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It had been two years since Pran returned from Singapore, and Pat revealed in it every day. The difference from living alone to having the love of his life sharing the space was like night and day. He was good on his own, but he wasn’t complete without Pran, that had been a constant truth his whole life even before he realised it.
It wasn’t always a dance on roses. They fought and argued constantly, two strong wills put against each other. But they also communicated, made up. They understood each other like no one else could. It was like a dance where they sometimes chose different styles yet always moved to the same rhythm. At least that’s what Pat thought, he had never been a great dancer.
Even as time went on they continued to encounter new ‘firsts’ together. Today included.
Last songkran they had mostly celebrated with friends. They had done a deep clean of their home, paid merit to the monks at the nearby temple, participated in the water fights, and gotten absolutely wasted. But, notably, they hadn’t gone home to either of their parents.
Pat knew his own father had been disappointed but he hadn’t given less of a shit about it. Though he knew that Pran had at least been affected. While he was no longer dependent on her, Pran still cared greatly for Dissaya.
It came as a bit of a surprise when Pran’s mother had invited them both over this year. To be precise the idea of sharing a meal with them wasn’t odd, Pran’s parents had visited them at their apartments a few times over the last year, it was the fact that Pat was going there. To Pran’s childhood home. Through the front door.
Pat was oddly nervous about it. He hadn’t considered it that big of a deal until now. Though with how intensely Pran stared out the bus window beside him, Pat knew he wasn’t the only one. Unabashedly and with no attempt at subtlety he reached for Pran’s hand, intertwining their fingers in Pran’s lap.
The reaction was immediate. Pran turned his head at lightning speed to look at their hands, then up at Pat, eyes wide with something emotional behind them. “What are you playing?”
“I’m not playing,” Pat replied with a playful tone. “Maybe I’m just nervous and want to hold my boyfriend’s hand for comfort.”
Pran’s whole demeanor relaxed immediately, and while the tension didn’t leave fully it was miles better than seconds ago. Instead of his (very kissable in Pat’s opinion) mouth in a tight line and (breathtaking in Pat’s opinion) eyes clouded in worry, he now smirked weakly but genuinely. “Bullshit. You just want to be clingy and you can’t because we are in public.”
“Guilty as charged.”
Entering through the front door had been oddly emotional for Pat. From Dissaya giving a polite, though still genuine smile, as he handed over the flowers they had brought with them to her speaking, "Welcome. Food is almost ready."
Even from the door Pat picked up on the mouthwatering scent wafting through the air. A scent he had never been allowed to taste the source of before. It turned out to be delicious, of course it did. Pran always praised his mother's cooking when he had the oppertunity. Pat did avoid the more spicier options during their dinner together, but there was still plenty to eat for him. Especially so since it seemed Dissaya had gone out of her way to offer more, with Pat's own words, lethaly-spicy disshes.
Pat's hand was resting on Pran's leg when he at some point during dinner tried to make Pran form a heart with his other one. His expression went from surprise, to disbelief and then an endeared smile as he swatted Pat's hand away. Though not without also letting a blush warm up his cheeks.
Pat also made sure to help with the dishes after dinner. While Dissaya started to wash the plates Pat moved everything to the kitchen. There was a moment, where he hesitated, stoped beside her.
When she turned to look at him, lifting her eyebrows slightly in question she looked so so much like Pran.
"Thank you for inviting me." It felt so crucial to say, so life changing. Pat wasn't sure if Dissaya understood the weight behind those words.
"Oh-" She turned off the water, eyes wandering over the filled sink. For a bried moment she bit her lip. Pat didn't mind the wait, if she needed time to think. He was used to how one Siridechawat worked, he could manage another. "Of course."
Something about her expresion had Pat wait more. He could tell she wasn't quiet finished. Once again likely due to the fact he could recognise when Pran had more to say.
"I'm sorry it took so long and... thank you. Thank you for all you have done for my son."
