Chapter Text
Keng opened his eyes groggily. Warm. He was so warm. And so parched. He threw his blanket off, and picked up his phone. 4:29 AM. He still had time before he had to get ready for work.
He went back to sleep.
It had, maybe, been a few minutes, when he dreamt he was sitting in a sauna. In the background, soft music was playing.
"Keng?" A siren's voice.
He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned. Not a soul in sight. "Keng." The voice was laced with urgency, sounding closer.
Someone was tapping on his shoulder.
He woke up from the dream in a haze.
Namping was kneeling on his bed, concern etched in his face.
"You're late for work and your alarm kept going off so I came in," he smiled, tight-lipped. "Seems like it's time to take a day off."
Keng tried to sit up and groaned. His body hated him.
"Lie back down, mister. You're not going anywhere." Namping pushed at his shoulder, slowly guiding him back onto his pillow. "I'll be back." And then he vanished.
It didn't take Keng a lot of effort to not move. His body was made of lead.
Namping returned a few minute later, with a tray laden with a glass of water, his medicine bag, and a plate arranged neatly with apple slices. He set the tray on the bed.
"You'll need to sit up for a bit," Namping said. "Here, let me help you."
"Oh, I can-" Keng started, but Namping was already assisting in propping him up against two pillows.
"Is this to keep the doctor away?" Keng asked, his voice hoarse.
"What?"
Keng pointed to the apple Namping had sliced for him.
Namping closed his eyes with a groan, but smiled nevertheless. "God, you're so lame."
Keng's heart skipped a beat. Just seeing Namping smile like that, without restraint, was doing something to him. It had been around twenty-nine hours since their fight, when he had said he would leave.
However, he had not kept his word to start looking for a new place for the simple reason that he spent the entirety of Sunday sitting on the couch, waiting for Namping to leave his room.
Around noon, when he was convinced Namping would not come out, he had knocked on the other's bedroom door, asking him to come out for lunch.
"I'm not hungry." He'd heard Namping say.
"Ping, please, can you just come out? Even if you're not hungry."
"I'm busy, Keng. I have a client presentation due."
"But, it's Sunday."
"It's already Monday for my client."
As plausible as that sounded, Keng wasn't entirely convinced that any part of the world had reached Monday, on a Sunday noon in Bangkok.
"Does your throat hurt?"Namping was asking, as he handed him the glass of water with medicine that was all too familiar to Keng.
Keng hesitated, and then nodded, putting the ibuprofen in his mouth and washing it down with water.
"I'll make you something light to eat. Till then eat this." He pushed the plate of apples towards him, worrying his lower lip. "Do we need to go to the hospital?"
"No. I'm fine." Keng was not rushing to the hospital over a fever. "The fever will wear off. I just need to rest."
Namping searched his eyes, and softly said, "Okay."
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The haze of the fever ruled most of the day. Keng was exhausted to the point that he kept dozing on and off. The soup Namping had made for him did wonders to his throat and his soul, and the other stood over him, making sure he drank every last bit of it.
At one point, Namping entered his room with a bowl and a hand towel. As he tended to him, putting cold presses on his forehead and neck and shoulders, Keng felt worse than pathetic. The motions were so soothing that Keng felt his consciousness grow weak as sleep took over him once again.
Maybe he had dreamt it, or maybe the fever was making him hallucinate Namping's voice as he said, "Can't you just stay here, Harit?"
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Before he even opened his eyes, Keng was painfully aware of the weight pressed up against his side. Namping was clinging onto his arm, his breath warm on Keng's skin.
Keng tried to move and discovered that Namping's leg was thrown over his.
He turned his head to look at the boy who had very inconspicuously become the center of his universe, and his breath caught. Namping always looked so pretty, but being this close to him made Keng's heart somersault. Namping's hair was plastered to his forehead, lashes dark and feathered against his cheekbones. His eyebrows furrowed a bit as his lips parted on a breath. Keng wanted to smoothen the little furrow.
The realization had come with acceptance that yes, Inah was right, and yes, he did desire Namping's attention like that, and yes, that was why he felt uncomfortable whenever Namping brought anyone home and yes, Keng truly did harbour such affection for Namping, and he had lied when Namping asked him if Keng would be okay with him sleeping with Jaehyun at his place because Keng did not know how to navigate this very tricky situation.
The noise, the absolute chaos in his head had suddenly silenced itself, just because he was looking at Namping. He wanted nothing more than to trace the lines of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw, feel the soft plumpness of Namping's lips under his fingertips.
He wanted to reach down and plant small kisses all over his face. He wanted to slide his arm around Namping's waist and nuzzle his face into the soft of his neck and maybe, maybe kiss the spot. He wanted to know what Namping tasted like. He wanted to learn what Namping felt like.
He wanted.
Seeing Namping like this, Keng was sure of three things.
Namping really was the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes upon.
He was irrevocably in love with Namping.
He had no idea if his feelings would ever be reciprocated. (This blind fool)
"With the way I've treated you," he whispered, almost to himself, "I wouldn't be surprised if you hated me."
But, Namping was latched onto Keng so fiercely, it felt like he would never let go.
Keng lifted his head off the pillow, and picked up his phone from his nightstand, careful not to jostle his little koala, and checked the time. 2:17 PM.
There were a few unread texts.
Jimmy: Thanks for falling sick. Ohm came rushing over to tell me Namping called him to tell me you're sick. You're the best wingman ever.
Jimmy: I have informed the bossman. i was told "good. He needs to learn to take a break." go figure.
Jimmy: Can Ohm and I bring you flowers and a get well soon card? Like a real couple.
Jimmy: Please.
Keng huffed. What a dick.
Inah: did you have the epiphany, yet?
He smiled, feeling only slightly sheepish, as he quickly typed a reply: Yes.
His phone pinged with another text, not even a minute later: good. now talk to him!!!!!!!!!!!
Namping stirred at the sound of the notification and Keng threw his phone behind him as he turned his body towards the sleepyhead.
Namping opened his eyes, blinking a few times. As soon as he registered Keng, he propped himself on his elbows, bringing his hand up to touch Keng's forehead and then throat.
Keng wanted to envelope him in his arms.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Mm. How are you feeling, now?" Namping was mumbling.
"Better. Still very sleepy though."
"Hmm. Your fever is down a bit, but not gone, yet. How's your throat?"
Keng touched his throat. "Hurts."
Namping nodded. "I'll make you some ginger tea." It was then, that he seemed to realize his leg was on top of Keng's. He pulled the guilty leg away, a faint blush creeping onto his face as he almost got out of bed, but Keng grabbed his arm, sitting up in bed.
"Can't you just stay here?"
Namping's eyes widened, and it was only then, that Keng realized he had not imagined it.
He cleared his throat. "Just stay here. We need to talk, anyway."
"We can talk later." Namping tried to pull away, but Keng tightened his grip on his wrist.
"Why can't we do it, now?"
"You're sick and you need rest." Namping rolled his eyes.
"I'm feeling perfectly fine." Keng insisted. "Please, Ping. I want to talk to you."
"About what?" The words were soft but Keng heard how they caught.
"Us."
Namping shook his head. "Whatever it is, it can wait."
Keng only pulled his wrist towards himself, so Namping continued: "I promise I'm not going anywhere, Keng. I don't want to fight with you." He paused. "At least, not while you're sick. We can fight when you're feeling better." He added with a smirk.
Keng smiled, something in his chest eased, just a little bit. "You promise?"
"Yeah. I promise."
Keng's grip on Namping's wrist loosened and the other boy pulled him up. "Go take a shower. You've been sweating like crazy all day, it'll help you feel better."
────𓅭────
Keng might have been sick, but he looked good. He stared at himself in the mirror, the fever making him look flushed and his hair was wet and slicked back. If he were being honest, he looked a bit too good. It was too unfair.
Not to mention his abs that glistened as tiny rivulets of water made their way into the waistband of his sweatpants.
He draped his towel around his neck as he closed the bathroom door behind him.
It was only when he turned that he noticed Namping sitting square in the middle of his bed, a cup in his hands, his eyes wide and mouth open.
He fought the urge to smile. This little gay boy.
"Like what you see?" He teased.
Namping cleared his throat. "You wish."
"Is that for me?" Keng pointed to the cup in Namping's hands.
"No, this is coffee. You, mister, will drink ginger tea." He gestured towards the bedside table, where, sure enough, was a cup that matched Namping's.
Keng sat down beside Namping, picking up the cup to take a sip. Immediately, he made a face, and put the cup back.
"Aren't you going to put on a shirt or something?" He turned to look at Namping who was pointedly looking down at his coffee, blowing on it.
"Too lazy to look for one. I'm sick, you know?"
Namping looked up, and Keng pouted for extra effect.
"Wow. Okay. You have some audacity." Namping said, rolling his eyes.
He got to his knees and leaned over, placing his right hand on Keng's shoulder for support, as his left reached out to put his cup on the bedside table.
With such close proximity to Namping, Keng could smell the vanilla scent of his body lotion.
He shifted and without thinking, his hands came up around Namping's waist, almost pulling the other onto his lap. If Keng had a dollar for every time that he held Namping's waist without thinking, he would have two dollars which is a lot for someone who thought he wasn't gay for his roommate.
Namping stilled, and Keng looked up at him.
And maybe because his body felt so tired, or his brain was addled with fever, and that he had finally lost control of his own self, that his gaze slid lower, to Namping's lips.
He wanted…
God, he wanted to kiss Namping.
He felt his heart hammer inside his chest, threatening to break through his ribs. Under his hands, he felt Namping draw in a shaky breath.
His gaze snapped up to meet Namping's.
And, suddenly, he remembered how Namping's voice had shaken when he had recounted Lucas' unwelcome hands, how uncomfortable he had been.
He immediately pulled away, planting his hands firmly behind him as he leaned back, dragging his gaze away from Namping's face.
With a groan, Namping let himself fall, landing face-first next to Keng, who ignored the gnawing need in his throat, and picked up his cup to take a sip again. And made a face. Again.
Say something. Anything.
"I don't think I'm a fan of ginger tea." Lame.
"But, it'll work like magic for your throat." Namping's voice was muffled against the bedcovers.
He stood up, walking over to Keng's closet and threw open the door. He essentially vanished.
"What do you want for lunch?" came his voice.
"Is it in the closet?" (Like Keng ehehe geddit?)
"Huh." Namping's head poked out. "That has to be bad, even by your standards."
Keng shook his head, smiling. Maybe he wanted to crack lame jokes forever just so Namping would always act disappointed.
Namping pulled a shirt out and threw it in Keng's direction. It landed on the bed.
"I'll heat some soup for you." He announced. "You better put on that shirt and come out." (No pun intended)
Just as the door clicked shut behind Namping, Keng slumped, throwing himself back in his bed.
Inah had told him to talk to Namping. About what exactly?
The discomfort between him and Namping had taken root because Keng had misunderstood his own feelings, but now that he knew, now that he was sure he was in love with his roommate, now that he had experienced firsthand, the want, the need to devour Namping, what was he supposed to do? The one day that Namping had avoided him, Keng had been unable to stop missing him desperately. Every single time that Keng had seen him with another person, or even thought of him with someone else, he had been wracked with disdain. Now, that he knew it was jealousy all along, how would he navigate it going forward?
Keng turned over, putting his face into his pillow and groaned.
Crazy.
He forced himself to his feet, dragging himself out of his room and towards the kitchen island.
He could definitely work on not reacting so harshly if he did stumble across Namping with someone else but that wasn't even the biggest problem right now. Keng's biggest issue was how much he seemed to lose his bearings around him.
When Namping was sitting on his bed, Keng had wanted to pull him onto his lap, to curl up around him. Right now, he wanted to walk up and hug Namping from behind as he chopped vegetables for his lunch, his deft fingers making quick work of the task. Why did he look so good doing something so mundane? Keng wanted to put his chin on Namping's shoulder as the other boy relaxed under him. He wanted to tease Namping and make him breakfast in bed and take him on dates and go on walks where he could simply hold his boyfriend's hand.
The realization slammed into him so hard he froze mid-step.
Namping had told him, in ways more than one, that he was not the kind of person to date. He knew I wasn't interested in dating anyone, he'd said. And all those visitors, as much as Keng hated their existence, were proof of Namping's views towards any notions of love and romance that involved him.
Well? Was Keng supposed to swallow his feelings and go through life as Namping's roommate and just watch from the sidelines?
He was doomed. He was truly, utterly doomed.
He didn't realize he was staring at Namping until the other sneaked up to him.
"Keng. Keng. Keng. Harit." Namping was saying.
Keng started. Namping always called him Keng. This sudden use of his first name was as startling as the quiet confession he had heard earlier.
Can't you just stay here, Harit?
It wasn't a big deal. He told himself that. It really wasn't a big deal. But, Namping calling him Harit, and the way it sounded on his tongue, in his soft voice, it was doing things to him. The intimacy of it was unreal.
Can't you just stay here, Harit?
Namping wanted him to stay. Even after their fight, even after Keng had said all those things to him and claimed he would start looking for new places, Namping wanted him to stay. With him.
His head was spinning.
"Earth to Keng Harit." Namping laughed.
Keng gave him a crooked smile. It was unfair how pretty he looked even on a normal day. His hair fell flat over his forehead, his eyes puffy with sleep and crinkled into the crescent moons that Keng adored to bits.
It's true what they say. Oblivion is bliss.
He had thought his realization would allow him to fix his relationship with Namping, but it seemed as though he was stuck even more than before. He could only apologize and accept his dickish behavior but not explain it. How could he? He could not confess. Not without ruining their friendship.
"You look a bit pale, Keng." Namping stepped closer and Keng's world tilted.
Instantly, he took a step back and Namping's hand shot forward to grab his arm. "Woah, you need to s it down."
He guided a woozy Keng to the couch.
As soon as he settled, Namping immediately put his hand to his forehead and then his neck. "What's wrong? Your fever is still down."
"Probably just vertigo." Keng said, even as his heart hammered at the close proximity.
Namping stood up, moving towards the kitchen. "Okay. Don't move. Just stay there. I'll get your soup."
Keng hummed his confirmation. His mind was reeling. He thought back to everything that had led up to this point. How had he been so blind?
At what point had he developed these feelings? If just the realization had messed up his mind so much, how could he continue living with Namping?
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By day three, his fever had disappeared, and Keng was at 100% health, but Namping would not stop fussing over him. He had never slept so much in his entire life and his roommate had barely let him out of his sight, keeping him fed and scolding him when he made a face at ginger tea.
It seemed to Keng that Namping had forgotten about their Saturday night argument, and if that were the case, Keng was more than happy to play along.
Dark circles had appeared under Namping's eyes and Keng had realized with a jolt that while his roommate was tending to him during the day, his work schedule still required him to clock in at night.
So, every single time Keng woke up from his hazy sleep to see Namping curled up against him (this had now happened thrice), he made sure to stay as still as humanly possible.
Even now, Namping had been sound asleep in a fetal position. Despite Keng's insistence that he was fully recovered now, Namping had camped on his bed with his laptop in hand.
"I'm just going to answer a few emails," he'd said, and promptly fallen asleep seventeen minutes later.
Keng had removed himself from his own bed, covering the sleeping boy with his blanket, before he closed the door behind him, only for the sleeping boy to follow him out five minutes later, whining, "You left me all alone."
It was weirdly intimate, the way Namping had been acting around him. The fever seemed to have stripped Keng of his inhibitions, and despite his prompt recovery, he still found himself staring at Namping every so often, tracing his features with his eyes and fighting the urge to do the same with his lips. Every single time Keng reeled his emotions back, Namping would do something like smile at him, his eyes crinkling, and Keng would lose himself all over again.
Keng put the spoon back in the bowl, and Namping had already moved, picking the bowl out of his hands to place it on the low coffee table.
At this point, it almost felt like Namping was overcompensating for something.
"Wow. I could get used to this. You're truly the best roommate ever." Keng smiled, not expecting what Namping said next.
"And you still want to move out?" Namping's tone was teasing, but his smile seemed so sad that Keng's heart clenched.
He cleared his throat. "About that… I wanted to talk to you…"
Namping's expression fell. "You already found a place?!" He sounded alarmed. "Can't you just stay?"
"What?"
Namping sat up straighter. "I won't bring them over," he said, solemnly. Keng stared at him. "This is your home, too and you deserve to feel comfortable in here."
"No. No. God. Ping, no. I'm sorry." He had to be honest about this one thing at least. "I was going to say, I don't know what I was thinking. It's not like I want to go. I don't even know why I said that." He was rambling instead of getting to the point. "I guess I thought I was making you uncomfortable. But no, I don't want to look for new places, I want to stay here. With you." He took a deep breath, even as it pained him to say, "And, no. You shouldn't have to compromise on something like this just because I've been such a dick. Please. Do whatever you want. Bring home whoever you want." He would probably regret his words the next time he sees someone new.
Namping was looking at him as if searching his face for a trace of a lie. After a moment, he said awkwardly, "O-kay."
He smiled with a small pout, his lower lip jutting out just a bit.
Keng wanted to lean in and capture Namping's lips with his.
God. He could not ruin this friendship.
"Can I ask you for some advice?" He asked, suddenly. No, no, no, no. Keng, no.
"Hmm, of course." Namping was picking up the television remote, no doubt in the hopes of watching a movie . He turned the television on and turned to face him.
Keng, no. "I think I've fallen for one of my friends." Keng, what the fuck?
Namping's entire being stilled.
He blinked several times, then seemed to gain composure. "Oh my god?" His eyebrows basically flew off his face. Then, in a hushed whisper, he said, "Is it Inah?"
If Keng had still been eating his soup, he would have choked, and maybe died.
"What? No!" He almost felt offended, and mentally slapped himself. Inah would be offended by him for thinking like that.
"Then, who is it?"
Keng kicked himself, mentally.
He took a deep breath, turning his body to face Namping. "Okay. It's a close friend of mine." Why had he opened his mouth at all? He slapped his mouth, lightly — mentally, of course.
"And," he continued, "I don't know if I should tell them."
"Them?" Namping prodded, his head tilted.
Him, Keng wanted to say. But, that would probably require some explaining to do.
"Them." He confirmed.
"Wow, so secretive." Namping pouted. "Wait so, they don't know, right?"
Keng shook his head.
"Do you…want to tell them?"
"I-" He paused, steeling himself. "Yeah. But… I don't want it to ruin our friendship. We're good friends."
Namping was nodding thoughtfully but a certain kind of sadness had lined his expression, even as he smiled, his eyes bright.
Keng wanted to pull Namping to himself and confess everything. Why had he started this? He was mentally doing a lot of things like beating himself up and kissing Namping. God. Stop it, Keng Harit!
"I want to repeat your own advice to you and tell you to ruin the friendship but I'd be a hypocrite if I said that." Namping laughed a mirthless laugh.
Hypocrite? Keng's heart sank. This had to be a joke.
"What do you mean by hypocrite?" He wasn't sure if he was ready to hear the answer.
"Well, let's just say I'm too much of a coward as well, when it comes to stuff like this." Namping laughed. "Does your…person have a partner? Are they dating anyone?"
"My person?" Keng's face was warm, but that was probably due to some fever remnants. Right? "No, but…"
An unwelcome thought entered his mind, just like a certain unwelcome guest.
Fuck Jaehyun, he thought.
Namping did, his brain responded.
"Buuuut…?" Namping was poking his arm with his index finger.
Keng huffed. "I think, soon enough he might have one."
The words hit both of them at the same time.
Mentally, Keng started violently beating the shit out of himself.
"He?" Namping's eyes were wide.
"What?"
"You said he-"
"You misheard me." Oh, now we're lying to Namping even more. "Anyway," he said, pointedly. "You were saying something? I mean, obviously, if they have someone, I won't say anything."
Namping narrowed his eyes at the closeted liar. "Good. But, you're being very suspicious." He was nodding, slowly. "I'm going to keep my eyes on you, mister."
Keng pursed his lips to hide the smile that threatened to break his character.
He stood up. "I'm going to head to the gym."
"Now?!" Namping stood up, too. "You've barely recovered. You're not going to the gym or to work or anywhere."
"Ugh, Ping." Keng groaned. He reached out, clasping Namping's hand and raising it, putting his palm flat against his forehead and then his neck. "See? No warmth. No fever. My throat is fine, too."
"Yes, but your body needs rest. You shouldn't go past its limits."
Keng let their hands fall, fingers intertwined. "Please? I promise I won't overdo it," he said, as he playfully swung their hands between them. "I've been in bed the past two days, I've barely got in any physical activity. At this rate, I might as well melt into my bed."
"Maybe you should."
It almost felt like Namping was his boyfriend and he was asking for permission to go out.
It almost felt like Namping was his.
"I'll bring you a cookie." Keng offered.
Namping raised an eyebrow. "I want two." He held up two fingers for emphasis.
Keng grinned, triumphant. "Deal."
────𓅭────
He had definitely overestimated his own body's strength, and was back sooner than he had anticipated.
Keng stared at the message, reading it over and over again.
can you bring an extra cookie on your way back? jaehyun's stopping by and i don't want to give him mine :')
(A/N: no. no double meaning intended. cookie means cookie. namping is talking about the cookie you eat. not the,, you know... am i making this worse?)
He was standing in the living room, having just closed the door behind him, phone in one hand and bag of cookies in the other. He should have checked his phone earlier.
He ignored the spark of jealousy that ignited deep within him. He had no right to feel like that.
The message had been sent seventeen minutes ago.
The living room was empty, no signs of any visitors. He placed the bag on the the table and noticed Namping's laptop open on the couch.
Well. Whatever that means.
He quietly padded over to his bedroom door, opened it extra carefully, and closed it behind him with more care than he thought was humanly possible.
Thinking he could take a quick nap before he headed to the kitchen to make dinner (read: stand around uselessly because Namping would not let him lift a single finger), he lay down in bed and only then did he hear the moans coming from the other side of the wall.
Not fucking Jaehyun again.
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing his brain to drown the sound out. He should leave. Maybe go out for a walk.
He propped himself on his elbows, determined to leave when he heard it clearly.
The moans were drawn out, each syllable laced with need and urgency. Namping was cursing, calling out to god. And…
Keng.
𓅭________𓃹