Work Text:
“Do you miss me?”
Pat scoffs at his boyfriend on the phone as he takes off his suffocating work attire and wraps a towel around his waist. “You’ve only been gone for one month,”
Yes, yes I miss you so much but I know that if I say that it would end in you feeling guilty. I rather suffer in silence than see you feel bad for pursuing your dreams.
“You’re not answering my question,”
Pran’s voice is rough, low and perfect. Pat knew that his boyfriend is drunk with sleep after an exhausting day at work. It was the voice Pat yearns to hear right next to his ear every night. When Pran struggles to stay awake by Pat’s side because he didn’t want to fall asleep before him. His stubbornness soon led to Pat falling deeply in love with Pran’s sleep riddled voice.
They couldn’t text, couldn’t even call during lunch hours like they normally do today. Pat was too busy losing his temper of the smallest of things and Pran, was too busy being a perfectionist. Even now, as Pat slips his phone into the waterproof casing he had bought the second they decided to long distance, they don’t speak.
Pat turns on the shower for a quick rinse because he can never quite go to bed without a shower nowadays. Pran had rubbed off on him.
“Are you showering?” Pran asks.
Pat only hums, smiling to himself as he lathered his body up with soap. “Why? You want to video call?”
“Asshole,” Pran laughs, enough to send shivers down Pat’s spine.
“Have you eaten?”
“Mm,” Pat hums as he dries his body off and covers himself with a towel. “Let me see your face,”
Pran hums suspiciously, “Are you naked?”
“You act like you’ve never tasted every inch of my skin,” Pat rolls his eyes at no one. Pran doesn’t reply and when Pat pulls the phone off his ear, he notices that the line was cut.
Less than a minute later, Pran’s video call request vibrates on Pat’s phone. Pat smiles. Almost immediately, Pran’s tired face comes into his view. He’s lying against the headboard of his bed, wearing only a tank top and the gold chain Pat had gifted him for their fifth anniversary. They don’t speak.
A minute later, Pat says; “I’m in my shorts but you look more naked than me,” he speaks. Pran smiles, but rolls his eyes.
“That’s because you’re a horny bastard,”
“Anyone with a boyfriend like you would be horny, Pran,” he speaks so seriously that Pran blushes red.
Pat holds Pran in his hand and walks around their apartment to switch the lights off and grab a glass of water for the night. Pran’s eyelids are already drooping low every time Pat sneaks a glance at his boyfriend. When Pran hears the shuffling of sheets, he opens his eyes to see Pat already on his side of the bed.
“That’s my side of the bed,” Pran muses. “Are you sure you don’t miss me?”
“Your side is nearer to the air conditioner,” And it also smells like you.
“Right,” Pran smiles.
“Can you tell me a story?” Pat whispers.
It was their favorite thing to do during rainy nights, or bad days, when missing each other becomes too heavy for them to bear.
Pran’s eyes soften on the screen. He knew that Pat had a bad day the second he heard his boyfriend’s tired sigh when he answers Pran’s call. Pran doesn’t ask, knowing how much Pat would just want to forget. And if he really wanted to talk, Pat would speak.
“Hm, let’s see,” Pran speaks drowsily and Pat already feels his eyelids going heavy. “Today, I found out that chewing gum here is illegal,”
“What?”
Pat cranes one eye open and almost laughs at how bright and wide Pran’s eyes were when he spoke. Pran releases a surprised laugh too. “I’m not kidding, one of them asked me how chewing gum tasted like and I was trying so hard to not laugh,”
Pat hums but continues to listen to Pran speak.
“No wonder it’s so clean here. And people rarely use cars because its so small here. I can just walk to any place. Also, I told Max that we have different flavors of gum and he looked at…
“Why do you sound like that?”
Pat falls flat on his face the second he reaches home. Pran is connected on his Bluetooth earphones as he groans. “A guy was hitting on me at the bar,”
“And..?”
Pat removes his face from the pillows and lies on his back. He stares at the ceiling and wills his throbbing heart to calm down. Pran is here, he is Pat’s boyfriend and he is here. “I told him I’m in a long-distance relationship. He seemed so understand at first, but then he started touching me like we knew each other for ages,”
Pran remains quiet as Pat spoke and he already knew that his short-tempered boyfriend was not having it. If anything, Pran was possessive.
“I told him to stop touching me very politely, Pran,” Pat whines. “Then he told me that long distance never works; it either ends up in one cheating, or both growing tired of waiting. And I was so angry. He told me that there was no use for me to be so loyal. He told me that I would forget about you if we spent the night together.
“I was so angry, Pran,”
Pat was not a baby. He wasn’t. But his vision started blurring, probably because of the dust. Pat really needed to clean his apartment soon. He slaps a tired hand over his face and rubs away the tears.
Pran is silent on the other line to the extend of Pat wondering if he was even there. Before he could open his mouth to call out for his lover, Pran speaks again.
“Put me on video call,”
Pat doesn’t bother asking why solely from the way Pran sounded. He was pissed, Pat knew. Pran was probably mad that he couldn’t be there to at least decorate Pat’s neck with marks and watch Pat show it off like a necklace to everyone.
He scrambles onto his knees, sits square on the middle of their bed and puts Pran on video call. When Pran answers, Pat notices how clenched his jaw was. It was adorable, seeing Pran offer him a smile despite being pissed off as fuck.
“Get the vibrator out, baby,”
Pat gasps, ignoring the way heat immediately pools into his stomach. “Now?”
Pran nods, a hint of his cocky smirk on his lips and God, Pat fucking loved it when his boyfriend becomes a total asshole. He feels his cock twitch just at the sight. Pat realizes how long it has been since they’ve had sex.
“It’s been a while, right?” Pran’s voice is low and absolutely doing all the right things to Pat’s insides. He remembers all the nights where Pran would whisper the absolute nastiest things in Pat’s ears and watch him come just from that.
“Didn’t you say you have a meeting tomorrow?” Pat asks despite moving to the bedstand to open the lowest drawer where he keeps all the toys Pran buys for him. Pat had never been a fan of spicing up things in the bedroom simply because all he needed was Pran and Pran alone.
But one day, Pran had come from work with a wide grin on his face and a huge dildo in his hands and after that, all Pat could remember is the way Pran looks when he’s tearing Pat down piece by piece.
“There are more important things to deal with; Like making sure my boyfriend knows who owns him,”
“Fuck, Pran,” Pat bites his lips, hoping that everyone around his apartment is asleep because he has come to know that the walls are very thin, and Pran has a tendency to make Pat scream his name when he’s feeling extra possessive.
Like now.
“There’s only one thing you need to do for me, baby,” Pran smiles so innocently even as he speaks so dirtily. “You know that right?”
“Pran,” Pat closes his eyes, already removing his pants and palming himself over his boxers. “It’s still fairly early, they might hear me,”
“That’s the point. So make sure everyone hears who you belong to,”
When Pran calls again, Pat tries not to tell him how much he misses his boyfriend. It has been six months without Pran. And every day, the hole in his heart only grows larger.
It’s way past midnight when Pran video calls him and Pat had just entered his car after long hours of football matches with Korn and his other friends. Pat usually hits the gym when he hated coming back to an empty home, but he didn’t want to be alone tonight. And none of his friends like going to the gym.
“Why are you sweating so much?”
Pat slumps against his seat once he attaches his phone to its holder in the car. Pran has a clear view of Pat despite being pixelated from the reading light he had turned on. When Pran looks at his usual polyester rugby jersey, he understands.
Pran’s hair is messy as if he had just woke up from sleep. His cheeks are puffed and flushed red; he looks so cuddly, Pat’s heart squeezes painfully. He coughs and starts the engine, driving in silence while Pran watches him.
Pat knew that if he spoke right now, he would either cry, get mad at Pran for no reason, or tell Pran that he misses him. So he prompts to just drive while Pran does the talking. He drives for exactly one kilometre and stops at a traffic light.
Pran is still just looking at him. Their eyes meet, and Pat honestly thought the pain in his heart had reduced, but it amplifies more when Pran looks at him the same way he looks back. “Why did you wake up?” Pat speaks this time. His voice comes out rough and forced. Pat misses Pran so much.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Pran answers, rubbing his face and pushing his hair up. He leaves his sentence at that but Pat knew the unspoken words between them.
Pat forces a smile despite his all his muscles wishing to go the wrong way. “I’m right here, baby,”
Pran hums, a small and tired smile on his face. He leans back on his pillows and grips the chain around his neck. “Can you tell me a story?” Pran whispers.
He’s almost relieved when those words come out of Pran. The words were right at Pat’s throat and they would come out at any moment if Pran hadn’t asked him.
“Hmph,” Pat hums, eyes focused on the empty road. “Today, I went home for dinner with my family. The plan was to stay the night there because I didn’t feel like sleeping alone,”
Pat ignores the way Pran’s eyes shoot open and he listens intently.
“Mae made Massaman,”
“That’s your favourite,” Pran muses. “You always beg me to make that for you,”
Pat hums. “I miss the way you make it. Eating Mae’s curry reminded me of you but I couldn’t dwell much on it because Pa was right there. While we ate, he kept asking me stupid questions about our future; One that he clearly knows I’m going to spend with you.
“He kept talking to me about the daughters of his business partners and how they were single and finding for grooms. I was okay at first, but then I grew tired of him so I,” Pat gulps, hoping that Pran doesn’t get angry. He’s quite sleepy, so Pat hopes that Pran becomes too tired to nag.
“I sort of told Pa that I already have someone and that we’re in a serious relationship,”
“What?”
Thankfully, it wasn’t an angry what, more like a surprised one. Pat nods, unable to look at Pran. “If he knew better, he would drop the conversation. Our relationship is the worst kept secret ever, Pran,”
Pat drives into the basement of his apartment complex and parks his car when Pran mumbles again; “What did he say then?”
“Well,” Pat manages a smile. “He changed the topic. Asked me when I was going to buy a house because the prices were rising. I told him when my boyfriend returns from Singapore,”
Pat laughs at himself and then harder when Pran’s eyes go wide and he sits up on his bed. “Paa was so scared she kept pinching me under the table. I couldn’t care less. I’m not dependant on him to listen to what he says. If he loves his son, he’d know when to back off from my love life,”
Pran huffs out a small huh. “You’ve grown so much, Napat,”
Pat switches the engine off and frowns excessively at Pran. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Pran only laughs this time, dimples emerging. Pat wonders how long has it been since he has kissed them. “Nothing, baby. I just love you,”
Pran comes back from home at almost one in the morning. It has been a tiring day for him at work and all Pran wishes he could do is hold Pat and sniff every inch of skin he feels under his nose. Pran never said it out loud but one of his favourite things to do when Pat slept like a baby was to sniff him in all the places he could reach.
He’s not exactly obsessed with Pat’s smell like how Pat is about Pran. It was more like Pat was so beautiful, so handsome and all Pran’s that he could never believe it. So he would bury his nose deep in Pat’s hair, or his cheek or his biceps and inhale deeply until it finally registers into his brain that the soft skin under his nose is not a fragment of his imagination.
He misses doing that so much. Pran notices that they have a silent bet between them; they never seem to get those out of their systems. Pat is adamant on not wanting to admit that he misses Pran and Pran, being the competitive asshole he is, could not back down without a fight.
When he comes back home today, and plugs his dead phone into the charger, Pran’s heart almost drops at the sight of 20 missed calls from Pat. He falls to the floor where his phone is plugged in and calls Pat almost immediately. Pran prays that Pat would pick up.
“Hello?”
“Pat?” Pran gasps. “Thank God, oh, thank God,” Pran involuntarily sobs out. “Fuck, you scared me,”
“Pran?”
“Yes, baby,” Pran lets the tears flow freely down his cheeks, the exhaustion and sadness finally breaking the dam in his heart. “Yes, I’m here, Pat,”
He hears Pat’s sniffles too and Pran wonders how much longer are they going to let themselves suffer like this. He speaks, and he sounds horrible. His voice is rough and croaky; Pran knew that he had been drinking.
“I fucking miss you Pran,” Pat sobs out.
It was enough for Pran.
When Pat wakes up, he feels completely energised despite becoming blackout drunk from last night. Its well into the afternoon when his eyes open. The sheets are bundled around him like a sushi wrap and Pat feels warm all over. It’s been so long since he felt warmth after waking up.
The first thing he does is call Pran. He answers in the first ring. “You’re awake?” Pran chuckles.
“You won’t believe the dream I just had,” Pat sits up on his bed, releasing an incredulous laugh as he rubs the sleep away from his face.
“Oh, please, enlighten me,”
Pat crosses his legs excitedly. “So yesterday I drank so much that I knew I’d be a mess today. But then, you came in my dream like an angel,” Pat gushes and Pran laughs into the phone. “You took care of me, held me tightly exactly how you would do whenever I drank so much.
“Hm,” Pran muses. “What else did I do?”
“You held me when I vomited, brushed my teeth, gave me kisses,” his heart starts to hurt again. “God, it all felt so real,”
“Did I also wipe you down?”
“Don’t make me sad,” Pat sighs, slumping back on his bed. “How perfect would it be..” Pat pulls. “If you were here, making me breakfast and feeding me like how you do whenever I have a hangover,”
“Sorry, baby,” Pran laughs. “I’m not there to make you breakfast. Is it okay if I buy you some?”
Pat laughs at that. “And what, ship it here to Thailand?”
“No,” Pran hums.
Just then Pat hears the door to his bedroom crinkle open and Pat really thinks he should stop drinking. Because Pran is standing there, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder as he brings in bags of breakfast for them.
“No fucking way,” Pat gasps.
Pran laughs and jerks his chin at the luggage that he had stored in the corner of their room. “Still think this is a dream?”
Pat doesn’t say much but simply tackles Pran to the bed and kisses him until they lose their breaths.