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This Training exercise was definitively ill-advised at best. If Tharn’s calculations were correct, and they very well may not be considering he was sleep deprived, but if he was right, then they should be near the end of their 120 hour “hell” training. The instructors had faked them out earlier, telling them they had some rest time and see them in the morning. Everyone had dragged themselves to the bunks. Khem didn’t even attempt to climb the ladder, instead just curled up on the floor and passed out before Tharn could make it to his own bunk. Tharn face planted perpendicular across Yai’s and his bunk, with Yai following suit right beside him. Tharn had no sooner closed his eyes when an air horn had brought them to attention again. They were herded onto the beach, stumbling like they were all drunk, and into boats that were maybe one step up from an inflatable kiddie pool. Now, under the cover of night, three boats blasted through the ocean towards deeper water at full speed. The recruits were packed into the boat like sardines, which meant for once Tharn didn’t have to fabricate an excuse to touch Phaya.
Phaya was Tharn’s own personal sun, a source of warmth and gravity. When they had spent hours soaking in ice, Phaya had tucked Tharn up against his body, helping provide body heat that was slightly above what Tharn would consider normal temperature. Figures that Phaya ran hot. Not that Tharn complained, quite the opposite, in fact. He still felt guilty that poor Yai was regulated to the opposite side of the tub. Alone. As the week progressed, Tharn found himself drawn into Phaya’s orbit, looking for the other man during the various “training exercises” (read torture) their instructors devised.
This had been the case since that first day, when a sunglass wearing stranger had inquired about a table. Something deep in Tharn had recognized Phaya, something whispered that he would forever regret letting the stranger walk away. Cursed with visions, Tharn had learned early to trust when the universe was trying to tell him something, so he had asked the man to join him.
Watching Phaya’s body as he sauntered over was a bonus. Tharn couldn’t help but devour Phaya with his eyes until Auntie broke through his revelry with a menu.
Then Chart had ruined the mood entirely.
Since then, Tharn and Phaya had been in a back-and-forth dance, a push-pull that he just didn’t know how to interpret. Aside from saving Phaya every couple of days, he sought small moments where he felt complete in Phaya’s presence, where a simple touch could right his world. The smallest glance from Phaya made Tharn’s heart beat faster. Phaya wasn’t just warmth and gravity though, he was also light. Tharn couldn't remember his dark past that haunted him, but Phaya somehow illuminated the dark corners. Even if the man used sarcasm and pigtail, pulling antics.
Tharn wanted more. Or rather, he just wanted.
Not just for now, but to hold on to Phaya with both hands and never let go. He didn’t understand this deep, instant connection at all. These feeling that rose from somewhere deep within his soul.
Nor will Tharn voice any of this out loud. Especially not to Yai.
Movement on Tharn’s left drew his attention, Phaya squirmed in his seat again. Not enough for anyone else to notice, but certainly enough for Tharn’s overactive “Phaya sense” to catch it. (He blames Yai for the name.) While excelling at every water based task, Phaya was certainly not a fan of any body of water. Tharn leaned his shoulder harder against Phaya’s biceps.
“Sorry.” Tharn said. “The boat rocked.”
“No problem.” Phaya answered as he readjusted his hand, bracing his arm diagonal across Tharn’s whole back.
Warmth seeped through Tharn’s thin top.
Admittedly, Tharn had little experience with relationships. When you are told you are a curse to the ones you love and then you attempt to date, but that person dies in a mysterious drowning incident even when they were a competitive swimmer. Well then, one can understand the meaning of the words emotional distance. Tharn’s karma continued to haunt him in a never ending sentence of loneliness. But lonely was better than causing someone else’s demise.
As if reading his melancholic thoughts, Yai slapped Tharn’s leg and whooped into the night air.
So not completely alone, Tharn reminded himself.
But he couldn’t let Phaya in.
Phaya was different. A different that Tharn didn’t need to think about at this particular moment because it wasn’t just his emotions and heart that desired the man. Tharn groaned, he didn’t need any other body parts waking up in the middle of a training exercise and his brain was too tired to keep all the creative images his dreams had conjured recently at bay. Luckily, all three boats lurched to a stop, halting Tharn’s thoughts in their tracks.
“Here we go.” Phaya said.
Captain Akk stood and raised his voice for the occupants of all three boats to hear. Tharn was right. This whole adventure was ill-advised. Once Captain Akk finished the directions, Phaya paled but rallied as Akk and another instructor began, one-by-one, tying them up like turkeys. Tharn should really focus on the fact that he was about to be thrown into the ocean with his hands and ankles secured. More specifically, they bound his hands behind his back.
However, Tharn had never feared water.
His entire being centered as he took a deep breath of salty air. The water was Tharn’s home. It provided relief from the unrelenting heat in Nong Khai, his place to think on the topmost floor of his condo. It was a place to hide from visions and a place to play with Yai as kids. The water won’t hurt him today either. The ocean called him home.
Tharn closed his eyes and sent a request for the ocean to protect Phaya tonight.
Clouds covered the moon, reducing what little light they had as they jumped, or were hurled, into the ocean. The warm water enveloped Tharn in a welcome home embrace. The salt made him buoyant, slowing his descent, but Tharn didn’t care how deep he sank. He loved the feeling as the water squeezed him, pushing against his chest. But he needed to stay with Phaya, so he dolphin kicked his legs a little, drawing even again. Tharn could hold his breath longer than any other recruit, so there was no rush to untie his hands and feet. Khem kicked to the surface first, followed by Thongthai, and then Yai gave Tharn a nod as he finished untying the rope around his ankles and headed for the boat.
Just Tharn and Phaya remained.
Tharn had long since finished the rope around his wrist, so he slowly started on the one around his ankles. When Phaya flipped a rope in front of him, Tharn nearly sighed in relief. Phaya lifted his head toward the surface as an invitation for Tharn to go. Trusting Phaya was right behind, Tharn headed for the surface and yanked aboard the boat by Yai. Tharn turned to help Phaya, but met nothing but an uninterrupted expanse of the ocean’s surface.
No Phaya to be seen.
Through the ringing in his ears he heard Akk call the other boats, everyone else was safe, everyone else accounted for except Phaya. Tharn told Captain Akk then stared back at the depths, willing the ocean to talk to him now. Searched for a sign.
The air disappeared and Tharn was under the water once more. This vision was fast, almost like a still picture, too quick for even the mind splitting pain to take root. A tiny Phaya treaded water in front of a massive shadow. Two green glowing orbs. Phaya was in danger. Tharn’s fear came out as a strangled sob before he swallowed it back by yelling Phaya’s name. He attempted to dive back into the water. Every cell in his body screamed to get to Phaya, to rip the man away from whatever was in shadow. Or cast his own body in front of Phaya.
Strong arms banded around Tharn. Pulling him back from the edge.
“Hang on, Tharn.” Yai said softly. “We can’t help him. We’re still on a training exercise.”
Tharn needed Yai to understand. Not caring that they were in the middle of a crowded boat, he voiced his fear. “P’Yai, I saw it.”
Yai grabbed both of Tharn’s shoulders. A move that Yai had learned early on helped ground Tharn in the here and now. “What did you see?”
Tharn didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure what he saw. Just a massive shadow that felt threatening. It was hunting Phaya. Tharn could sense anger emanating from the ocean. He needed to get in the water now, needed to save Phaya, to protect Phaya. Yai wasn’t relenting though, his iron grip kept Tharn firmly in the boat. So Tharn did the only thing he could, he scrambled to the edge and thrust his arm as deep as he could into the ocean, trusting Yai would keep a grip on him.
Then hoped.
Hoped that Phaya would reach for him. “Phaya, come this way.” Tharn whispered onto the ocean’s surface.
Tharn’s desperate eyes searched the water but saw only darkness until a brilliant, emerald green light surrounded his shoulder where skin met ocean then raced down his arm. In its wake were green and gold scales that seemed to melt into his skin. Tharn blinked hard against the spray of saltwater from where the waves slammed the side of the boat. His arm was still green, but something brushed his hand, gripped his forearm. Tharn latched on and pulled hard. Out of the ocean came Phaya, gasping for breath but wholly alive. Holding him safely against the side of the boat, Tharn cupped the back of Phaya’s head gently and called his name.
Phaya looked so damn rattled. He didn’t wipe away any of the water that slid down his face. Instead, he stared at Tharn with wide eyes and mouthed his name, but there was no sound behind it.
“Help him up.” Yai called and the others pulled Phaya the rest of the way into the boat. Tharn couldn’t let go. His own fear for Phaya still pounded adrenaline through his veins, his heart thumped painfully in his chest. This vision, this near death experience, had left Tharn more rattled than any other. The shadow in the depths felt ancient and angry. If this is what Phaya faced in the water, no wonder he disliked being in it. Tharn leaned them against the side of the boat and put his arm around Phaya’s shoulders while Captain Akk called for them to fire the engines.
Sparing a glance, he saw Phaya still breathing heavily, but staring at Tharn intently. This look was new, Phaya looked confused.
“You okay?” Tharn asked tentatively, hoping Phaya won’t ask what the hell happened in the water because- well- what the hell happened in the water? Tharn had no answers, no explanations for the shadow or the green/gold scales or the anger that emanated from the ocean or the two green orbs he hadn’t seen since he saved a boy from drowning in Nong Khai.
“I’ll survive. I really am beginning to hate the ocean.” Phaya’s voice was soft.
“It seems the ocean feels the same way.” Tharn could sense frustration radiating from the ocean now. Whatever was down there was unhappy Phaya got away.
Tharn shook his head to erase his thoughts. This was sleep deprivation. His visions had been wrong before. Maybe Phaya got caught in the ropes. Or lost on the way to the surface. There was a glint from the flashlights on the water that reflected green and gold. The emotion he was picking up was his own fear still clouding his mind.
Tharn didn’t believe any of that, but now was not the time.
He needed to protect Phaya with his life. There was no rhyme or reason for what he felt, but he didn’t question it either. Yai was still calling soulmate shenanigans with how often Tharn saved Phaya and was waiting for the opportunity to ask the Abbott but Tharn didn’t want to know if that was the case as their lives would be bound together. Tharn’s life was not rainbows and sunshine, it was grief and tragedy, and he didn’t want Phaya to experience that pain. So protection was all Tharn was capable of. Save Phaya, keep him alive.
I am destined to lose those I love.
Tharn cannot lose Phaya. So, to keep Phaya, he had to stay emotionally distant. Keep everyone outside his walls, well, except Sand and Yai, who seemed immune from his curse.
I can love Phaya from a distance.
This time, loving from a distance didn’t feel like enough. For the first time in Tharn's life, he had the desire to draw nearer to someone. He wanted to love without consequence.
He wanted his one to be Phaya.