Chapter Text
It’s not that Kajorn hadn’t noticed. It’s not like those heathens had ever cared about subtlety of all things, after all. It's not the first time the thought crosses his mind either. It is, however, the first time he considers it. Considers it seriously.
That the school council (or rather, ‘former school council’, since their high school days are long behind them by now) is full of whipped, whipped men. And worst of all? Kajorn himself is part of said group of whipped, whipped men.
It used to be only Tinn. Two years of pining hopelessly were already enough, but then his mom became the principal, and things with Gun got the slightest bit harder for obvious reasons. Even after all these years, Kajorn doesn’t regret punching that teacher on the face to defend his friend and his friend's boyfriend—even if Tinn did keep things hidden from him at first, and it did bother Kajorn.
Then Tiw joined the club, and Kajorn got... a little irritated. If anything because Por started to barge into the council room like he owned the place whenever he pleased, and Tiw indulged him. Even if he didn’t want to ask anything of them and was just there to spend time with his boyfriend instead.
Kajorn had called them both whipped more than once, sometimes jokingly, sometimes not. And he could do it, because back then, Kajorn himself wasn’t included in that circle.
And then...
Well, then came the biggest ‘however’ in the universe. It has a name, plays the drums and wore glasses thicker than some of their textbooks.
It’s also sitting down next to him right now with his second beer of the night on hand. Because they’ve come together to their high school’s alumni meeting. And because Kajorn cannot remember a time where he wasn’t all over Pat at this point, or pinpoint when exactly it was that he joined the club of whipped, whipped men that is the (former) school council.
But he’s not exactly complaining, either.
Kajorn had always liked reading books rather than watching films. To this day, he still does.
Even so, he said yes whenever Tinn and Tiw asked him to go to the movies. Because he was a teenager with a healthy social life and going out with friends was in his blood.
Admittedly, it was kind of... bothersome, in a way, when Gun started tagging along, too. That was supposed to be his time with his friends, not a date. Yes, Kajorn sulked the first few times it happened; yes, maybe he also made some off-handed comments, and perhaps he was jealous enough to leave early once, when they normally went out for dinner afterwards. “I have a headache,” he had said, which wasn’t entirely a lie.
Said headache was a singer, loved BBQ pork and worshipped a fucking chinchilla plushie of all things. Those first two things are still true to this day. Kajorn is not so sure about the third.
But Kajorn rationalized, sooner rather than later, that it was kind of normal, actually, that Tinn wanted his boyfriend to get along with his friends. Half the work was already done, anyway—after all, Tiwson had never done anything egregious like, let’s say, try his hardest to get the music club to shut down. Kajorn, on the other hand...
Yeah, that one was on him, alright.
Gun avoided talking to him as much as humanly possible, at first. Things were not as awkward as one might imagine, most likely because Kajorn had already gotten in trouble for him and Tinn. So, Gun’s way to show how thankful he was for that was to... tolerate Kajorn.
Both were much too awkward to approach the other and say ‘Sorry’—because both of them had things to apologize for, really. After all, Kajorn was an ass to the music club, and Gun did threaten violence against him in a fit of (drunken) rage.
Actually, Kajorn doesn’t remember ever apologizing to Gun or viceversa. It just sort of... happened.
In a matter of weeks, the uncomfortable air around them faded away, and in the truest ‘water under the bridge’ style, Gun and Kajorn ended up sharing popcorn at the cinema and discussing the movie they had just watched over fried chicken afterwards. Kajorn still recalls the text he received from Tinn when he got home that same night: a simple ‘Thank you, Jorn’ that got to Kajorn more than he’d like to admit.
Por joining their little movie nights came a bit more naturally. His past hatred for Kajorn hadn’t entirely faded, but he was willing to give him a second chance after hearing what he had done for Tinn and Gun. So yes, one of the many things Tiw loved to say about him was, indeed, true: Por was (still is, technically, even if now Kajorn knows he can be a bit of a gremlin sometimes) a sweetheart.
There was never an awkward stage between the two, really. They just slowly went from not talking much to what Kajorn can now call a friendship. Por went to him for academic advice when Tiw wasn’t available, and in exchange, Kajorn got keyboard lessons, something he had secretly been wanting to do for years.
So yes, it was safe to say that Tinn and Tiw’s mission of making his boyfriends get along with their friends was working as intended.
Kajorn is not sure when exactly Pat came into the picture.
The earliest memory he has is of one Friday night where they didn’t go to the cinema, but to Tinn’s house for their weekly movie night. His parents weren’t home, and his mom had given him permission to let his friends (and his boyfriend) stay the night. Films, bags upon bags of admittedly unhealthy snacks and just the idea of spending time with his friends sounded great in Kajorn’s book.
It was shortly after Tinn had explained the plan to them on their group-chat (the one they created at some point to discuss their little hangouts) that Por asked the question.
‘Would you mind if I brought a friend over?’
And Kajorn had no reason to be a buzzkill and say no. Neither did any of the other three. So, bring him Por did.
Said friend, as it turns out, was Pat.
The whole story was that Pat was supposed to be going to the music shop with Yo to look at guitars. Except Yo’s girlfriend, Nook, called and asked to hang out, and that was it. To be fair, they had told Pat that he could tag along if he wanted to, but he refused.
“I’m not about to stand there while those two make out, thank you.”
Kajorn would have loved to tell him that this plan wasn’t any better if that’s what he thought, but decided against it. The poor guy looked so genuinely crushed, he just couldn’t—even if Kajorn had walked in on Tiw and Por making out more than once. Honestly, are there no better places to do that?
Pat kind of latched to Por’s side, at first. And, although the sight of Por sandwiched in between him and Tiw was kind of funny, Pat took the hint sooner rather than later. He sat by himself for the rest of the movie, and a part of Kajorn really wanted to scoot closer and tell him he knew that pain. Except Pat seemed oddly adamant to keep away from him. In still hating Kajorn’s guts despite everything.
Yeah, it was an awkward night, to say the least.
Sleepovers at Tinn’s place became more common after that. Pat showed up from time to time due to even more frustrated plans with Yo (Kajorn was starting to question a lot of things by that point, mainly Yo’s priorities). And, eventually, Por added him to their group-chat and he became a permanent tag-along.
What didn’t seem to be changing was his reluctance to ever engage with Kajorn in anything that wasn’t a minute-long conversation, full of one-words and awkward silences.
It had been maybe a month or two of Pat joining them when Kajorn got the chance to confront the issue.
He had essentially been kicked out of the guest room he was sharing with Tiw (the words were never explicitly mentioned, but Kajorn was not about to sleep in the same room as Tiw and his boyfriend; it’s common courtesy to give them privacy, right?), and Tinn and Gun were probably busy in Tinn’s room.
So off to the living room it was, then.
The living room where Pat and Por were supposed to be sleeping—funny how that worked.
Pat was not asleep, surprisingly. Kajorn imagined that Por probably woke him up, but he couldn’t prove it.
It was awkward as hell. Pat was watching TV on low volume, lying on the couch with the blanket half on him, half on the floor, his glasses on. Kajorn just stood in place for a while, fidgeting with his own blanket that he had managed to save before leaving the room, wondering if he should stay or just sleep on the corridor. Or the kitchen counter. Or literally anywhere else.
“I know you’re there, you know?”
And then Pat moved, making space for Kajorn on the couch, and he kind of just... walked up and sat there. The TV was still playing in the background and Pat was still watching, but Kajorn tuned it out. The program didn’t look that interesting anyway.
Instead, he wondered. Wondered why Pat still insisted on acting like that towards him when everyone else in the music club seemed to have moved on. Gun and Por clearly had, and even though Kajorn was not as familiar with Yo, Sound and Win, they didn’t shoot him dirty looks anymore whenever he visited the club room.
And then, there was Pat.
The hard part was asking the question out loud. And, even if he did ask it, Pat didn’t have a reason to answer truthfully. Or at all.
“Why are you here?” Pat was the one who broke the silence, changing the channel. He didn’t sound interested, or even annoyed, but rather casual. It was all so... matter-of-fact.
And Kajorn just... answered. Because who would it harm?
“Por came into the room. Said he’s scared of the dark and wanted to cuddle with Tiw.” Kajorn said. He tried to keep his eyes somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t Pat’s face, but he could still make out his expression out of the corner of his eye. Serious, neutral, like he didn’t care about Kajorn’s reasons and just asked because his peace had been disturbed. “Whatever is going on there, I don’t want to know.”
“Funny,” Pat shifted a little in his spot, “I’m here on my own ‘cause Por ditched me.”
Silence again. Somehow, it felt even more uncomfortable than the one from earlier. Except Pat still looked just as relaxed and Kajorn was twice as fidgety.
And sure, maybe one a.m wasn’t the right time to be asking deep questions like that, but Kajorn went ahead anyway. “Pat, can I ask...?”
And, right at the same time, Pat said, “Jorn, can I ask...?”
More silence. They made eye contact. Pat’s serious facade had morphed into a wide-eyed, confused blinking expression. It made Kajorn smile dumbly, seeing him emote, before fully comprehending what had just happened.
Right, one of them had to say something first, he almost forgot.
“You go first.” Pat conceded.
Kajorn did not get cold feet, but he was very close to bolting back into the guest room—the risk of walking in on Por and Tiw doing something worse than kissing be damned.
But that wasn’t (isn’t) his style. So, instead, he took a deep breath and went on ahead.
“I...” His voice broke a little. So much for trying to sound confident. “... have a feeling that you still hate me.”
Pat snorted, not looking amused at all.
“Aren’t you perceptive?”
“So you admit it?”
“Why shouldn’t I?” Pat shrugged, settling more comfortably in his corner of the couch, knees pressed to his chest and arms wrapped around them. “You’ve done plenty of shit to us. I have reasons. Just because everyone else suddenly forgot doesn’t mean I have to.”
Ah.
Yeah, Kajorn could see that. That was actually what he was thinking, but didn’t want to presume that Pat was just being petty. He has never been the type to assume the worst of people anyway... except the music club, apparently. Perhaps he should have kept quiet.
In hindsight though, it was a very good thing that he was too dumb to shut his mouth.
So he just turned to face Pat, back pressed to the arm of the couch and grabbing at his bare feet like a little kid. As if looking innocent would make Pat’s heart soften, somehow. “I’m sorry.” He spoke as sincerely as he could, finding Pat’s eyes again. “Is there anything I can do for you to forgive me?”
He wasn’t expecting much. If anything, he thought Pat would scoff and kick him out of the living room so he could finally sleep. But that didn’t happen.
What Pat did do was avert his gaze, chin propped over his knees with a slight pout on his lips. Kajorn briefly wondered if Pat was having fun at his expense, even if only internally.
“Actually,” Pat said, sitting up straight again, “yes.”
At the risk of seeming overeager, Kajorn smiled. Widely. If he had a tail, it would have been wagging by that point. He nodded so fast it would have been embarrassing under normal circumstances.
Arguably though, those were not normal circumstances. Kajorn gave himself a pass because of that.
“I need you to look me in the eye for a few minutes and not speak. Can you do that?”
An odd request, for sure. However, what offended Kajorn the most was... “I can be quiet! Who do you take me for?!”
“Someone who likes the sound of his own voice too much. Now shut up, I need to concentrate.”
And shut up he did.
Pat’s eyes practically bore holes in his skull for the following five minutes. Or at least, according to the clock on the wall, it was five minutes—to Kajorn, they felt like five hours.
He’s never been particularly shy. Anything but, actually. But there was something about the way Pat just sat there, studying his face like he was trying to study for an exam—which in and of itself sounds preposterous, because Kajorn knows that Pat did anything but sit down and hit the books. His atrocious academic performance was proof enough of that.
Back to Pat and his eyes...
Even through the thick lenses of his glasses, they were intense. Something about that intensity combined with Pat’s serious expression, his own inability to speak and the sound of their breaths in the silence of the living room at night gave Kajorn goosebumps, made him get antsy and shift in his spot.
(If his eyes wandered off to Pat’s lips once or twice, no one but Kajorn has to know.)
“Right...” Pat muttered, softly nodding his head. “Right, I think I get it now. Thanks.”
Needless to say, Kajorn had a lot of questions.
“Wait, that’s all?”
Pat locked eyes with him again. Kajorn’s throat suddenly felt a little dry.
“I mean,” Pat broke eye contact to look down at his hands on his lap like they were the most interesting thing in the world, “there is a step two. I’m just not sure if I should...”
Again, at risk of seeming overeager, Kajorn did the only thing he could think of: get closer, invade Pat’s personal space and grab his hands. All while looking him in the eye.
“Please?” Kajorn begged. Not whiny, never whiny. But his lower lip did jut out just enough for it to be considered a pout, so perhaps it didn’t matter how he meant it. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done, seriously! I just—I just want you to forgive me. I’ll do anything, but please.”
Pat blinked at him. Once, twice, thrice. And Kajorn could see something, that glimmer in his eye. Of recognition, maybe. Like he had just figured out the answer to a very difficult math problem or how to play a notably complicated song with the drums.
“Oh.”
Kajorn didn’t understand. Not then, anyway. Retrospectively though, he gets it now. Something had slipped into place in Pat’s head, and also, his heart.
(He knows because that’s what happened to him, too.)
“Okay... Okay, yeah. Okay.” Pat kept repeating those words over and over, like they were the only words he knew.
Kajorn no longer cared about coming across as an overexcited puppy, visibly perking up.
“So—?”
“Promise me you won’t freak out.” Pat sounded very serious, freeing his hands from Kajorn’s grip and holding his wrists, instead. “Whatever I do, don’t freak out. I’ll just—do it. And then you’re free to walk out and not talk to me ever again and...”
Perhaps it was the fact that Pat had visibly not cleaned his glasses in a while and they were a bit foggy, but Kajorn swears he saw his eyes get glassy. The poor boy was at the verge of crying, perhaps a harsher breakdown.
And Kajorn, ever so eager for Pat to forgive him, thought the best way to comfort him was break free from his hold and cup his cheeks.
“Pat,” He spoke confidently. As confidently as the late hour and the exhaustion slowly but surely settling in his body would allow, “breathe. What are you even going to do that will make me hate you?”
He had asked that with a big, reassuring smile. To show Pat there was nothing to be afraid of, that Kajorn could never possibly hate him—which was true. Hatred towards the music club seemed like such an old, silly thing now.
Pat breathed in, then breathed out. Kajorn was still holding him then, for some reason. It felt nice, the touch. His thumbs absentmindedly stroked across the cheekbones, a gesture perhaps too intimate for what they really were at that point, but something that felt right at the moment. Pat breathed in, then breathed out again. And then...
Then he kissed him.
Pat kissed him and Kajorn kind of stopped functioning and melted into the hands that moved to cup his neck.
There was no tongue or teeth or an exchange of saliva. Just simple, lip-to-lip contact. And it still made Kajorn’s head all fuzzy and his mouth feel tingly when Pat broke apart. All he could say was, “Oh.”
Pat laughed. An awkward laugh.
“Yeah, oh.”
Unconsciously, Kajorn pressed his lips together, trying his best to suppress the smile threatening to get out. He wanted to touch them, for the contact to linger just a little longer. Perhaps ask for another kiss. But no, that would be greed.
“That’s... all you wanted to do?”
“‘All I wanted to—’?!” Pat repeated, just a bit too loud. In any other situation, Kajorn would have told him to keep it down. “Kajorn, I just kissed you.”
And oh, there is the smile. You’re so bad at pretending, Kajorn. “Yeah, I noticed.”
Pat looked ready to keep arguing. Kajorn could tell he was desperately searching for a clap back in his head.
So, before anything could occur to him, Kajorn asked the only suitable question.
“Can I kiss you?”
Pat went so still Kajorn feared, for just a moment, that he had broken him. But then he moved again, a small nod of his head before a second of hesitation, and Kajorn could breathe again. Under the dim lights of the living room, the pink spreading all over his face was evident.
Pretty, even.
“Yeah,” Pat mumbled, a tiny little thing that Kajorn had to make an effort to hear, “yeah, go ahead.”
And Kajorn did.
He kissed Pat and, like that, it all slipped into place.
They went slightly further that time. Barely-there bites on lower lips and Pat’s hands clinging to his sides. Not too far, because Kajorn has god-like self-control, or so he likes to think; it’s certainly wavered just a bit, what with Pat being a constant in his life now.
Admittedly though, it was hard not to react when Pat sighed into his mouth, breaking apart and looking into Kajorn’s eyes again. Lips shiny with spit, reddish and bite-swollen and panting just slightly. His grip on Kajorn’s shirt tightened.
And, just when he thought Pat would kiss him again...
“Oh my God!! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt!”
Pat pushed him away, instead. Hard. Kajorn was thankful for the pillows behind his back for easing the impact.
It took him a bit to fully process what just happened. Thirty seconds, and he had gone from kissing (kissing, what the hell?!) Pat, to being interrupted by.... someone. The sound of their voice was kind of muffled by Kajorn’s heartbeat pumping in his ears—it didn’t sound like Tinn or Tiw though, so that left...
“Por, wait!!”
Pat kept calling him, rushing after his friend. His footsteps echoed all around the house, soon joined by Por’s quickly murmured apologies and Pat swearing up and down that “It’s not what it looks like!”. How he even expected to talk his way out of that, Kajorn didn’t know.
And then, Tinn raised his voice too. “Keep it down! You’ll wake up the neighbors!”
No one really slept that night.
Breakfast was an even more awkward experience, if that was possible.
Pat and Por sat in front of each other, and Kajorn caught a handful of under-the-table kicks and killer looks. Or maybe it was just the fact that Pat hadn’t put his glasses on just yet, and the squinting made it look like he was mad. In any case, he said nothing, just ate his cereal in the midst of Pat’s murderous looks at Por, Tinn feeding Gun small pieces of toast despite his boyfriend’s protests and Tiw’s knowing stares.
Kajorn knew then that Tiw knew something was up, but decided to spare him the embarrassment until they were out of Tinn’s house—once they were though... well, honestly, there wasn’t much that Kajorn could do. Tiw had too much experience dealing with smitten guys, being one himself too, to fall for his pathetic attempts to keep it all under wraps.
So yeah, he spilled the beans.
And when Tiw asked him if he liked Pat, Kajorn had to bite down on his tongue. Because he wasn’t really sure, but he was curious enough to want to figure it out, and surely that meant that the answer was ‘Yes’.
“Ah, and here I thought my days as an umbrella were over!”
Kajorn didn’t know what the hell Tiw was implying by that, but whatever it was, he seemed amused.
Him and Pat didn’t talk for a few days after that. Didn’t even cross paths, actually, despite Tiw constantly sending Kajorn to ‘check some urgent things with the music club’. Either Pat was not in the room or he ran away like a frightened rabbit at the sight of Kajorn. And sure, it was upsetting to be ignored like that, especially after—
After what, exactly?
It’s not like they were anything. Pat hated him, Kajorn wanted to earn his forgiveness, and the whole thing ended with them kissing. That was really all there was to it. No formalities, no nothing. People kiss without a clear purpose all the time, he knew; he had heard some of his classmates talking and boasting about hooking up with people they had met that same night, and Kajorn knew then and there that that would never be him. Exchanging saliva with so many people on one night is textbook unsanitary behavior anyway, and it’s not like Kajorn could see himself hopping in the arms of a stranger.
Pat though... he was not a stranger.
Two weeks went by before Tinn invited them over to his house again. And Kajorn knew something was up, because Tiw was not slick and kept smiling like that. Like he was aware of something Kajorn wasn’t. And although he feared the worst, he went along anyway.
And the worst did, indeed, happen.
“Seven minutes in heaven, really? Have we sunk that low?”
Ah, so that was what Tiw was aware of that Kajorn wasn’t.
Normally, Kajorn would never be caught dead playing something like that. But he also knew that Tiw would have forced him to play along anyway had he said no. So, instead of doing things the hard way, he complied to make it easier on himself.
Even if he knew where things were going from the beginning.
And lo and behold, it happened.
Whether Tiw had tampered with the spinning bottle somehow to make it happen (Kajorn was not even sure if such a thing was possible, but he did consider the possibility), he never knew for sure. All Kajorn knew was that, after a few rounds (which included Tinn and Gun definitely making out, judging by poor Tinn’s disheveled hair), Tiw was shoving him and Pat into Tinn’s room, mouthing a hurried “Now talk” before closing the door behind him.
‘Awkward’ didn’t even begin to cut it.
Not a word was spoken as Pat sat on the bed, and while Kajorn would have loved to do the same, Tinn’s crossword puzzles looked a lot more interesting—No, not really. But, as a matter of fact, he had no idea how to start the conversation, so he did everything in his power to delay it.
It didn’t work for long. Because conversations are a two-people thing (or that one, specifically, was), and if Kajorn didn’t start it, Pat would.
And start it Pat did. “Sooo,” He begun, trying his best to sound casual. It almost worked, but the constantly tapping his foot and all the fidgeting with his hands gave it away. Just as nervous as Kajorn, if not more, “this is awkward enough as it is, so I’ll just say it.”
Right, ripping the band-aid fast and all that.
“I don’t think I hate you, not really. Or like, not anymore, anyway. You’re... a pretty decent guy. You were still an ass to us though, don’t think I’ll ever forget that. No, seriously, I’ll remember forever, I’m petty like that. You can take it as a threat or a promise, I don’t care.” Pat dropped everything in one go, so fast that Kajorn barely had time to process it all before he spoke again. “Oh man, I never thought I was gonna say all that...”
It certainly sounded like he had gotten something heavy off his chest, the sigh of relief he let out a long-winded one. But when Kajorn (finally) turned to look him in the eye, he could see he wasn’t done. Something about the way Pat was chewing on his bottom lip, scratching the back of his head, the uncertain shimmer in his eye; or maybe it was just the moonlight filtering through the curtains catching in them.
Pretty.
The loud noise of Pat slapping both his hands over his thighs startled Kajorn out of his thoughts. Before he could ask if he was okay, Pat continued his little speech.
“So no, Jorn, I don’t hate you. In fact I—actually think I like you. Like, a lot. As in, like like. As in, I want to hold your stupid hand and wear matching Chinzhilla shirts with you and take you to that one café with the really good ice creams. I wasn’t sure at first, so I kinda just... kissed you to check if I felt anything, and... well, I did. Cause I mean, if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here telling you all this, and...”
Oh.
Oh, they were both so stupid .
“Pat,” Kajorn stopped him on his tracks before another word could leave his mouth, not even bothering to stop the smile forming on his lips, “I get it.”
Pat went stiff when Kajorn walked closer and rested his hands on his shoulders. Was he expecting to get rejected? Even after Kajorn had kissed back that night? Asked if he could kiss him too, of all things? Nonsense, but Kajorn never claimed to be attracted to smart guys.
“So, then—”
“Yes, Pat, I like like you too.” It felt as silly to say it as it did hearing it, but no matter. Pat looked too cute in his confusion, and it felt like the only appropriate thing to say.
“Jorn?” Pat finally opened his mouth after what felt like an eternity later. “You’re not half bad at kissing either.”
Yeah, Kajorn never claimed to be attracted to smart or witty guys. But maybe that’s exactly why he liked Pat to begin with.
“Can we kiss again, then?”
“Hell yeah,” Pat didn’t even think twice before answering. His enthusiasm was infectious, really. Kajorn found himself chuckling at the adorable display, “it’ll be fun to give TinnGun a taste of their own medicine.”
And oh, that was a thought. Not that Kajorn was the type to follow the ‘an eye for an eye’ rule, but to say it wasn’t aggravating to have his friend and his boyfriend all over each other constantly would be a complete lie.
Pat’s hands finally moved, holding to the back of Kajorn’s neck. And well, wasn’t seven minutes in heaven all about kissing anyway?
Someone banged on the door as hard as they could just then.
“Time’s up, lovebirds!”
And Kajorn thought that, as helpful as Tiwson could be, he could also be such a goddamn killjoy, too.
He still had Tiwson to thank for this whole thing though, so perhaps that could be forgiven.
(It was. Kajorn ended up buying him iced tea every single day for an entire week as a way to pay him back.)