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Pete crosses his arms and lets out a frustrated sigh, glancing down at the drink he abandoned on the table—the ice in it melted long ago, turning the red liquid into a delicate light pink. His attention drifts back to the dance floor, where lights flicker in bursts of blue, green, and purple, casting a surreal glow over the pulsing crowd.
"You should go talk to him," Sandee’s voice barely cuts through the heavy bass of the club music, and even then, it’s strained and thin, easily drowned out by the thudding beat.
Pete shrugs, his eyes glued to Kao. "I don’t think he wants to talk with me. And he looks like he’s having the time of his life," he mutters nonchalantly, though there’s a tension in his voice he can’t hide. His gaze lingers on Kao’s lean figure, moving effortlessly to the beat, lost in the sway of bodies around him. Kao hasn’t left the dance floor once since they arrived; he’s fully immersed, as if every beat has him more entranced.
The colored lights flash across Kao’s face, while the smoke from the machine swirls around him, adding an almost dream-like quality to the scene. But Pete doesn’t need a clear view to know every detail: Kao’s on his third shot by now, his shirt is half unbuttoned, exposing his chest and his collarbone. His body is pressed close to a guy—a tall, broad-shouldered stranger who hasn’t left his side for over an hour.
"If this is bothering you so much, just talk to him," Sandee insists, glancing at Pete with a confused look. But Pete doesn’t meet her gaze, mumbling, "You know we’re just friends." He says it so softly that he’s not even sure she hears, though he can feel the weight of his own words.
Sandee knows everything. She figured it out long before Pete realized that the tight, uncomfortable feeling in his chest every time he spends time with Kao wasn't annoyance, but attraction—something Pete had never felt for another guy before. Truthfully, he hadn’t even felt it this intensely for any girl, either, not that it matters. What matters is that it's Kao, and now that Pete understands what he feels, it seems painfully obvious.
For weeks, he wrestled with himself, denying it, ignoring it, even acting like a complete jerk to Kao, thinking it would make the feelings go away. But it hadn’t. If anything, they only grew stronger, leaving Pete more frustrated and confused than ever.
On the dance floor, Kao laughs again, tossing his head back, nearly stumbling, but the guy he’s with catches him around the waist effortlessly, keeping him steady. They giggle together as Kao wraps his arms around the guy’s neck, pulling him closer as they sway together, bodies pressed against each other.
Pete bites the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to look away. He clenches his fists, his frustration bubbling over, and Sandee seems to sense it. She rolls her eyes with an exaggerated sigh, frowning as she reaches out, grabbing his arm. "Come with me," she says, tugging him toward the dance floor before he can protest.
She leads him through the crowded room, pushing past dancers until they’re just a few feet away from Kao. Sandee positions herself behind Kao, nearly back-to-back, blending into the throng of bodies. "Talk to him!" she says, pointing him with her thumb.
Pete bites the inside of his cheek, forcing himself to look away. He clenches his fists, his frustration bubbling over, and Sandee seems to sense it. She rolls her eyes with an exaggerated sigh, frowning as she reaches out, grabbing his arm. "Come with me," she says, tugging him toward the dance floor before he can protest.
She leads him through the crowded room, pushing past dancers until they’re just a few feet away from Kao. Sandee positions herself behind Kao, nearly back-to-back, blending into the throng of bodies. "Talk to him!" she says, pointing him with her thumb.
Kao doesn’t even notice them, focused completely on the man in front of him. Pete watches from behind Sandee, his gaze intense as he takes in every movement.
Kao’s partner is no ordinary “guy.” He’s well-built, likely in his late twenties, towering over Kao by a solid head. His shoulders are broad, his hands, on Kao’s hips, look huge.
I could take him down... maybe, Pete thinks, though he knows it’s a lie. His fingers twitch slightly, the urge to intervene overwhelming him as he watches.
He sees the guy lean close to Kao, whispering something in his ear, and Kao nods, breaking off their embrace. They make their way over to a high-top table near the dance floor, where a tray of colorful shots awaits. The man hands one to Kao, who downs it without a second thought, then takes another shot himself.
Pete feels his chest tighten as he watches the guy glance around, pulling out a small silver tin. What the hell? His stomach drops as he sees the man carefully pour a small white packet onto the table, separating it into lines with a credit card. He watches, horrified, as the guy hands Kao what looks like a rolled-up bill.
“No way…” Pete murmurs, a rush of anger and fear hitting him all at once. Without another thought, he begins pushing his way toward them, every nerve on edge.
But a sudden shout from Sandee stops him in his tracks. He whirls around to see her, standing right where he left her, pushing against a guy easily twice her size. "Don’t you dare touch me, you fucking pervert!" she yells, her voice fierce.
The guy barely flinches under her push, grinning as he leans closer, his hand wandering inappropriately down to her waist. Pete sees red.
Before he even realizes what he’s doing, Pete’s fist collides with the guy’s jaw with a force he didn’t know he had, every ounce of his frustration fueling the punch. The guy stumbles backward, crashing to the floor, as the music stops for a few moments and the noise attracts some curious looks. It takes two of his friends to haul him to his feet, dragging him away as he mutters curses under his breath.
For a moment, Pete feels a surge of satisfaction, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. But then, he remembers Kao. He spins around, his eyes darting to the table—only to find it empty. The two of them are gone, vanished into the crowd, leaving behind nothing but a few empty glasses and a sinking feeling in Pete’s stomach.
⋆˖ ࣪✮⋆.˚✧˖*
Kao huddles into himself, the fresh air biting at his flushed cheeks, still warm and bright pink from all the drinks he downed. He’s shivering from the sudden shock of leaving the club’s suffocating heat for the mild chill of the night.
His shirt is damp, clinging uncomfortably to his skin where the last shot spilled during a clumsy move from the guy beside him.
“Sorry, Tao,” the guy says, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin.
“It’s Kao,” Kao corrects him, though he doesn’t feel offended. In truth, he isn’t even certain of the man’s name either. He thinks it’s Sun, but he’s too tipsy and light-headed to be sure, and he knows it won’t matter in a few hours anyway. They’ll go their separate ways, strangers once again.
The evening was fun. Kao can’t remember the last time he laughed that much or when he had a conversation that felt so… free.
Sun shared stories about growing up in that very city—how he left everything behind the moment he graduated college, determined to escape. He talked about the freedom he found after finally leaving, how he traveled for months until he stumbled upon a place he could call home, where he built his life from scratch. He spoke about finally being able to live authentically, away from the weight of family expectations and the constant fear of disappointing people he loved.
There was a refreshing openness in his words, one that made Kao feel at ease, like he'd found someone who truly understood.
Maybe it was the drunkenness or the way Sun’s stories resonated with him, but Kao agreed without hesitation when Sun said, “I’ve got a spare shirt in my car. Let’s go.”
And now Kao is in the pub parking area, watching idly Sun while he clicks the key fob, and the car’s lights flash, breaking the darkness of the that place. He gestures for Kao to get in, and Kao does, slipping into the passenger seat. Sun pops open the hood, grabs something, and follows him.
“You must be freezing. Let me get the heat on,” Sun murmurs, flipping a switch. Warm air begins to fill the car, slowly easing the chill and wrapping them both in a cozy, pleasant warmth.
Kao gives a sleepy smile, his eyes half-lidded, heavy with alcohol. He lets his head rest against the seat, feeling a strange sense of comfort. Away from the relentless pace of college, from his friend group where he often feels like an outsider—especially with Pete, who’s never missed a chance to tease or even take a swing at him. But here, in this quiet space with Sun, he feels safe, unburdened, like he can be himself without pretense.
Kao notices Sun’s pupils are large, clearly dilated, a sign the stuff Sun took earlier has taken full effect. He offered some to Kao, but Kao politely declined, and he didn't insist.
Sun didn't make him pressured, he didn't even hinted at pushing boundaries. And even if Kao knows perfectly that it's the bare minimum, that behavior makes him feel even more comfortable, almost respected— so different from what he's used to.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” Sun says with a warm chuckle, his dimpled smile barely visible in the dim car lights. “This will probably be big on you, but at least it’s dry.” He hands over a neatly folded white shirt, smelling freshly washed, its clean scent soothing somehow.
Kao accepts it, nodding a little awkwardly in gratitude. He tries to unbutton the last few buttons on his shirt, but his fingers won’t cooperate.
“Here, let me,” Sun says softly, reaching over with a small, amused smile. His fingers work on the buttons, even struggling a bit himself, but finally, he manages to slide the shirt off Kao’s shoulders. Sun's fingertips against his chest make his skin burn and Kao’s heartbeat quickens as he looks at him from so close, their faces inches apart.
The warmth of Sun’s breath tickles his cheeks as his eyes twinkling even in the low light. What are you waiting for? Just dot it. But Sun looks at him and waits.
Kao feels his own face lean closer. Just one kiss, he thinks, his mind dulled by all those shots and the comfort of the moment. What’s the harm? His lips brush against Sun’s, soft and tentative, a gentle meeting of warmth in the cold night air. Sun slides an arm around Kao's back and pulls him closer as Kao rests his hand on that man's shoulder.
The kiss lingers, delicate and warm, until—
A loud bang startles both, followed by a strong grip on Kao’s arm. He barely registers the shock before he’s being yanked back, the chill of the night hitting his bare chest, bringing him back to his senses.
“What the hell are you doing?” Pete’s voice cuts through the fog in Kao’s mind, harsh and biting while his hand is squeezing Kao’s arm hard enough to hurt. His eyes blazing as they bore into Kao’s.
The warmth of the car feels miles away now, replaced by the brutal wind tearing at Kao’s skin. The world spins as his mind can't keep up with what is happening, the only clue is the anger in Pete’s face.
“Pete?” he stammers, struggling to pull his thoughts together as Pete glares at him, his jaw clenched so tight Kao swears he can hear his teeth grinding.
“Didn't you have enough fun? Do you want more?” Pete growls, his grip firm but wavering just slightly. Behind Kao, Sun is frozen in shock, the confusion evident in his wide-eyed stare.
Kao tries to find words, anything to explain, but his head feels heavy, his chest cold from the night air, the hazy memories of the evening blending into each other. And all he can do is stand there, his body halfway between Sun’s warm car and the unyielding hold of Pete’s hand, caught between the comfort of the moment he’d just left and the searing intensity of Pete’s presence.
⋆˖ ࣪✮⋆.˚✧˖*
Pete feels like he made a huge mistake, but there’s no taking it back now. His stomach was knotted with dread while he scoured the bar bathrooms, peeked into quieter rooms, and finally searched the parking lot, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. The dread transformed into a cold, gut-wrenching shock when he spotted two shadowed figures in a sleek, low-slung sports car. Even in the dim lighting, he recognized Kao's thin shoulders and narrow neck, the softness of his features unmistakable even in profile. He was half-naked, as he leaned in toward the man, their lips meeting as every raw fear Pete had, spiraled into a furious, impulsive reaction.
For the second time that night, Pete acted without thinking; he barely registered the moment he’d thrown open the car door, his hands on Kao, his voice sharp, the tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Now, Kao stands in front of him, arms wrapped tightly around his bare chest while he looks at him with watery eyes, his lips wet with someone else's saliva and his face tinged with a slight glaze from whatever he’d taken or drunk that night.
Pete’s eyes trace him from head to toe, from his tousled hair to his unstable posture, unable to hide his disgust and disappointment. His heart pounds hard against his chest and his mouth itches, wanting to shout at him all the things he want to say but he can't. And this inability to express what he’s truly thinking makes his anger burn hotter.
"Damn you, Kao" he mutters under his breath, struggling to contain his emotions. He yanks off his hoodie and tosses it to Kao, who fumbles to catch it, still looking dazed.
“Let’s go.” Pete says through clenched teeth, and Kao nods, looking like a scolded puppy, his expression tinged with confusion and shame. Without a word, he pulls on the hoodie and closes the car door quietly. He doesn't spare a glace at the man inside, the one who he was kissing just moments earlier.
Pete takes Kao’s hand, holding it firmly—telling himself it’s to keep him steady as they make their way back to his car. Kao’s hand is cold, his grip uncertain, and Pete suppresses a surge of unwanted warmth deep in his chest, a small part of him relishing Kao’s fingers intertwined with his.
They walk in silence, each step heavy with unspoken tension, until they reach Pete’s car parked near the entrance of the club. He opens the door for Kao, who steps in without protest, giving him a quick, barely-there look before settling into his seat.
Once inside, Pete circles the car to the driver’s side, slides in, and closes the door. Kao has turned his back to him, leaning his head against the window, staring out into the dark.
Pete’s grip tightens on the steering wheel as he glances at him, who looks so small in the oversized hoodie that practically swallows him.
The contrast between the quiet inside the car and the thumping bass and laughter echoing from the club outside only amplifies the heavy silence between them.
Pete closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, summoning whatever patience he can muster.
Before he can even think of what to say, Kao breaks the silence, his voice barely a whisper,
“How could you do something like that?” Kao asks, his voice quiet yet cutting.
Pete’s eyes snap open, shock tightening his throat. He can’t believe what he’s hearing. His anger flares again, raw and biting, the images of Kao and the man kissing in that car vividly in his mind.
“Me? Are you serious right now?” He’s about to retort when Kao speaks again, “You barged in like—like you own me or something. You humiliated me, Pete.”
Pete’s mouth opens, closes, then opens again. “Humiliated you?” he repeats, the incredulousness climbing fast. “I pulled you out of a car with a guy who had coke in his system and his hands all over you. You were drunk, Kao. You weren’t thinking straight!”
“You weren’t thinking straight!” Kao snaps back, his voice suddenly sharp. “You were just angry. You saw me with someone else and lost your mind!”
“Of course I was angry!” Pete shouts before he can stop himself. “You were kissing him. You were about to go God knows where with him! What was I supposed to do? Smile and wave?”
“You were supposed to trust me!” Kao yells, and the words hit Pete like a punch.
Trust.
Pete turns his face away, staring hard out the windshield. His throat burns with words he doesn’t know how to say. I do trust you. I just don’t trust anyone else with you. But that’s not the kind of thing you say out loud—not when you’re not even sure what you are to each other.
Kao exhales shakily, then presses his head against the cold glass. “You always treat me like I’m your enemy,” he says quietly. “Or your responsibility. Never like someone you actually care about.”
Pete’s heart clenches, but he keeps his face stone-still. “That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it?” Kao’s voice is calm now. Sad. “You can’t keep doing this, Pete. Pushing me away and then yanking me back whenever someone else comes close. It’s not fair.”
Pete finally looks at him. “I didn’t mean to…” he trails off, the words crumbling under the weight of everything he’s feeling.
Kao glances at him then, eyes glassy but unwavering. “Then say it, Pete. Say what you do mean.”
And just like that, Pete is cornered—by the truth he’s been running from, by the mess he’s made, by the boy sitting next to him in an oversized hoodie that doesn’t belong to him, who somehow still does.
The words tremble at the edge of his lips, and this time, he doesn’t stop them.
“I didn’t pull you out of that car because I wanted to protect you, Kao. I pulled you out because I couldn’t stand to watch you kiss someone else.”
“You should’ve minded your business!” Kao retorted
He laughs—dry, bitter.
“You are my business.”
Kao turns sharply, his glare sharp enough to cut.
“I’m not yours, Pete.”
“You are,” Pete growls, looking at him fully now, eyes blazing.
“You have been since the first time you made fun of my stupid haircut and laughed like I wasn’t the most miserable guy on earth that day.”
Kao looks away, swallowing hard, his reflection faint in the window.
“I know I’m a dick,” Pete mutters, voice dropping.
“I know I say shit I don’t mean and get jealous before I even figure out why. I know I act like an asshole and then pretend like nothing happened. I know that, okay?”
Kao stays silent.
“But when I saw you in that car, leaning into him, looking like you could actually be happy with someone who isn’t me…” Pete’s voice breaks for the first time, soft and rough all at once,
“...I lost it. I couldn't stand it. I can’t.”
Kao finally looks at him, and Pete hates how much he still wants to reach across the space between them and hold his face, kiss the regret off his lips.
But he doesn’t. He just stares.
“I don’t know how to love you the right way,” Pete says.
“But I do. I love you. I’m a mess, Kao. I’ll probably fuck it up again. And again. I’ll say something stupid, hurt you, storm off. I’ll grab your arm too hard. I’ll say things I don’t mean and feel like shit after.
But I’ll always come back.”
Kao stares at him, mouth trembling, lips pressed in a line.
Pete leans back in his seat, voice almost a whisper now.
“Because you’re it for me. You’re my home.”
The silence is thick.
Then Kao says, voice low, tight,
“And what if I need space?”
“I’ll hate it,” Pete says honestly.
“I’ll sulk, I’ll mope, I’ll probably punch another guy—stupidly. But I’ll wait. I’ll sleep in the hallway if I have to.”
Kao lets out a shaky breath, shaking his head, exasperated, but there’s no venom in it. Just tired affection.
“You’re such a fucking idiot.”
Pete grins, crooked and shameless.
“Yeah, but I’m your idiot.”
Kao doesn’t smile—not really. But he opens the car door when they get home. He lets Pete trail behind him silently through the apartment.
He doesn’t say a word when Pete sits on the couch, shoulders heavy with guilt, but he doesn’t close his bedroom door either.
⋆˖ ࣪✮⋆.˚✧˖*
A few hours pass. Maybe more.
And then, as the first light of dawn creeps in, Kao steps out of his room with a blanket in his arms.
He finds Pete curled up, hoodie tight around him, eyes red-rimmed but still awake.
Without a word, Kao drops the blanket over him and lies down beside him, shoulder to shoulder, not touching.
Pete doesn’t move.
They lie in the silence for a long while, both of them blinking up at the ceiling.
“I hate you sometimes,” Kao finally whispers.
Pete closes his eyes.
“I know.”
Kao turns his head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze.
“But I’ll always let you in.”
Pete’s breath catches, and something deep in his chest settles.
“I don’t deserve that.”
“No,” Kao says softly,
“You don’t. But I still do.”
And Pete, for the first time that night, lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he’s worth loving—even as he keeps trying to figure out how.