Chapter Text
Before long, the white lace spread had disappeared under a spread of modern fine porcelain, each dish more lavish than the last.It was a feast.
“Phi, can we even finish all these?” Namping’s mouth watered watching the dishes being served one by one.
Harit let out a quiet chuckle “Just think of it as a reward for surviving the week.”
Namping stared at him, amused. “P’ Keng, It’s only Monday.”
“Our reward for surviving Monday then.” Both of them laughed.
The atmosphere was light, far from the usual formality that accompanied the business meetings, or the careful exchanges in formal parties. Tonight, smiles came easily.
Namping folded his long sleeve neatly to his elbows, getting ready to peel his first shrimp. Across from him, Harit slipped off his suit jacket and loosened his cuff links.
Namping paid him a little attention, reaching for a large piece of the shellfish, but before he could even touch it, Harit caught his wrist. “I’ll peel it for you, you’ll stain your shirt.”
“It’s okay, Phi. I’m going straight home afterwards anyway.” He replied, reaching towards the platter once more.
Harit clicked a tongue in disapproval, nudging the plate beside him, where Namping couldn’t reach it.
Namping blinked, Now what is his problem?
“Okay?” Namping leaned back on his seat, awkwardly watching Harit peeling away the shell with precise ease, placing it onto Namping’s plate, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
Namping toyed on the prawn on his plate, waiting for Harit to start eating, but instead the man reached for another piece without thinking.
“How’s your Por ?” Harit spoke, his attention still fixed on the shellfish in his hands.
“He’s alright,” Namping replied, looking up from his plate. ”He’s basically doing everything now.”
“Seems like he’s enjoying retirement.”
“He really is.” The thought made Namping smile. “He was a farmer last month, this month he’s convinced he can build a motorcycle from scratch."
Harit let out a quiet laugh. “Good for him. How about your brother?” He asked again, putting another peeled shrimp into Namping’s plate. “He’s still studying right?”
Namping nod. “He’s currently in his third year.”
“What is he taking? Business?”
Namping laughed, shaking his head. “That kid wouldn’t survive a single business lecture, he’ll sleep through class.”
“That’s a no then.” Harit grinned.
“No, He’s studying Multimedia Arts.”
“I see, it runs in the family.” Another piece of prawn landed on his plate. This time, Namping reached for a serving spoon and placed a portion of pla rad prik onto Harit’s plate in return. “You should start eating too, Phi.”
A small smile curved into Harit’s lips. “Thank you.”
The gesture was ordinary, but somehow it made Harit’s chest feel strangely warm.
How he wished this night could last a little longer.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
The gentle, muffled sound of hammered dulcimer filled the room, while the two of them savored every bite. The melody drifted softly between the conversations.
They probably had talked about anything there is to talk about. From how Namping used to be a cheerleader in college, to the countless Lakorn references he somewhat managed to remember, up to the shocking discovery that Harit is apparently clueless about the existence of TikTok.
“Drag Race? Like driving cars?” Harit was absolutely clueless of what Namping was talking about.
Why would a show be called Drag Race if there are no cars involved?
“No, Phi,” Namping had to stop himself from laughing. “That's a different kind of drag race.”
Harit’s brow furrowed. “Then why is it called that?”
“Because..” Namping paused, realizing how hard it will be to explain it to someone that doesn’t even know TikTok. “Okay, first of all, it’s not about cars, it’s a competition.”
Harit made an even more confused face, like nothing is genuinely making sense. While Namping is trying his hardest not to laugh at his boss’ confused face.
“So like in a race?”
“Nooo,” Namping shook his head. “There are these different themes where they need to showcase their works,and then the bottom two would lip sync.” He is trying so hard for it to be understandable.
Harit stared at him. “That only made it sound more confusing than it is.” Namping covered his mouth, he’s slowly losing the battle against his own laughter. “Then why is it called a Drag Race?” That was his last straw. Namping’s laugh echoed through the room.
“Because, it’s a competition between Drag Queens!” Namping’s about to lose all his air from laughing, while Harit was there watching him in complete disbelief.
“I don’t understand why you’re laughing.” Harit frowned slightly.
“Your confused face is so funny, Phi.” Namping wiped the side of his eyes. Who would have believed this was the CEO of one of Thailand’s largest consumer goods company.
When the high of laughter ended, Namping sat up straight, “How about you Phi?” He asked.
“What about me?”
“What do you do on weekends?” A smile crept in Namping’s lips. “I have been talking nonstop, my voice is about to be hoarse.”
The two of them have spent years working together everyday. They have seen each other far more times than anyone else. Naturally, the both of them had learned the most basic things between each other, anything that a normal couple should know about. But still there’s a distinct barrier among who they are inside and outside of their shared bubble.
“Uhmm..” Harit started thinking. Not because he’s careful of what to say, but because he really doesn’t do a lot. “I watch football.”
Namping was anticipating more, “You watch football? And?”
“I play football.”
Namping grinned, taking a sip of his coconut water. “Wow, you really don’t do anything else.
That made Harit laugh. “I know, I’m a boring person.”
“Maybe I can invite you sometimes, Phi. We can go to cafes and stuff. My friend owns a beautiful cafe near the Central Embassy—.” Namping paused. The words came out before he could even think about them. Is he inviting his boss out?
Namping’s smile froze. Harit seems to be busy with his plate, maybe he didn’t hear it, he hoped he did not. He hoped the invitation would just dissolve into the background of their conversation.
But considering they are not even a meter apart, Harit heard him loud and clear.
An obvious smile appeared on Harit's face. “I’ll look forward to that.”
It was almost eight in the evening when they had finished eating.
There must have been something in the coconut water, because the moment they stood up from the table, Harit seemed to be extra attentive. From the moment they walked out of the room to the time they reached the bakery outside, Harit’s hand never left the small of Namping’s back. He didn't mind though, not even a little. It was just there, resting lightly, gently guiding him, like he couldn’t quite bear to lose him.
A row of colorful desserts lined on the display. Namping figured he should bring something home. He was looking intently choosing what to buy when someone bent slightly beside him, examining the desserts too.
“I think Por would enjoy those khanom chan.” Harit said, pointing at the vibrant green steamed layer cake.
“You think so?” Namping asked, looking at Harit, still studying the rows of dessert with complete concentration.
The corner of Namping’s mouth twitched into a small smile.
Not because the dessert seemed to be the perfect choice. But because of the fact that Harit cared enough. He cared enough to stand beside him and think about what his father would like, even for something so small like a box of sweets.
It was such a small gesture, but it meant more than Namping expected.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
The car ride home was far more comfortable, without the awkwardness from earlier.
“For real,” Harit recounted with a laugh. “We were trying so hard to fit the three of us in the motorcycle. It crashed into the gutter. We called P’ Zee to get us in the hospital so we could avoid scolding, but he ended up scolding us even more.”
“What did he say?”
“Why were there three idiots on one motorcycle in the first place?”
Namping, on the passenger seat, was laughing so hard his stomach hurt. He could picture it; highschooler Harit, riding a motorcycle with Khun Net and P’ Latte, then the three of them getting scolded by Khun Zee afterwards.
“How did Mae react when you got home?” Namping asked, still grinning.
“She was hysterical.” Harit chuckled. “Imagine, I was bruised, P’ Net had a broken arm and Latte was limping. I thought I would never be allowed to get my license.”
“You drove without a license?!” Namping turned in his seat with wide eyes.
Harit only laughed as Namping gripped at his seatbelt. “Ping, that was, like, ten years ago. Come on” Namping burst into another fit of laughter.
It was strange. Not in a bad way. But it was strange that somehow all those years, this feels like the first time they truly have known each other.
Namping was told countless stories about Harit. He has heard all sorts of stories from his Mae, from his Aunties, yet hearing it directly from Harit feels different.
Like it was raw, unpolished, unplanned. The Harit that he had always heard about has learned to read at age three, was a diligent student, and never missed a piano practice. Every story painted him as independent, capable, and impossibly put together.
But the Harit he just heard, wasn’t. This Harit proudly laughs at his own stupidity, this Harit exaggerates every embarrassing moment just to make Namping laugh even more. This Harit was not concerned with looking foolish.
For all the stories Namping had heard, no one had ever told him about this Harit.
But why? Because out of all those Harits?, he thinks he likes this one the most.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
The black sedan pulled over in front of Namping’s home. But for a few seconds, neither of them moved, like they both had no plan of letting the night end.
Namping finally gathered the strength to broke the silence. “Uhm.. Phi..” But before he could even finish, Harit turned off the engine and stepped out of the car. He walked towards Namping’s side and opened the door for him, placing his hand on the door frame.
Namping climbed out, and for the second time, the two of them lingered there, neither willing to be the first to say goodbye.
“Oh, before I forgot.” Harit reached into the passenger seat and pulled out a blue paper bag. “P’Zee went to LA last week. I remembered you liked these last time, so I asked him to bring some back.” Inside was a purple floral box from a famous bakery in Los Angeles.
“Thank you Phi. You really didn’t have to.” Namping said, Harit smiled in return.
Again, silence settled between them. It wasn’t awkward, just heavy with all the words neither of them seemed ready to say.
Namping was about to speak again when something got into his eye, “Ahh..” He blinked repeatedly, rubbing it with the back of his hand trying to get the particle out. Instead, the irritation only grew.
“What is it?” Harit asked, looking at him, worried.
“I got something in my eye.” Namping said, rubbing it once more.
“Don’t” Harit held his wrist before he could make it even worse. “Let me see.”
Namping lowered his hand. Harit stepped closer, one hand came up to touch the side of Namping’s face. His thumb rested lightly against his skin as he examined his eyes.
“I see it.” He leaned in and softly blew against Namping’s eye.
Then again, a soft breath brushed across Namping’s lashes. His fingers curled against the paper bags he was holding.
“There ,” Harit murmured, almost whispering. “Try now.”
Namping blinked a few times before opening his eyes completely. “It’s okay now. Thank you—” Words got caught in his throat.
Harit hadn’t stepped away. They were standing too close, so close that Namping could feel the warmth of his breath. Hazel eyes met his.
Namping had looked into those eyes countless times before. Across meeting rooms, across dinner tables. But it was never like this. Never close enough that he could see tiny specks of amber beneath the browns. Never close enough to the point that he can see his own reflection staring back at him.
Neither of them moved.
Harit’s hand remained against his cheek. Namping grip harder to the bags he was holding.
Harit’s gaze dropped, from his eyes, slowly, to his lips, and again Harit's eyes met his. Namping swallowed hard.
Slowly, the distance between them shrank until there was barely any space left. One more inch, maybe even less. Their breaths lingered toward each other.
Harit’s thumb brushed lightly against Namping’s cheek, unconsciously, as though he had forgotten where they were.
For one second, the world around them seemed to disappear. What would happen next felt inevitable, as if all they had to do was move.
“I’m super shy, super shy—” The stainless gate swung open. “Shia!” And.. the spell broke.
Startled, Namping instinctively placed a hand against Harit’s chest and gently pushed him back. Harit immediately turned towards the voice.
There standing was Otto, frozen in his place, a trash bag dangling from his one hand. His eyes darted between Harit and Namping.
For a long awkward moment, nobody dared to say a word.
Otto let out an embarrassed laugh. “Khor thot khrap, hehe..I’m just taking the trash out.” Hurriedly, he tossed the trash onto the can and walked as fast as he could. As he passed Namping he reached over and took the bags Namping was holding. “You can continue.” He added while gesturing to the two and disappeared inside.
Leaving Harit and Namping staring at their reflection through the polished stainless gate.
The two of them blinked before exchanging a glance. What just happened?
A snort escaped Namping before he could stop it.“You should go home, Phi.” He brushed the hair at the back of his neck, unable to hide his smile. “It’s getting late.
But Harit did not answer. He was just standing there, as though he hadn’t caught up to what just happened.
Namping chuckled softly,and walked towards Harit. “Come on.” He held his forearms and guided him to the driver’s seat. Only when Harit was standing beside the open door did he seem to finally snap back to reality.
Harit ducked into the driver’s seat and reached for his seatbelt. As the buckle clicked into place and he was about to look up, Namping leaned down.
He suddenly forgot how to breathe.
A pair of soft lips brushed gently to the side of his face.
It lasted no more than a second, yet it was enough to leave Harit’s chest pounding wildly.
Namping was smiling warmly as he pulled away. “Thank you for tonight, Phi.” He closed the door with a gentle click. “Drive home safely.”
Before Harit could even utter a word, Namping had already turned and made his way towards the gate.
Harit remained frozen behind the wheel. He could feel the heat creeping across his face to his ears, like his entirety was burning.
A breathy laugh escaped him. That just happened, didn’t it? Namping really did kissed him on the cheek.
He shook his head to himself, with a smile that refused to leave.
Harit started the engine and slowly drove away, still smiling like a fool.
That night, no matter how far he drove, there was still a part of him left behind, right there, standing in front of Namping’s doorstep.