Chapter Text
The smaller house in Thame's backyard was perfect for sleepovers. It was just old enough to creak in the wind, just far enough from the main house to feel like a world of their own. The bedroom they were in had a strange charm, with its wooden floors, thick blankets scattered around, and a set of double doors with frosted glass panes that blurred the outside world into shifting shapes.
Jun's phone flashlight was the only source of light, casting long shadows as the five boys (Thame, Jun, Pepper, Nano, and Dylan) lay on the floor, tossing around ghost stories like they were playing a game of catch.
"What if..." Pepper started, his voice taking on a storyteller's lilt. "Someone was just standing outside those doors, watching us?"
Nano groaned, pulling his blanket up to his chin. "No, don't start."
"But think about it." Jun jumped in, grinning. "What if the glass isn't blurring anything? What if there's actually nothing there, and something's just standing on the other side, staring at us?"
Nano kicked at him weakly, muttering 'shut up' while Dylan just chuckled, shaking his head. Thame, however, had a different idea. He stood up without a word, slipping out of the room before anyone noticed.
Jun kept talking, waving his flashlight toward the doors. "If anything actually shows up, I'm throwing Pepper at it-"
A shadow moved outside.
The light hit the glass, and there was Thame. His hands pressed against the panes, his face eerily blank, his mouth stretching into a slow, unsettling smile. Nano shrieked. Pepper flinched so hard he knocked over a pillow. Dylan let out a startled "Shit!" while Jun nearly dropped his phone before bursting into laughter.
"Holy fuck, Thame!" Jun wheezed. "You asshole!"
But before Thame could revel in his success, something changed.
A presence.
Cold hands wrapped around his waist from behind. A weight pressed against his back. It felt broad, unmoving. The air around him thickened. His pulse lurched. In the reflection of the darkened glass, a shadow darker than the night itself stood behind him. No features. No movement. Just there.
He forced himself to stay still. If he reacted too suddenly, the others would notice. If he reacted too slowly. He turned his head, just slightly.
Nothing. The shadow was gone. The sensation of hands lingered, though, as if something had touched him and simply let go.
"Nice try." Jun called, still laughing. "You almost got us."
Thame exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders to shake off the feeling. "Yeah, yeah. Just making sure you guys actually screamed."
His voice was steady. Too steady.
He stepped back inside, shutting the doors behind him. The warmth of the room was a sharp contrast to the cold still clinging to his skin. Nano immediately latched onto his arm, as expected. "You're warm." He mumbled, pressing close. "Let me use you as a heater."
Thame didn't hesitate, wrapping an arm around Nano's shoulders. It was easier to focus on his friend's familiar weight than the phantom feeling of hands around his waist. The conversation picked up again, more teasing, more ghost stories, but as Thame pulled the blanket over himself, he caught Pepper watching him. Not laughing, not joking. Just watching.
Their eyes met for a brief second before Thame looked away. Pepper noticed. Thame hoped he wouldn't ask. Because he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
The night went on as usual.
Dylan and Jun stayed up the longest, whispering dumb jokes until they eventually passed out. Nano clung to Thame like a koala, his breathing soft and even. Pepper was the last one awake, but he never said a word about what happened earlier. He just watched, thoughtful, before finally closing his eyes.
Thame should have slept easily. But when he drifted off, the dream came.
He was walking.
The street stretched long and empty, bathed in the warm glow of streetlights. It felt familiar but distant, like a place he had visited once and barely remembered. The air was cool, the sky overhead a deep shade of indigo, and everything was quiet except for the sound of his own footsteps.
Then, there was sudden impact. He collided with someone, their shoulders brushing, the warmth of their body briefly pressing against his.
Thame stumbled back, blinking in surprise. "Sorry-" The words caught in his throat. The guy standing before him was beautiful.
Sharp features, dark expressive eyes, lips that curled into the faintest hint of a smirk. His black hair was tousled like he had just run his fingers through it, and there was something about him, something about the way he looked at Thame that felt strange. Like he knew him.
But Thame didn't know him.
"...Are you okay?" Thame asked hesitantly.
The guy didn't answer right away. He just looked at him, tilting his head slightly. Then, finally, he smiled. It was small, unreadable. "You can see me?"
Thame frowned. "Huh?"
The streetlight above them flickered. And then he woke up.
Thame sat up with a sharp inhale. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his fingers curled tightly into the blanket beneath him. The room was still dark, faint moonlight filtering through the frosted glass doors. His heart pounded.
The dream had been short. Barely a moment but the way that guy had looked at him... it stuck. The words still echoed in his head.
"You can see me?"
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his damp hair. His shirt clung to his back, sweat cooling against his skin. He didn't feel scared, exactly. Just restless. Eventually, exhaustion won over curiosity, and he let himself drift back to sleep.
It wasn't long before he dreamed again. This time, he was sitting inside a café.
Soft music hummed through the air, mingling with the quiet chatter of other customers. The scent of fresh coffee and warm pastries wrapped around him like a familiar embrace. A cup sat half-full in front of him, but he wasn't drinking.
Instead, he was looking out the window.
The street outside was lined with trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Cars passed by occasionally, but Thame's attention wasn't on them. It was on him. The beautiful man from his last dream.
He was crouched on the other side of the street, petting a stray cat. His black hair fell slightly over his forehead, shifting with every movement. His fingers ran gently over the cat's fur, slow and deliberate. The cat arched into the touch, completely taken by him.
Thame felt the same. Something about him was captivating. The way he moved, the way he carried himself. It was effortlessly graceful, like he belonged in the dream more than anything else. The world around him seemed dull in comparison.
Thame watched as he tilted his head slightly, his lips moving as if whispering something to the cat. His eyes crinkled just a little, like a quiet, secret amusement.
Pretty.
The thought came so naturally that it startled him. The man must have felt the weight of Thame's stare because, slowly, he looked up. Their eyes met through the glass, and Thame's breath hitched.
The man didn't react right away. He just watched him, unreadable. Then, after what felt like forever, he smiled. Soft. Knowing. Thame wanted to move. To do something, but before he could, the world around him flickered.
And he woke up again. A sharp gasp left his lips. He sat up instantly, his body damp with sweat, heart hammering in his chest. His breath came fast and uneven, his head light from the sudden jolt back to reality.
His blanket was half-kicked off, his shirt sticking to his back uncomfortably. The room was still dim, early morning light barely creeping through the doors. The others were still asleep. Jun was snoring lightly, Nano curled up against Thame's side like always.
Thame ran a shaky hand down his face.
That dream had felt real. Too real. The café, the street, the way the sunlight hit the guy's hair, the warmth in his smile. It wasn't just a hazy, dreamlike blur. It had detail. Feeling. And worst of all, it lingered.
The morning stretched lazily, golden sunlight spilling through the windows as the five of them slowly woke up. Jun was the last to stir, grumbling into his pillow when Dylan shoved him to get up. Nano, still half-asleep, clung to Thame's arm for a few extra minutes before finally letting go to search for food.
Breakfast was a mess.
Dylan tried to make eggs but nearly burned them. Jun knocked over a cup, sending orange juice across the table. Nano stole half of Pepper's toast when he wasn't looking, and somehow, nobody stopped him.
Thame sat among the chaos, eating slowly, still feeling off.
The dream lingered in the back of his mind, curling around his thoughts like an unshakable whisper. He could still see the guy crouched on the sidewalk, still feel the moment their eyes met through the café window. That soft, knowing smile.
It was stupid. It was just a dream. But even now, as Dylan flicked a crumb at Jun and got whacked with a napkin in return, Thame found his gaze drifting to the window. Outside, the backyard swayed gently in the breeze. Bright and warm. Nothing strange, nothing there. Yet, the feeling remained.
By midday, the group started packing up their things.
Jun groaned dramatically, flopping onto the couch. "I don't wanna go home."
"Then stay." Pepper said dryly, tossing his bag over his shoulder.
"Fine, I will."
"No." Thame said, grabbing Jun's arm and hauling him up. "You won't."
Nano giggled from beside the door, hugging Thame one last time before slipping into his shoes. "We'll come over again soon."
Dylan slung an arm over Nano's shoulder, grinning. "Yeah, maybe next time you get to be the one scaring us, Thame."
Thame rolled his eyes, forcing a smirk. "I'll make sure you cry next time."
Nano pouted. "You did make me cry."
The others laughed, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Thame watched as they left, waving until they disappeared down the street. The house felt quieter without them. He let out a breath and shut the door, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in.
Maybe he could take a nap. But the thought of sleeping made his stomach twist.
Instead, he moved around the house, busying himself with small tasks. He cleaned up the blankets they had used for the sleepover, folded them neatly, and stacked them away. He wandered outside for a bit, sitting on the steps leading to the backyard, staring at the smaller house where they had slept. The doors were shut. The frosted glass windows reflected the sky, nothing more.
Still, he shivered. Shaking it off, he went back inside. The afternoon passed in a blur of distraction.
He scrolled through his phone without really reading anything. He played music, but the background noise did little to shake the restlessness inside him.
His mind kept pulling him back. To the dream. To him. The way he looked, the way he moved. The way he felt real. Thame sighed, rubbing his temples. He was being ridiculous. It was just a dream.
Just a dream.
Still, when the sun started setting, he felt a quiet sense of unease settle over him. Because night was coming again. And he knew deep in his gut that he would see him again.
As night settled over the house, Thame moved through his usual routine.
A shower first, the warm water washing away the lingering stickiness of the day. He stood under the stream longer than usual, eyes closed, head tilted forward. The quiet hum of the water was grounding, but no matter how much he tried to clear his thoughts, they circled back again and again, to the dreams. To him.
Thame huffed, raking his fingers through his wet hair before shutting off the water. He dried off quickly, slipped into an old t-shirt and sweatpants, then made his way to his room.
His bedroom was comfortable, familiar. Posters lined the walls, his desk was cluttered with random sketches and books, and his bed was just messy enough to be inviting. He tossed his phone onto the nightstand, crawled under the blankets, and exhaled slowly.
Maybe tonight, he'd dream about something normal. Maybe tonight, he wouldn't see him. So, Thame closed his eyes, and slipped into sleep.
He was walking through a dimly lit hallway. The walls stretched long, impossibly endless, bathed in the dull glow of overhead lights. Each step echoed softly beneath him, but the air was thick, too still.
Doors lined the corridor on either side. Some were slightly open, revealing glimpses of dark, empty rooms. Others were shut tight, locked. He didn't know where he was going, he just kept walking.
At some point, a sound broke the silence. A soft tap, tap, tap, like fingertips brushing against glass. Thame slowed, his breath catching. At the far end of the hallway, a window stood tall, fogged up as if someone had been breathing against it.
And in the faintest blur of reflection, stood a figure. Thame's pulse stuttered. He squinted, but the moment he took another step forward, the light overhead flickered. The window darkened. The figure was gone.
He stood frozen for a long moment, waiting, listening, but nothing happened. No whispers. No movement. No presence pressing against his back, just silence. The hallway stretched on. And then he woke up.
Thame sat up with a sharp breath. Why were these dreams so vivid, so real?
His bedroom was dark, save for the faint glow of the streetlamp outside filtering through the curtains. He rubbed at his face, trying to shake the unease clinging to his skin. This dream had been different. He had barely seen him. It was just the vague presence of someone, lingering, watching. But somehow, that made it worse.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his hair. The room felt too still, like the silence had weight.
A thought formed. An irrational one. A ridiculous one. But before he could talk himself out of it, he was already standing.
He grabbed a pillow, then hesitated before picking up a blanket too. His feet moved almost on instinct, carrying him quietly down the hall, out of the main house, into the cool night air.
The backyard was quiet, a faint breeze rustling through the trees. The smaller house stood there, just as they had left it. Nothing was out of place. Still, when he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, he let out a slow breath.
Somehow, this felt better. He dropped onto one of the blankets they had used for the sleepover, adjusting the pillow beneath his head. The room smelled faintly like his friends, like the remnants of laughter and warmth from the night before.
As he settled in, he exhaled one last time and murmured into the dark, "I don't usually sleep here. My bedroom is in the bigger house, right next to the bathroom."
But tonight, this was where he wanted to be. Tonight, it felt right.
The air was cool. A gentle breeze rolled through the open space, rustling the leaves overhead. The sky stretched endlessly above, painted in soft hues of blue and gray, like the early moments of dusk.
Thame was outside. He sat on the edge of something. A low stone wall, maybe, or a ledge overlooking a quiet path. The world around him was unfamiliar, yet peaceful.
And across from him was Him. The beautiful stranger. He sat just a few feet away, cross-legged on the grass, his dark eyes flickering with quiet amusement. A soft wind played with his hair, shifting the strands ever so slightly.
They weren't talking. Not yet. But they were here, existing in the same space, the silence between them not heavy or awkward, just present.
Thame watched as the man idly plucked a blade of grass, twirling it between his fingers. His hands were elegant, his movements unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world.
The way he looked at Thame, though... It was like he knew something, like there was a secret hidden between them, just barely out of reach. Thame should have asked something. Said something, but the words never came. Instead, they just sat there. Existing.
The wind carried the faint scent of something Thame couldn't quite name. Something light and familiar, like rain on warm pavement. A distant bird called out, the sound melting into the quiet hum of the dream.
It felt real and normal. And then, the man moved just slightly. Just enough that his knee bumped lightly against Thame's. It was a barely-there touch. Barely anything at all, but it sent a quiet shiver through Thame's body, like a ripple spreading across still water.
He looked down at where their legs touched, but before he could react, the world shifted, and Thame's dream came to an end.
Thame's eyes fluttered open. He wasn't sweating this time, but his heartbeat felt unsteady, like it was struggling to catch up to reality. The room was dim, early morning barely stretching across the frosted glass doors. He could hear the distant hum of birds outside, the quiet sound of wind rustling through the backyard.
For a long moment, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. That dream had been different. Not eerie. Not unsettling. Just... calm.
And the guy hadn't been distant this time. He hadn't been watching from far away or lingering in the shadows of reflections. He had been right there, close enough to touch.
Thame exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to his forehead. He didn't know what was happening. But something told him this wasn't going to stop.
He was right, because the dreams didn't stop. Every night, without fail, he saw him. They never spoke, barely touched, but they were always together.
They walked side by side through empty streets, passing by warmly lit shop windows, the occasional hum of distant traffic filling the quiet. They sat across from each other in restaurants, eating in comfortable silence, Thame occasionally glancing up to find the stranger already watching him.
They rode the train together once, neither of them speaking as the city blurred past outside the window. The routine changed, but he never did. He always had the same calm expression on his face. Always the same knowing eyes.
By the fourth or fifth night, Thame was starting to lose it. By the seventh, he was sure of it. Because this wasn't normal, and he needed to tell someone.
"Sup, Jun." Thame slumped into the seat across from his friend, dropping his tray onto the table without grace. His coffee nearly tipped over, but he caught it just in time, groaning as he ran a hand down his face.
Jun, mid-bite into a sandwich, barely blinked at the disaster unfolding before him. Instead, he simply raised an eyebrow. "Yo, Thame." His eyes flickered over Thame's face, and his chewing slowed. "Damn, you look exhausted."
Thame took a sip of his coffee like it was his only lifeline. "I am."
Jun stared at him expectantly, waiting for more information. Thame stared back, refusing to elaborate. A full five seconds of silence passed. "Because?" Jun raised an eyebrow.
Thame sighed, shifting in his seat. "I don't even know if I want to tell you."
Jun gasped dramatically, hand over his chest. "Ouch. Why? Did you get laid?" He waggled his eyebrows, leaning forward. "Wait- don't tell me... Was it so good it changed your entire worldview?"
Thame nearly choked on his coffee. "Shut up, no."
Jun smirked, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Then what? Did you accidentally join a cult in your sleep? Realized you're actually in love with me? What is it?"
Thame exhaled sharply, leaning his elbows onto the table. "I... dream."
Jun squinted. "...Yeah? No shit? Wow, Thame. That's such an interesting thing. What is dreaming even? I don't know her." He shook his head, unimpressed. "Get to the point, man."
Thame tapped his fingers against the side of his coffee cup, hesitating. Did he really want to tell Jun this? It sounded ridiculous even to him. But he had to tell someone. Otherwise, he'd explode.
He exhaled slowly. "No, like... I have the same guy in these dreams."
Jun blinked, Thame pushed forward. "For the past week, he was always the main character in them. And I don't know who he is."
There was a beat of silence.
Then, Jun let out a small chuckle. "Is he hot?"
Thame groaned. "Jun."
Jun grinned, unfazed. "I mean, that's an important detail."
Thame hesitated. He wasn't wrong. His lips pressed together. "He's... pretty."
Jun gasped dramatically again. "Ohhh, you hesitated. You like him."
"That's not the point!" Thame snapped, pointing at him. "The problem is that he's always there. And we're always doing something but never really talking. It's like... I don't know, like we're in a relationship but in some weird, quiet, slow-burn kind of way."
Jun hummed thoughtfully. "So, what I'm hearing is... you're dream dating someone."
Thame let his forehead fall onto the table with a dull thud. Jun snickered. "No, really. This is kind of romantic. You should write a book about it. 'I Fell in Love with a Guy in My Dreams and Now I Can't Sleep'. Bestseller material."
"Shut up."
Jun took another bite of his sandwich, chewing as he processed the information. Then, after a moment, he spoke again. "So... when did this start?"
Thame sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. "Since you guys slept there. I had two dreams about him that night."
Jun stopped chewing. A slow, knowing grin spread across his face. "Oh. So what you're saying is..." He leaned forward. "My presence unlocked your dream boyfriend. You're welcome."
Thame grabbed a sugar packet and chucked it at his head. Jun dodged effortlessly, laughing. "I'm serious, though. That's kinda weird."
"I know."
"So, what now?"
Thame slumped back in his chair, sighing. "I don't know. I don't think there's anything I can do."
Jun considered this, then shrugged. "Well, either this is fate, or your brain is just weird. Fifty-fifty chance."
Thame groaned again, and Jun only laughed harder. But as the conversation shifted to something else, something stupid and lighthearted, Thame couldn't shake the unease in his chest. Because no matter how much Jun joked about it, something about this felt real.
"You need new clothes." Jun announced, completely unprompted, as they walked past a row of stores.
Thame blinked. "Do I?"
"Yeah." Jun looped an arm around his shoulder, steering him toward the entrance of a clothing shop. "You're in a fashion rut. Gotta fix that before your dream boyfriend dumps you."
Thame groaned but didn't resist. "You're so annoying."
"I know." Jun grinned, leading him inside.
The store they walked into was filled with racks of shirts, jackets, and pants, the soft hum of pop music playing in the background. Jun immediately started pulling random pieces from hangers, holding them up against Thame.
Thame stood there, unimpressed. "You know, I can pick out my own clothes."
Jun ignored him. "You gotta dress well if your boyfriend's pretty." He held up a dark green sweater. "This, maybe?"
"He's not my boyfriend."
Jun tilted his head. "Okay. So what is he?"
Thame hesitated. "...A dream that won't leave me alone?"
Jun snorted. "That's called a crush, babe."
Thame groaned, grabbing the sweater from Jun's hands just to shut him up. Jun, thoroughly enjoying himself, moved on to another rack. He sifted through the options before suddenly perking up. "Oh. Oh, Thame. I found it."
Thame glanced over. "Found wha-" Oh, hell no.
Jun was holding up a pair of shiny, ridiculously tight booty pants, wiggling his eyebrows. "Do you think he'd like these?"
Thame covered his face. "I hate you."
Jun beamed. "Nah, you love me."
Thame took a deep breath and calmly turned away. "I'm leaving."
"You are not."
Thame was, in fact, not leaving. Jun tossed the shiny pants aside and continued browsing, still on a mission to revamp Thame's wardrobe.
At some point, they found themselves in a grocery store, grabbing drinks and snacks for later. Jun carried the basket, occasionally throwing in the most random items just to see if Thame would notice.
Thame did notice when Jun dropped a can of whipped cream inside. His brows furrowed. "Why do we need whipped cream?"
Jun looked at him with fake confusion. "What do you mean? It's for you and your boyfriend."
Thame nearly choked. "What- what are you talking about?"
Jun sighed dramatically. "For tonight. Obviously. You know... a little fun. I bet it would be hot."
Thame grabbed the whipped cream out of the basket and shoved it back onto the shelf. "I'm never telling you anything ever again."
Jun cackled. "Okay, okay, I'll stop." A beat. "But seriously. What's the deal with this guy?"
Thame sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. He's just... always there. And it's not even weird anymore. It's like... natural?"
Jun nodded, surprisingly serious for once. "You feel like you know him?"
Thame hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. And I don't know why."
Jun studied him for a moment, then smirked. "Well, if he's real, you better hope he likes guys with terrible fashion sense." As a silent reply, Thame threw a pack of instant ramen at his head.
Three hours later, they arrived to the bowling alley Dylan, Nano and Pepper told them to go to. It was buzzing with energy, the sound of pins crashing and upbeat music filling the air. Jun and Thame had arrived a little earlier than the others, so they found themselves sitting by the lane, idly chatting and messing around with the bowling balls. It wasn't long before the other three showed up, each of them greeting Thame with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
"What's up, losers?" Thame greeted with a smirk as they entered.
"You guys better not suck," Nano said with a playful glare, slipping on his shoes and stretching out his arms as if preparing for a serious match.
"Sure, sure. But you'll probably lose first." Dylan fired back with a grin as he grabbed his ball and eyed the lane.
The usual banter carried on, and soon, the group was gathered around, settling into their spots. Jun, however, couldn't resist the opportunity to tease Thame about something that had been eating away at him for days. With a mischievous grin, he nudged Thame's side. "So, how's your dream boyfriend?"
Thame froze mid-motion, the ball half-lifted from his hand. He stared at Jun, already dreading where this conversation was headed. "What the hell are you talking about?" Thame muttered, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably.
Jun grinned wider, oblivious to how uncomfortable Thame was. "You know, your 'dream boyfriend'. The guy you've been obsessed with for the past week. The one who's been starring in your dreams every single night."
The rest of the group paused. At first, they stared at Jun, then at Thame, confused but intrigued.
"Wait, hold up. Thame's got a boyfriend?" Nano asked, her eyes widening with a playful smirk.
"A dream boyfriend? As in... a perfect guy?" Pepper added, leaning forward. "Like, one who's so perfect he might as well be a dream?"
Dylan nodded eagerly. "Yeah? There's a guy who fits you perfectly?"
Thame's face was practically glowing red. "No, no. It's not like that!"
Jun looked at Thame with amusement, then turned back to the group, ready to clarify. "No, no. It's actually worse. He's been having these dreams about a guy who doesn't say anything, but they spend time together." He shot Thame a playful grin, continuing. "It's like, one of those soulmate vibes, y'know?"
Thame gave Jun a look that could kill, but Jun was too far gone now. He'd pulled the string, and there was no stopping it.
Pepper, still holding onto the idea of the 'perfect' boyfriend, raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that sounds nice. But... if you're dreaming about him every night, that's gotta mean something, right?"
Dylan leaned in, adding his own commentary. "Yeah, Thame. If your dream guy's perfect, I think you should ask him out next time you dream about him."
Thame facepalmed. It was crazy how all of his friends just went with whatever Jun fed them. "I am not asking him out. He's just some random guy who keeps showing up."
Nano folded his arms, tapping his foot impatiently. "So, this guy... he's perfect for you?"
Thame groaned. "You guys don't get it. This isn't a real person. He's not perfect. He's just... a guy who keeps appearing in my dreams. And it's honestly getting weird now."
Jun, on the other hand, wasn't about to let up. "Are you sure? Because, dude, you've been talking about him a lot. You're practically in a relationship with him at this point."
"We don't even talk in the dreams!" Thame snapped, exasperated. "It's just us... doing stuff together. Sometimes walking, sometimes just sitting in silence. But we don't talk. And he's not real."
Dylan raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, sounds like you're building up some serious chemistry there. Maybe you should send him a text when you wake up."
Jun doubled over with laughter, his teasing relentless. "Or you could just let him know you're thinking about him. Honestly, I don't know how you haven't started talking to him in your dreams by now."
Thame's face was flushed with embarrassment, and his mind was spinning. Everyone else seemed to think that dream boyfriend meant the ideal partner, someone who just fit Thame perfectly. It was... comforting, in a weird way, to hear them all talk about it like that. But the truth was, it wasn't that simple. He wasn't even sure if the guy was real.
"I'm not even sure if he's real." Thame muttered, though it came out softer than he intended.
Jun, sensing the change in tone, raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Thame shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I don't know. I don't even know who he is. He just keeps showing up, and I... I don't know if I'm losing my mind or if something weird's going on."
There was a brief silence. The group exchanged looks, the teasing momentarily halting.
"Weird." Nano said thoughtfully, breaking the silence. "But I get it. If someone kept showing up in my dreams every night, I'd probably be going crazy, too."
Dylan chuckled. "I dunno, man. Sounds like a rom-com waiting to happen."
Jun didn't miss the flicker of uncertainty in Thame's eyes. He softened his tone, his usual teasing voice quieting down. "Hey, man, don't worry about it. It's just dreams. Maybe he'll stop showing up soon, right?"
But Thame couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something was pulling him in deeper, and he wasn't sure what it was.
Thame felt light-headed as he stumbled out of the bowling alley, the night air cool against his flushed skin. His laughter and the chatter of his friends still echoed in his mind, but it was all muffled by the warmth of the alcohol coursing through his veins. Dylan had been far worse off than him, though, and it was Pepper who took charge, helping to support Dylan's unsteady steps as they made their way to the car.
"You good?" Pepper asked Thame as he half-carried Dylan, the weight of the tipsy blonde causing him to grunt a little.
Thame waved him off, though the world seemed to sway slightly in his vision. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He had a goofy grin on his face, feeling loose, free even. But when Pepper dropped him off at the curb outside his house, reality set back in.
The lights in the house were dim, his parents' bedroom door closed and quiet. He shuffled inside quietly, not wanting to disturb them.
The house felt unnervingly silent as he made his way to the bathroom, still in a haze from the alcohol. Thame barely registered the soft thud of his sneakers hitting the floor as he stripped off his clothes in front of the bathroom mirror. He stood there for a moment, his reflection hazy in the mirror, the alcohol's warmth settling comfortably under his skin.
For a few seconds, Thame simply stared at himself. The dull hum of the house surrounded him, a comforting lull after the chaos of the night. Yet, something about the stillness made his stomach flip uneasily.
He reached for the shower faucet, twisting it to a hot temperature, but the strange feeling wouldn't go away. There was something in the air. Something faint, something he couldn't quite place. A presence.
He stepped into the shower, the water cascading over him in a gentle, soothing stream. The warmth enveloped him, and for a second, he let the sensation take over. He closed his eyes, the water running down his face, his skin. But with each moment, the feeling that he wasn't alone became stronger, nagging at him like a whisper at the edge of his mind.
Thame let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes and turning his head toward the fogged-up bathroom mirror. The reflection was distorted, but for a split second, he thought he saw something, or rather someone, in the glass, standing behind him.
His heart skipped a beat.
Thame blinked rapidly, his hand instinctively reaching out to wipe the mist from the mirror. But when the glass cleared, there was nothing. No shadow. No figure. Just him, standing alone in the steam.
But the unease lingered, even as he continued rinsing the shampoo from his hair, as though something (or someone) was right there, standing just out of sight. He glanced over his shoulder again, his wet skin prickling with the sensation of being watched. Nothing.
Get it together, Thame, he thought, but his thoughts felt hazy and disconnected. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was his overactive imagination. Maybe it was just the quiet of the house.
Still, his heart pounded in his chest as he finished rinsing off, rushing the last steps of his shower. As he stepped out of the warm stream of water, he quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist, his hands trembling slightly. He wiped the steam from the mirror once more, feeling an odd shiver run down his spine.
It's nothing. You're just tired.
The shower had done nothing to clear his head, the fog inside his mind matching the steam clinging to the walls of the bathroom. He stepped into his bedroom, dripping water across the wooden floors, but as he looked at his bed, the weight of the dream-boyfriend thoughts crept back in. He hadn't thought about him for hours, not until now.
Thame dropped his towel, not even bothering to turn on the light as he climbed into bed, the covers cool against his damp skin. He pulled his phone from the nightstand, checking the messages as he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts still swirling in a haze.
Pepper:
Bro, that was a workout. Dragging Dylan inside the apartment was a nightmare. Dude nearly fell asleep on the sidewalk. Lemme know if you need help tomorrow. See ya!
Thame smiled at the text, the image of a barely-conscious Dylan flopping onto the couch making him laugh softly. He scrolled through the rest of his messages, but they all seemed irrelevant now. The only thing that remained was that strange feeling, still there, lingering like a shadow.
He turned his phone off, setting it down on the nightstand, and lay back, his hands behind his head. The room was quiet, but it still felt... off. Like something was just out of place.
Thame squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shake off the discomfort. He tried focusing on the dull hum of his own breathing, but the feeling like someone was there, watching him was still there, creeping along the edges of his consciousness.
It wasn't long before his eyelids grew heavy, the weight of sleep pulling him under, even with the unease still sitting at the back of his mind.
Thame's sleep was deeper that night, the exhaustion of the day settling into his bones. The cool, quiet comfort of his bedroom wrapped around him, but as soon as he closed his eyes, the familiar pull of the dream world took over.
It started like all the others, but this time, the setting was different, more familiar. Thame found himself walking down a narrow street, the soft glow of streetlights casting long shadows along the sidewalk. The cool evening air brushed his skin, and the chirp of crickets filled the silence. The street was quiet, peaceful. There was a small park nearby, with benches that sat under the shade of trees, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze.
The world felt alive, but still, everything was muted, as if he were seeing it through a dreamer's haze. And then, there he was.
He stood in the middle of the park, framed by the arching branches of a tree. His back was slightly turned, as if he were waiting for Thame. The way the light caught his features, his soft, almost ethereal presence made Thame's heart skip. The guy was too perfect to be real, but he was here again.
Thame's feet moved on their own, bringing him closer, the air around him heavier with each step. He felt as though his body knew something his mind didn't. The guy turned his head slightly, those striking eyes catching Thame's in the dim light. He smiled, that smile that always made Thame feel both nervous and drawn in, like he was standing on the edge of something important.
"Hey." Thame murmured, his voice hoarse as if the dream had stolen his breath away.
The guy tilted his head, almost as if surprised to hear the greeting, though his smile never faded. He stepped forward, closing the space between them. There was a softness in his movements, almost delicate, but there was an intensity too, like every step he took carried more weight than the last.
Thame's heart raced, not from fear, but from something else. Something he didn't understand. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd felt so alive in a dream.
"You're here again." Thame said, his voice quieter now, the weight of his thoughts pressing against his chest.
The guy didn't respond immediately, but his gaze softened. He took another step forward, then stood beside Thame, gazing out at the park ahead of them. The quiet was almost overwhelming, but Thame felt comforted by his presence.
They stood together, side by side, not speaking for a while. The only sound was the wind in the trees and the distant hum of city life.
Then, Thame broke the silence, something in him compelling him to finally speak his mind. "I told my friends about you." He said, his voice soft but clear, almost like he was confessing something to himself more than anyone else.
Po turned his head toward him, his eyes catching the dim glow of the streetlights. For a moment, Thame thought he saw a flicker of recognition in those eyes like the pretty stranger understood something deeper than what was being said. But then, the silence stretched out again, only this time, it didn't feel uncomfortable.
"You did?" The guy's voice was low, smooth. It was the first time he spoke, and the sound of his voice settled into Thame's chest like something warm.
Thame nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, though he was still unsure of everything. "Yeah. I-I'm not sure why, but it felt like something I should say. They think I'm crazy. They think I'm imagining you."
The stranger's lips curved into a gentle smile. It wasn't mocking, just understanding. He took another step closer, closing the small distance between them. Thame felt the heat of his presence, but still, there was no sense of urgency. Just a quiet calm.
Thame swallowed, unsure of how to continue. "I don't know who you are... but it feels like I should know you." His heart ached with the words, the raw honesty that spilled out despite the confusion swirling in his chest.
The guy didn't say anything immediately, but he reached out. It was just a light touch, a brush of his fingers against Thame's arm. The contact was so soft, it barely registered, but Thame's body responded all the same, a strange warmth spreading from the point of contact.
His gaze softened further, and he said simply. "Maybe you will."
And just like that, the dream shifted again. The moment stretched, and yet it felt like it could last forever.
Thame's breath hitched, his pulse quickening, but before he could say anything more, the world around them began to fade, the park, the trees, the guy, all of it slowly dissipating into the darkness. Thame's chest tightened, a sense of loss crawling over him.
But then, just before the dream fully unraveled, the guy's voice cut through the silence once more.
"We'll meet again." He said, a soft promise in his tone. And with that, the dream ended.
Thame awoke in his bed, his body tangled in the sheets, a lingering warmth spreading through him. The morning light filtered through the curtains, the early hours of the day slipping in. He blinked several times, as if trying to pull himself fully into the waking world.
It felt so real. But it wasn't real, was it?
His fingers brushed his lips absentmindedly, the memory of the guy's smile still fresh on his mind. The dream was fading, but the emotions remained, like a lingering scent he couldn't escape. The words they had exchanged echoed in his mind.
I told my friends about you.
Why had he said that? What did it mean? And why did it feel like it mattered so much?
He sighed, rubbing his face with both hands, trying to shake off the grogginess. He could still feel the guy's presence, a strange pull at the back of his mind. And for the first time, he wondered if the dreams might be something more than just dreams.
Thame's day passed in a blur of mundane activities. The hours stretched out, but the weight of the night loomed over him, pulling at his thoughts, clouding his mind. All day long, he found himself waiting. Waiting for the night to fall, for sleep to come, for another dream to take him to that strange world with him.
He tried to distract himself with the usual routines. Working out in the morning, the familiar ache in his muscles as he pushed through each set. The sound of his sneakers on the treadmill, the rhythmic thump of his heart, the sweat that stung his eyes. It was almost like he was trying to physically tire himself out, hoping it would help him fall asleep faster.
Afterward, he cooked himself a simple meal, nothing fancy, just something to fill his stomach. The clink of the utensils, the soft sizzle of the pan, and the smell of garlic and vegetables drifted through the air as he moved around the kitchen, but it wasn't enough to keep his mind from wandering back to Po. The dream from the night before lingered in his thoughts, like an unfinished conversation he couldn't quite remember.
His parents were at the dinner table when he joined them. They chatted casually, asking about his day, but their eyes flickered to his tired face more than once. Thame had been staying up late lately, sometimes for no reason at all, and they had noticed.
"You're making yourself exhausted, aren't you?" His mom asked, concern lacing her voice. She tilted her head, eyeing him carefully as if she could see straight through his quiet facade.
Thame swallowed his food slowly, pretending not to hear the way his body betrayed him. "I'm fine." He muttered, pushing his plate away a little. "Just... got a lot on my mind."
His dad glanced up from his own plate, brow furrowed. "Do you want to sleep early tonight? Is that why you're doing so much today?"
Thame's fingers fidgeted around his cup, his gaze briefly flicking to his parents. He almost laughed at how right they were. He was trying to wear himself out, to tire his body enough that his mind would follow. But the truth was, he was waiting for nightfall. He was waiting for sleep to pull him under again.
"Yeah." He said quietly, giving them a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I think I'll try to sleep early tonight." The lie felt like a weight in his chest, but he shrugged it off. They didn't need to know about the strange dreams that were filling his nights, and certainly not about the mysterious guy who kept appearing in them.
After dinner, he cleaned up the kitchen, his movements automatic, but his mind was elsewhere. He moved through the house with mechanical precision. He was wiping down counters, putting dishes in the dishwasher, gathering laundry, folding it neatly. The rhythm of it all, the mundanity, made him feel like he was chasing something intangible, something that wouldn't come until he could stop fighting it.
When everything was clean, he settled onto the couch for a while, reading the book he had started a few days ago. He barely registered the words, his eyes skimming over the pages but his thoughts were elsewhere. That guy. The dreams. His heart pounded at the thought of what might come next.
By the time the clock hit 9:45 PM, he was back in his room. The dim light of his desk lamp cast a soft glow over the room, but the rest of the house was dark. He didn't care. He preferred the quiet of the night. The weight of anticipation hung heavily in the air.
He stripped down to his boxers, tossing his clothes onto the chair in the corner before lying on his bed. His body sank into the mattress, and for a moment, he just lay there, eyes closed, staring at the ceiling as if he could see through it, through the house, to wherever the stranger might be.
He shifted, stretching his limbs out in the starfish position. The cool sheets against his skin felt like a second layer, a boundary between the waking world and the dream world. His breath slowed, his eyes fluttering shut, and as the minutes dragged on, his thoughts finally quieted.
It wasn't the exhaustion that made him fall asleep; it was the simple anticipation of what he would find in the dream. Would he be there? Would they finally speak again?
His pulse quickened slightly, but it wasn't out of fear. It was the growing certainty that tonight would be different. He didn't know how, but he felt it in his bones.
The minutes ticked by, stretching into what felt like hours. Thame's body grew heavy with sleep, his thoughts slowing like the fading echo of a song. He could feel the shift coming, the tug of unconsciousness pulling him toward the place where the guy waited.
But just before sleep claimed him, something strange happened. A flicker, like a spark. A feeling. The room around him felt heavier, the air thicker. He felt a presence, but not one that was close or obvious. It was more like an extension of his own thoughts, an understanding.
Thame opened his eyes for a moment, but the room was still empty. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard, unsure of what he had just sensed.
But then the sleep took hold of him, and everything melted into blackness.
The night air was cool against Thame's skin, the sky clear and dotted with stars that seemed to shimmer just a little brighter in the dream world. The street felt familiar, but at the same time, it was slightly different, as though it had shifted just enough to make it feel like a strange, alternate version of his own reality. The streetlights cast soft pools of light on the pavement, and the sound of their footsteps echoed quietly in the stillness of the night.
Thame and the guy walked side by side, their steps in sync, but the distance between them wasn't just physical. There was an unspoken space that kept them apart, despite the closeness of their movement. Thame found himself glancing at him every so often, his curiosity growing with each silent step. He didn't understand why the stranger was always in his dreams, but in a way, it felt right. Like their paths were meant to cross, again and again, no matter how strange or surreal it seemed.
After a few moments, Thame couldn't hold it in any longer. He had to know.
"What's your name?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if the question held more weight than it should. The words felt strange coming from him, but he needed the answer. It felt like a piece of the puzzle was missing, something he couldn't figure out without this one simple thing.
The guy didn't miss a beat. His eyes flickered over to Thame, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. For a moment, it seemed like he was thinking, like the question had caught him off guard, but then, with a soft and almost teasing smile, he finally answered.
"Po."
The name lingered in the air between them, and Thame felt a strange, almost dizzying sensation wash over him. Po. The name felt as though it had always been meant for him, like it belonged to this figure who had been appearing in his dreams every night. Thame found himself repeating the name silently in his mind, testing the way it sounded.
Po.
It sounded right.
The two of them walked on in comfortable silence, the distance between them closing just a little more with each step. It wasn't an awkward silence. It felt natural, as if they had both always known each other, even without words. But there was something in the air between them now, an unspoken connection, a shared understanding that didn't need to be verbalized.
As they walked down the familiar path to Thame's house, the quiet of the night felt different. The world around them seemed softer, quieter, more intimate. The gate to Thame's house loomed ahead, and the place where he always woke up from his dreams was within reach. He slowed his pace as they approached, unsure of what to do next.
But before he could even reach for the gate, Po spoke, his voice soft but clear in the night air. "Can I go in with you?"
The words were simple, yet they carried a weight Thame hadn't expected. It wasn't a request; it felt more like an invitation, one that Thame wasn't sure how to respond to. The question hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Thame just stared at Po, unsure whether he had heard it correctly.
The smile Po gave him just then made Thame's heart flutter again. It was kind, gentle, but there was something more in it. Something inviting, something that made Thame feel like the man had been waiting for this moment as much as he had.
Thame's breath caught in his throat. The question felt loaded, heavy with meaning, and for the first time, it seemed like Po wasn't just a figment of his imagination. He wasn't just a dream. There was a pull between them, something magnetic that Thame couldn't quite explain, but it felt undeniable.
Thame stood frozen for a moment, staring at Po. His mind raced, but his body stayed still. His thoughts were jumbled. Why was he so drawn to Po? Why did he feel like he wanted this connection, wanted to invite him in? He hadn't even fully processed everything yet, but the desire to say yes, to open the gate and let Po inside, was almost overwhelming.
For a moment, it felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for Thame's answer.
"Yes."
The days after that night felt different, though Thame couldn't quite pinpoint why. There was something unexplainable about the way his mind raced each time he woke up, every time he reached for his phone in the mornings. He had told Po he could come in, and in some strange, inexplicable way, it felt like Po had actually taken him up on the offer. But of course, Thame didn't know how, or why, or even what it all meant. He just knew that after that night, there were changes.
It started slowly, almost imperceptibly. Thame would wake up and walk into his room, only to find that his bed was made, perfectly tucked in the corners, the pillows arranged neatly on top. He never remembered making it, especially not after the late nights spent lying awake thinking about Po, wondering if he was real or just a dream. He'd glance at his phone, a strange thought flashing through his head. I didn't do this, did I?
But it didn't stop there.
Two mornings later, Thame was making coffee in the kitchen, his eyes barely open, trying to wake up after a restless sleep. When he reached for his favorite mug, a quick glance told him something was different. The coffee was already made. His mug, the one with the faded graphic of a cat on it, sat on the counter, filled with his favorite brew (just the way he liked it). He hadn't made coffee the night before, had he? He was sure he'd gone to bed without thinking about it.
A little confused, but still half asleep, Thame went to sit at the kitchen table, rubbing his face. That's when he noticed his phone on the counter, fully charged, the screen flickering as he picked it up. He hadn't charged it the night before, and yet, here it was, at 100%. His laptop, sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter, had also been closed. Thame had been in a hurry the day before, leaving it open with some half-finished project on the screen. But now it was neatly shut, no trace of the work he'd left behind.
"Must've just been distracted." Thame muttered to himself, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had started to settle in his stomach. But he couldn't shake it. There was something off about the way things were now. It's just me being paranoid, he thought, but it didn't help.
Then, two days later, his laundry situation took a bizarre turn.
He'd thrown a white shirt into his laundry basket, convinced it was too stained to be worn again. It had been that way for days, marks from late-night snacks, from the usual wear and tear. But when he pulled it out of the laundry basket, it was pristine. The stains were gone. It looked bleached, perfectly white, as though it had just come from the store. His eyes widened as he stared at it for a moment. There was no way he'd done that.
And then the oddities started to pile up. Every time he left his room messy, when books scattered on the floor, clothes tossed over the chair, papers all over his desk, he would come back hours later to find everything in order. His bed, made. His shoes lined up at the door. His jacket hung neatly on the back of his chair. Thame tried to shrug it off, telling himself maybe he was just forgetful, maybe he had cleaned up in a half-conscious daze. But the feeling persisted. The feeling that he wasn't alone.
One night, he'd left a movie running while he fell asleep on his bed. He remembered the sound of the film playing in the background clearly as he drifted off. When he woke up, it was past midnight, the room quiet. The movie had stopped, the screen black. His laptop was closed once again, the play button paused as if it had been intentionally stopped.
He knew, deep down, that he hadn't done it.
Another night, while preparing for bed, Thame had left his window open. The cool night breeze carried the faint sound of the city outside. When he came back to his room a few hours later, the window was closed, perfectly shut. He hadn't touched it, hadn't even thought about it.
But what made him pause most was the unsettling sensation of being watched. It wasn't a physical presence, nothing he could see. But it was as if someone was there with him, lingering just outside the range of his vision. The hairs on the back of his neck would rise, and a chill would race down his spine, but when he turned, there was never anyone there.
It was especially strong in the evenings, after he'd showered and was lying on his bed, the cool sheets against his skin. He would feel the slightest shift in the air, as if someone was in the room with him just out of sight. Sometimes, he would catch a glimpse of movement in the corner of his eye, but when he looked, nothing was there.
The following week, the strange occurrences grew more frequent, almost routine. He would find things done without explanation. His favorite blanket folded neatly at the foot of his bed, his jacket fluffed and hanging just right, his guitar gently placed back on its stand after it had been left on the floor. The mysterious presence, though unspoken, grew more familiar to him as the days passed.
Each time he lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, he couldn't shake the thought that Po was somehow there with him, present in ways that went beyond the dreams, beyond the unexplainable events. He couldn't see him, but he could feel him. His presence subtle but ever-present. It was as if Po was quietly watching over him, taking care of him in ways Thame never asked for but desperately needed.
It was unsettling, but strangely comforting at the same time.
Two weeks had passed since Po had walked with him on the street, since that night when Thame had invited him into his house, unsure of what it meant. And now, as Thame lay in bed, the silence surrounding him felt more intimate than it ever had before. He didn't know how to explain it, didn't know what was happening. But he couldn't ignore the feeling that Po was there, somewhere just beyond his reach, watching over him in the quiet darkness of the night.
The afternoon had been typical for Thame, a quiet moment between university and the chaos that often came with his friends. His parents were out for the evening, leaving him alone in the house. His phone buzzed, and Dylan's name lit up the screen. "Yo, you down for some games?"
Thame smiled and texted back: "Sure, come over in 20."
He set his phone down and stretched out on the couch, a quiet hum filling the room. Thame had gotten used to this. Being alone in his house. It was peaceful, or it used to be, but now, there was always that strange feeling of someone else's presence. Lately, it wasn't the loneliness that weighed on him, but the feeling that he wasn't truly by himself.
When Dylan arrived, it was a breath of fresh air. The two of them immediately got to work setting up for a night of video games. Dylan plopped down on the couch beside Thame, a grin spread across his face as he tossed him a joystick.
"Game on, man." Dylan said, getting comfortable.
They had been playing for about an hour when Thame, half-focused on the screen, felt it. A subtle shift in the air, a weight settling on the couch beside him. He glanced over, half-expecting to see something (or someone) but all he saw was Dylan, laughing at his screen.
Thame shook his head. Must be imagining it, he thought.
"You good?" Dylan asked, noticing Thame's distracted expression.
"Yeah, just... feel like someone else is here with us." Thame said, his voice low.
Dylan raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "Maybe it's just the weird vibe of your house, man. It's always like that when we hang here." He cracked a grin. "Especially when you get a weird look in your eye like that."
Thame didn't respond. Instead, he focused back on the game, trying to shake the feeling that was creeping over him. He had been feeling it a lot recently. The sense that he wasn't alone, that someone was watching. But who?
The game continued, the laughter and competition between them filling the room. Eventually, Thame paused the game and stretched. "Hey, you need a shower?" He asked. "I've got a towel in my room."
Dylan nodded, eager to refresh himself. "Yeah, I'm pretty gross from class today."
The two of them made their way to Thame's room, and as they entered it, something caught Thame off guard.
On the bed, neatly folded, was a shirt and pair of pants. They were exactly Dylan's size, soft, faded jeans, and a simple black tee.
"Uh, you put these here?" Dylan asked, picking up the clothes. "I didn't know you'd set them out for me."
Thame blinked, glancing at the clothes before back at Dylan. "No, I didn't." He said, voice faltering a bit. He didn't remember leaving them out. In fact, he didn't remember ever placing them there. It was almost like they had just appeared.
"Must've been you, subconsciously." Dylan said with a shrug. "Thanks, man. I'm gonna hop in the shower."
Thame nodded, still unsure what to make of it. He let Dylan leave the room, his eyes lingering on the clothes. It's nothing, Thame told himself. Probably just me being forgetful. But something in the back of his mind kept telling him otherwise. He was still getting used to the idea of Po's presence in his life, and now this... this was adding to his confusion.
A while later, they settled down for the night. Dylan was on the floor with a blanket and a pillow, and Thame lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. The house was silent. The only sound was the soft rustling of the blankets as Dylan turned over.
Thame shifted on his pillow, his eyes closing as he waited for sleep to come. The familiar warmth of the blankets surrounded him, and as his body began to relax, his mind drifted. He couldn't shake the thought of Po. The dreams about him had become more vivid, more real, each time. They'd been spending more and more time together, and every time he woke up, he felt a mix of longing and confusion.
Thame's thoughts were interrupted when the darkness around him deepened. He was drifting, falling into sleep once again. But this time, something felt different. Something more... alive.
He found himself back in the same street, but it wasn't just a random walk this time. He and Po were together, walking side by side. Po's presence was familiar, yet there was something slightly different tonight. Po walked a bit closer, his eyes flickering over to Thame as they strolled down the path. They didn't speak, but the air between them felt charged, full of something unsaid.
As they walked, Thame couldn't help but notice the change in Po's posture. His jaw was set, his eyes a little sharper than usual. He seemed... tense.
Thame glanced at him. "You okay?" He asked quietly, unsure if Po would respond.
Po's lips barely parted as he answered, his voice low and careful. "I don't like him."
Thame blinked, caught off guard by the sudden words. "Who?"
Po's gaze flickered briefly toward the shadows where a vague silhouette stood, then back at Thame. "Dylan."
Thame's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't sure why the words felt so heavy, but they did. The strange weight in the air between him and Po grew. He had never heard Po speak with such intensity before.
"I didn't think it was... anything." Thame replied, unsure of how to respond. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of Po's jealousy, a jealousy that he hadn't even realized was there until now.
Po didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked closer to Thame, and for the first time, Thame could feel his presence in a way that was almost too intimate. Po's hand brushed against his own as they continued walking, but there was no overt physical touch, just the faintest contact, the ghost of a touch that made Thame's heart race.
They walked in silence for a while, the tension hanging between them like a thick fog. The street grew quieter, and Po slowed his pace. He glanced at Thame, his eyes softening just slightly before he spoke again.
"I don't like sharing you."
Thame's breath caught. His heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to say something, anything, but he didn't know what to say. The moment felt suspended in time, and all he could do was walk beside Po, feeling the strange mix of connection and confusion pulling him in different directions.
And then, as they reached the front gate to Thame's house, Po's smile returned. It wasn't as bright as usual, but there was something more intimate about it now, something that made Thame feel vulnerable, but also wanted.
"Can I come in with you?" Po asked again, his voice almost a whisper, like an invitation.
Thame's heart raced. He didn't know what to say, how to explain the chaos of emotions swirling inside him. But he nodded, a single word escaping his lips. "Yeah."
Thame's eyes snapped open. The dream faded away, leaving him in the stillness of his room. His heart was racing, his breathing shallow. Dylan's steady breathing from the floor next to him grounded him back into reality, but the tension from the dream lingered.
For the first time, Thame wasn't sure what to feel.
A few days had passed since Thame's unsettling dream about Po. It seemed like things were settling into some strange rhythm. In his dreams, Po had stopped being jealous, and the two of them had returned to their usual quiet time together. The tension was gone for now, replaced by something gentler. But the lingering questions in Thame's mind kept swirling, never quite leaving him.
This morning, Thame moved through his routine as usual, almost on autopilot. The soft hum of his alarm clock had dragged him out of bed, and now, he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, applying sunscreen to his face with a practiced hand. The scent of the lotion was familiar, a reminder that he was running late and needed to hurry.
He looked at his reflection, the mirror fogged slightly from the shower, steam still hanging in the air. Thame didn't expect anything out of the ordinary. He rarely did. It was just a routine, cleanse, tone, sunscreen, quick glance at the time, and then off to university. Simple.
Except today, something felt different.
As he rubbed the sunscreen into his skin, he caught a flicker of movement in the reflection. His eyes briefly widened in surprise. It was Po.
He stood just behind Thame, his presence subtle, but undeniably there. Thame's breath caught in his chest as he froze, looking at Po's smiling face in the mirror.
Po's smile was kind, warm, and inviting, as it always was in the dreams. There was no doubt in Thame's mind that this wasn't just a figment of his imagination. It was real. He could feel Po's gaze, even if it wasn't directed directly at him. It was as if Po was right there with him, watching him, waiting for something.
For a moment, Thame stood still, unsure of what to do. His heartbeat picked up, his palms sweaty, and that strange sense of someone watching him intensified. He hadn't seen Po in the mirror like this before. The smile was gentle, but something about it made Thame's stomach flip. It felt too real, too intimate. Almost like a dream, but not quite.
"Po..." Thame whispered, his voice barely audible.
But just as quickly as the image had appeared, Po was gone. Thame blinked, staring at his own reflection, now alone in the mirror. There was no trace of Po, no sign that he had been there at all. The bathroom felt eerily quiet now, like the air had shifted.
Thame took a deep breath, his heart still hammering in his chest. It was just a reflection, he told himself, trying to rationalize it. It was just the light, or maybe the exhaustion from the dreams. He looked back at his reflection once more, his face still pale from the shock. But there was no one else there.
Get a grip, Thame, he thought, shaking his head. You're imagining things.
Still, even as he applied the sunscreen with shaky hands, the lingering feeling of Po's presence refused to go away. Something had changed. Something had shifted.
Thame couldn't help but wonder, as he finished his morning routine and rushed out the door, if Po was really just in his dreams. Or was there something more to it? Something real?
And with that, he left the house for university, but the unsettling feeling stayed with him, lingering in the back of his mind.
Thame arrived at university, his mind still buzzing from what happened in the mirror. He was late, and the morning's unease followed him as he entered the campus. His thoughts were jumbled. Was it a hallucination? Was I just exhausted? But they wouldn't leave him alone.
As he walked toward the student lounge, he spotted Jun sitting by a window, his phone in hand. Jun was texting, probably making plans or mocking someone online, knowing him. Thame had been meaning to tell Jun about everything, but he'd hesitated. Maybe he was just trying to figure out what was real. But this morning, with Po's reflection still fresh in his mind, he couldn't keep it in anymore.
He speed-walked over to Jun, not even bothering to announce himself. Before Jun could look up, Thame grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out of his seat, dragging him across the room toward a quieter corner.
"Hey! What the hell, Thame?!" Jun protested, half-laughing and half-annoyed. "What's going on with you? You look like you're about to faint."
Thame wasn't in the mood for Jun's usual teasing, not now, not after what happened this morning. He pulled Jun into the corner with a little more force, glancing around to make sure no one could overhear them. Then, in a low voice, he finally blurted out what had been bothering him.
"I...I saw him again, Jun." Thame's voice was shaky, his hands suddenly feeling too warm in the cool, silent corner. "In the mirror. This morning. He was there. I don't know what the hell is going on."
Jun blinked at him, his face unreadable at first. Then he raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little, intrigued but trying to hide it behind his usual mocking attitude.
"Wait, what? You're talking about your dream boyfriend again, right? The one who's apparently a reflection magician now?" Jun grinned, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but the confusion in Thame's eyes was enough to get him to pause. He stopped texting, put his phone down, and gave Thame his full attention. "Thame, you've got to stop. I'm all for a good ghost story, but it's starting to sound like you're having a mental breakdown, man. You didn't tell me you were still dreaming about him every night." Jun crossed his arms, leaning back against the wall, eyes narrowing. "That's some next-level obsession. I mean, if it's a dream, it's a dream. But... if it's more than that? Dude, I don't know what to tell you."
Thame rubbed his temples, a bit frustrated. "I didn't even know I was still dreaming about him. It wasn't just a dream today, Jun. I saw him in the mirror. It was like he was really there, just behind me, smiling at me like he knew me. I don't know how to explain it, man."
Jun raised his hands in mock surrender, but his smirk faded a little. "Alright, alright. I didn't know it was this serious. You're not one to exaggerate, so... what exactly are you saying? You're telling me you saw the guy in real life? Like, outside your dreams?"
Thame nodded slowly, his voice softer now. "Yeah. It wasn't just a dream this time. I could feel him. I saw him in the mirror. He smiled at me, Jun. Just like how he always does in my dreams."
Jun squinted at him, trying to process this information. "That's... weird as hell, dude. But okay, maybe you're just losing your mind from lack of sleep. You've been working hard and stressing over university stuff, right?"
Thame snorted, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're not taking this seriously. I'm telling you it was real! It was in the mirror. I saw him smiling at me."
Jun scratched his chin, looking thoughtful for a moment. "So... let me get this straight. This guy you've been dreaming about him for a while, and now, he's showing up when you're wide awake? Dude, maybe you've got some connection with this guy. Some spiritual bond or whatever." He chuckled, but it wasn't a teasing laugh this time. There was something else behind it, probably curiosity.
"Spiritual bond? Are you serious?" Thame rolled his eyes, but the unease in his voice was clear. "I don't even know who he is! I don't even know if I'm losing my mind or if this is some kind of weird coincidence. And don't get me started on the fact that he keeps appearing at the house, straight up doing chores."
Jun leaned in a bit, his teasing tone taking a backseat. "Wait. He's at your house? This whole time?" He looked almost impressed, but his brow furrowed in concern. "Bro, you're not... I mean, is this like... Cinderella but in ghost form? Like, he's cleaning your room and doing all that freaky stuff?"
"Don't even start." Thame muttered. "It's exactly what's been happening. I'll wake up, and my room's clean. My bed's made. My shirt's fixed. It's like someone's been in my house. And it's not my parents. They're never there when I come home. And it's like he's trying to take care of me. Like... he's doing all this stuff for me, and I don't even know why."
Jun's face softened a bit as he listened. He could see that Thame wasn't joking. There was a strange weight to his words, a sense of uncertainty that Jun couldn't ignore.
"Dude..." Jun said, his tone shifting to something a little more serious. "I don't know if this is supernatural or if you're just losing it, but you've gotta figure this out. For your sake, man."
Thame nodded, the frustration from earlier easing just a little with Jun's honesty. "I know. I'm trying to figure it out, but it's hard when I feel like I'm losing my mind over this guy. It's not normal, Jun. And you know me. I don't believe in this kind of stuff."
"Yeah, I know." Jun said, standing up and clapping Thame on the back. "But maybe this guy's just... different. Maybe he's not just a dream. Maybe he's meant to be there for you. You never know."
Thame stared at him, both grateful and confused, as Jun gave him one last smirk before walking out of the corner. "Now, I'm not saying you've got a ghost boyfriend or anything. But if you're really into him, I wouldn't mind if he comes over for a coffee. Just, you know, no supernatural drama while I'm around, okay?"
Thame let out a short laugh, feeling a little lighter despite the weight of the situation. "Yeah, yeah. I'll make sure he doesn't haunt you next time. No promises on the coffee, though."
Jun's grin widened as he headed toward the door. "Alright. You just make sure to invite him properly, okay? Ghosts gotta feel wanted, too."
Thame rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at his lips as he followed his friend out of the corner. The teasing, the lightheartedness had helped. It didn't make the whole situation less bizarre, but it made it easier to bear, at least for now.
He had no answers yet, but Thame knew one thing for sure: whatever was going on, he couldn't keep it all to himself forever.