Archive of Our Own

Pran first met him at his clinic. He never thought much about it, though. He gets many patients coming to his clinic. Pat was the last patient that night. It was a rainy night and Pran was tired, waiting for his partner to take over for the night shift. He couldn’t leave the clinic until Wai came and Wai was a little bitch that was always late.

Pran was cold inside his office, air conditioners had been turned off, and yet Pran was shivering from the rain outside. Then, the door to his office was forced open and a heavily bruised man stumbled into the room, falling on his knees.

Pran immediately jumped to his feet, heart speeding up at the sight of the bloodied and bruised man with his clothes torn apart. He looked horrible. Pran immediately rushed to his side, wrapping his arms around the heaving man’s broad shoulders.

“Sir? Sir, are you okay?” he asked against the man’s ears, sighing in relief when he nodded and groaned in pain. Pran immediately wrapped his arms around his waist and carefully maneuvered his patient onto the small bed.

The man before him was conscious and in pain. Pran stared at his fierce eyes that refuse to close. Pran immediately grabbed his scissors and tore open his dirty shirt. Thankfully, the man did not suffer from any stab wounds or gunshot wounds. It seems to be light scratches and bruises that probably started from hand-to-hand combat.

He examined the man’s face, his left eye was swollen and bleeding, he bruised lips and his nose was probably broken. Pran visibly winced, wondering how badly his fight got. He slowly traced his fingers over his patient’s body, applying pressure and checking to see if he was in pain.

The man moaned louder when Pran hand-applied pressure on his hips. The skin below his finger looked fine but he soon realized why when his patient arched his back away from Pran’s hand. Pran saw the stab wound against the man’s back, blood gushing uncontrollably. Pran was quick to apply pressure.

“Can you tell me your name, sir?” Pran asked as he cleaned the wound quickly and checked for any infection. The man below him only moaned in response, eyes opening and closing tightly in pain. Pran decided that he would leave the questions for later as he focused on saving this man.

Wai had already entered the clinic shortly after Pran starts to clean the man’s body with a wet cloth as there were no nurses around today to help him. Wai tried to give an excuse on why he was late but Pran just glared at him. He was too tired to be punching his best friend and partner of their clinic.

The man lay in pain, slowly moving around to give Pran a little space to wipe his body cleanly. He was thankful that the man is conscious, just not talking. Pran took some time to finally observe him. He had thick, black hair that was probably overgrown, the hair covering his eyes. His eyes were closed but Pran remembered those fierce eyes, filled with pain and desperation. His eyes are wide and cannot hide his emotions. He was built quite well to the extent where Pran’s eyes lingered a little too long over his torso, his abs flexing as he breathed deeply. He immediately stopped himself.

“Officer Pat Napat Jindapat,”

Pran was startled at the foreign voice that whispered near his ears. He looked up to see those eyes, wide open, hiding nothing. They looked like a doe’s eyes when he wasn’t serious. Pran nodded.

“Officer,” he called. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain? Do you need me to refer you to a hospital?” It was the standard questions he asked. The officer took some time to reply, his brain exhausted as he tries to comprehend.

Slowly, Officer Pat shook his head. “I’m not in pain, doctor,” he croaked. “May I have some water please?”

Pran wasted no time in getting off his chair to grab a glass of water and handing it to him. Pat raised his arm to grab the glass but immediately pulled it back, head throwing back in pain. Pran internally cursed for being so dense. He was very very tired.

“Sorry,” Pran chuckled humourlessly before grabbing a straw and inserting it, and helping Pat to sip his water slowly.

Pat sighed in relief when the water wets his throat, a small smile on his tired face. “That’s very sweet of you, doctor,” he grinned, lolling his head to the side.

Pran stared at his smile. He stared. He liked it but he kept his mouth shut. Pat laid on his stomach, arms being a pillow for his head that was turned to face Pran.

“When do I get to go home, doctor...” Pat paused, raising his eyebrow in question at the doctor, silently asking for his name.

“Just call me Doctor Pran,” he replied. “You should stay a night here; another doctor will take care of you if any complications occur. If everything is fine, you may go back home tomorrow,”

Pat nodded, then turned his head quickly to Pran, eyes alarmed. “Another doctor?”

Pran nodded. “Yes, you’re my last patient actually. Doctor Wai will be taking care of you now,” he didn’t wait for Pat to respond before he got up to start packing his things.

“Doctor, wait,” Pat grabbed the wrist of the doctor to stop him. He realized what he did at the wide eyes the cute doctor gave him. Pat apologized sheepishly. “Can you be the only one in charge? I don’t like too many doctors around me,” he mumbled.

“It’s literally just one-

“Doctor, please?”

Pran had no idea why he agreed to stay the night and take over Wai’s night shift.

Pran woke up from his uncomfortable office desk, rubbing the reddened side of his face that was squashed against the hard wooden table. He leaned against his chair and stretched to get the sleep out of his body. Fortunately, only one patient, other than Officer Pat had come in, so Pran had some time to sleep as he occasionally checked on Pat.

He hated how he wasn’t even annoyed at the man for convincing him to take care of him. Pran needed his sleep and yet, even lacking sleep, he chose to stay next to Pat.

He got up from his chair, moving to check on the officer who is still on his back, sleeping soundly, and hugging a pillow tightly to his bare chest.

He’s a hugger, Pran thought.

He swiped his hand over Officer Pat’s forehead to check if there were any abnormal changes in temperature, just when the fierce eyes of the officer fluttered open sleepily. He watched Pran as he conducted his daily check-up on Pat, hiding his smile when the doctor yawned to himself.

He must be tired, Pat thought.

“Good morning, Doctor,” Pat greeted as he watched the grumpy doctor jump in surprise at the sound of his voice.

The doctor nodded in response, giving Pat a fleeting smile before continuing his work.

Pat noticed the dip in his cheeks when he smiled and his heart skipped a beat.

Dimples.

The doctor has dimples.

“How are you feeling today, Officer?” Pran asked, his voice groggy and rough from sleep. Pat simply nodded and hummed with a smile. Pran took that as a sign that he was okay.

Great, because he wanted to go home.

“I’ve prescribed some medicines and painkillers for you, remember to take them as what I wrote down in this paper,” Doctor Pran waved the paper in Pat’s face before placing it in a bag that contained all his medications. “Also, remember to change your dressing every day. Every day, officer,” he emphasized. “Do you know how to change the dressing for your wound?”

Pat shook his head hopelessly. “Can’t I come here to change it?” he pouted and Pran was so, so confused.

How is this grown and buff man acting like a puppy?

“Why would you waste the time and petrol to come here every day?” Pran retorted. “You can have a family member help you since the wound is on your back,” he moved to grab some gauze and bandage to demonstrate when Pat grabs his wrists yet again.

Pran really needs to punch this man.

Pat apologized again and Pran hides his urge to roll his eyes. “I don’t have anyone,” he said. Pran stared at him, wishing he would explain. Pat’s eyes were enough to tell him what he wanted to know.

His eyes were always so real.

Pran sighed reluctantly. “If you really don’t have a guardian..” he paused, letting Pat answer it himself.

“Great! When will you be available?” his eyes light up and the doctor can’t help but see the uncanny resemblance of a golden retriever in the officer.

“What? I never said I was doing it-

“But doctor..” the grown man whines like a child.

There he goes again.

Falling prey to the whines of a man he never knew.

From that day onwards, Pran was never at peace. The clingy and flirty police kept on coming to his clinic using the most absurd reasons to see him. He didn’t know if what he felt was annoyance or flattery. The officer came every day for three weeks to change the dressing on his wound and insisted only for Pran to do it even when he had the night shift. On some days, he would come late at night after his night duty and make an excuse for Pran to meet him at the clinic.

Pran hated him to the core.

Yet, he made no moves to stop the man.

Just like today, at noon, Officer Pat Napat strolls into the office like it was his second home, greeting the regular nurses there and walking into Pran’s office. Pran was documenting his latest report when Pat entered holding a plastic bag in his hand and grinning widely, almost as bright as the sunshine. Pran felt his heart speeding up and wondered why in the world he was excited over this annoying man that never seemed to shut up.

Pat had been coming so often that he basically knew about all of Pran’s shifts, and even if he didn’t, he would wait in the clinic until he gets to see Pran.

Pran sighed, staring at the cheeky man through his glasses as he sat on the bed and waited for Pran. Pran stood up and didn’t even make an attempt to grab his stethoscope. He sighed and stood in front of Pat. “What is it this time, officer?”

“I told you to just call me Pat, doctor,” Pat whined like a little boy.

Pran stared at the man that was definitely bigger and stronger than him, wondering how people would take him seriously if he acted this clingy to everyone.

“That wouldn’t be professional,” Pran retorted. “So what is it this time?”

“I brought you dumplings,” Pat smiled, shoving the bag of hot dumplings in Pran’s face. “You’re probably too busy for lunch, so I figured I’d cover lunch today,”

“That’s very nice of you but I-

“You always say the same thing when I buy you stuff,” Pat huffed, rolling his eyes playfully before placing the bag on Pran’s desk. “I don’t want you to starve,”

Pran was being killed with kindness.

“Also, my wound hurts today,” Pat told the doctor, pointing to his stab wound at his back. “I think the stitches popped,”

“Officer it’s been two months,” Pran stared at the police. “There’s literally nothing there,”

“Who knows? It could be my appendix,” Pat retorted, a sly smirk appearing on his lips. “I’ve heard that those hurt a lot,”

“Your appendix is on your right. Your wound is on your left,” Pran wanted to applaud this man for trying (and failing) to come up with an excuse just to spend time with him.

“But doctor, it really hurts,” Pat convinced the doctor, putting on his puppy face just to spend more time with Pran.

Pran watched as Pat tried his very best to convince him. Two can play the game then.

Pran smirked to himself. “I just realized that if your wound starts to hurt even after it heals,” he started, hiding his evil laugh when the glee in Pat’s eyes fades. “There’s probably an infection. I need to just inject you with a small dose of-

“O-oh,” Pat stuttered, visibly backing away from the doctor. “It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he laughed nervously.

“But still, we must be precautious, you know?” he walked to his shelf and grabbed a syringe.

“Doctor, it really isn’t-

“Oh, you must be hurting very badly,” Pran exclaimed, faux pity in his eyes. “I’ll make sure to amp up the dosage so that-

“Okay! Okay, I lose! You win,” Pat raised his hand in surrender, sighing in relief when Pran set the syringe down with a triumphant smile. Maybe losing was not so bad after all. If Pat could see that smile every day.

“Do you need anything else?” Pran asked sweetly, hands motioning to the door with a fake smile.

Although his smile was fake, Pat can’t help but fall for those dimples all over again. His number one goal in life was to kiss those adorable dimples.

“Your number,” Pat mumbled in defeat.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said louder, hoping Pran didn’t hear that. “Eat those before it gets cold,” he stood up and walked closer to the doctor who visibly gulped and avoided eye contact. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Doctor Pran,”

Pran hated how his name sounded when Pat said it.

It was almost one in the morning when Wai entered to take over the clinic for the night shift.  Pran was already half asleep on his hand when his best friend walked in.

“Hey, sorry I was-

Pran simply got up and smacked his best friend. “I’m too tired to listen to your lame ass excuses. You’re taking over the whole day tomorrow,”

“Aw, why?” Wai groaned in annoyance.

“I’m moving, remember?”

Realization struck Wai as he nodded. “Do you need my help?”

“Don’t try to get out of working,” Pran slung his office bag over his shoulder and slapped Wai on the back. “I’m leaving,”

The walk back home was definitely always the part that Pran dreaded the most. The route to his apartment was always so poorly lit and was known for the hidden crimes that happen between buildings.

Pran gripped his bag tightly, wishing he would’ve listened to his mother about getting himself that talisman from the temple his mother had visited. However, this would be his last day walking through this route. The anxiety in Pran finally pushed him to get a new apartment that was nicer and safer to go to.

Pran hears the sound of a bottle crashing and jumps, hands shaking around his back as he glanced around nervously. He found a small little cat near him and sighed in relief. It was just a cat. Pran continues to walk.

He was almost about to reach his apartment when he felt two strong arms wrap around him and something cool was placed against his neck. It didn’t take a genius to know what was being held against his neck.

“Take out everything you have,” the man behind him growled, applying pressure against his throat. Pran closed his eyes, trying to regain his breathing to calm down.

Pran slowly pushed his hands into his pocket and grabbed his wallet and phone. His bag had been snatched already. At this point, all Pran worried about was his life.

He was too young to die.

Especially as a virgin.

He threw his belongings in front of him, wincing in pain when the knife dug deep enough to scratch the side of his throat. He closed his eyes again, wishing this nightmare to be over when Pran was forcefully pushed by another foreigner. He stumbled a little but regained his composure, eyes landing on the robber being tackled to the ground by a man Pran was familiar with.

He sighed in relief at the sight of Pat pining the robber down with his knees. He grabbed the hands of the robber and cuffed him to the pole of the broken streetlight. The robber opened his mouth to shout and Pat had enough. He turned back around and gave the man one punch, strong enough to knock him unconscious for at least a few hours.

Pran saw those fierce eyes in the dark. They looked exactly like those eyes he had seen when he first met Pat. It was almost scary. Pat turned around and looked at Pran, his fierce eyes softening, but the residue of his anger was still very much obvious.

He walked to the shaking man and pulled him into his arms. Pran’s eyes widened in both shock and relief and he looked up at the officer. “Officer, what-

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Pat asked, eyebrows furrowed in concern. He moved his hand to cup Pran’s cheek, eyes glazing over his face to scan him for any bruises.

Pran tried very hard to ignore the firm hand on his waist and the other one caressing his cheek with such gentleness. It took everything in him to not nuzzle against Pat’s rough and calloused hand.

Pran nodded, his wide eyes never leaving Pat’s fierce ones. “I’m okay,” he whispered. Pran watched as Pat sighed in relief, head hanging down as if it was too heavy to hold.

Pat pulled his hand back from Pran’s cheek only to notice the stain of red against his palm. His eyes widened as he looked back at Pran, eyes zeroing on his neck. There was a small scratch just at the side of his neck from where the knife had been.

“You’re bleeding,” Pat voiced out. Pran noticed his little wound and simply nodded. It wasn’t a serious one.

“I’ll treat it when I get home,” Pran takes a step back, wanting to put some space between them because he was feeling a little too overwhelmed. “How did you know I was here?”

Pat didn’t answer the question at first. His eyes scanned all over Pran’s body for a while and it took Pran a minute to realize that he was still checking Pran for injuries and most definitely not checking him out. Pat fishes into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. He takes the one step that Pran had placed between them and places the handkerchief against Pran’s cut.

“Keep it there until you treat it, will you?” Pran had never seen Pat so serious. He felt his face heat up from the amount of attention he was getting from the police officer.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Pran changed the topic, ignoring Pat’s hand that lingered on his neck.

“You didn’t answer mine either,” Pat retorted.

Pran looked at the taller officer expectantly, having no plans of giving in first. Pat sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. Pran ignored the thought in his mind that found the action attractive. “Fine,” Pat gives in. He looks down, not wanting to see Pran’s face as he answers Pran’s question.

“Usually when you go home after work, I would walk you home,” he answers. “I didn’t like the idea of you walking alone here. Plus, I didn’t want to bother you like a creep all the time,”

Pran smiled, looking at the big puppy officer that had his tail between his legs. He wanted to say something about Pat already being a creep by following him home, but he shut himself up. Instead, he said,

“It’s been a long day. Get some rest, officer,”

Pran lay in bed, wide awake, the handkerchief soft in his hand. He stares at it, dark blue, like the ocean. It smelled just like Pat and Pran has no idea how he knew that.

Tonight, he saw Pat in a different light and it felt like a slap to his face that cleared all the confusion he had around Pat. He doesn’t remember when he dozed off, nor did he remember waking up to the scent of Pat against his nose.

He woke up, feeling unusually good. It was probably because Pran was finally moving to a new place. One that wouldn’t trigger his anxiety every five minutes. There were downsides to his moving, though. Although the place was nice and the environment seemed friendly, it was far from his workplace and Pran would not be able to walk back home anymore.

He had spent a lot of money on buying this apartment, so Pran would have to wait for at least a year until he had enough money saved up to get himself a car. For now, all Pran could do is take the bus.

Today, he woke up earlier than his scheduled time because he wanted to meet Pat to return the handkerchief he had given Pran. Just that.

As he finally got dressed in his casual clothes, Pran resisted the urge to look at the mirror more than he usually does. He walks to his kitchen one last time and decides to cook something for himself.

Pran thought about cooking for Pat too, but he resisted, the idea being too intimate for their current relationship.

Pat ran his fingers through his hair for the umpteenth time of the day, yawning in exhaustion. Pat had pulled an all-nighter even when it wasn’t his shift. He has a night shift tonight and just the thought of it made Pat slump against his chair and groan in exhaustion.

He usually hangs around the station and stays up doing work simply because he has nothing to look forward to at home. He would finish his work and come back to the same empty apartment and no one but Nong Nao, his doll, on his bed. He didn’t want to get into all that pile of sadness.

As he pushed his hair from his face, Pat wondered if he should cut his hair. Being a police, he should always keep his hair short and neat, but being a higher official, Pat had the upper hand in his appearance and no one dared to question him.

He leaned against his office chair, reading through yet another case file, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Pat looked horrible, but he couldn’t care less. All he wanted was for this day to be over so he can sleep the next whole day off.

He grabbed a pen, marking all the wrong parts and errors in the case so that the rookie who did this can fix his mistakes. As the diligent officer marked the file, his best friend and co-worker, Korn, pushes the door to his office and walks in.

Pat doesn’t bother to look at him. He continued to read through the case file.

“Someone’s here for you,” Korn said before walking closer to his best friend. “Damn, Pat, he’s cute.”

Pat stared at Korn in confusion, wondering who on Earth would visit him at his workplace. He gets up and slams the file against Korn’s chest. “Give this to the rookie, tell him I’m impressed,”

“Are you really?”

“Just do it, he’ll get more confident,”

Pat doesn’t hear what Korn replies, his mind too focused on the mysterious person wanting to see him. Pat goes out to the reception area and he stops in his tracks, taking in the sight of a familiar person sitting with his legs together, a container on his lap as he waited. Pat immediately hides behind a wall, heart speeding up.

Pran sat on one of the plastic chairs, looking as beautiful as ever. Pat’s number one goal in life is to make sure Pran knows how beautiful he is. He’s not wearing his usual work attire that Pat was used to seeing for the past few months. Pran wore a black turtleneck, his soft white arms in full display and he wore white jeans, something Pat has never seen anyone being able to pull off.

Pat stood before Pran, clad in his uniform. It was the first time Pran saw him in his uniform, although it was slightly crumpled, not tucked in properly and the buttons on his collar were open to expose glimpses of Pat’s defined chest. He looked so good in his uniform. Pran wondered how good he would look in a neater version of that. He ignores his straying mind

Pat visibly gulped before advancing towards Pran. Pran immediately looked up, his lips forming a soft smile, dimples in full display, and then as if realizing his smile, he stops it. Pat was happy enough that he got to see those dimples for 0.05 seconds. It was as if their roles were switched because Pat literally had no idea what to say.

“Good morning,” Pran was the first to say. He stood up, pushing his sling bag over his shoulder, gripping the container in another.

Pat stared at the man before him, hands moving to his side and then pushing into his pockets and then pulling them out again. “I, uh,” he paused.

Pran can’t help but smile. “You look tired,”

Pat was thankful that Pran was nice. He clearly knew Pran was trying to say he looked fucking hideous. Pat sighed to himself. He wanted to scream. Why did Pran have to see him in this state? When he looked horrible.

“I,” Pat cleared his throat again, finally having the courage to speak up. “How did you know I was here?” he asked.

It was Pran’s turn to stare. How was he going to tell Pat that he went against his moral ethics and snooped at Pat’s personal information? He only checked Pat’s workplace, though. Pran was a man of morals.

“I..” Pran started, ignoring the heat that rose up to his cheeks. “You told me something about your work once,” he lied.

Pat smirked to himself. He was pretty sure he never talked about his work to Pran, but he doesn’t push Pran. He was happy enough that Pran was here to see him.

Pran was here.

PRAN WAS HERE.

Pran clears his throat and pushes the container in his hands to Pat. “I brought you this,” Pran mumbled. “Have you eaten?”

Pat’s heart was about to leap out of his throat. Those three words felt like a warm hug. He never wanted to lose this feeling. He looked down and stared at the container in his hands. Pran had bought him fried rice. Pat smiled. He didn’t take his dinner last night and his whole shift was only fueled by cups of coffee and Korn’s gummy sweets.

“No,” he replied, eyes never leaving Pran’s wide orbs. They looked like two boba balls and Pat wants to kiss his eyes. “Thank you,” he says instead. “Pran,”

Pat hears the hitch of breath against Pran’s throat and was thankful that he’s not the only one affected by this.

“So,” Pat changes the topic, trying to make a conversation. “Are you on night shift today?” he motions Pran to follow him into his office so Pran wouldn’t feel shy or uncomfortable talking to him.

Pat tries to ignore the stares he gets from his juniors and subordinates as he opens the door for Pran to enter first, glaring at Korn who started to wiggle his eyebrows.

“I took a day off,” Pran answers, eyes moving around Pat’s office in awe. He knew Pat was a cop, but Pran had no idea that Pat was actually one of the big deals. He contemplates on whether he should tell Pat about his move. “I’m moving,” it didn’t take him much time to make a decision.

Pat was leaning against his office door with his arms crossed as he watches Pran with a fond smile. At the mention of him moving, Pat stiffens and he drops his arms. “You’re leaving?”

Pran turns around at the sad tone Pat uses and almost laughs at how sad Pat looked. It was his fault for wording it wrongly. Pran grinned, shaking his head. “No. I’m just moving apartments,” he reassures Pat.

“Oh,” Pat says before his grin comes back again, and Pran looks away, heart beating. “That’s great news. I was meaning to talk to you about this after last night,” Pat paused, eyes zoning on Pran’s neck. “How are you feeling now?”

Pran unconsciously tugs at his turtleneck, feeling the rough bandage there, and nods. “I’m okay now,” Pran says. “Oh, I almost forgot,” Pran pushes his hand in his pocket and pulls out Pat’s handkerchief, newly washed before handing it to Pat. “Thank you,” Pran whispers. “For the handkerchief, I mean,”

Pat knew it wasn’t only about the handkerchief so he simply smiles and accepts it. The handkerchief now smells like Pran too. It had both of their scents mixed together and Pat wondered if this was how it would smell if he had Pran in his arms.

“Are you free for today?” Pran blurted out, almost wanting to smack himself for being so blunt. He hated how obvious he sounded. “I mean, you should probably rest, you look tired,”

Pat nodded in agreement, feeling a pang of guilt when he realized, he couldn’t spend time with Pran. After all those months of flirting with him, the day he finally gets feedback from Pran was the day he just had to be swarmed with meetings and court cases.

Pat almost hated himself for being such a hard worker.

“I’m sorry Pran,” Pat replies. “My day today is packed with meetings and hearings. I think it’s going to be another night spent in this ugly office,” Pat pouts to himself, an action he was only brave enough to do around Pran.

Pran nodded understandingly, suddenly finding Pat’s pout adorable. “That sucks,” he sighs. “I figured you would want to come with me for the move,” he paused, cheeks on fire. “You know, to see if the place is safe enough,”

Pat couldn’t believe his ears and his eyes. The Pran that stood before him, was shy and soft and most definitely asking Pat to spend some time with him. Like a date.

A date.

Pat coughed, slapping his chest to get his heart to stop beating uncontrollably. It was everything Pat had ever dreamed of. He was almost 99 percent sure that he was going to ditch his work and help Pran to move.

Pran was practical enough to know what the man before him was contemplating. He knew it was a bad idea to say that because Pat literally looked like he was going to pack his bags and follow Pran back with his non-existent tail wagging.

“Don’t even try to skip work,” Pran pointed a finger to Pat who raised his arms in surrender from being caught,

“How do you expect me to work when I get to see you like this only to not see you at all after this,” Pat whined and Pran had this huge urge to give him a kiss against his forehead.

He refrained from doing it as he doesn’t even know what he and Pat were.

“I have a night shift tomorrow,” Pran places a hand on Pat’s shoulder. He doesn’t elaborate further because he knows that Pat had already gotten the clue.

He grins blindingly, “I’ll see you after work then,” Pat smiles.

It was almost midnight when Pran had finished unpacking all his furniture. He hadn’t rearranged them properly and his eyes were hurting from the messy piles of boxes in his room. However, Pran was exhausted. He figured he should go out for a walk around his apartment to familiarise himself with his new home.

As Pran locked his door, he glanced at the door across from his, the realization hitting him. In his old apartment, it was beat down and badly maintained to have many tenants, so Pran didn’t have any neighbors. Looking at the door across from his now, Pran feels obliged to introduce himself.

He walked towards the door, gathering his breath before knocking thrice, and waiting. He waited for a few minutes until his anxiety got the best of him. Pran walked back into his room to get a few bottles of green tea he had bought that was stashed in his refrigerator. He walked back and hung the bag of green tea against the door handle of his neighbor’s apartment before knocking again.

Pran didn’t wait this time and walked away to the nearest elevator. As he walked, he heard the door to his neighbor’s apartment creak open and Pran immediately turned around, wanting to get rid of the burden of not greeting his neighbor out of the way.

“Hello, my name is-

Pran stopped in his tracks, his whole body frozen at the sight of his neighbor. Standing at the threshold of the door across his own, Officer Pat stood holding his bag of green tea, just as frozen as Pran. He wore a neater uniform that wasn’t tucked in and the buttons were not fastened properly. Pran’s eyes unconsciously traveled to the line between his chest that expanded to his sternum.

“Pat?”

Pat continued to stare, wondering if he was in yet another dream of his beautiful Pran. All he could manage to say was, “So you finally called me by my name,”

Pran shook his head in disbelief but also excited. He wondered why he was excited.

“You’re my neighbor?”

Pat didn’t answer his question. “And you’re moving here?” he asked back, unable to hide his grin when Pran nodded bashfully. “What are the odds,” he smiled.

“I thought you were working?” Pran asked but at the back of his mind, he was cursing at himself for giving Pat such a stupid housewarming gift. Who in the world gives their new neighbor green tea?

Pat leaned against his threshold and crosses his arms. “I am. I came back home to freshen up a bit. I was about to head out now,”

Pran hummed before nodding. “Well, I don’t want to be holding you up,” he paused, wondering if he should say his next sentence. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” it comes out in a quiet tone, making Pat grow more and more excited at the prospect of spending a whole day with Pran, without the risk of being stabbed with a syringe.

Before Pran can leave him, Pat grasps his wrist again, throwing all the self-control he had out the window and the sight of Pran’s beautiful dimples. Pat moves to place a soft kiss against the doctor’s cheek, right above the dip of his dimples, relishing in the soft gasp Pran lets out.

“Sorry,” Pat whispers, the reality hitting him before his eyes widen in shock. “Sorry,” Pat says again, bracing himself for a punch or a slap.

Nothing comes.

Pran simply watches the slightly taller man shuffle around, his hand scratching the back of his neck as he fails to make eye contact with Pran. He shuffles a little closer to Pat and hides his smile at the sound of Pat’s hitch of his breath. Pran moves to return the gesture.

He kisses Pat on the cheek, softly.

Pran mumbles a goodbye and turns around to enter his room, any thought of walking around his apartment flying straight out of the window. As he closes the door, he peeks at Pat through the peephole. Pat remained frozen at his door, fingers lingering over the place where Pran had placed his lips against.

Pran leans against his door, feeling lovestruck for the first time in his life.

He went to bed with a smile that night.

The next morning, Pran woke up to a message from an unknown number.

Breakfast is on me <3

-P

It didn’t take him long to notice who it was, a smile forming on his lips as he read the words again and again.

How did you get my number?

The same way you got my work address :)

Pran shot up against his sheets, eyes widening. Pat knew. He knew that Pran had snooped into his medical report and Pat had done the same using his police power. He slumped against his pillows, groaning in embarrassment. This man was going to be the death of him.

When Pran walked out of the bathroom, he hated himself for staring at his wardrobe a little longer than usual. He knew that he wanted to choose an outfit that would impress the officer. Just the thought of Pran making efforts to woo the officer made him want to dig a hole and hide his head in it.

He’ll get used to it, though. Pran was sure he would.

Pran walked out of his apartment, slinging his bag against his shoulder as he waited for a bus to Pat’s workplace. He was sure Pat had not yet left his work since it was still fairly early for him to finish. He hoped that he could surprise Pat.

And surprised he was.

When Pran entered Pat’s office, he had been sipping on probably his thousandth cup of coffee. He looked at the person who entered his office through his paper cup, almost spitting it out at the sight of his date for the day, and hopefully for life.

Pran stood with his usual sling bag, a soft and shy smile on his lips. He looked beautiful, Pat thought again. Pran was wearing a soft, baby blue sweater with white stripes. He looked so soft and Pat almost wanted to cut his hands off to stop himself from hugging Pran and giving him a sniff.

Pat coughed, choking on his coffee as he set the cup down and moved towards Pran. “I- didn’t know you were coming so early,” he croaked. “I wanted to pick you up,”

Pran looks down at his clammy hands, feeling surreal and so new to whatever he felt around Pat. “It’s okay,” he finally says. “Are you still working? I can wait,”

Pat was fast to shake his head. “No,” he replied. “Just give me a minute, I’ll go freshen up,”

Before Pat leaves, he turns around one last time and takes in the sight of Pran. “You look beautiful today,” he blurts out. He couldn’t help it.

Pran was a mess both inside and out.

He bites his tongue from smiling when Pat offers him to take a seat in his messy office before scurrying to the nearest restroom. As he waited, one specifically nosey cop enters the office, using the excuse of submitting a report to Pat.

Korn grins at Pran. “You must be the doctor he keeps talking about,” Korn says before he extends his hand out. “I’m Korn, his best and only friend,” he introduces.

Pran hesitantly takes his hand and offers him a respectful smile. “Pran,”

Korn shakes his hand vigorously. “You really are cute. No wonder he can’t shut up-

“Korn,”

Korn was roughly grasped by his collar and pulled out of his room by Pat. He closes the door again and sighs. “Sorry, he doesn’t know when to shut up,”

Pran simply nods, too distracted at what Pat is wearing. He thought Pat looked handsome in his uniform, but he looked even hotter in casual clothes. Pat wore a plain white T-shirt that was paired with a black leather jacket and jeans. Pran had to force himself to swallow the saliva that got stuck in his mouth.

Pat notices Pran staring and smirks, crossing his arms against his chest, “Like what you see?”

Pran immediately snaps out of his daze and shoots Pat a fierce glare. Pat raises his hands in mock surrender before opening the door for Pran. “Let’s go,” he smiles at the doctor.

As they walked, Pat makes sure to shut up all his subordinates and stop them from staring. He tells Korn that he would be taking another day off since he had worked two night shifts in a row. Korn agrees even when he clearly knew that wasn’t Pat’s reason to take a day off.

Pat leads Pran to the parking lot, jiggling his keys in his hand, feeling giddy and happy after so long. He reached his bike, hiding his sly smirk when he sees Pran eyeing his bike with his mouth partially open.

“You don’t own a car?”

Pat sat on his bike, fastening his helmet before handing one to Pran. He had always brought a spare helmet with him just in case he would successfully get to give Pran a ride. “Oh, I do,” Pat replies. “But it’s easier for me to come to work in a bike,”

It was obviously a lie. He had taken his bike the second he knew he was going to go out with Pran. Pat would never miss the opportunity of having Pran cling to him.

“Have you ridden before?” Pat pretends to not be affected by the soft hand that touches his waist before climbing behind him. Pran’s scent wafts through his nose and Pat had no idea how even his smell made him intoxicated.

“No,” Pran answered.

“Well then, remember to hold tight,” Pat is half-minded on purposely speeding up just to get the feeling of Pran hugging him tightly, but he didn’t want to risk getting into an accident.

He was happy enough to have Pran right behind him, hands softly resting on his waist.

They go to Pat’s favorite noodle shop. It’s a small stall set up in a lorry by an old couple and Pat absolutely adores their noodle. Pat was definitely insecure and worried about bringing Pran to a normal stall for their first date, but he had no idea what to do. Pat was horrible at dating.

One look at Pran’s face, however, was enough for Pat to know that he made the right choice. Pran’s eyes lit up at the sight of wonton and noodles, he sighs in relief.

“I thought you were going to bring me to some pricey gourmet type restaurant and my stomach honestly can’t handle that,” he grins, motioning Pat to take a seat at a table as they wait to take their orders.

Pat silently smiles to himself, patting himself on the back for impressing Pran. They order their dishes and Pat notices how Pran specifically orders three wontons. He laughs a little too loudly at that and Pran eyes him.

“Why three?” Pat asks.

“Two is too little, and four is too many,” Pran replies.

Pat falls more in love.

 They had spent the afternoon together just driving on Pat’s bike and stopping by at small snack stalls to grab a bite and get to know each other.

It was definitely not what Pran had expected and he was more than okay with it. At the end of the day, Pran always hated the idea of spending unnecessary amounts of money just to impress a date. Pat had impressed him very much and all he had to do was show off his wide grin.

Pran was a goner.

It was nearing sunset and the two lovebirds had found themselves on a secluded beach in a town that was at least an hour away from their homes. Pat and Pran lay next to each other, fingers absentmindedly touching as they basked in the silence.

Pat turns to Pran, raises his head on his arm, and looks down at him. “What time does your night shift start?”

Pran hummed, eyes still closed and a small smile dancing around his lips. “Not for now. I start at ten, it’s only four,” he replies.

“But you’ll be tired, Pran,” Pat was soft and caring and it made Pran open his eyes.

He loved that tone. He loved how Pat is concerned for him and he loves when Pat is soft and slow for him. Pran shuffles a little closer to Pat, his head right below Pat’s raised arm. Pat looks down at the doctor with an unreadable expression.

Pran feels Pat’s free hand rest ever so lightly on his stomach and he closes his eyes, not making any move. He lets Pat move his hand over his thin white T-shirt, the sweater long discarded from the heat. Pran shivers at his touch, so soft and gentle as if he would break. Pat moves his hand further up to rest on Pran’s heart, feeling its harsh thumps against his fingertips.

“Pran,” Pat whispered, hand still against his heart.

Pran opens his eyes and looks at Pat’s fierce eyes, now dark and unreadable. Pran knew Pat’s eyes were always true to his emotions, so whatever his eyes were telling Pran, it was something Pran had never heard of before. The emotions in his eyes were probably only unreadable to Pran. He tried to figure out what Pat was feeling, what Pran was missing.

“Can I kiss you?” Pat whispers, almost desperate.

Ah. So that’s what his eyes were trying to say.

Pran doesn’t answer. He simply raises a free hand to tangle his fingers in Pat’s thick hair and pull him down to give him a soft kiss. The kiss felt normal, just their lips locking perfectly and Pat’s soft lips holding his together. It was normal and yet, Pran feels his whole body heating up from the sensations, his stomach hurling painfully in a good way.

He doesn’t want Pat to let go.

Unfortunately, Pat does. He breaks their kiss but he doesn’t back away and lets their nose touch. Pat’s eyes are still closed as if wanting to feel the remnants of Pran’s lips. When he finally opens his eyes to look at Pran, Pran wastes no time in pulling Pat completely over him and slamming their lips together.

Pat braces himself with both his arms beside Pran, as he lets Pran completely take over the kiss. Pran is digging his fingers into Pat’s hair, pulling him painfully closer, as if hungry. Pat lets out a sound from the back of his throat, utterly surprised with how good Pran kisses him. He feels Pran’s tongue at his bottom lip, playfully biting and lightly sucking and Pat doesn’t spend a minute to even think before he opens his mouth to let Pran in.

It was the greatest kisses Pat had ever had. He wraps his arms against Pran’s back and raises him up, holding his close against his chest as Pran kisses him until his lips bruise.

“Pran,” Pat gasps into his lips and Pran shudders, having no plans to leave Pat’s lips. His hands travel all over Pat before moving inside his leather jacket and resting his arms at Pat’s warm back, over his T-shirt. Pran was definitely going to regret the soft whine he let when Pat pulls back yet again.

They’re both breathless, cheeks and hair covered in sand as they looked at each other. Pat’s lips were red and wet and swollen, his hair all mussed up, and his chest heaving. He looks at Pran with wide eyes, hands still resting against his hips.

“As,” Pat paused, breathing in to regain his composure. “As much as I love this,” he breathes. “We need to stop, or else we’ll have some problems,” he doesn’t elaborate but his eyes dart down to his pants where Pran notices the slight tent in it.

He looks back up at Pat, smiling at his embarrassed face. Pran moves to cup his cheeks, basking in the warmth of his flushed cheeks. “That’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he whispers, having no plans to stop. Pran places a soft kiss against Pat’s cheek, adjusting himself so that he is straddling Pat.

He moves further, lips trailing around his skin and landing right below his ear. Pran smiles against the flush skin at the feeling of Pat pulling Pran tighter against him. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” Pran whispers as he slowly rests himself on Pat’s hard-on, relishing in the soft groan Pat lets out.

He holds Pran’s hips in place, eyes closed. “Are you okay with... With this?” he shudders against Pran again when the mischievous doctor sucks lightly on his earlobe.

“I’m okay,”

“Are you sure?”

To prove a point, Pran tugs Pat’s hair a little roughly, letting his head go back, exposing his neck for Pran. He places a soft kiss on the side of Pat’s throat and sucks right over his pulse. He doesn’t suck hard enough to leave a bruise but the moans coming from Pat almost urged him to do so. Pat’s hand moves to Pran’s hair, tangling in his hair as he keeps Pran at the crook of his neck, sucking and nibbling all over it. Pat moves against Pran, slowly gasping at the friction.

He was about to move faster and harder when the phone in his pocket starts to vibrate. Pat decides to ignore it but Pran was already shuffling away from him, leaving him empty and cold. Pat reluctantly pulls his phone out, about to curse the shit out of Korn for cockblocking him.

But he stops.

The person calling him was not Korn.

It was his father.

“I’m sorry again, Pran,” Pat sighs, turning off the engine to his bike as he walks with Pran to their apartment.

Pran shook his head, smiling when Pat entwined their hands just to walk a few steps to their apartments. He knew something was up with Pat the moment he picked up that call. Pran doesn’t know what it was about and all he knew was Pat’s grim expression as he told Pran that he had to go back. The whole journey back home, Pat was quiet, as if he was thinking about something. Pran didn’t want to pry because Pat looked like he wanted to be alone.

“Don’t be,” Pran smiles, caressing the policeman he had grown to like on. He pushes Pat’s fallen hair to the side as he leans against his apartment door. “We can go for breakfast again tomorrow after I finish my night shift,”

It was only five in the evening now. Pran was so sure he would get to spend his day until his night shift with Pat, but fate had other plans.

Pran feels reassured when Pat finally grins his usual blinding grin. He hugs Pran tightly and gives him a hard kiss against his lips, laughing at the sound of surprise coming from Pran.

Pran bids goodbye to Pat before entering his apartment and leaning against the door. He decides to spend his free time revising his medical terms.

It was almost midnight when Pran packed his bag for his night shift. He can’t help but miss Pat a little after today. Just thinking about Pat, everything about him from his wide grin to his caring aura and especially his soft lips, had Pran smiling.

He immediately snapped out of his trance and convinced himself that even Pat needed some personal space. Pran slung his bag over his shoulder and was ready to open his door and leave when he hears muffled voices coming right outside of his door.

“I told you, I’d visit you at home,” it sounded awfully similar to a certain officer Pran knew. He looked through the peephole of his door, noticing another man, his back facing Pran and his hands on his hips.

Pran took one look at Pat and visibly shivered. Pat had his fists and jaw clenched as if he was holding himself back. Pran saw his eyes, and he saw nothing but hatred. The eyes he had seen the other night when Pat caught his thief was only filled with anger. But this.

Pat looked completely broken and it destroyed Pran. He had known the man for only 3 months, yet one look at his unusual demeanor made Pran want to keep Pat behind him and protect him from whatever that’s hurting him.

Pran couldn’t hear much because he had been too focused on Pat’s angry eyes, but he was very sure it was not going well.

“Are you fighting back?” Pran jumped at the loud roar that came from the other man, hands already moving to the door, but holding back. The last thing Pran would want is for Pat to hate him for being nosey. “Do you what happens when you fight back, Napat?”

Pat closed his eyes, exhaling shakily before he opened them again to look at the man. His eyes were blank. Fear deposited in the bottom of Pran’s stomach.

“I’m not going to change my life, just because you don’t like it, Pa,” Pat raises his voice. “I’m finally happy, can’t you see?” his voice broke, and his eyes glistened under the dim lights of the hallway. “Would it kill for you to let me live my life in peace? I’m not your puppet to do whatever you want,”

Pran felt as if he was intruding. He walks away from his door, not wanting to interfere or eavesdrop on Pat’s personal problems. Pran decides to wait until the hallway is empty to leave. The voices outside his door grow louder and he desperately tries to ignore them, anxiety gnawing at his skin.

Unaware of what was going on outside of his room, Pran sits up at the sudden silence that ensures. He moves to his door again, looking through the hole, and Pran instantly regrets it.

He can’t see where Pat is, but he sees his father bent over, his arms reaching behind him and striking punches below him. Pran pales at the sight. He doesn’t waste any time flinging his door open and going between the father and son, which was actually a bad idea, given the fact that Pran gets punched too. However, he doesn’t budge, blocking the cruel man’s jabs from Pat who helplessly laid on the floor.

“Who are you?” the man above him was seething, face puffed up and red from anger, his arm still behind him in a fist.

“I’m his doctor, so please leave before I call the police,” Pran almost wanted to laugh at the irony of calling the cops while protecting a cop himself. He feels Pat shaking under him, his one hand unconsciously curling around Pran’s bicep. Pran’s heart weakens.

He remains strong for Pat, glaring at his father until he stomps away in anger. Pran waits until he hears the ding of the elevator before his shoulders relax and he finally turns to look at Pat. Pat wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were wide as he looked above him, still shaking. Pat is struggling to breathe and Pran knew all too well what was happening. He cages himself against the officer and hugs him tightly.

“It’s okay,” Pran whispers. “It’s okay, I got you. Everything will be okay,” Pran continues to whispers sweet nothings against Pat’s ears, feeling him slowly calm down and stop shaking in his arms. Pran runs his fingers through Pat’s hair, smiling when the broken officer finally takes a look at him. “You did so well,” Pran smiles, fingers lingering at the back of his neck. “How are you feeling now?”

At the sight of Pat, Pran knew that he shouldn’t be asking that. Pat had multiple bruises on his face from his father’s punches and his eyes are still blank. Pran continues to hold him tightly, letting Pat relax and go limp against him as he held all of Pat’s weight.

It took him a few minutes to finally notice that Pat had calmed down. He watches as Pat continues to blink and look between Pran and the ceiling. His hands are around Pran, just as tight. Pran finally notices some feel to his eyes.

“You’re back, hi,” Pran breathes with a smile, moving to push Pat’s hair. He doesn’t wait for Pat to answer before he gets up and pulls Pat with him, hugging him to his waist and maneuvering him to the couch.

Pran wastes no time in running back to his room to get his first aid kit because he was very sure Pat was very bad at keeping basic human necessities at his home.

“You should leave,” Pat whispers quietly. He watches as the man beside him peels off another plaster and carefully covers his bruise over his forehead. Pran does it with so much care and his touches were so light as if Pat would break.

Pran remained silent, cleaning up the final bruise against Pat’s cheek with a cotton wet with antiseptic. He let the man babble on.

“I’m not at the right mind to be myself, Pran,”

“I don’t want to hurt you,”

Pran was finally done with applying the medicine and he purposely applies more pressure than he intended, jumping at the sound of Pat whining in pain. He turned to Pran with a look of betrayal.

“What was that for?” he whined with a pout and Pran bit the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from smiling.

“Are you done with your moping?” Pran asks instead. He watches Pat look at him as if trying to read his face, but Pran was always good at masking his emotions.

“Pran I-

Pran cut him off by moving to hold his hands. “Did you really think I want to be with you only when you’re in a good mood?” Pran asked quietly, trying to mask the hurt in his voice, but failing when he feels Pat’s hand against his cheek.

“No,” Pat said so softly and if Pran wasn’t sitting so near the young officer, he wouldn’t have heard it. “I just want to be alone,” he lied. If lying was the only way to get Pran to leave without seeing the mess Pat would become, then so be it.

Pran looked at Pat’s eyes again.

They were always very bad at hiding his true feelings.

“Do you want to be alone because you don’t want me to see you like this, or do you actually need some time for yourself?” Pran already knew the answer, but he let Pat reply. He wanted Pat to know how bad of a liar he was.

Pat sighed, knowing Pran was always the one to win their silent competitions. “I don’t want to be alone,”

Pran nodded. “Then I’m staying,”

That was the end of the discussion.

Pran was quick to call Wai and convince him to take the night shift, promising his best friend that he would work both shifts the next day. It was going to be a pain in his ass, but finding new doctors for recruitment had been hard and if he doesn’t find more doctors sooner, Pran was definitely going to burn out.

“Are you hungry?” Pran asks, running his fingers through Pat’s hair as he lay on his lap, eyes closed and just resting. Pran’s heart swelled at the sight of him. He felt as if he had gained a missing piece. Pat’s hair was long, and it curled around his fingers as if stopping Pran from removing his hand.

Pat shook his head, eyes opening wide to look at the man above him. “No,” Pat whispered. “Will you..” Pat paused as if pondering on whether or not he should ask Pran the question.

Pran smiled, nodding his head to reassure Pat to ask his question.

“Will you be staying tonight?”

Pran stopped running his fingers. He hadn’t thought about that. When he entered Pat’s room, the only sign of a bed was the Queen-sized bed in Pat’s bedroom. Was he implying what Pat thought he was?

Pat watched as Pran’s eyes moved as he thought his question through. He immediately shot up and looked at Pran. “Not to do anything,” he immediately blurted out. “I just want to hold you,”

Pran’s heart sped up. He knew Pat was a hugger and can’t go to sleep without hugging anything. He had told Pran about that habit of his and right now, after watching the fight between his father and Pat, Pran can’t help but wonder if the lack of affection Pat was given when he was young resorted to him finding affection in the smallest things like hugging his doll to bed. His heart started to hurt.

Pran wasted no time in agreeing, smiling at the way Pat’s eyes widened in glee and his metaphorical tail wagged.

Pran got out of the bathroom wearing the spare and definitely oversized T-shirt Pat had given him, ignoring how much he loved the feeling of Pat’s shirt. He stood awkwardly at the door of the bathroom, eyes fixating on Pat that was already laying on the bed with his arms behind his head.

Pat extended one arm, a warm smile resurfacing on his face as he patted the empty space next to him. Pran shuffled shyly and laid his head right on the crook of Pat’s arm. He let Pat wiggle closer to him, almost laying on top of him with his hand against Pran’s chest.

“Your heart is beating fast,” Pat whispered, his chin on Pran’s chest as he looked at the doctor. Pran simply closed his eyes and lightly smacked Pat’s back.

They lay like that in silence, simply enjoying the warmth of each other. It was raining heavily and today felt so much nicer to have someone in Pat’s arms. Pat wondered how he had spent his nights without hugging Pran. The doctor under him fit perfectly into his frame as if he was a missing puzzle piece.

“Pran, are you asleep?”

“No,” Pran replied. When Pat opened his eyes, Pran was looking right back at him with a small smile.

“Could you..” Pat paused, ignoring the blush that crept up his face as he looked away and finished his question. “Could you touch my hair like how you did just now?”

Pran had no energy to even laugh at Pat. He was so enamored by the man on his chest that he wasted no time in tangling his fingers into Pat’s hair and giving him soft scratches and caresses, feeling Pat relax against him with a sigh.

“That night,” Pran whispered, fingers never leaving Pat’s head as the man clung onto Pran. “That night when we first met. What happened?”

It was a question that Pran always wanted to ask Pat but as each day came, it felt harder and harder to ask. As if Pran had no right to ask.

Pat hugged Pran tighter, his nose stuffed in the crook of Pran’s neck, not doing anything, just being there. “I had to go there to investigate a drug-dealing case. Turns out there were more men and one of them was armed. I would’ve taken them all down if I wasn’t stabbed, though,” Pat smirked when Pran rolled his eyes at the boastful man.

“Go to sleep, I’ve had enough of you,” Pran mumbled, smacking Pat but proceeds to wrap his arms around Pat even tighter, sighing in content.

This felt new.

And nice.

Very nice.

Before Pran let the sleep take over him, he felt a soft kiss against either side of his cheeks, right where his dimples were. “Goodnight, Pran,” he hears Pat whisper before he reaches to turn off the lights.

When Pran woke up, he almost whines at the missing weight on top of him. He rubs his eyes and opens them. The room was still dark except for the light coming out of the bathroom. Pran faces the bathroom, stretching himself to get rid of the ache in his body when Pat emerges out of the bathroom, freshly showered and only a towel wrapped around him.

Pran didn’t want to stare, but he did. He almost lost it at the sight of the one stray drop of water from Pat’s wet hair, trailing down his body, down the folds of his muscles and falling right into the dip of his belly button. Pran feels his shorts grow a little tight and he immediately slaps himself out of it.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Pat whispered as if someone else was in the room and he didn’t want to wake them up. Pran liked it, though. He liked when Pat whispers to him. Pran simply lays on the bed, watching as Pat walks to his side of the bed and sits at the edge.

He covers his warm hand over Pran’s and moves to place a soft kiss over his forehead and Pran feels like he could explode any moment from how gently Pat treats him. “Good morning,” Pat whispers, a fond smile appearing on his lips and Pran can’t help but peck at that smile.

“I have to head to work now,” Pat says, his smile morphing into a playful pout. “I wish I could just lay in bed with you all day,”

Pran smacks Pat’s bare chest in shock. “Stop saying things like that,” he mumbled, heart rumbling when Pat laughs.

Everything about him is so beautiful.

“I have to get to work early today, too many important meetings, and I know your work doesn’t start until nine. You can sleep in,” Pat continues to whisper, not wanting to ruin the early morning peacefulness around them. “I’ll leave the key at the coffee table,”

Pran lets Pat push his messy hair away from his face and give him another kiss. If Pran’s breath was stinking, Pat didn’t say a word. He continues to kiss Pran, hand against his neck. Pran wraps his arms around Pat’s broad back, ignoring the way his arms got wet from the droplets on his back.

Before things could get heated, Pran pushed Pat, chasing him to go get ready. Pran gets out of bed too, not wanting to see Pat strip naked in front of him because he clearly would. He closes the room door behind him and walks to the kitchen, deciding to prepare something for Pat to bring for breakfast.

Pat hated the idea of being alone in a room now that he had felt the warm embrace of Pran. He usually takes less than five minutes to get dressed but this time, he took only two. When Pat walks out of the kitchen, he was painfully blessed with the sight of Pran in his shirt and shorts, walking around the kitchen, making breakfast, and setting up the coffeemaker.

The only sound in his apartment was the soft whirring of the coffee machine and the sound of the knife slicing through the ingredients. Pran doesn’t realize that Pat is there, watching him. Pat takes his time to appreciate the view before him. Pran in his clothes, eyes barely open from tiredness, hair deliciously mussed from sleep. He took every inch of Pran in.

It took Pat a lot of restraint to not carry Pran back to bed and just hold him there. Instead, he walks up to Pran and leans against the counter, his smile never leaving his face. Pran doesn’t acknowledge Pat as he continues to make what Pat notices as a sandwich. Pran only turns to look at Pat when he needs to find a container to pack the sandwiches.

Pat immediately makes himself useful by showing Pran the cabinet that had all his utensils. Pran grabs the cup of coffee in the meantime and asks Pat if he liked his coffee with milk.

Pat doesn’t realize that he was staring.

“Pat?” Pran calls out, moving closer to the officer when he notices his silence. He sets the cup down and moves to inspect Pat’s wounds. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?”

Pat seems to jump back from that question, looking at Pran and immediately pulling him into a hug. Pran is surprised but he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Pat, sighing against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Pat whispers, smiling when he feels Pran chuckling.

Pran pulls back and looks at Pat, tsking when he notices how messy Pat looked. He moves to adjust the collar of Pat’s uniform, buttoning the first two buttons and adjusting his badges and nametag to be more straight. He ignores the way Pat’s hands fit against his small hips, thumb caressing his hipbone. He makes a side note to cut Pat’s hair when he was free. Pat surely cannot go for official meetings with his hair that grew on like a wild berry bush.

“For what?” Pran asks when he finishes adjusting Pat who finally looks like a decent police officer.

Pat shook his head, clueless. He was still smiling. “I don’t know,”

When Pat arrives at work, he was immediately greeted by the weird look his best friend gives him. Korn walks over to his best friend, eying him suspiciously.

“Why do you look extra neat today?”

Pat shrugs nonchalantly as he enters his office and is immediately greeted with the piles of reports he had to review. “I’m always like this,” he says.

Korn wasn’t having it. “You’re wearing your tie. You never wear your tie,”

Pat ignores Korn and starts reviewing his files as he waits for his first meeting of the day. Korn being the little shit he was, immediately sits on the chair opposite of Pat and places his chin on his propped up hand.

“Is this about the cute and neat doctor?” Korn grins, wiggling his thick eyebrows. Pat keeps a memo to shave those eyebrows in his sleep.

Pat closes his file and slumps against his chair dreamily. “I’m in love, Korn,” he whines to his best friend. His best friend howls in delight before motioning Pat to continue.

And Pat does. He spends two hours pouring out his feelings to his best friend.

“Pat you’re going to be late!” Pran hissed, pushing an extremely clingy Pat off him. Pat whines again and latches onto Pran, trailing kisses all over his neck, lips lingering over the bruises dotted against his skin. As much as Pran loved having Pat’s warm skin against his and his legs tangled with Pran’s, he knew better.

Pran was the only one that had the brains in the relationship.

“Five more minutes please, baby,” Pat mumbles, taking Pran’s hands and kissing the bruise around his wrists, smiling at the events of last night.

Pran hated himself for getting lost in Pat at the mention of his endearment. It's been a whole year since they got into a relationship and yet, Pran never fails to melt at Pat’s morning voice and Pat showering him with pet names.

Pran sighed, pulling his hands away from Pat and smacking his back a little too loudly. “You said five minutes twenty minutes ago!” Pran decides that leaving Pat alone in bed was the only option to force his boyfriend to get ready for work.

He gets out of bed, ignoring his shaking knees, and forcefully pulls the duvet away from Pat to cover himself, ignoring his blush from the sight of Pat in nothing but his boxers. “You told me you have to head to the court right?”

Pat simply rolled around and hugged Pran’s pillow to himself, sniffing it and sighing in bliss. “Korn can go in my place,” Pat mumbled.

Pran was not having his boyfriend’s behavior. “If you don’t get up right now, no sex. For a week,” Pran finally states, hiding his triumphant smirk when Pat widens his eyes and immediately springs out of bed.

Pran wraps the duvet around himself a little tighter as he fondly watches Pat shuffle around the room to get his towel. Before entering the bathroom, however, Pat’s mischievous smile resurfaces when he moves trapping Pran against the wall, fingers hovering over the duvet that hid his body. “Shower with me?”

It was an innocent request but Pran could clearly see the metaphorical tail wagging behind his boyfriend. It was six in the morning and Pran had no time and energy to meet his boyfriend’s horny needs.

“Pat I swear to god-

“Okay! Okay! I’ll go,” Pat surrenders, his sulky pout emerging as he walks into the bathroom, making no moves to close the door and Pran could only sigh in exhaustion. He rubs his wrists, although slightly in pain, Pran smiles fondly to himself.

When Pat pushes his arms into the sleeves of his uniform, he walks out to the kitchen and waits expectantly at Pran. Pran, who had been busy preparing Pat’s breakfast, sighs and rolls his eyes at Pat who makes grabby hands at him.

“I shouldn’t have helped you with your messy uniform that day. Now you’re like a big baby that needs me to do everything for you,” Pran nags but continues to carefully slip on the buttons so as to not crumple his shirt. Pat places his hands on Pran’s waist out of habit and pulls him closer, watching his boyfriend as he adjusts Pat’s uniform and his hair.

“I can only be like this around you,” Pat reasoned.

“You should cut your hair,” Pran frowns, combing Pat’s hair and taming the wild bush down. “It’s too long for a cop, no?”

Pat hummed, his fingers slipping under Pran’s T-shirt, basking in the soft skin of his hips. “You weren’t complaining about my long hair last night, though,” he smirked and leans into Pran’s ear. “I clearly remembered you holding on to it for dear life,”

Pran backs away from his perverted boyfriend with a smack. “One day, I’m going to poison your food and nobody would know who did it,” he snaps. Pat simply hugs Pran again and showers him with soft kisses, his heart soaring when he hears Pran’s half-hearted whines to hide his laughs.

“It’s a dream come true to die in my lover’s hands,” Pat sighs, not budging when Pran smacks him with the baguette he had bought.

“I have a night shift today,” Pran says as he packs Pat’s breakfast in a heat-resistant container and places it into a bag, letting Pat hold him from the back. “Don’t wait up for me,”

“But Pran…” Pat whines again like a lost puppy, forcing Pran to turn around and deal with his antics. “Who will I hug in bed then?”

Pran rolled his eyes, a smile threatening to escape his lips. “You did fine for 30 years with Nong Nao, why now?”

Pat huffed, turning his back on Pran. Pran wonders for the millionth time how people in the police station could actually take him seriously. Pran sighs and hooks his finger at the waistband of his uniform, pulling him against himself. He places a soft kiss against Pat’s cheek, lips lingering there.

“I’ll be back in the morning and we can spend the whole day together. It’s Saturday, remember?”

One thing Pat loved about his higher position was him being able to have his weekends off if there were no big cases to deal with. The thought of spending the weekends with his boyfriend was enough to make Pat happy. Pran watches as his puppy boyfriend nods with a wide smile, his metaphorical ears shooting up.

He hands Pat his little bag and walks into their room to double-check just in case Pat had left anything important. One thing Pran knew about his long relationship with Pat was that his boyfriend was a careless piece of shit.

“You forgot this,” Pran called out as he walks out of the bedroom to find Pat already in his shoes and waiting at the door. Pat looks up to ask Pran when he finds his boyfriend holding his handcuffs, a small smirk on his face. Pat almost, almost tackled Pran right there and then.

The handcuffs were almost forgotten at their bedside table. Pat takes the cuffs in one hand and grabs Pran by the waist in another. “How was it? I never got to ask you that,” he whispers, grinning at Pran’s red face.

Pran rolls his eyes and pushes Pat out of the door. “I’ll tell you after work when you bring those back,” Pran smirks, patting the pocket of Pat’s uniform, feeling the outline of the cuffs.

“You are such a tease,” Pat groans, head lolling on Pran’s shoulder. Pran laughs and pulls away.

“You’re going to be late,” Pran says. “Go,”

“Where’s my kiss?” Pat pouts, puckering his lips.

Pran cups his boyfriend’s cheeks and gives him a hard and long kiss, enough to last Pat throughout the day without missing him. “There,” Pran pulls back, smiling at his lover. “Have a great day at work, I love you,”

“I love you more,” Pat smiles as he walks away.

“I love you most!” Pran shouts.

“I love you more than most!”

“WELL, I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MORE THAN-

“You seem to be a little too happy to be escorting a criminal that just got sentenced to lifelong jail,” Korn whispered to his best friend as they waited for the court meeting to adjourn.

Pat sat at the last row, paying little to no attention at the hearing but snaps out of it at Korn’s remark. “What do you mean?” he frowns.

“Pat you’re playing with your handcuffs and you’re smiling,” Korn whispered back. “Literally what is so entertaining about the murderer?”

Pat shakes his head, shoving the cuffs into his pocket and glaring at Korn who just smirked.

“Someone had a fun night, didn’t he?” Korn nudges Pat, wiggling his eyebrows again. “You sly dog. Did you use the cuffs?”

“I’m not talking about my sex life with you, pervert,”

Before Korn could retort, another officer comes to them, saluting them in respect. “They just ordered us to bring the murderer to our station to fill up his formalities,”

Pat looked at his subordinate. “That’s too dangerous, he’s a big case,” Pat frowns. “Who even thought this was a good idea?”

The officer sighs in defeat. “It was the final decision, chief. We have no choice,”

“There will be many people at the station. Innocent ones. We can’t just-

Korn cuts Pat off with a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no point arguing over this, Pat. We’ll just have to be extra careful,”

Both angry and in defeat, Pat sighs reluctantly, moving to get the heartless murderer.

Pran decides to surprise Pat at the station before he heads to his clinic. Although he had a night shift, Pran was notified by Wai that he had managed to find new doctors for recruitment and Pran was more than happy to oblige. He needed more doctors so that he and Wai would have more time for their personal lives. Hence, he had to leave a little earlier to help the new doctors in getting to know their clinic.

Pat would be so happy to hear about this.

Pran knew Pat would be too busy to even think about having lunch, so he packs a bento box for his lover. Pran hated how Pat barely cares for himself, always eating takeaway boxes and drinking ridiculously unhealthy amounts of processed coffee. Although he nags a lot at Pat about taking care of the big baby, Pran secretly loves it. He loves caring for Pat and bringing him lunch and letting Pat shower him with compliments and kisses.

He can’t say that though.

Pran gets off the taxi and is immediately greeted by a swarm of reporters around the station and two of Pat’s rookie cops stood at the entrance, blocking them from entering. At the sight of Pran, the cops waved their hands.

“Hi Pran!”

Pran waves back, smiling at the two young boys. “What’s going on?” he asked after thanking them for letting him in and away from the crowd.

One of the rookies, Teera, shrugged. “We don’t know. They just told us to ward off the reporters,”

Pran nodded. “Is your chief in?”

“Yeah, but he’s in a sour mood,” Teera replied. “I almost got punched by him,” he shuddered at the thought of his scary superior.

He must be having a bad day, Pran thought.

“Then I’ll go in first. I’ll try cheering him up,”

Teera sighs in relief. Every time he deals with the wrath of Officer Pat, Pran comes in to calm him down, and then Pat is in a dreamy and lovesick mood the whole day.

Pran walks into the station, greeting the regular officers when his eyes zone in on one prisoner, sitting in the cell, staring right back at him. Pran was always told countless times by Pat to not make eye contact with prisoners that he sees, but this one was too late.

Pran immediately averts his gaze and waits patiently for Pat to come. It takes a few minutes, and Pran patiently waits with Pat’s lunch on his lap, legs shaking. He finally sees Pat coming out of one of the offices of the other chief, his jaw clenched and his eyes fierce.

Pran stands up with a smile and walks to greet Pat. Pat is talking to Korn as he walked, hands moving around angrily and Pran wonders what got him so worked up. When Pat’s eyes finally land on Pran, his heart drops.

Pran smiles at him, his dimples prominent. Pat, however, doesn’t smile at the sight of his lover like he usually does. His eyes are wide and he immediately walks to Pran, blocking him right in front of the prisoner’s cell.

“What are you doing here?” Pat hissed, his arms holding Pran tightly.

Pran looks up at his boyfriend in confusion, his smile faltering. “Pat, what’s wrong?” he asks, watching Pat’s eyes soften at Pran’s light touch.

He grabs Pran and pulls him inside his office in no time. “Pat-

“What are you doing here?” Pat’s voice was softer but it still had a fierceness to it.

“I-I came to give you your lunch,” Pran replied, his anxiety slowly getting the best of him when he doesn’t find Pat’s soft eyes. Pat looks completely foreign and it scared Pran.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Pat was exasperated; his tone painful. Pran had no idea what the issue was.

“I always surprise you at work. What difference does it make now?” Pran retorted, trying to mask the anger in his voice.

Pat sighs and moves to grip Pran by his shoulders. “Pran, listen-

Before Pat could even finish his sentence, they’re interrupted by loud screams and crashes. Pat’s eyes widen as he darts them to the door of the office and back at Pran’s confused ones. He pulls Pran to the corner of his office and shoves him into one of the empty cupboards.

Pat cups his lover’s neck, eyes focusing on Pran. “You stay here, okay? Don’t come out until I say so,” he grounds and spends no time waiting for Pran’s response before he sprints out of his office.

Pran hugs himself inside the dark cupboard, heart-throbbing uncontrollably and hands shaking. It must’ve been that prisoner. Pran remembered seeing his face on the news and how he was a psychopath that murdered 20 people in broad daylight.

He’s not a religious person, but he prayed. He prayed for Pat to be safe.

Pran visibly heard gunshots.

Pat.

He jumped at the loud noise, only Pat on his mind. It’s been ten minutes. Anything could have happened. Pran immediately pushes himself out of the cupboard and sprints out of the office. He was greeted by the broken desks and bleeding officers, the smell of blood and metal. Pran saw no signs of Pat.

He swallows the lump in his throat as he runs around the station to find Pat. He finally spots his lover ushering the innocent people out of the station and right in front of him, stood the prisoner with a gun. Korn was holding him down, clearly struggling with him thrashing around. Pat was too occupied with helping the people in the station to escape to notice the gun aimed at him.

It happened in less than a second.

“Pat!”

Pat turns around at the sound of Pran and before he could register what was happening, Pran runs into his arms and hugs him tightly.

And Pat hears the gunshots.

One at his thighs. Another by his hip.

Pat watches as Pran stands in front of him, hands gripping onto Pat’s uniform, eyes blank. Pat watches as Pran goes limp against him, falling to the floor. Pat holds Pran in time before he falls, holding him against his chest.

He immediately fishes out his gun and shoots the prisoner right on his head before looking down at his lover. Pran lay on Pat, eyes wide as he took in big gulps of breath. Pran’s shaky hands move to cup Pat’s cheek.

“Are you okay?” he croaks before moaning in pain when Pran feels the bullets dig painfully in him.

“You idiot,” Pat cries, one hand holding Pran and the other taking out his phone to call the ambulance. “Pran, you idiot. Stay with me, please,”

The last thing Pran sees is those fierce eyes, filled to the brim with tears and the cold sensation of Pat’s tears against his cheeks.

Pat sat by Pran’s bed, holding his hand and resting it against his cheek as he watches Pran sleep soundly. It was almost six in the morning and Pran still hasn’t woken up. Pat was still in his uniform that was stained with Pran’s blood.

One part of him wanted nothing more than to change his clothes and forget about the feel of Pran’s blood on his hands. Another part wants to stay right next to Pran until he wakes up. Pat figures the latter was a much better option.

And so, he sits and waits. He waits for hours, holding Pran’s hands and kissing them, and pushing his hair away from his face. Pat is thinking over that scene again and again. He hated himself. He hated for not telling Pran sooner. He hated everything. He hated how Pran was stupid enough to jump in front of him.

As Pat was busy hating over himself, the door to the Intensive Care Unit was pushed open and Pran’s mother walks in. Pat slowly disentangles himself from Pran’s hand and pays respect to his mother. His mother had come to the hospital immediately after Pran was shot. She had assumed that Pat was the officer in charge of him and walked up to him to ask about the details.

At which Pat burst into tears. Pran’s mother was clearly dumbfounded as to why this man was crying over her son when all she did was ask about the details. He was clearly fine, she had checked with the doctor beforehand. Not knowing what to do, Dissaya had placed a comforting hand on Pat and waited until he had calmed down.

“Are you okay?” Dissaya had asked Pat who nodded shakily. “Are you a friend of his?”

Pat looked up, eyes swollen from the tears as he wiped them with the back of his hand. “I’m his boyfriend,” Pat mumbles.

He had no idea he was talking to the mother of his boyfriend, though. Pat had a whole diary dedicated to the things he needed to do to impress Pran’s mom and he should probably flush that down the drain.

Thinking about it now, Pat wanted to hit himself with a brick for being such an idiot, but he refrained at the sight of Dissaya coming again. She walks over to them and hands Pat a bag. Pat shakily takes it and opens it to find a fresh set of clothes and a hot food container.

Pat looks up expectantly at the mother of his boyfriend.

“Go freshen up and come eat. You probably starved the whole day,” Dissaya orders. She didn’t have dimples but she had Pran’s bossy eyes and attitude. Pat could see where Pran’s tough love behavior came from.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Pat started, surprised at how rough his voice was. He quietly moves to the joint bathroom of the ward and cleans himself up before changing into the clothes Dissaya had brought him. He comes out of the bathroom to find Dissaya already plating the food on a paper plate.

She motions for Pat to come and eat while she took care of Pran. Pat thanks her again, ignoring the lump in his throat and the pain in his chest. Pat had forgotten how a mother’s love felt like. Watching Dissaya care for him in the most subtle way only made Pat’s heartache even further. He takes a spoonful of rice in his mouth and even if the gravy was too spicy for him, Pat doesn’t notice it.

Dissaya seems to catch the pain in Pat’s eyes. She looks at him as he eats, completely different from Pran. Pran eats little by little, slowly and neatly. Whereas the boy before her gobbled up his food, specks of rice falling on the table and cheeks puffed up with unchewed rice.

Dissaya couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you okay? Is the food good?” Dissaya asks nonchalantly. Pat raises his head immediately, struggling to swallow.

“It’s-

Pat pauses, swallowing his remaining rice and nodding. “It’s very delicious, ma’am thank you,” he says again.

Dissaya nods in approval, watching Pat as he ate and Pran as he slept. “How long have you known Pran?” Dissaya asks when Pat finishes eating.

Pat sits right next to Dissaya by the foot of the bed, mentally steeling himself for the waves of questions he was about to be asked.

“About a year, ma’am,”

Dissaya sighed in annoyance. “Stop calling me ma’am,” she paused.

If Pran was able to stay with a man for more than a year, Dissaya was pretty sure it was serious, so she lets Pat call her Mae. She watches the boy’s eye widen in shock before regaining his composure and testing out her nickname.

“How did you know him?”

“I.. got injured badly one day and Pran was the one that treated me,” Pat answers. Somehow, the interrogation of Pran’s mother seemed to be more nerve-wracking than waiting for Pran to wake up.

“And you,” Dissaya eyes the boy. “Are you an only child? Do you live with your family?”

Pat wished Pran was here to hold his hand and reassure him that everything was going to be alright. It was exactly what Pat envisioned when he goes to visit Pran’s parents for the first time.

 Right now, he simply plastered a smile and braved himself. “It’s just my Pa and me,” Pat mumbles. “I’m not on speaking terms with him, so it’s just me. Until Pran, though,”

Dissaya doesn’t pry. That would be a story for another day.

“Do you love Pran?” Dissaya asks.

Pat was quiet. He could feel the tears build up again and he tries his best to keep them at bay as he looks at Pran’s hands, having no strength to look at his sleeping face. He nods quietly, not looking at Dissaya.

“Very much, Mae,” he whispers, slapping a hand to his face when he feels the tears trickling down. He immediately wipes it off.

Pat feels a soft hand against his shoulder. He looks up to find Dissaya smiling sadly at him. “It’s not your fault, Pat,”

Pat woke up with a sore neck and back. His hands had become hot and clammy from holding Pran’s hand the whole night. He had slept on his arms next to Pran’s bed. Groaning in pain, Pat stretched his back and untangled his hand from Pran’s.

He looks at his watch and it was almost eleven in the morning. Pat noticed Dissaya sleeping on one of the sofas at the corner of the ward. He’s thankful enough that Pran’s mother was with him because god knows how Pat was going handle being alone with his thoughts.

Pat raises himself from the uncomfortable plastic chair and sighs at the sight of Pran in the same position he had been a day ago. Pat leans down to place a soft kiss on his lover’s forehead before deciding to go down and buy some breakfast for himself and Dissaya.

Among the two of them, Pran was usually the hardcore dumpling lover while Pat just likes to watch him eat. Today, though, Pat was craving dumplings for some unknown reason. He buys two servings of dumpling soup for the two of them and walks back to Pran.

When Pat arrives at the ward, he couldn’t see Pran. All he saw was the foot of Pran’s bed and multiple nurses swarming around the bed. His heart sped up and he almost dropped the dumplings when he ran towards them.

Pat goes to the foot of the bed and he stops breathing when he meets Pran’s tired eyes, looking right back at him. Pat ignores the trickle of teardrops against his chin as he rushes to Pran’s side and holds his hand while the nurses checked his health.

No words were said but Pat understood everything with the squeeze of Pran’s hand. Pran’s eyes never leave Pat’s glassy eyes as the nurses checked on him. He missed those eyes. He missed Pat’s wide and barrierless eyes.

When the nurses had left the both of them, Pat wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Pran and resting his head against Pran’s neck. Pat sniffled and held Pran close as he cried. He felt Pran chuckle and raise to run his fingers through Pat’s hair.

“You’re such a cry baby,” Pran teases, his voice giving away the pain he actually felt. Pat pulls away, eyes red and burning from crying.

“And you’re a fucking idiot for pulling that stunt,” Pat snapped back, feeling the painful ache in his chest slowly heal back.

Pran sighed, his hand moving up to wipe his lover’s wet cheeks. “And I’d do it all over again, Pat,” Pran replies.

Pat looks at Pran, “I’m sorry,” Pat whispers, placing a hand over Pran’s hand on his cheek. “I’m sorry I should’ve told you not to come,”

Pran shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for,”

Pat nodded but Pran clearly him lying for the sake of not continuing the conversation. Pran simply sighs, not knowing how to let Pat know that he was fine.

“Pat, look,” Pran raises his arms, ignoring the pain on his hip. “I’m fine,” he convinces Pat. Pat pulls Pran’s arms back to his side and scolds him for moving around.

Pran smiles.

“I love you, you know that right?” Pran asks, finally relaxing at the familiar doe eyes of Pat that were slowly coming out.

Pat nodded. He knew that Pran wasn’t the type to always say those three words but he knew how much Pran loves him. “I know,” Pat replies.

Dissaya walks into the room, smiling fondly at her son. She rarely saw Pran be affectionate with anyone like that. Seeing Pran care for Pat and protect Pat was something new for her to see in her son. Nevertheless, it was something nice. Dissaya had just finished talking to the doctor about her son’s condition. She had been there when Pran woke up and wasted no time in calling the nurses.

“Mae,” Pran calls with a smile. Dissaya moves to sit on the other side of Pran, holding his other hand.

“How are you feeling, Pran?” Dissaya asks, soothingly rubbing her thumbs against the back of Pran’s hand.

Pran hums, “I’m okay. It just hurts a little, but that’s normal,” he replies.

Pat sits up, eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Does it hurt a lot? Do you want me to-

“Pat,” Pran laughs, utterly in love with the man before him. “I’m hungry,” he changes the topic because Pran was indeed hungry.

Pat turns to the table beside him and hands one serving of the dumpling soup to Pran’s mother. “I bought dumpling soup for you and Mae,” Pat takes out the spare plates from the drawers and helps Dissaya to plate the food.

Pran watches curiously as his mother and Pat shuffle around to prepare breakfast. He still watches when Pat carefully holds him while Dissaya raises the bed a little to Pran could sit.

“When did the two of you become so close?” Pran asks, pointing his finger at his mother who just waved him dismissively.

“You didn’t introduce me to your boyfriend, so this was a pleasant surprise,” Dissaya says, hiding her smile when Pat force-feeds Pran.

“Well,” Pran swallows the dumpling before looking at his mother. “Do you like him?”

Dissaya shrugs, her lips jut out in a pout. Pat almost laughed at how similar that expression was to Pran’s. He had seen that expression on Pran countless of times, when Pran wanted to be playful and lie.

“He’s alright,” Dissaya lies, hiding her smile.

That was enough for Pran.

“I’m home,” Pat calls as he enters his apartment, toeing off his shoes and unbuttoning the first two buttons of his uniform.

Pran lay on the sofa, a novel in his hands as his eyes light up at the sight of his boyfriend coming home after a long day. The wound on Pran’s thigh and hip throb painfully when he tries to get up. Pat notices Pran’s effort and immediately runs to his lover, kneeling next to him and showering him with kisses.

“I told you not to get up,” Pat scolds lightly, placing one last kiss against Pran’s lips.

It has been a week since Pran’s discharge from the hospital and Dissaya had given the heads up to let Pran stay with Pat. Pat was more than thankful for Dissaya being able to take care of Pran during the day. He had tried to request to work from home for a few weeks, but with the case of the murderer that shot Pran, Pat had to spend his days making up for the loss, dealing with angry higher officials for shooting the criminal dead.

He somehow managed to work only during the day and put a hold on his night shifts, which was a good thing so far.

“Have you eaten?” Pran asks, absentmindedly running his fingers through Pat’s hair.

Pat only hums in response, lifting Pran’s shirt to check on his wound. The wound was still new but his stitches were slightly healing although still very much sensitive. Pran was good at taking care of himself since he knew how to treat wounds correctly, so Pat had less to worry about.

“Did Mae come today?” Pat asked.

Pran nodded. “She just left. She also brought some side dishes for you to eat,” Pran replies, placing a soft kiss against Pat’s forehead. Pat smiled.

One thing he had gained from this horrible accident was Pran being more touchy and affectionate to him. Pat finally discovers that as much as he loves to coddle Pran, he likes it, even more, when Pran coddles him.

“Go take a shower,” Pran pushes Pat lightly. “You stink,”

It was their unspoken thing. Whenever Pran asks Pat to take a shower, it was also a silent request for Pat to help Pran to shower. Getting shot in the thigh was one of the painful things Pran had experienced. It’s even worse than the hip injury because Pran can’t walk at all. Pat had gotten him a wheelchair just in case he needed to go somewhere but nobody was there, but Pran hated that wheelchair so much. It made him feel weak. He was thankful enough that he wasn’t given an opportunity to use it since his mother or Pat was always by his side.

Showering, though. That was another headache. Pran hated going to bed without showering. He needs to shower at least twice a day. With his injury however, Pran was lucky enough to have the best boyfriend that knew exactly what he needed every time. Pat was fast in reading his boyfriend. He wastes no time in helping Pran to shower.

Even now, Pat wastes no time in carefully carrying Pran and setting him down on the toilet seat. He grabs the plastic wraps and wrap Pran’s wounds tight enough to make sure they don’t get wet. Pran watches Pat concentrate and cleans him up, careful to not get soap in his eyes or wet his wound. Pran sighs in bliss when Pat massages his head, down to his neck and shoulders.

When Pat finishes showering Pran, he grabs a towel and dries his boyfriend’s body followed by his wet hair. Pat grabs a hairdryer to dry Pran’s hair so that he doesn’t catch a cold. Pran has a permanent smile etched on his face as he watches Pat take care of him. He watches Pat’s large hands remove the plastic wraps and slip on his boxers so softly to not hurt Pran. He lets Pat carry him to their bedroom, arms wrapping around his neck.

Pran’s hips would start to hurt more if he slept on his back for more than an hour, so Pat always places him on his stomach, not wanting to hurt his lover. He covers the duvet over Pran and kisses his boyfriend with a loving smile. “Go to bed, baby. I’ll be back,”

Pran nods, watching Pat rush into the bathroom and shower in the blink of an eye. He doesn’t even wipe himself properly before slipping on his boxers and getting into bed with Pran. Pran slowly raises himself to let Pat go under him so he can lay on top of Pat.

Pran smiles against Pat’s warm and flushed chest, hugging him closer. “Pat,” he whispers without opening his eyes. Pran feels the soft vibration of Pat’s chest when he hums in response. “Are you happy?” he asks.

Pat opens his eyes and places his finger on Pran’s chin to pull him to look at him. “I am,” Pat replies, eyes big and sincere. Pran simply nods. He hugs Pat closer, feeling Pat chuckle and wrap his arms around Pran’s hips, just above the wound. “Where is this coming from?”

Pran shrugs. “I just..” he pauses.

“Being with you feels like freedom,”