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Arthit’s whole body is thrumming with excitement and adrenaline as he and Kongpob step into the movie theatre. It’s seven years to the day since they met in this very spot and it’s perfect that they are back here together now.
He clutches his large popcorn close to his chest, the fingers of his other hand tucked where they fit best, between Kongpob’s. Like always, his boyfriend has led him to row 12, taking the inner seat and letting Arthit sit by the stairs.
Today, there’s another reason he wants to be by the exit and he doesn’t think Kongpob has worked it out yet. Well, he hopes he hasn’t. It’s rare he gets to surprise his other half since his anxiety tends to rear its ugly head and make him check his choices with his partner every time.
The trip to Japan for example, which was supposed to be a birthday surprise, became a Kongpob organised trip when Arthit felt himself closing off to the world. But his partner hadn’t complained, had just taken over the bookings including Arthit in every step of it so that the trip became a perfect mesh of both their interests.
Arthit knows how lucky he is to have Kongpob in his life. The other man takes his anxious moments in his stride, always knowing the right words and the right things to do to help him get through it.
He never puts words in his mouth, lets Arthit make his own choices no matter how long it can take him to articulate them and Kongpob always stands by him, even if he thinks some of Arthit’s plans are a little.. ‘off the wall’. (Okay, so four trips to the Robot Cafe in Tokyo might have been too many?!)
Today, though, Arthit has planned everything himself. He’s managed it all alone and is very excited to see Kongpob’s reaction.
“Do you think it’s weird?” Kongpob leans in and whispers close to Arthit’s ear.
The screen is still black, the lights are still up, it’s okay to talk, so Arthit asks his lover what he means.
“That we’re the only ones here?”
Arthit aims for nonchalance as he glances around the theatre until his eyes are back on Kong’s. “I’m not sure. How long til it starts?”
Kongpob checks his watch, counting the second hand until he can give Arthit an exact amount, something that makes him feel less stressed out. “Eight minutes.”
“Oh? I’m sure people will be along.”
Kongpob nods and squeezes Arthit’s hand then bounces back in his chair, letting his whole body relax against red leather.
By contrast, Arthit stays upright, spine straight, muscles taut as he waits.
Exactly three minutes later (Arthit counts), the lights go down and Kongpob makes a little ‘Huh?’ noise beside him, glancing over at Arthit, who holds himself still and stares straight ahead.
He knows if he turns, he’ll lose his composure and then his surprise will be spoiled. Only one more minute to wait.
His fingers tighten on Kongpob’s and he squeezes them back because he always does.
The next sixty seconds are just about the longest of Arthit’s life.
Longer than the time he waited for Kongpob to kiss him.
Longer than when he was working up his nerves to invite Kong to stay over in his room.
Longer than right before they were intimate for the first time.
These feel longer because Arthit knows that the next few minutes are going to change his life forever.
“Arthit, I’m just going to go to the bathroom, I’m sorry.”
Nausea rises in Arthit’s throat. He starts to sweat as Kongpob unlaces their fingers. His stomach turns into a stone.
“No!” He cries out and feels Kongpob still beside him.
“Arthit?”
There’s hesitance in Kongpob’s voice, like he wants to ask, but is afraid of the answer.
And Arthit doesn’t know what to say.
Anything he says now, will surely give away the secret, and he’s so close.. so very close.. only seconds away in fact.
He takes a deep breath and looks down at Kongpob’s shadow, “Can you just..”
Kongpob waits, and for the first time in his life, Arthit wishes he would fill in the sentence quickly and not be so understanding instead of giving him all this space.
But his boyfriend stays silent and Arthit is frozen in place. And then the giant cinema screen bursts into life and they’re both distracted.
Maybe five seconds in, Kongpob reaches over and takes Arthit’s hand again and he feels like all the rampant energy inside him becomes grounded at once.
“Sorry.” He whispers to Kongpob and his hand is squeezed in return, Kong respecting the ‘no talking once the trailers start’ rule.
The first trailer is for Kongpob’s favourite snack. The second, his favourite soft drink. The third, a persuasive advert for the charity that he works for.
Arthit feels his eyes on him and knows that Kongpob is itching to say something about the coincidence of getting all three. But he doesn’t and Arthit swallows his smile, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he waits.
Then the fourth advert starts and Kongpob cannot contain his gasp as a brief travelogue begins: photos from their trip to Japan, footage from their trek through the mountains near Chiang Mai, personal pictures of the two of them doing normal, everyday things together, their favourite song the soundtrack.
Arthit chances a glance to his right and sees glistening tear tracks marking Kong’s cheeks.
Instead of watching the big screen, he keeps his eyes on his love as the question he wants to ask pops up.
Kongpob drags his eyes away from the front to look straight at Arthit, questions blazing out of them.
“Yes,” Arthit whispers, “You can speak.”
Kongpob doesn’t though, he lifts his hand, popcorn crashing to the floor and cups Arthit’s cheek. Then he just stares at him, eyes flickering and tracing a path across his skin.
When they reach his mouth, Kong leans in and presses a dry kiss on his lower lip.
“Are you serious?”
Arthit’s heart is thumping like he’s on one of the dreadful daily jogs Kongpob makes him do, “Yeah. Yes, I mean. Yes, I am.”
The second kiss is more forceful, longer and ultimately more satisfying and Arthit forgets where they are.
When they finally draw back, he realises Kongpob hasn’t answered him and he knows he’s going to have to ask.
“Ummm.. Kongpob?”
“Yes, Arthit?”
Kongpob is watching him shrewdly, love shining out of his face.
“I.. well.. I mean, what do you think?”
Kongpob schools his expression into something confused, still beaming.
“About what?”
“Oi!” Arthit hits him gently with his fist and Kong starts to grin, “Are you really making me…”
“Please?”
Kong sounds like he’s itching to reply, but he’s also clearly desperate for Arthit to actually ask him.
Seven years of friendship, love, therapy, sweet moments, brief fights, support and happiness are cradled in Arthit’s heart and he knows he can do this. He wants to do this.
“Kongpob? Please? Can I make you mine? Will you marry me?”
“Yes!”
They end up crashing together, mouths working furiously, bodies entwining in Kongpob’s bouncing, leather chair.
Arthit forgets where they are, forgets that he’s nervous, forgets that he’s been waiting to do this for years.
He lets himself enjoy this perfect moment.. until the lights come up and a voice calls from the back of the room, “How did it go? Can I let the other patrons in now?”
-
They don’t stay for the movie. It was never in Arthit’s plan. Instead, they go to the same little cafe they’d visited on the first day they met and Kongpob buys him his favourite iced chocolate and wipes away his foamy moustache and Arthit feels calm and happy and complete.
Later, they sneak back to the theatre and Kongpob buys them each the giant tub of popcorn and they watch the movie they had planned to see and Arthit holds Kongpob’s hand through the whole thing.
And life is perfect!