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“Pran, baby…”
“Yes Pat?”
“Why don’t you put that down, would you?”
“Put what down?” Pran’s voice dripped of faux innocence as he moved his hand, the hose he held in it continuously sprayed water down on the pavement.
“The hose.” Pran only lifted his hand in response, faking surprise at the fact that he was indeed holding one. The movement had him tilt it upwards, shooting a spray of water in Pat’s direction. With a shriek, Pat jumped backwards.
“Come on Napat, it’s just some water.”
Pran was unable to suppress the self satisfied smirk on his lips anymore. He had waited for Pat to turn up to fill his water guns before joining the fight down the street.
On the other end Pat looked wary. Not in the actually concerned way, just like Pran he was playing a game he severely enjoyed, yearned for in fact. Pran had cornered him, surprised him, and it filled him with such delight. They might still bicker and compete, but it was now all heavily accompanied with care and love. Meanings between the lines only they could pick up on.
Pran loved the sight of Pat squirming, taken by surprise by him. And Pat loved taking Pran’s meticulous plans and turning them right back against him.
Without warning Pat launched himself forwards, trying to snatch the hose right out of Pran’s hand. His first attempt was a clear failure as Pran moved out of the way with a shriek followed by laughter and Pat getting blasted with water in his face.
It quickly drenched his shirt, a yellow Hawaiian one, and made his hair start to stick to his face. The coolness of the water felt nice against his skin, soothing against the warm rays of the sun.
The smirk on Pran’s face Pat found as beautiful and enchanting as it was irritating. It was hard to decide whether he wanted to kiss those lips or just wipe the smug look off of them. Though he figured he could probably do the latter with the former.
It only took a few seconds before Pat launched his next attack. Pran is quick to pull the hose out of the way, but it’s not what Pat was aiming for. Strong hands instead grabbed Pran’s waist, bundling up the soft fabric between wet fingers.
Pran noticed then that Pat’s hands weren’t just wet, but also covered in a thick layer of the typical songkran white talc powder, staining his shirt with it. Of course Pat wasn’t satisfied there, and he started to move one hand over Pran’s chest to make more of a mess of it.
“Pat- where did you-” Pran half laughed.
Pat went for the hose again, with more success. He managed to wrap his hand around Pran’s and with some force maneuvering it away from himself. Even though it’s a bit late Pran tries to pull it away on pure reflex, holding it straight up, causing the water to rain down on both of them equally.
“Pat- I swear if you don’t-”
“What? It’s just some talc powder baby,” Pat interrupted Pran before he could finish. Their faces were close to each other. Enough so were Pat easily saw the way Pran’s eyes widened ever so slightly at the teasing provocation. The look in those eyes was enough to send a thrill down Pat’s spine. It was hot.
Of course Pran was quick to answer. With a sweep of his free hand he stole a significant amount of the powder from the hand gripping his waist, and proceeded to smear it over the left side of Pat’s face.
Just like that they went back and forth. Pat making many attempts to claim the hose. Never was he entirely successful but several times he managed to direct it enough to douse Pran in water instead of himself.
It's ridiculous and silly. They were both so lost in it that they laughed and cursed on repeat.
Pran's heart felt so light and free. He allowed himself to just be. No overthinking, no daunting threat lingering at the back of his mind. The joy, having fun with Pat, the thing he had been denied for most of his life he suddenly had. And it felt so good. Addicting.
And Pat... Pat could tell. He had learnt to read Pran despite his attempts to keep his emotions close to his chest. Pat could tell how happy and relaxed Pran was. He heard the happiness in his laughter, the sparkles of delight in his eyes. Pat couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful.
“Pat! Not on my face.” Pran sounded way too happy for Pat to take his complaint seriously.
“But… my dimples Pran. I need to bless them!” Pat pouted and continued to reach out to Pran's face.
“ Your dimples? They are on my face idiot!”
Pran's hand pressed against Pat's chest, trying to keep him at a distance.
“Yes- but they are my lucky dimples! I need to make them even luckier! For prosperity!”
Pran laughed wholeheartedly at his boyfriend’s antics, as he felt his cheek getting covered in the powder as Pat brushed his thumb over the soft skin. “You are crazy!”
“Crazy in love!”
“Freak!”
“Freakishly handsome.”
“Psycho.”
“Only yours."
The only negative thing Pat found with covering Pat’s cheeks, was that he couldn’t see the blush he knew was hiding underneath the mess.
Then they are back to blasting each other with water. They only stop when they are both out of breath and look like complete messes. It allowed Pat to remember why he had headed towards the hose in the first case.
“The water guns! Pran help me fill them.”
Pran does. Pat had a whole arsenal of them too. When he became satisfied with their ammunition he easily grabbed Pran’s hand, and Pran easily held it firmly in return. Pat pulled them forwards and they headed down the street together with light steps, wide smiles, and hearts so full and content.