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Namping has a crush on Keng. Everybody knows it.
The other boys might have noticed it right away, back when Keng was late to their first ever meeting at the DMD building and the sole sight of him, when he eventually showed up — sweating and panting like he rushed several flights of stairs to get there — was enough to make Namping blush. Or maybe they only realized it a while later, after days on end of Namping alternating between following Keng around and completely ignoring him whenever he got too overwhelmed by that young man's quiet yet strong presence.
Gosh... maybe even Keng knew about it from the start. Or maybe he only found out way later than everyone else. Whichever might be the case, back to that sunny afternoon in which all of them first sat down on that white couch, in front of all those cameras, in a house full of them, every single one of the boys already knew.
It was practically imprinted in the way Namping glanced over Keng, feigning nonchalance, like the underlying truth wasn’t that the reality show was his one and only chance to actually get closer to his crush.
Well... should he, even? Get too close?
It would probably affect work to be paired with someone who was exactly his type. How could Namping ever focus on anything else with someone that handsome right by his side all the time? But then again... he really wants Keng to be right by his side all the time.
It doesn’t matter how much Namping reasons with himself about this well-known little crush and all the terrible ways in which indulging in it can only ruin everything, he still can’t shut off his hopeless romantic ways. He can’t stop caring about Keng. He can't stop himself from dragging his chair a little too close to his at dinner time, his eyes from casting glances his direction or his hands from touching him softly, as if treading on thin ice, but only really testing all that warmth lying way ahead.
Namping can't, for all that is worth, stop himself from dreaming about the moment in which his phi will reciprocate, if only a little, his overwhelming feelings.
His heart stops dead in its tracks when he lifts his pillow, that first night, and finds a letter... while in the same room as its obvious writer. Keng is right there, on the bed beside his, reaching under his own pillow to find Namping’s letter as well, and he looks up, perhaps sensing the gaze on him. Namping flushes all over, caught red-handed. But he smiles anyway.
Keng smiles back.
Well, now he must know.
It’s probably because everyone knows that everyone expects Namping to be chosen by Keng when the very first opportunity for something akin to a date arises.
Damn, Namping expects it too. He is almost sure of it. All the boys are teasing him, hyping him up, and he feels really nice — apart from nervous, tingling all over. He just can’t see himself on a date with Keng, no matter how many times he fantasized about it before. It really feels, in a way, like it could never come to reality. But though he can’t visualize himself sharing, just some minutes later, a cozy dinner with Keng, he expects it. Like it's such a sure thing.
The reality dawns on him painfully when the name that’s announced isn’t his.
The worst part is probably the humiliation, the fact that everyone knows, that everyone is expecting him to succeed in this one thing. Like it’s part of the competition, one last mission he managed to fail in the same day. It feels almost cruel to be left out, like being paired with Keng was his given right. But he smiles really wide and his glossy eyes squint so much that no one can see what he is hiding behind them.
Though everyone knows, of course, about the disappointment. And everything else.
He can’t really sleep that night.
Can’t stop his mind from replaying the last hour, wanting to crawl out of his skin at the memory of himself on that couch right in front of Keng, trying to sound a little less hurt while talking about his feelings, or at least the watered-down, broadcast-friendly part of them.
God, he would have loved to skip that conversation, but apparently communication is also part of his job (the staff didn't even consider getting a no from him when they asked him to talk to Keng about his obvious disappointment) so he had to go through it all. As the other boys moved around the house, getting ready for bed, an unusual quietness took over, disturbed only by Keng's soothing, apologetic voice. As it turned out, everything went perfectly fine, really. Safe and gentle and a little less humiliating than expected.
But as dawn approaches Namping's heart feels increasingly empty.
He tosses and turns a couple of times before settling onto his left side, and when he looks across the room, to the bed right next to his, he is surprised to find two attentive eyes set on him. Despite everything, Namping feels like smiling at Keng, as if no tension had ever been there, but he makes an effort not to. He just can't keep hiding in plain sight, pretending not to care when everyone knows he does. He isn’t mad at Keng, not at all, he isn’t even sulking, he just can’t help but feel. And when he feels, it shows.
It all amounts to the fact that Namping likes Keng, really does, much more than he should, and yet... he wasn't chosen. He doesn't know if he'll ever be.
He is about to close his damp eyes when he catches the movement of full lips around a heartfelt 'I’m sorry'.
Keng proves to be truly sorry and earns a prize just so he can take Namping out like he should've in the first place. That’s how they end up on the suite, where Keng is flirting, all confident like someone who knows he is wanted, while Namping is all dolled up, drenched in cologne, discreetly panicking.
Around this crush Namping has developed on him, they still cherish quite a beautiful friendship. Keng has helped him in numerous situations, has taught him so many things in areas that used to make him doubt himself: how to act better, sing better, take better care of himself. He has protected him from entitled production staff and given his shoulder to cry on whenever Namping looked like he needed it.
That undeniable bond, romantic pursues or reality show dramas apart, is probably the reason why not being chosen broke him so bad. But that stays right in the past when Keng looks at him intently from the other edge of the table, like there's something so inherently interesting about the piece of fruit Namping is sticking into his mouth.
His chest is heaving, Namping notices, up and down. He must be nervous... which is, what, funny? Because Namping thinks he is about to have a heart attack. When he opened the door he was completely sure he would be the only one in this situation, yet as the night settles, Keng looks just as nervous, if not a little more. No less charming, though.
It is so... apart from the cameras... it is so intimate.
A dimly lit room just for them, with a single huge bed, smelling of candles and fruit and flowers. Keng is smiling at him, promising to take him places, trying so hard to make up for the other night they hadn’t spent together. He is calling him beautiful (even more than the stars, he said). And Namping thinks he can't deal with this.
He can’t deal with the anxiety that takes over him later that night while he is lying on the bed, listening to the water falling over Keng's back in the shower, so close yet so far. So unreachable, even as he actually reaches the bed.
Something happens so fast that Namping can’t really process. They are both fixing their positions over the sheets when Keng’s gaze gets fixed on his face, as if frozen. It’s stuck on his eyes, then casts down to his mouth, then even lower, checking his body right before he wraps it in the blanket. His torso, the crumpled fabric of his shorts, the milky skin of his thighs, the socks he is wearing...
Without saying (or doing) anything, Keng suddently rests his head on his shoulder. Namping wants him to be there forever.
When he wakes up, Keng is all over him. Arms wrapped possessively around him, one of his hands on the hip, the other on his back, keeping him close. He should get up and get ready for the mission that certainly would come for them later in the morning, he should worry about how it all looked on the cameras, too, the way they were tangled to each other. But he can’t force himself to. So he just buries his head on Keng’s chest, right under his chin, and is only moments later that he feels, light as a feather, the gentle kiss on his forehead.
He completely melts, easily falling back to sleep.
Things are going so well for them. Keng is so... he should be the cruelest man on earth if the way he’s been treating Namping is hollow. It doesn’t seem to be the case, though.
Namping really likes it when his phi saves him a seat, when he scooches closer whenever they are in the same room, when he wishes him goodnight with the gentlest voice and the gentlest look on his eyes. He also likes the way he sounds so sincere, so definitive, like it is so obvious, when he says he is going to choose him as a partner.
Then he does — he truly, actually does — and that red ribbon leads straight to the man Namping has been thinking about for months. His steps are tentative, when the moment draws on him, when he realizes this is happening.
There he is...
Keng is walking so slowly, too, his hands sliding through the ribbon. His smile is so beautiful that it makes Namping's heart flutter. It looks like they are slowly walking into something else.
They smile at each other. They were, already, but now it's harder, wider, if that is even possible.
‘’Your outfit is so beautiful today’’, Keng casually says.
Namping feels so warm.
‘’Today only?’’
‘’Everyday.’’
He wishes Keng had said that before.
As Keng takes another step, the breath catches in Namping's lungs. He takes a step too, and they get so close. The tension is so thick in the air, they are so eager for... something.
Their hair is dancing in the wind. Namping, noticing, reaches over and fixes a strand of Keng's hair that doesn't really need fixing. In fact, he just wanted to get closer, to reach out and... touch.
‘’Is mine messy, too?’’ He runs his hand through it, making it even messier. All he wants is Keng to reach out, to understand that what he really means to say is touch me as well. Please touch me, phi.
He doesn’t — so Namping has to. Their hands meet, fingers intertwining softly. While Namping asks him to never let go, Keng promises not to.
Now they are together — an official pairing, at that.
But technically there's still a last mission, and the house is so quiet. Thomas and Kong are together, of course, quietly celebrating their partnership, while the other boys all feel slightly down. To be with them feels a bit like flaunting their luck in their faces. So... yeah, Keng and Namping are together, again, only the two of them.
They are both sitting on Namping’s bed, scrolling through their phones. They aren’t that close, but their shoulders are touching. It’s a grounding feeling. But they need more, the tension from earlier stocked at the pit of their stomachs.
‘’P’Keng,’’ Namping calls, doe eyes turned right at him. ‘’Would you help me do my makeup? I want to try something new tomorrow.’’ He doesn’t know where that comes from. But he knows there are no cameras in the bathroom, where his makeup products are.
Keng quickly follows him there, like eagerly walking into the most obvious trap.
Namping sits on the marble counter, his legs dangling in the air. Keng grabs the eyeliner, then glances at Namping, who nips at his bottom lip, nervously. Keng's eyes fall straight to his mouth. His breath is a little labored and... Namping can’t wait anymore.
Please, he is going to say, come here. He doesn’t have time to.
The eyeliner suddenly slips from Keng's hands and noisily hits the floor. Then they are suddenly on Namping’s hips.
‘’Lately that's all I can think about, Keng whispers, as if announcing the hungry kiss he then presses on Namping’s lips.
That's all I can think about since the day I met you, Namping wants to say, as he kisses him back.
He doesn’t — but Keng must already know.