Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Build waits in the queue with other excited fans, holding the ticket while checking his mask and hat the thousandth time. Wearing sunglasses at the deadass night was like putting a sign with a capital suspicious on it above his head. So he chose a long hair wig, tying loosely with a Klein blue butterfly scrunchie on his back matching today’s cast theme, and a pair of big glasses that covered half of his face with the help of his bangs. As long as he keeps silent and has his feminine attire intact, no one would be any wiser.
He wants to be here, the EP 14 live reaction. He thinks he has earned the right to witness the end of Vegas and Pete’s story, so he kept quiet and planned when the company decided it would be better for him to stay underwater longer.
“It’s ok”, he remembered repeating that to P’Mile at their world tour workshop room, same as what he said to their manager and P’Pond. It’s lunch break. Build had little appetite so he stayed behind, and also P’Mile who obviously had something to talk to him.
“Nong, we are not de-crediting you, please believe this. You bring Pete alive. You’re excellent.” P’Mile’s eyes locked in his, and he believed him, without doubt.
“I understand, Phi. Don’t worry na. I’m grateful that the company gave me another chance.” He said, holding his signature smile that he just practiced this morning in his bathroom.
P’Mile undoubtedly saw through his stretched façade. These days, it’s hard to pretend his way through difficult discussion with people who have known him. He should try harder in his smile practice.
P’Mile wanted to say more, but Bible entered the room just now. He looked at both men, curiosity radiated from him like a physical aura. He had live that afternoon, and he asked Build where he was before P’Mile caught him with a serious talk.
Sensing they were having a private conversation, Bible walked to the other side of the room after giving a simple sawasdee towards both men.
Having Bible in the room, P’Mile noticed the slight frown on Build’s face and his swaying attention. He gave an inaudible sign, just patted Build on the shoulder. “You have our full support na. All of us. Just tell me when you need anything, ok?”
He nodded under P’Mile sincere eyes, smiling a little, and watched him walking out of the door.
For that instance, the reassurance was enough. But like years before, pessimism was written bone deep.
He looked back, watching Bible walking closer. To avoid unwanted topics, Build threw one out first.
“Want me to help with the make up?” That should have distracted him enough. Bible couldn’t not argue every time someone suggested to put make up on him. And Build had known that dance well enough to handle.
“Ok.” Bible agreed, way too easy than what Build had expected, throwing him off for a loop.
Build moved away to pick up the make up bag he brought along for work, a bit confused, with Bible quietly following.
They sat under the window, basking in the mid-day light. It was a beautiful day. The sun was harsh and high. No clouds in sight.
Build dipped the sponge in foundation and softly put on Bible’s face. He had good skin. Sometimes he looked like those expensive ice jade under spotlight, fluorescent and transparent.
He leaned in closer to draw the brow pencil carefully. He could count Bible’s eyelashes from there. They were long and straight, moving along with their matching breathing.
“Have you had lunch?” Bible asked, eyes intense as always.
Build was so immersed in the work on hand that he was startled from his quiet mind place by the question.
“No.” He held Bible’s razor like attention for a few seconds before fluttering away to hide, pretending to search for the lipstick. “I’m not hungry.”
“Hmm” is Bible’s only reply, not saying more, which was strange.
Build turned back, gently applying the lipstick on Bible’s lips, couldn’t help but being alerted.
They had several heated discussion on Build’s close to none eating lately. The food on his plate was always left untouched. Too many thoughts swirling in head makes his appetite scarce.
No doubt, Bible holds a different opinion. He believes in exercise. To train one’s body to accept food and nutrition regularly which needs said body to have meals no matter what the condition is. Thereby, the argument began.
But it seemed Bible wasn’t in the mood to reason that day. He just silently watched Build who was focusing on his lips, using his pinky to smooth out the lipstick. His fresh scent was like summer wilderness.
Build was waiting for any come back, but nothing arrived. What’s with him today? He wondered, curiously looking up to check and inevitably clashed in Bible’s eyes.
They had done all kinds of staring by then. They were Vegas and Pete once. Eyes locked, high on the ecstasy and happiness on the other’s face, soul soaring and feeling like reborn. Or love and hate flew together with words stabbed like knives. The pain made love a shattered illusion. They were also Bible and Build, staring at each other in front of the live staff and internet, shy and excited, confident that they have each other’s back.
Right then, they were still Bible and Build. Nothing should change he hoped. But Bible’s eyes, shone like dark whisky under blinding sun, were telling something different and commanding Build to listen.
He felt trapped and a bit difficult to breathe in their close proximity. Bible’s eyes are always honest, quiet and perceptive. At that moment, they’re so perceptive that he felt raw and desperate. He heard something broken in the distance.
“What do you think? Of it.” The question escaped his mouth like it had its own consciousness.
They both were shocked hearing it. While Bible only widened his eyes, Build bit his own lips hard to bleed.
God, killmekillmekillmekillmekillme.
Second time in a while, Build felt the fear and weightlessness like standing at the edge of a cliff, milliseconds before falling.
The question should be ambiguous and general to anyone had heard, but Bible didn’t ask for clarification or waste time on composing his words.
“What you said was wrong. No one has functional morality would ever say that. It’s distasteful and disappointed.” The “I expected more from you” was left unsaid but loud and clear.
Build coiled back fast like he just got slapped, putting distance between himself and Bible. He was tensed, whole body constricted for a fight, eyes casting down at his own hands, pinky still wet from the lipstick.
This was the first time they ever acknowledged the “issue” to each other. They met less recently and in the few times they met, Build successfully kept their conversion under food topics exclusively.
When they weren’t together, Build was busy having meetings with their manager and marketing team, explaining and analyzing his 8-year-old posts, his mistakes, his apologies and fan’s reaction in said meetings, and dazed out of his body most of the time.
He’s breathing, talking but didn’t acknowledge what he was doing. He was a mess. A ghost of what he was before.
Something touched his head. Build jumped. He took it down. It was Bible’s hat. A white rose embroidered on front.
“Please put it on.” Bible asked, voice still gentle and soothing as his previous cutting words.
Build was bewildered, but still put on the hat as asked. When he looked up at Bible, his eyes were obscured by the hat’s brim and shadow.
“Repeat after me. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“What??” Build stuttered. “Bible, I don’t understand.”
“Just repeat after me, please.” His face was soft and open, eyes sincere.
Build hesitated for long minutes, unsure what’s going on and if it’s going to be some weird ass scolding. But his curiosity won. He repeated slowly in English while kept his eyes on Bible’s face, trying to figure out where he’s leading both of them.
“What’s your name, khun?”
“Build.” He couldn’t help but be a little sarcastic.
“Why are you here today? Remember, God’s listening. Be true.”
Build’s not stupid. On the contrary, he’s smart and sensitive, but what’s happening just too surreal to process.
He can’t be doing what I think he’s doing.
“This is blasphemy.” He finally said.
A little curve hung at Bible’s lips. “I’m aware. And I’m called Bible. Blasphemy is born with.”
He smiled at that too though he schooled it down quickly. He answered while looking to the other side, away from Bible’s unwavering eyes. “I don’t think it works like this.”
Confessing to a God that he doesn’t believe in in front of a false priest? Absurdity.
“It’s not the method but honesty that matters.”
“You already know what happened.”
“No, I don’t know your side of the story.”
Build looked back at Bible, a bit defensive now. “There is no story. I did what I did. And you already gave your opinion.”
“I gave my opinion on the man who said those things eight years ago. I want to hear from you, the you now with me.”
Build’s a bit breathless, taking no misunderstanding on Bible’s obvious standpoint. “Don’t you think it’s a bit biased that you’ve already believed I’ve changed?”
Even with the hat brim and shadow, at that exact moment when Bible answered, Build felt his eyes were looking straight into the depth of his soul. “I felt what I felt. And I believe in myself.” And you was hung in the air.
How he could be this confident, Build didn’t know. He thought back to the two times when he saw the notification of Bible liking his apologies before anyone else. Gratitude, guilt and worry swarmed his chest just like it was now.
He felt his throat closing up and tears gathering. He didn’t want to cry in front of him.
He looked down, hiding again, picking hard on his nails while taking deep breaths.
“Bless me,” he repeated after centuries in silence, eyes closed, to the unfamiliar God and the too willingly fake priest next to him. He thought he could try.
“Father, for I have sinned. I said something that harmed others. I didn’t remember why exactly I said them and it’s not an excuse to be forgiven.”
“But do you want forgiveness?” Bible asked.
“I,” Build stopped, trying to find his words and voice. “I don’t think anyone could give it to me. Those things, they weren’t said to a specific person.”
“Father,” he squeezed out one smile, strange like a skew mask. “How should I repent? I’m stuck at a place and don’t see the end.”
Bible was quiet after hearing that. Both of them were in deep contemplation. Some time passed, maybe seconds, maybe hours, Bible’s quiet voice bloomed in the room.
“You said you don’t know how to repent, but you already choose a punishment. Does starving help?”
Build didn’t have answer for that, though he’s not surprised that Bible found out he’d been consciously starving himself. Those food arguments were enough proofs.
Did it help? With amending the damage, no, not at all. Build understood fully that only time could prove he’s changed. There’s nothing more to explain or do that wouldn’t make him look fake or dishonest.
But.
“In hurting yourself, have you found the salvation you’ve been seeking? The pain you inflicted on yourself can’t compensate the pain you caused. Your repentance serves two purposes and you’re putting the one for yourself first.”
Shame and anger flooded him. The lies he’d been telling himself were tore off and exposed before the person he tried to hide from.
His head hung lower and face hot. The exhaustion and resentment that had been growing in the past week suddenly surged up like tsunami and drown him instantly.
“No.” Build finally said, breaths unsteady, voice so tiny one could barely heard. He looked up at Bible, face flushed and tears dropping. “But what else could I do? I can’t sleep. Every time I lay on bed, I feel suffocated. It’s eating me. I want it stopped.”
~~
Build’s tears stunned Bible. He never saw Build cry outside of acting, not when he puked after a day full of harsh physical training, not when he hurt himself accidentally on the Red Room scene and bled, not when he decided to go on hiatus and everyone in office came to see him.
Bible was upset and at a loss with his tears but also, deep down, somehow, he’s giddy with joy.
He felt special and he liked it a lot. He couldn’t not feel weak and strong in the presence of Build’s vulnerability, his fear, his frustration that he rarely shared.
I want to be the only one.
He moved closer to Build, taking the hat off him for it’d served its purpose and the confession was no longer needed to continue.
He wiped away Build’s tears carefully and held his face between his hands like something precious. Build had lost much weight from his own punishment and it showed. His jawline was more prominent and his apple cheeks lost some of its roundness. But he’s still cute. Pretty. Especially with his wet eyes and eyelashes. He’s so fragile and he wanted to hide him away from the world and kept him at home.
That thought alone was dangerous.
Build didn’t fight him for their position and looked at him so openly, his doe eyes round and beautiful.
Some of his fringes sticked to his forehead with perspiration. Cute. He thought and hand combed Build’s hair back, fixing it on either side.
Build froze in his hands for a mere second. That gesture overstepped on whatever boundary they’d set long time ago. And both of them knew it. Something uncontrollable was happening but they couldn’t steer themselves to look away.
He leaned in further to Build, looking at the face resting in his hands, breathing in sync with him like it’s his second nature.
He’s done with the confession and playing jury. But still, something needed to be said.
“You judged yourself the hardest, way more than anyone around you on this issue. Focus on proving you’ve changed and become better rather than the anger you have for yourself. How could you find forgiveness when it’s you the one who’s gating it?”
“Biu,” he continued, the monosyllable sound so endearing from his mouth. “I know it’s terrifying to wait. But you are not alone. You will see at the end it is not the worst scenario you’ve imagined.”
Build searched his face for a long minute and gave an awed little laugh. “You sound so serious. You would be a really good preacher if you want. Father Bible.”
Bible smiled along. He loves his laugh. Not being exaggerated, but he could do a lot of things to keep hearing that laugh.
His fingers had been drawing little circles on Build’s jawline for some time. “I meant them, what I said.”
“Hmm” was Build’s answer. He looked relaxed and genuinely relieved under his touches. It was peaceful and comforting. They didn’t even notice their foreheads were almost touching.
“Starving is always the first way I rely on when things become too much. The emptiness is grounding, you know, compared to what I feel.”
Bible frowned at that, unconsciously stopped his little massage on Build’s face, bringing a frown from Build.
He’d guessed Build’s emotion dealing methods would be passive. But never had he thought it would be extreme. It’d be tricky to break a years-old habit. And it’s very concerning to think that some day in future, when starvation no longer serves him, Build would find more drastic ways for emotional release.
“I will try to stop but no guarantees. You’re the first one who knows outside of my family.” Build whispered, first time willingly to share his secrets, nervously bitting his lips.
And that’s just what Bible wanted to hear. Both the promise and the affirmation of his place in Build’s life. Not just a Nong or any acting partner. But someone special.
His heart felt warm and sore like it’s full with something unnamable. He couldn’t help but touch Build’s face with his own, hands holding his neck. It’s another tread on their boundary. The intimacy they experienced at that moment was unprecedented.
He felt Build froze again and waited patiently for him to relax. When he did, he gave a quiet “Thank you” with his lips lightly touching Build’s cheek, like a feather-like kiss.
It lasted for a second before he pulled back a little and looked up from his eyelashes to check Build’s reaction. He smiled when he got another “Hmm” and a slightly dazed face.