavy rain as he walked back from the office. Not uncommonly he had stayed late, so it was already dark outside. Having, naturally, checked the weather before leaving he had brought an umbrella. The only thing keeping him from getting drenched.
As the apartment complex came into view he felt relieved. He could already start to imagine himself as he finally got inside. First he would take a shower and then cook the meal he had prepared the ingredients for. He would then sit down with a cup of tea and continue watching the show that-
Pran's thoughts were cut short as he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Barely sheltered from the rain was a large moving box. It still seemed damp. Though most importantly it shouldn't be there, loitering right outside the entrance.
With no one around that seemed to want to take responsibility, Pran wandered up to it with a scowl on his face. On closer inspection he noticed that the top wasn't even closed properly. Clicking his tongue he easily flipped the folds open and looked inside.
There was a body. A man to be exact.
Panic immediately filled Pran's body. Because… what the fuck.
Though he quickly noticed that he seemed to be breathing, most likely sleeping, with even regular breaths. The dark hair was greatly tousled and covered most of his face from view, but Pran could still see a scrape on his chin. His clothes were also dirty, torn, and damp.
Frantically Pran searched for his phone. Though just as he tried to turn it on he let out a small curse. Right, he had forgotten to charge it while at work. He knew that. But it was terribly inconvenient now.
The curse seemed to have startled the, supposedly, sleeping man. As there were some small movements.
Pran debated what to do. Surely he couldn't just leave the man like this. He seemed hurt, and would definitely get sick if he stayed like this too. Yet what did that mean? Was he really going to bring this stranger up to his apartment?
It wasn't until his eyes met with a pair of brown ones he realized that the man had turned his head to look at him, mouth slightly agape.
“Why are you sleeping in a box…”
The confused look on the dirty man's face turned into scowl. “Maybe I want to.”
The cheer audacity of that response ticked Pran off to no end. Here he was considering helping out the other, but instead he was met with that.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
The man opened his mouth to respond but as his knee suddenly rubbed against the inside of the box he winced silently.
It was then that Pran noticed, properly, the expression the other had. He seemed… scared and worried. The corner of his eyes tinted red and slightly swollen like he had been crying. They were also slightly glazed over, a sign that could mean he was running a fever.
A pang shot through his chest.
“You can't stay here… you will get sick.”
“I don't have anywhere else to go.”
When Pran didn't respond immediately the stranger shook his head slightly, and letting out a huff he turned his head back to the side.
“You can… you can stay the night at my place.” Given how the body in the box tensed immediately at the suggestion he seemed just as shocked as Pran felt. Despite Pran having been the one to say it.
His eyes met with the brown pair again, this time they were filled with hope. Pran couldn't help but feel pity for the other at the sight.
“I can? Really? Are you sure?” The stranger sat up, staring up at Pran with big eyes. It reminded Pran of a dog. Though a big and wet one.
“I'm sure.”
And that's how Pran ended up with a dirty and wet stranger he picked up on the streets in his clean and pristine apartment.
As they took the elevator Pran had a chance to glance him over. In addition to the scrape on his chin, he also had a bruise forming on his cheek beneath his left eye. There was also a big scrape over his knee where his pants were torn. Pran also noticed how he seemed to walk a bit sluggish as well.
The second they entered the apartment Pran forced the man to take a shower. Just the idea of him walking around in those dirty rags he calls clothes in the clean apartment makes him feel nauseous. He picks out a set of his own clothes for the other to borrow temporarily. Pran was only a centimeter or two shorter so he figured they would have the same size.
It turned out that Pran wasn't entirely wrong with his assumption, but definitely also not right. The loose pants were just fine, but the shirt… Length wise it was fine but in comparison to sitting rather loosely on Pran, the arms of it were snug around the man's shoulders and upper arms.
Clearly, he worked out more than Pran did. Pran was not afraid to admit that the stranger was attractive and good looking. Although not out loud of course. Instead he addressed another matter.
“Take a seat on the couch. I'll tend to your wounds.”
Pran had already brought his first aid kit while waiting for the other to finish.
“Right. Thank you!” Somehow seeming a lot more energetic, the man wandered over and promptly sat down on the couch.
“I wouldn't want it to get infected.”
Pulling out some supplies, Pran started tending to the knee. As always, he was meticulous, making sure he got it properly clean and disinfected.
“Were you in a fight or something?” he muttered, eyes never leaving the wound.
“Yeah, something like that.” Pran could tell he was holding back. Not wanting to admit to the pain he must be feeling as Pran cleaned the wound.
“And you got your ass beaten.”
“Oh no. You should see the other guy!”
Pran could only shake his head. “I think I'm fine, thank you.”
Even if Pran couldn’t see it he felt the way the stranger’s eyes lingered on him, how his eyes seemed to drill a hole straight through him. He allowed himself a glance up, only to be met with intense eyes, wide, and unapologetic in the way they stared. As if burned by them Pran quickly looked down again, an odd feeling spreading through his chest. If his heartbeat increased ever so slightly, he chose to ignore it.
“There. Knee done,” he said after having worked in silence for the next few minutes. Still very much aware of the eyes on him.
“Thank you nurse Siridechawat,” the stranger said teasingly. Though the name had Pran tense up. He hadn't told the other his name yet so how come he knew.
“How do you know my name?” Suddenly he felt defensive, and a bit worried.
The look in the other's face was that of confusion. Likely due to the sudden animosity in Pran's voice. “Said on your door. ‘P. Siridechawat’.”
Pran felt like an idiot. Of course the other would have seen his name on the door. He could read.
Trying to distract himself from the embarrassment he moved up to clean the scrape on the stranger's chin. Though the moment his fingertips made contact with the other's face he noticed something.
“Oh- you are burning up! Why didn't you say something?”
So he had been right when he thought the other had a fever earlier. For a second he had forgotten about that. After the shower he seemed alright after all.
“I thought it might be hot in here, or perhaps that it was just you.”
Had it not been for the clear bruise on the other's face Pran might have hit him. “You can't seriously be flirting with me right now?”
When the other opened his mouth to respond, Pran stopped him by showing a thermometer into it, and used a hand under his chin to force the jaw up. Though somehow the stranger still seemed smug despite the thing hanging out of his now closed mouth.
When the thermometer let out a small beep Pran snatched it right out of the stranger's mouth. Looking at the result, the other definitely had a fever. Though it wasn’t as bad as Pran had feared. A good night’s rest and he would probably be alright.
The man just sat in silence as Pran quickly treated the scrape on his chin and put some bruise cream on his cheek. After Pran had found his package of cooling patches and some pills for the fever he glanced over the other again.
“Just get some rest. I’m going to take a shower and then prepare dinner.”
The smile he got in return wasn’t as wide, but it was still a sweet one. An appreciative one. Then the stranger opened his mouth and ruined the moment.
“But… what if I’m bored?”
“Just lie down and rest.”
“I can help with dinner though!”
“No. Rest.” Pran tried to sound more stern when the man didn’t seem to want to listen.
“Yes sir.” He was given a small salute before the man finally laid down, quickly snuggling himself into the blanket Pran had given him. It reminded Pran of a burrito.
The shower itself was nice. There was always a relief getting to wash away the heaviness of a long day. Both in a physical sense but also a metaphorical one. It allowed him to relax and recharge, disconnecting him from what had transpired. It wasn’t quite as effective today, since the biggest thing on his mind wouldn’t be gone just by a shower.
Pran took slightly longer than normal, a part of him wanting to remain in the bathroom and pretend that this was all a weird dream. Though he knew he was just delaying the inevitable.
Going back into the living room he wasn’t sure what to expect. It was completely silent, save for a very faint sound of someone breathing softly. A peek over the back of the couch was all he needed to see that the other was sleeping. He had moved though. One arm almost straight up against the back of the couch, and one of his legs halfway off the couch dragging the blanket with it. It was barely covering the man’s lower body. His remaining hand was hugging one of the couch pillows.
For a second Pran just stared. It wasn’t like the man would know about it, so it was fine. Surely. The way he was sprawled over the couch was rather silly looking, though in an adorable and endearing way. Just as he had noticed earlier he was well built. His face was also very attractive, and despite his well built body his cheeks had a softness to them that made them look very squeezable.
Taking the blanket Pran pulled it up again and tucked the stranger in properly.
Pran shook his head and reluctantly forced himself to go to the kitchen. Come morning he would need to kick this man out of the apartment. There was no reason to get attached just because he was handsome. There was no reason to learn his name if he was never going to see him again.
While cooking he was somewhat able to distract himself. Even to such a degree where he started to hum slightly on a song he had heard on the radio earlier. The kitchen was his safe space. It had always been. Some of his fondest memories growing up had been him and his mother in the kitchen, cooking together. It was still something they did on the regular.
He had had different plans for dinner initially, but decided to change them to some Tom Yum soup. It was what his mother always made for him when he was sick. Though Pran did decrease the level of spice somewhat, wanting to make it easier on the stomach. Even if that didn’t taste as good in Pran’s opinion.
He did glance over to the couch a few times, but he was also greeted with the sight of the man sleeping.
It wasn’t until he was almost done, the scent of the soup filling the apartment, that he heard some movement. Though he ignored it at first in favor of taking out some bowls.
“That smells good! What are you making?” The man sounded a bit tired even through his curiosity.
“Tom Yum soup.”
“Shit, really?”
Before Pran has a chance to reply the man has waltzed over to the kitchen to confirm it himself. Pran is just about to push him away, because he doesn’t want a sick man in his kitchen, when the stranger spoke again.
“Woah it really is! My mom used to make that for me when I was sick, did you know.”
Pran couldn’t quite understand the excitement. Why did the man look at him and speak like this was some sort of miracle, or fate at play? It was such a typical meal to make for someone that was sick. It would have been Pran’s first guess. Still, Pran couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“No. But it’s fairly common,” he replies rather plainly to the other’s excitement. Pran points towards the kitchen table. “Go and take a seat please. It’s almost done.”
The brown eyes linger on Pran for a second longer than what Pran would consider normal, before the stranger nods with an affirmative hum and smile and heads to the table. Soon enough Pran joins him as well with two portions of the soup. He doesn’t even have time to say that he hopes the other will like it before the stranger has put a spoonful in his mouth.
“Be careful it’s hot…,” he mutters even though he knows that it’s too late.
The man seemed to barely care. Eyes lighting up and staring at Pran like he had just tasted the best food he had ever had.
“This is amazing! It tastes so good. Are you a chef?”
“I’m not.” The compliment makes Pran feel ridiculously happy. He rarely cooks for other people so he doesn’t get to hear it often. There is a flutter in his chest, suddenly feeling a bit bashful. “I uhm… I just like to cook. Is all… I’m an architect.”
“Huh. That’s still cool though!” Pran watches as the other takes another spoonful before continuing, barely swallowing before speaking again. “It’s pretty spicy though. The soup I mean.”
Pran can’t help but think about how he purposely made it less spicy. How weak of a stomach did this guy have if he barely could take this much? Pran supposed he would have to take that into consideration. Or not. This was the only time he would make dinner for this guy. This was not something he had to remember.
“Anything famous that you have been involved with I might know of?”
They continued to talk through the dinner. The stranger was surprisingly good company and a good talker. Easily he carried the conversation, asking questions and listening to Pran’s responses like they genuinely mattered to him. The jokes he made were on the cornier side, but Pran didn’t mind it. Especially when the jokes made the man grin widely. He had a nice smile.
He also complimented Pran twice more for his cooking skills. Though one of those times was brought on due to Pran complaining about his slurping and bad manners. Apparently the man said it was a way to show appreciation and that a meal tasted good.
It made no sense in Pran’s head. What kind of compliment could bad table manners be?
Afterwards the stranger offered to help with the dishes, but Pran just ushered him back to the couch to rest. He did fish out the remote for the television. If the man wanted to watch something on the tv he could, but Pran had asked him to keep the volume on the lower side. Finally, Pran was planning to head to bed. He had another long day at work tomorrow to look forward to. For that he really needed sleep.
He wished the man a good night’s sleep before heading off into his own bedroom. Fairly soon he fell asleep to the faint sound of the television in the other room.
–
Pran had a very specific morning routine. Always the same everyday. Following it made it easier while he was still waking up, no real thinking required. It was also a good way to make sure he didn’t forget about anything as he was prone to do. There was a reason he made a lot of physical reminders for himself.
This morning he broke that routine. Normally he would only get changed after breakfast. However he didn’t feel comfortable walking around in pajamas with another person in his apartment. The second thing he changed was the breakfast itself. On a normal workday he would most often just grab a sandwich with some condensed milk. Only on the way to work would he pick up something more substantial that he could eat. Today though, he decided to prepare some rice congee. It would be more nutritious than some bread.
The man checked his temp again, and his fever thankfully seemed to be gone. The scrape on both his chin and knee were healing well. Though the bruise on his cheek now looked worse as it started to turn all shades of blue and green. As expected however.
It did mean that Pran didn’t have to feel guilty about sending out a sick and injured man from his apartment. He had done what he could.
The last thing Pran had said before heading out and leaving the stranger in his apartment was, “Your clothes are on the drying rack on the balcony. You can leave as soon as you are ready, don’t wait for me to come back.”
Even afterwards, as he was sitting at his desk trying to desperately focus on his work, he couldn’t quite get rid of the disappointed look on the man’s face when he had said it. It was ridiculous really, how horrible it made Pran feel. Even worse, it distracted him from work. Very important work.
The feeling continued throughout the day. He lost focus during a meeting, having to embarrass himself and ask a client to repeat themselves. He very nearly spilled coffee all over his desk. He also, frustratingly, had absolutely no appetite.
When he was finally heading home, once again long after the sun had set, he was in an even worse mood than when he had been heading home yesterday. All he wanted was to get home, order in some unhealthy fast food and sit down and watch some sad movie in his now cold and empty apartment.
He really was pathetic wasn’t he…
Unlocking the door as usual he didn’t at first think much about the light in the living room still being on. He didn’t even think about the fact that there was an extra pair of shoes in his shoe rack. He just put his own away.
“Hi! You are back!”
Pran froze immediately on the spot, eyes big as he stared at the man in front of him. The man he had never expected to see again because he had explicitly told him to leave before he left. The man with such a bright and warm smile that made all of Pran’s frustrations just melt away on the spot.
“You… are still here…”
“Yeah, about that...” The smile on the stranger’s lips faltered. Suddenly looking rather shy and hesitant. “Are you sure I couldn’t stay for a bit longer? I could help out with things. I can help you clean or… or pretend to be your brother or… boyfriend or something. Please.”
Pran was stunned because how do you even respond to that. There was no way he could accept such an arrangement. Although a brief idea of using the stranger to get back at Liam did pass his mind. Not that he would ever go through with that.
“Why would I want that…?”
“Come on. I can do anything honestly! I can be like your maid or whatever you want. Anything.”
“Anything?” Pran raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe that for a second.
It seemed that the stranger took that as a challenge. Taking a step closer, there was something in his eyes. Something that was daring Pran to state his terms.
Which was ridiculous. The whole thing was ridiculous. The only thing Pran could think about was stating something equally ridiculous that would make the other leave on the spot. Looking into the man’s eyes, Pran couldn’t deny that there was some tension. So he decided to try it, just how desperate and up for a challenge the man was.
“Then… if you want to stay… be my pet.”
He watched the man’s eyes widen, and think about the suggestion. Pran could basically see the wheels turning in his head.
“Like… a dog?” he sounded hesitant.
“I suppose. If you aren’t up for it you can leave.” Soon this would be over. Soon Pran would get rid of the man and he could go back to his lonely life. At least that’s what he thought.
“Sure. I’m game.” Taking a step closer, now invading Pran’s personal space, the man grinned wide. “Deal.”
Pran watched the closed fist he was offered to bump. He almost backtracked. He almost said that it was just a joke and how dumb could the man be to think anything else. But then he met the other’s eyes. They were daring, challenging Pran again.
Pran did not like losing.
“Deal.” His fist bumped into Pat’s. “My name is Pran, for the record.”
“Nice to meet you Pran. I’m Pat.”