Chapter Text
Pat looked around at his almost empty apartment. He had two cardboard boxes, one giant luggage, and a big backpack in his living room.
He already sent some of his belongings yesterday to Pran’s address, and he was going to take the rest of it in his car when he's driving to Pran this weekend.
Ping!
A message in his phone, he took it from his pocket, with a smile on his face. It's from Pran.
Pran
So? How was it?
Pat
Pa still doesn't want to talk to me. Ma looked like she wanted to hug me but finally she looked away. My meeting with the last client went well today. He wanted to work with me again next month even if I'm not with Pa anymore.
Pat
Oh, and it's been two months. I miss you so much, baby.
Pran
You've been a great son and employee, Pat. It's their loss.
You did a great job and know that I am so proud of you.
PS: hang in there, two more days, okay?
Pat sighed, looking at Pran’s profile picture, it was taken by him minutes before Pat hopped on to the bus that took him back to Bangkok nearly two months ago.
Pran sat on his scooter, waving his hand at Pat, the same hand that wrapped around his waist gently earlier while introducing Pat to his uncle and said, “This is Pat, my boyfriend.”
He really missed Pran.
Pat
Please know that I love you so much and can you please please please stop making me cry?
Pat
And how about you? How was your day?
Pran
It was good. My uncle's friend has a place on the beach and we can take a look at it sometime this month. I'll send you the pictures later. It's pretty and I think I can afford it.
And I love you too, you crybaby.
Pat
We. We can afford it.
Pran
Oh God sometimes I forget just how stubborn you are. Okay. We. We can afford it.
Pat
Good.
And do you need anything from Bangkok? Anything that you miss? The noodles from the shop behind the park? A fancy post-it note? New guitar strings?
Pran
Nope. Just you.
Pat
Sap.
Pran
You have no idea.
I still owe you something, tho.
Pat tilted his head in confusion. Pran did not owe him anything, he thought. He couldn’t recall anything related to that from their last meeting.
Pat
What?
Pran
A song. Because I lost the bet 10 years ago. Do you remember?
Pat
YES, YOU DO OWE ME A SONG!
Now where is my song, King Parakul?
Pran
I can send it to you as long as you swear that you won't call me King Parakul for the rest of our lives.
Pat smiled. ‘The rest of our lives’ sounded so good.
Pat
Cross my heart.
Pran
Now don't laugh and please remember that I wrote this at 16.
🎧 Audio - I Crave You
Pat clicked on the audio file and sat down on his couch, the sweet melody of Pran’s guitar played on his phone. Then, Pran’s teenage voice was heard. It was raw, this might be recorded 10 years ago, but still, the agony was clear in his voice.
Perhaps he cried, perhaps he was just so angry. He wished he could turn back the time and hugged this Pran.
But he couldn't, so he would do the second best thing, which was kissing the Pran that he knew right now. The Pran that had become his boyfriend.
Tears on his face and he wished that he could be in Pran’s arms right now.
The song finished with Pran’s exhale.
So Pat decided to call him and thanked him.
For waiting. And loving him.
The End
The audio file went like this:
[Pran cleared his throat, and with a raspy voice he said this.]
Dear Pat, since you won the bet, so, I guess, this is your song.
[Melancholy guitar strum]
Week three, guess I no longer gaze
The stars, twinkling, daring me to hope
Week three, setting my soul ablaze
Why rain, why storm, why don’t you come
Week three, oh baby take me back
To the promise whispered between our fingers
Week three, tell me how could I forget
Your tears, my tears, lingered on our lips
This little voice of mine, would you please listen
I crave you
The warmth of your kiss
I crave you
Your touch, what a bliss
Not a single day goes by
Without me singing a lullaby
Asking, begging, rattling my chain
For one chance that we can meet again
[Loud exhale, the recording stopped]