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Chay loves spending the night at Kim’s apartment, and there’s a million reasons why. Kim's pillows are softer. His sheets feel amazing against his legs. There’s so much room in his king size bed compared to Chay’s, and he sleeps much better on the memory foam, with Kim curled around him. Beyond the bed, Kim’s apartment is just cool. His personal studio and music room make it so they don’t have to travel far to play music. His desk that’s wide enough so while Kim messes with his songs, Chay can finish up his homework before rolling over his desk chain joining him. And most importantly, Chay loves staying at Kim’s apartment because Kim is there.
The only downside is that Chay stays so often that all his stuff is beginning to accumulate: not that Kim minds. Kim cleared out a closet and several drawers, coaxing Chay to make his stay permanent. But Chay still loves his familial home; it isn’t exactly easy to move out from the place that his brother fought so hard to keep. In those four walls, Porchay learned to walk and talk and tend to Porsche’s wounds. He learned how to play guitar in the living room. On school nights, he played video games until 2:00AM to make sure Porsche got home safely. In that kitchen, he baked Ohm a birthday cake that was better than anything from a bakery. The sleepovers they had in his room.
And, of course, his beloved WIK wall.
The House is still theirs and isn’t as abandoned as Chay thought it would be. If Mafia affairs become too taxing, Porsche and Kinn often sneak away from the Compound to spend a night or two at the Kittisawat House. Most days, Chay comes back to his house because it’s closer to the university, and his desk chair, while not as expensive as the new one Kim got him, is comfy. It’s nice being there, despite everything that’s happened.
Which made Chay wonder why they always stay at Kim’s apartment and never at Chay’s house.
“Should we stay here tonight?” Chay asked, after they ordered take out. They’re eating and watching something on Chay’s computer. Chay offered the TV in the living room, but Kim insisted they would make a mess, so instead, they sat outside in the warm night. Chay yawned for the third time in ten minutes; he wasn’t sure he’d stay awake for the ride home.
Kim, on the other hand, was wide awake. “I don’t have my stuff here.”
That settled that. Kim drove them to his apartment minutes later.
This was a recurring scene. Weekly, almost. As if Kim went out of his way to make sure they spent more time at his rather than the House. At first, Chay thought it was his WIK wall. Naturally, one would feel strange sleeping in view of dozens of pictures of themselves.
“I can take it down, if you want. So we can sleep in my room, or in the living room again.”
“Don’t do that. I love that you still have it. Chay the WIK fan is so cute,” Kim murmured, pulling on Chay’s cheeks.
“Owww! P’Kim!”
Like the terrible sleuth he is, Kim avoided acknowledging the other half of Chay’s request, and this did not go unnoticed by Chay. Whenever Chay brings it up, Kim always hesitates, makes up an excuse, and they end up at Kim’s apartment. And Chay doesn't mind, but he misses his house. It’s familiar, and he wants to show Kim his record collection and pictures of him and Porsche growing up. Chay flipped through a photo album and landed on a photo of his mother at their old piano. It still sits in the far corner of the den, and Porchay has always wanted a photo of Kim playing on it. He imagined sliding it next to this photo of his mother, solidifying Kim as part of their family now.
Chay frowned a moment later. Now that the thought crossed his mind, he realizes that since getting back together, Kim had not stepped foot into the House. Not even once.
He decided to solve that the next chance he got.
“P’Kim, let’s hang out at my house!”
“Why?”
“Cuz! We’re only a few minutes away.” Kim picked him up from his campus and, quite frankly, Chay didn’t want to endure a long car ride to Kim’s or sit at a restaurant with his school uniform. “It’ll be fun! We can order from that noodle place again, and I can show you around after. You’ve never seen the den or the other rooms.”
Kim hesitates before saying, “I don’t know if I want noodles.”
“We can order whatever you like. My treat.”
Kim reaches over and pulls on the seat belt, bringing it across Chay’s chest and snapping it in place. “Mmm, maybe.”
“No, not maybe. Please, P’Kim. I can also show you my desk set up too. You won’t even have to sneak around this time.” At this, Kim visibly flinches, but Chay doesn’t notice, quickly scrolling through his phone. “Do you need the GPS?”
Kim sighs and caves. “No, I know how to get there.”
The drive to Chay’s house isn’t terribly long and traffic is at a minimum, but Kim’s thoughts are racing. Sometimes, the anxiety bubbles up even when Kim picks Chay up from his home. Just driving by it makes Kim sick to his stomach. All this time, he thought he succeeded in avoiding the Kittisawat House, but today, Chay is insisting. And it’s hard to say no.
Moments later, Kim stiffly sits on the couch, eyes cast down and knuckles white from clenched fists as Chay says something about changing out of his uniform. “Be back in a minute,” he calls from the top of the stairs.
Mentally, Kim pleads for Chay to come back as soon as possible. For some reason, the room feels so much smaller. Congested with humidity and worn furniture. It’s alarming, how perfectly in place Chay’s backpack looks at the foot of the sofa, where he dropped it.
What’s out of place is Kim.
“What do you want for lunch?” Chay asks, coming down the stairs.
Kim is still looking down.
“P’Kim?”
Thisiswhereithappened thisiswhereitallwentwrong thiswasyourfaultanddon’tyouforgetthat rememberthatremember dont’tthinkyoureanybetterthanyouwere don’tdon’tdon’t
“P’Kim!”
Kim snaps his head up. “Yes, love?” Chay looks angry. Panic builds. “I’m sorry, I-”
“Do you not like being here, P’Kim?” Chay pauses. “Is it… is it because my house is old?”
“What? No, that’s-”
“I know it’s really different from your apartment.”
“No. It’s not that.” Frantic, Kim stares at a coffee stain on the carpet.
When he offers nothing else, Chay huffs. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong.”
Kim's chest feels heavy.
“This is where I let you down,” Kim whispers, not looking up.
Chay puts down his phone, the food delivery app asking if he’s still planning on ordering. He looks at Kim, who remains motionless.
“What do you mean?”
Kim doesn’t answer.
Chay sits next to Kim on the couch, at first unsure if he should be touching Kim. He’s a stormy mixture of sadness and anger and other emotions that Chay can’t figure out. He hasn’t seen that look on Kim in a while. Lately, all he sees is a relaxed, laid back Kim; so much so that Chay momentarily forgot that Kim could be this upset, that he could spiral into these intense moments of anguish and grief.
Sometimes, Kim is good at sharing these moments before he really sinks. Today is not one of those times.
Eventually, Kim breathes out heavily, his body relaxing slightly. Only after this, does Chay start rubbing his thumb across Kim's fist. “Tell me, P'Kim."
“Already said it,” Kim says with a mirthless laugh, still not looking at his partner. “This is where I let you down. The note. The kidnapping. Not…” He shuts his eyes. It all comes back in these hideous flashes.
“Not what?”
“Not telling you that I love you,” Kim grits out through his teeth. He rubs his arms to remind himself that he’s still here, still around. That Chay is right here next to him. When he starts digging his fingers into his biceps, Chay grabs his hand again and coaxes him to keep talking.
“I almost lost you,” Kim murmurs, turning towards Chay, their hands laced together. “I know we lost each other for a bit. That we were apart and didn’t speak. But I think of how you might have died…” With his other hand, Kim pushes the hair out of Chay’s face and traces his cheek.
Chay abandons his hand, but starts to massage Kim’s forearm. “Yeah?”
“I think that's why it’s hard to come back here.” Another heavy exhale. “I still remember it. Maybe the worst day of my life.”
For a long while, neither of them speak. The only sound is the creaks of a very old House and the only movement comes from the ghostly memories that surround the both of them, that poke and prod at Kim even after what he has said. Kim knows these long pauses aren’t Chay rejecting him, but after a while, he looks at Chay, desperate and sad. “I’m sorry.”
“Was it really?”
“Hm?”
“Was it really the worst day of your life?” Chay takes his hand again, this time to rub his palm. “Yeah, that stuff happened, but we were together… before that. And that’s one of my favorite memories of us.”
Hearing this is a surprise to Kim. “Really? Why the hell would that day be a good memory?"
“Yes, really,” Chay insists. “You had finally kissed me at the studio. And then we kissed here.” Chay turns bright red when Kim raises his eyebrows. “But then we fell asleep together, and I never felt safer,” Chay explains. “And we woke up together too, remember? When we’re together…” Chay holds Kim’s hand. “That’s when I feel safest.”
“Chay,” Kim chokes.
“All that stuff after. P'Kim, it wasn't your fault. I always feel safe with you. In your home. In your arms.” Chay takes Kim’s arm and wraps it around himself, allowing himself to snuggle into his partner’s chest. “It wasn’t your fault. You thought you were doing the right thing. But we’re safe here now.”
Kim wraps around Chay, squeezing him tight.
“It’s going to take a while, but I want us to feel safe here too.” He looks up at Kim. “Let's make new memories here and everywhere. Together. Okay?”
Kim nods, breath shaky. “Okay.”
“Let’s start right now. Did you know Ma used to play piano?”
“No,” Kim smiles. “I didn’t.”
“We don’t have to look today, but maybe next time we can go to the den and you can check out her piano. It still works! Can you believe that? I think Porsche said she started playing when she was my age, and that she would play songs while pregnant with us. Actually, I think she had a few practice books…”
Chay carries on, and his voice shooing away all the bad memories and ghosts that surround Kim. It’s not an easy task, but it’s only a matter of time. If anyone can do it, it’s Chay.
Chay momentarily leaves Kim’s arms to reach for his phone. “Anyways, you definitely lied about not wanting noodles, so I’m going to order them, okay?”
Kim, simply too awestruck to say anything more, sighs before tugging Chay back and wrapping his arms around him. Unknowingly, or perhaps more aware than ever, Kim finally finds a sense of peace.