Chapter Text
White double checked that he had the correct faculty while walking up the steps of the university's entrance. The space was filled with students sitting at benches, some clearly catching up on forgotten homework and others just catching up with friends. Todd had said White would spot them easily, “rough kids who look ready for a fight” were his exact words, but looking around at all the students, White was starting to doubt his friend. The description didn't exactly fit the students carrying hefty law textbooks around.
He could do this. He had to do this. Black needed him. White had been separated from his twin at an early age, their parents deeming them unsafe to be near each other after White had suffered from a cramp in their swimming pool and Black, feeling every bit of White’s pain, had nearly drowned in their outside shower at the same moment. He hadn’t spoken to Black since, all contact cut off by their parents.
He had returned to Thailand earlier that week to begin preparing to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a diplomat. It was while surrounded by the influential men in a restaurant that White had discovered that his and Black’s connection had not in fact disappeared for good. He had gasped for air, his heart thudding in his chest until he had collapsed to the floor and had woken up confused, more scared that he had ruined his father’s efforts than for his own health.
The doctors had told him that nothing was wrong. He wanted to ask about any other patients being admitted under the same last name as him but bit his tongue. White didn’t want to bring the topic of his twin up in the presence of his father. It was later that night, while White was blessedly alone, that Todd had called and informed him of Black’s condition and suggested his plan to seek revenge. Everything was happening in such a blur that White hadn’t thought to ask how Todd had got a hold of his phone number.
White took in a shaky breath, hiking his bag higher and squaring his shoulders. He would be fine. Todd had filled him in, he knew what he had to do. His fresh piercings were still a little irritated, and the tattoo on the back of his right arm still itched terribly. The discomfort was an unpleasant reminder of why he was doing this. He just had to pretend to be Black. How hard could that be?
The looming poster of Tawi Kuerkulsvasti, a Thai business man whose name he had heard repeatedly in conversation while studying in Russia, confirmed to White that he was indeed in the correct place. He didn't imagine the powerful millionaire would be holding a lecture in any other faculty other than one of business and law. White jumped in surprise as an arm was thrown over his shoulder as he read about the special lecture being held later that month.
“You’re early today.”
White tried his best to cover his surprise at the appearance of the boy, who if he remembered correctly from Todd’s crash course, was named Gram.
“You’ve been gone for days, where were you?”
“Gram…” White paused, unsure of what to say. Gram was watching him intensely, eyebrows raised expectantly as he waited for an answer. “I got up early.”
The arm around White’s shoulder was holding onto the strap of his bag, keeping him pressed against Gram’s side. “You’re not usually gone for this long.” Gram wasn’t looking at White directly, instead he was staring ahead at the image of Tawi. His face scrunched in what White could only guess was disgust, although he had no clue what about the poster warranted such an expression. “I was worried. Why didn’t you reply to my texts? I wish you would at least have told me you were going off somewhere.”
White wanted to scoff. He also wanted to know what Black was up to.
Gram finally took his arm back and created a little space between them. “Hey, should we go to the talk and cause him some trouble?”
“Cause trouble?” White frowned. Why would they want to do that?
“Like you said, he enjoys taking advantage of others. He should pay for it some day.” He nudged White. “And don’t ignore my question, you were gone for nearly a week, I deserve an explanation at least.”
“It was nothing.” White replied too quickly.
Gram looked displeased with the response, but let it slide. “I’ll get you to open up some day.” He flashed a wide smile that if White was looking closely, may have looked forced, and pulled White back into a side hug. He leaned in close, nose brushing White’s cheek. He sniffed. “You’re wearing perfume now?”
White, in panic, shoved Gram away, ducking underneath the taller boy’s arm. “Do you want to eat first or go straight to class?”
Gram ignored him and continued, “Your skin looks better. You styled your hair too, huh?”
White pushed away the hand that tried to brush through his hair. “I didn’t.”
“Come on, I’m not complaining. I’ve always wanted you to do it but you never did. Ah!" Gram clapped his hands together as if he had thought of something important. "Is this what you disappeared for? Did you watch tutorials?”
“I didn’t!” White rolled his eyes at Gram’s teasing. “Let’s go to class. Where is it anyway?”
“Want to know where?” Gram pressed the quickest of kisses to the top of White’s head. “Catch up with me.” Gram rushed off, leaving White with no option but to follow quickly.
“Where is everyone?” White asked as he and Gram left the university building. The day had not been easy for White, consisting of classes on subjects he didn’t have much knowledge on and a surprise quiz on top. He’d have to apologise to Black for his bad grades when he woke up.
“Why are you asking about them?” Gram replied as he bumped his knuckles against White’s own as they walked.
“Can’t I ask?”
“You don’t usually ask for anyone.” Gram gave him a look. “You’re acting weird today.”
“I just have something to talk to them about.”
“Are you guys fighting again?” Gram scoffed. “We’re going to the garage anyway. We’ll meet them there.” With that, Gram jumped from the ramp they were making their way down, and walked up to one of the motorbikes that was parked there.
White stopped in his tracks and gulped when he realised that he was also supposed to jump down. He sat on the edge and lowered himself down as far as he could before dropping the rest of the way to the ground, stumbling as he landed. Smooth, he thought to himself as Gram watched him. At least he hadn't landed on his face.
“Why are you just standing there?” Gram asked. He looked around, frowning. “Where's your ride?”
“What ride?”
“Your motorbike.” Gram pressed the back of his hand to White’s forehead. “You’re not sick, so what’s up with you today?”
“The engine died. I left it at home.”
Gram didn’t look convinced, an eyebrow raised as he replied, “The engine died?”
White shrugged. “I couldn’t get it started. What do you want me to do?”
Gram huffed a sigh and tilted his head. “Where have you been exactly? You’re acting even more elusive than normal.”
To White’s surprise, he didn’t sound angry. He sounded upset. “I had personal stuff to deal with. Why do you want to know?”
“Seriously?” Gram sighed, “Of course I want to know. You don’t tell me anything.”
White was at a loss of what to say. Did Black treat his closest friends this poorly?
“Fine, whatever. You can ride with me today.” Gram swiped the helmet from the bike next to his own and passed it to White. “We haven't done this in forever, it's a good excuse.”
“Whose helmet is this?”
Gram rolled his eyes. “Just take it, we can return it later.”
White had a feeling they wouldn’t be returning the helmet. He put it on anyway and swung his leg over the bike behind Gram. He didn’t want to test his patience any further than he already had.
Before starting the engine, Gram turned around. “Black, you keep surprising me today.”
“And?”
“Nothing.” Even behind the silver helmet White could tell he was smiling. “This is good. I actually think I might like this version of you, once I’m used to it.”
Gram started the engine and White was jolted into his back, his light hold on Gram’s waist tightening. From the shaking of Gram’s shoulders, White had a feeling the act was on purpose.
White struggled off the back of the bike upon arriving at what looked like a garage, taking the initiative to open the large metal sliding door for Gram to be able to ride the bike inside. He took in his surroundings as he followed the other’s lead in taking off his helmet and white button up shirt, leaving both the shirt and bag by Gram’s bike.
He followed Gram further inside, feeling even more tense than he had earlier in the day. Being at the university was one thing, but entering the garage felt like walking into a lion's den. White attempted to calm his racing heart down by considering how dangerous Black’s other friends could possibly be if Gram appeared so, well, normal.
Gram stopped to greet a tattooed boy who was working on a motorbike not dissimilar to Gram’s. “Hey, Yok.”
Yok looked up from the bike he was working on with a frown. “Why are you guys so early?” White wasn’t sure if he was simply unhappy about being interrupted or if his annoyance came from who was interrupting him.
“I had to bring the bike for you to wrap.” Gram replied. “I need it done by tonight.”
Yok nodded. “I’m on it.”
“I’ll go get us a drink.” Gram brushed a hand over White’s lower back as he left.
White nodded and turned his attention to the boy who was working. “Hi, Yok.” Yok glanced up at the sound of his name but didn’t acknowledge White with a reply. “You’re doing a nice job.”
“Are you giving me a compliment?” Yok paused his work and put the tool he was using down. “One compliment doesn’t make up for disappearing on us like you did. You could have at least let Gram know where you were.”
“I was being sarcastic.” White’s palms were starting to sweat. “You don’t seem surprised to see me.”
“Gram messaged me, obviously.” Yok rolled his eyes. “And it’s just a motorbike wrap, how pretty do you want it? If you know so much, why don’t you just do it yourself?” He brushed past White without waiting for a response, heading further into the garage.
White followed him, taking in the large open room, walls lined with shelves upon shelves of cans and tools and what to White’s untrained eye looked like pieces of junk scattered around. A makeshift coffee table made out of a large wooden box was in the middle of the room, surrounded by mismatched couches and chairs that had all seen better days.
Gram came up behind him and pressed a cold can to his face. “Why is Yok sulking?” White shrugged. Gram probably knew it was because of him. “It won’t take him long to get over it, don’t worry.” He paused for a moment. “About earlier… I didn’t want to start an argument. I just know your ride is quite a big deal to you. It’s surprising it broke down.”
White gave Gram a small smile. “I know, it’s fine.”
The taller set his can down on a nearby table and took White’s free hand in his, the other one circling his waist and pulling him in so that they were almost pressed against each other. Unsure of what to do, White let the intimate gesture happen, focusing on keeping his expression neutral and staying in character. “I’m still mad that you went so silent on me. Not as mad as Yok but…” Gram trailed off.
“I’m sorry.”
Gram looked slightly taken aback by the apology. “Just - just don’t do it again.” He stuttered. “At least tell me when you’re doing whatever it is you do when you disappear.”
“I will.” When I figure it out, White added silently to himself.
Gram rubbed White’s back as if to soothe him, and let go of his hand in favour of holding his cheek. “I missed you.” He said it quietly, as if it was something he wasn’t allowed to say out loud.
All White could do was give him an awkward smile.
Gram leaned down, and before White could avoid it, he was pressing a kiss to his lips, soft and gentle. He pulled away just as quickly, smiling. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.” White stayed motionless, incredibly confused about what was going on. Gram moved his hands to his shoulders, leaning back to get a better look at White’s face, an eyebrow raised. “Are you okay?”
White opened and closed his mouth, but nothing was coming out. “Um…”
Gram touched the back of his hand to White's forehead as if to check his temperature. His frown deepened. “Black? You’re not going to faint on me or something, are you?”
“No - no, I’m fine. Sorry.”
“Okay…” Gram was still looking at him with concern, “if you’re sure, baby.”
“I - yeah - yes - I am.” White stammered, forcing a smile while all the while trying to decide if he had misheard Gram. Baby? He can’t have just called Black baby, surely?
“Stop subjecting me to your flirting and come help me.” Yok complained loudly.
Gram chuckled and called over his shoulder that he would be right there. He pressed a kiss to White’s forehead and, much to White’s relief, put some space between them. “I’m going to go help Yok. Don’t get yourself into trouble.”
White shoved him, attempting to act as if everything that was happening was normal. “How much trouble can I get into here?” Gram scoffed.
With both of Black’s friends busy, White was left alone to wander around the garage. It was clearly a work space, but it somehow felt lived in at the same time. Despite the strong smell of chemicals and high ceiling, the space felt homely and warm, and not just from the unbearable Thai heat. A ladder was propped up against what looked like a makeshift loft area, separated from the work space with an unstable looking railing. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching him, White climbed up.
He tripped over a stray pair of jeans that had been dumped on the ground, grateful for the table in front of him for catching his fall before he could make too much noise and draw attention to himself. The floor under his feet didn't feel right, like he was walking on a pebbled path and White glanced down at his feet to find bullet casings scattered all around him, along with countless other things.
White stumbled backwards, looking up and around, anywhere but at what he was standing on. Only not looking at the floor meant looking at the table, various weapons lined up along it. Heart racing, White turned around to climb back down, when the shadow of a person appeared in his peripheral vision. A target practice. White let out a deep breath of relief. Why on earth would someone have a target board, in the shape of a person, in a garage.
At the other end was a door covered in spray paint. As quietly as he could, White pulled at the door, but it appeared to be locked. As he tried to open it, it suddenly moved, and another boy appeared behind it glaring down at White.
“What are you doing?” He asked angrily.
“I’m using the bathroom.” Mimicking the attitude of the boy, who White recognised as the third friend from Todd’s photo - was it Sean? - was giving him.
Sean grabbed White by the neck, drawing him in to loom over his shorter frame. “Don’t lie. Why are you sneaking into my room?”
“I…”
White couldn’t come up with an excuse before Sean was raising a fist. White’s hands flew up in protection, body flinching away from harm on instinct. It was evident that this was not the response Black would have given, from the look on Sean’s face.
Lowering his fist, Sean let White go. “What’s got into you?”
The question everyone was asking.
“Sean, the fuel is leaking!” Yok’s voice shouted up to the pair, a welcome distraction for White. Sean shut his door firmly, giving White a pointed look before disappearing down the ladder.
White followed him down a moment later, descending far more carefully than Sean had. White watched as he began working on a bike, intrigued. White was smart, but he had zero knowledge on the topic of mechanics. Hell, he’d never even ridden a motorbike before that afternoon.
“What are you staring at?”
“I’m not.”
Sean sighed. “You obviously are.”
White leant against the bike and teased, “I just want to make sure that you’re fixing it up nicely.”
“Big talk from the one who apparently couldn't get theirs started.” White huffed. Did Gram narrate everything Black did to their friends? “Bring me the engine oil.”
White looked around blindly. He had no idea what engine oil looked like. He didn’t even know what it was stored in. Black would know, he berated himself as he scanned the shelves nearby, assuming that Sean asked because he was closest. He found a tin thankfully clearly labelled and brought it over to where Sean was working.
“Here-” As he was handing the tin over White kicked a tray, splashing oil over the floor and Sean.
Sean looked up at White in disbelief. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
White raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t! I honestly didn’t see it!”
Sean’s lips were pressed together, unimpressed. “You know I’m changing the oil, the tray can’t be anywhere else but right here!”
“I’m sorry!” White continued to apologise profusely. “I really didn’t mean to.”
“Come here.” Sean grabbed the tray and stood up, rushing towards White, ready to tip the remaining oil over his head. They pushed the tray between them, bickering the entire time, until the tray eventually tipped in Sean’s direction. The oil dripped down his face as White failed to hold in a laugh that bubbled up.
“You deserved that.” He snickered.
Sean raised an eyebrow deviously. “I won’t get messed up alone.”
White backed away from Sean as he approached, arms raised in defence as he kept the tattered couch between them. He hadn’t accounted for Sean leaping over the couch and chasing him. It didn’t take him long to catch White, dragging him to the concrete floor and holding onto him tightly, trapping the smaller body underneath his own and rubbing his oil-covered face and body against White.
He only let up when someone pulled them apart and the now greasy pair looked up to see Gram glaring down at Sean. “What are you doing to my boyfriend?”
Sean rolled his eyes as Gram helped White stand, uncaring of his hands getting covered in oil as he fussed over him. “I’m fine.” White managed to get out while processing the fact that Gram had called Black his boyfriend. His behaviour throughout the day was suddenly making a lot more sense.
“It’s just oil.” Sean scoffed as he pushed himself to his feet.
“What are you two doing? You got oil everywhere!”
White glanced over to the new voice. A man that looked a few years older than Black’s friends was watching the scene. Todd hadn’t mentioned him during his briefing.
Sean bowed his head. “Sorry Gumpa. Black started it.”
“Go get cleaned up. Outside, don’t ruin my bathroom.”
White hung back after they were done cleaning up, taking his time to check the lockers when everyone else wasn’t looking, trying to find Black’s. “Here,” Gram appeared in front of him, a hoodie in his outstretched hand, “wear this.”
White smiled gratefully. “Thanks.” He pulled the hoodie over his head, the clothing hanging off his slim shoulders. It was clearly not Black’s. “Do you just like seeing me in your clothes?” White teased, praying this was the kind of banter Black took part in.
Gram laughed, stepping into White’s space and bringing him into a hug. His voice was tender as he said, “You know I do.”
“Gumpa, they’re doing it again.” Yok groaned childishly. “We need a no PDA policy.”
“We need a no Black policy.” Sean piped up.
Gumpa sighed. “I’ll cut your hours if you keep arguing like this.”
“Hey!” Sean cried indignantly.
As White observed the friends, Gram’s arm over his shoulder, he let the enormity of what he was attempting to do hit him. He was becoming more unsure if he was going to be able to get out of this without being exposed. It seemed, despite their faces being identical, he and his twin were complete opposites in everything else.
It was also clear that Todd had left out some vital information about Black’s relationship with Gram.