Work Text:
Thame enjoys coming into work.
The bitter yet aromatic smell of coffee beans, the sound the machine makes as it grinds and grinds, the sound of steam coming out from the kettle—he enjoys every single part of it. As he pours the hot water through the grinded beans and filter paper, he takes in the scent of freshly brewed espresso.
“One shot of espresso!” He smiles softly, passing it to Pepper who is working on an order for a latte. He gives Thame a curt nod with the slightest hint of a smile, and then pours steaming, hot milk into the cup, swirling the pitcher around to draw an intricate-looking swan. Nano, who is still in training, watches with awe as Pepper does the latte art perfectly.
They make tea too, with a huge collection of tea leaves and flowers kept neatly in labelled containers. Nano—albeit in training for coffee orders—usually brews it, having the delicacy to craft the perfect tea. It’s always served in a glass teapot, along with porcelain white tea cups. Someone has made an order for chrysanthemum tea, and so on the counter, he proudly presents his work—you can see that the water has turned yellow, the culprit at the bottom of the teapot: the scentiful chrysanthemum flowers.
In the kitchen, there’s Jun and Dylan. They take care of the food orders—Jun with savoury, and Dylan with desserts. The pastry chef doesn’t bake upon order for some desserts (because obviously, you’ll have to wait a long while) but rather in the morning before they open their doors for business. Though sometimes, he’ll be baking souffles, piping icing onto cupcakes and cakes, or making fresh batches if any of their desserts are sold out. From macarons to ice cream, Dylan’s got it.
Jun’s culinary skills are indeed top notch. With many customers coming in everyday to have a bite out of their menu, he’s usually swarmed in the kitchen, and Dylan has to help him out occasionally. He takes an order for a group brunch: eggs & benedict, seafood aglio olio along with truffle fries. Jun throws the fries into the truffle infused oil and gets back to his waffles for an order of speculoos flavoured ice cream scooped onto warm, crispy waffles. Jun adds a dash of vinegar before he pours in the egg, and quickly takes it out to put it in iced water as it cools. The muffin has been toasted on the grill, and so he starts plating. Muffin, smoked salmon, and then the eggs. He gives a satisfied smile, and then starts on the pasta order.
This is what Thame experiences everyday, and he hasn’t even gotten to the beautiful interior design that he came up with when discussing with the team on how he wants the cafe to be. Mostly with a wood interior, it gives off a quaint vibe—which is what Thame aimed for when he came up with the idea to open this cafe. With every step he makes, his boots clack across the polished wooden floor as he delivers orders to customers. You can see that they barely use machines too, strictly using the drip coffee method, and they even manually grind their own beans.
It’s amazing, and even after working here for six years straight, Thame never fails to be amazed every single day. Not only does he love this job of his, but also the customers who patronise the place that have their own different stories to share, always cooing at how Thame has managed to open a successful cafe at such a young age. It’s like receiving hugs after a long day at work, just through words, and Thame loves it.
-
Though one day, he had received a hug for real.
Thame remembers it very clearly, and he has been waiting for that customer to come back again—almond eyes, soft brown hair, sad smile—most of all, pretty. He came in, clearly having cried prior to walking in the cafe, red eyes and all. He had asked Pepper to brew him what he personally felt was comforting, and a hot mocha was presented in front of him, brought over by Nano.
“Thank you,” the stranger said in a soft voice, albeit deep. He then darted his eyes around the cafe and upon noticing that there aren’t any customers who were in need of serving, he shyly asked Thame if they could just talk.
“I’m sorry… But I think I just need someone to talk to,” he explained, looking away as if afraid that Thame would look at him weird and reject the request. The barista was indeed a bit startled, butagreed nonetheless upon seeing the sunken expression on his face and the hint of brokenness in his voice. He slid onto the seat opposite the pretty boy and smiled, assuring him that it’s fine.
“My ex-boyfriend is seeing someone.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, it happened 7 months ago. I shouldn’t be harping on it anymore…”
The barista only stared into his eyes, mildly curious about the stranger’s background story, only to turn away before curiosity got the better of him—Thame didn’t want to pry. He decided to wait for him to continue at his own pace instead, only for him to stand up and apologise, “Oh dear, I shouldn’t really be holding you back while you’re at work.”
Thame didn’t know why, but he wished to sit with him a little longer, and tried to tell him that it’s fine, that he’s the boss here. However, the boy just shook his head and grabbed his bag, clearly trying to leave in a hurry. Thame pursed his lips as he watched the boy scrambling around their table to make sure he hadn't left anything behind, but all thought processes were put to a halt when he felt arms wrapping around his shoulders.
“Thank you though, for listening,” the boy whispered, and then his arms were no longer wrapped around Thame. The barista only blinked, not knowing how to react—not when he’s already out of the door. Dylan whistled teasingly, snapping Thame out of whatever had just happened. He returned back to his station, ignoring the smug faces of his colleagues.
-
In the present, Thame is wiping at the glass windows, hoping to see the stranger walk by. It has been three days since their encounter, and for some reason his heart gets heavier with every day that passes without him coming in again. The crew has been teasing him, saying things like he’s smitten, but Thame just really finds it interesting and wishes to know more about the unknown boy.
Then, he sees him again, walking by his line of vision and then he disappears— there’s a gust of cold wind, indicating someone has entered their cafe, and Thame immediately turns, happy to see that it’s the boy again. This time, he looks better, and doesn’t have red eyes, but rather, they’re twinkling.
“What would you like?” Thame asks, speeding to the counter and beating Pepper to it, who only raises a brow, clearly amused.
“An iced vanilla latte, please.”
“And can I have your name?” Thame asks.
“Um. Po? Po Pawat? You write on cups here?”
And Thame has to hold back his laughter upon seeing the flustered expression on the boy—no, Po’s face, coupled by the clear confusion in his voice. Thame takes a deep breath, swallowing his giggle and offers Po a soft smile instead. “No, we don’t. I just wanted to know your name, Po.”
Po blushes. “Ah.”
Nano cheekily pushes Thame away, and tells Po that it’s on the house just as he’s about to take out his credit card—“But it’s in exchange for a favour though!” Nano winks, and he earns a kick from Thame, but Nano continues nevertheless. “Please save our poor Thame from singlehood.”
Po blushes a deeper red, nodding his head shyly in thanks before rushing to take a seat away from them. Thame gives Nano a death glare as he puts on his apron, but Nano only grins even harder, knowing that Thame is ready to brew the best fucking iced vanilla latte ever just for this Po Pawat. Maybe Thame is interested in both Po’s story and Po—but God knows why he is this intrigued. Unlike the cliches, his heart isn’t pounding or that he feels warm or that as if flowers are blooming across his chest, but he just yearns to sit and listen to Po the whole day, his soft voice penetrating through the loneliness that Thame always carries with him.
Dylan comes out of the kitchen with Jun, and Thame internally screams, because the two heathens together never make a good outcome. In Dylan’s hand is a souffle, and he delivers it to Po, who only looks at him in confusion.
“On behalf of our boss,” the duo winks, and Thame is now blushing when Po immediately fixes his gaze at him, but then Thame hears the most endearing giggle ever—and Po’s smile make its appearance again, eyes forming into crescents, thick lashes fluttering prettily. Thame finds himself being drawn into it, his heart stopping in that very moment. Po seems to have caught him staring, and Thame shakes his head, immediately moving back to the brewing station to hide the redness that’s dusting his cheekbones. Jun and Dylan both give him a sly smile, and Thame wishes nothing more than to just dig his head into a hole in the ground. For some reason, Dylan looks extremely proud of himself as he nods his head at Nano, and this gives Thame the confirmation that Nano is the one who instigated the free souffle idea. He catches Thame’ glare, and he barks out a laugh. ‘That’s for the kick you gave me earlier!”
“I really wonder who is the boss here,” Thame murmurs.
-
“I hope you didn’t find them weird or anything, we’re like family here and so they like to be kind of extra...” Thame sheepishly says, as he clears Po’s table.
“They’re very extra,” Po jokes, and Thame chuckles, agreeing as he thinks about the other four crew members and their shenanigans. They share a moment here, both of them being open with each other. Thame likes to think it’s rather intimate, the way they are exchanging laughter—because his heart is now full and he’s feeling a weird mushiness in his chest.
However, he remembers why Po made a striking first impression and Thame makes it a point to respect his space, not wanting to pressurise him in any way. He feels slightly bad for his growing feelings, and stops laughing— though he ends it with a goofy-looking grin on his end, not wanting Po to feel as if something’s wrong.
“Actually—”
“Actually—”
They look at each other, mildly surprised. Thame gestures for Po to continue first, and he chuckles again, amused by the situation. He then looks at Thame with genuine appreciation, albeit there’s a hint of sadness in it. He then thanks him, “I hope I didn’t startle you that day, it must have been really sudden.”
Po is scratching at his neck, the atmosphere slowly turning awkward. Thame doesn’t really know how to respond—he can’t possibly tell Po he wishes to bash the bastard in the head for breaking his heart, not when he doesn’t know what exactly happened between them and definitely not when he doesn’t want Po to be weirded out by him. Thame bites at his lips, contemplating for a moment on what to say—he was just about to ask Po if he’s feeling better actually.
He goes for it anyway.
“Oh. Yes. It isn’t worth getting upset over some trash who cheated on me,” Po shrugs, but Thame can still see the glint of sadness in his eyes. His trust must have been betrayed so badly, heart shattered into smithereens. It makes Thame seethe with anger, certain that he wants to bash said bastard in the head now. He keeps his anger hidden, and squeezes Po’s shoulder in response.
Po looks up at him, only to see Thame smiling at him, giving him an odd sense of comfort. He relishes the contact, taking in the warmth emitting from Thame’s touch. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, but he doesn’t dare to pinpoint exactly what it is that he’s feeling. He only smiles in response—genuinely this time—and puts his hand on Thame’s; a silent assurance that he is fine.
“Well, I shouldn’t hold you back from your duties, rush hour is soon,” Po says, and pats Thame’s hand once more before gently removing it so he can reach for his bag.
Thame feels slightly disappointed, and maybe a little self-conscious over his actions, but his worries all melt away when he feels Po’s arms around his waist again. He startles a bit though, moving the dishes he’s holding out of the way so it doesn’t stain Po’s clothes (his priorities, seriously, he could have broken those) and uses his free hand to return the hug.
“You’re always so warm, I like that,” Po says, nuzzling his face into the crook of Thame’s neck before letting go. He smiles again, dimples showing, and then waves goodbye before he turns to leave. Thame only stands there dumbfoundedly as he watches Po exit the cafe, a thousand thoughts running through his mind about Po’s comment. Pepper is suddenly smacking his head, and he lets out a yelp before turning around to catch the culprit.
“We have five orders of coffee, lover boy. There’s only so much that Nano and I can cope with,” Pepper groans, elbowing Thame on his side. Thame pretends to ignore the part where Pepper called him lover boy, but the blush that creeps up on his face is already reacting to it, and he runs back to the counter, quickling placing the dishes in the sink. He gets back to work, ready to serve the dinner crowd, but he can’t stop thinking about a certain Po and his warm hugs.
-
Po returns to his apartment, throwing himself on the couch to lie haphazardly on it.
It’s ridiculous, he’s only met the barista—Thame (according to the friendly guy who gave him a free drink in an attempt to play matchmaker) twice, and he may be catching feelings already. It’s not like he’s completely over Earn, and the breakup put way too many barriers around his heart. Po is too afraid to label it as ‘love at first sight’, because he doesn’t know if he just thinks Thame is a great comforter or partner.
He thinks about his presence though, and he craves it every single time—but he doesn’t want to end up using Thame as a rebound—because Thame is sweet, gentle, and kind, and he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that. He throws a hand over his eyes and groans in frustration, not wanting to think anymore, but he can’t when there’s a thumping at his chest and his mind only knowing how to wander to a certain barista with gorgeous eyes, warm touch and his soft-spoken self.
Thame doesn’t go away from his mind though, and he sighs, having no choice but to embrace the thought—there’s no point telling himself to stop thinking of a pink elephant.
-
He’s back at the cafe again, after a week.
His eyes are immediately scanning around the area to look for Thame, but the barista isn’t at the counter or cleaning tabletops. Pepper looks up from the brewing station, and immediately recognises Po, greeting him excitedly, waving his hands frantically.
“Hello Po!”
Po smiles shyly in response, eyes not wandering around anymore. He contemplates asking Pepper about Thame, but it seems that his mind has already been read, because Pepper tells him that Thame has called in sick for the day. Nano suddenly inserts himself into the conversation, passing Po a packet of herbs.
“Since you’re here… Can you do us a favour and pass a few things to Thame? He’s like a kid that doesn’t know how to take care of himself but unfortunately, we’re all swarmed with work here,” Nano pouts, hoping to be able to get through to Po.
“Oh, erm sure,” Po says, accepting the packet in his hand, “Where are the other few things?”
Pepper gestures for Po to follow him, and he finds himself being led into the kitchen. Jun and Dylan pause in the middle of their work to look up at their unannounced guest, but when they realise it’s Po, they immediately stop what they’re doing, greeting him enthusiastically. “Hey! Thame is sick today and we cooked up some food for him, along with some desserts. Do you mind taking it to him? He gets cranky when he’s hungry, but even more cranky if his sweet tooth cravings aren’t satisfied.”
Nano then bursts into the kitchen too, and starts rambling on and on about how stubborn a sick Thame can get, then preceding to pile Po with information overload about Thame while Dylan is humming in the background as he lays out the container of prepared food on the counter before putting it neatly in a paper bag. Po only laughs, amused by Thame’s quirks and he can’t help but be endeared by the fact that the barista has an awful sweet tooth (according to the dessert chef’s complaints).
“You know where Thame’s apartment is?” Dylan asks as soon as he’s done packing everything nicely. Po shakes his head, and the chef quickly grabs an order receipt to scribble down an address, putting it in the paper bag before passing it to Po, who stutters awkwardly in response—suddenly nervous at the prospect of visiting Thame at his own private space. Overwhelmed is an understatement to describe how he is feeling now, but he’s terribly anxious about having to go to Thame’s apartment to bring him food. A veil of self-consciousness is thrown upon him and he wants to just bolt.
He stares at the brown paper back that’s been shoved into his hands, and sighs upon seeing the grins that are being aimed at his direction. He smiles awkwardly, and gives a slight bow as he makes his way out of the kitchen. As soon as he steps out of the cafe, he stares into the bag and sighs, unsure of how he should be reacting when he reaches Thame’s apartment. He punches in the address into his GPS, and he walks ahead, steps unsure yet there’s a little bounce to it.
Po may feel his heart just opening up to trust a teeny little bit.
-
Thame groans into his pillow as the doorbell sounds incessantly, reluctant to open the door for whoever it is. He stops whining when he hears a familiar voice calling out for him—“Thame? Are you home? Your colleagues prepared food for you!”—and Thame immediately jumps up straight from bed.
It’s honestly ridiculous how he’s already so whipped for Po.
He already has Po’s voice imprinted in his mind, but not only that; he has also memorised how Po’s warmth is like—something that melts your aching bones, your sadness and your inhibitions - and the pretty dips in his cheeks when he smiles like he’s the goddamn sun personified and how his eyes are always glistening and how he’s just so gorgeous.
Thame finds his thoughts starting to ramble away again—but really, whenever Po smiles and laughs till his eyes disappear, he hopes for many more days where he’ll see the sunshine on Po’s face; which brings Thame’s attention back to the boy standing right in front of his doorstep, who is darting his eyes around nervously, as if afraid of looking at Thame in the eye.
He didn’t really have the chance to look into the mirror before opening the door, but Thame is well aware that he’s sick and it’s given that he definitely does not look like the most welcoming host on earth right now. Imagine running a forty degree celsius fever and having to be drenched in your own sweat but yet you’re feeling so cold. God, Thame looks like he’s about to murder.
“Um. I didn’t mean to disturb your rest but your colleagues back at the cafe insisted I....” Po says, voice barely louder than a whisper. There’s a tint of red on his cheeks, and Thame can’t help but smile through his aching cheeks— infected sinuses be damned, a shy Po is too cute. He looks down to see a paper bag that reads “MARS CAFE” and his smile grows wider, knowing just exactly what has the boys prepared for him.
(Po is really what they prepared, the rest is just a bonus.)
Po notices the grin on Thame’ face, and he immediately reaches his hand out to pass the bag to Thame, feeling even more shy with the way Thame is beaming at him. Thame, in all of his 178cm glory with a good build and equally charming bed hair—he’s wearing a set of pyjamas with sharks printed all over it.
God help Po because he’s about to faint from the cuteness, and he isn’t sure if he’s the one with the fever, his brain short-circuiting ever since Thame has opened the door for him.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Thame asks, raising his eyebrow at the fact that Po’s hand has been in the air despite Thame already having taken the bag from him. Po looks at him, flustered, and then realises what Thame has just asked and replies, “Oh, um. I’m just here to pass you this though and you should be resting and—”
Po ends up rambling nervously, and Thame interrupts him by taking Po’s hand in his, telling him it’s fine, “It’s really okay, I’d love to have some company too, if you don’t mind.”
Thame smiles warmly at him, placing a hand on Po’s back as he gently guides him into his apartment, pointing to him where he can take off his shoes. Po curses himself (and the crew) because here is Thame with his impossibly perfect bed hair and sleepy face—and Po desperately wants to reach out, wants to run his hand through the sleep tousled hair. Po realises he’s staring when Thame calls for him to help heat up the food, and he scrambles from his position, immediately running to the kitchen to assist Thame.
“Do you like muffins?” Thame asks the moment Po enters the kitchen, and just when he was about to reply, Po notices the mess in the sink, trying his best to hide the horrified expression on his face while nodding to Thame’s question. Unfortunately, Thame has caught his disgust, looking at him sheepishly as he scratches his head in embarrassment, not knowing where to look.
“Well, I’m usually rushing for time... and um now that I’m sick it’s just…” He rambles, not wanting Po to be turned off, but he only chuckles and Thame nearly passes out from the relief, afraid that he might have scared off Po.
Then when Po finally speaks, Thame swears he must have passed out and is dreaming right now.
“You’re so cute, you know,” Po quips, tone casual as if not realising the implications of his words. “You don’t have to worry, Thame. I can just do them for you. I like cleaning up.” And Po chuckles softly, dimples showing, as if he’s really assuring Thame that it’s all right. Thame’s heartbeat is erratic, and his cheeks are flushing—he tells himself it’s the fever, but he takes another look at Po and he knows that he can’t deny it anymore; his heart dances to the every movement of one Po Pawat. He wishes he can argue with Po that he is the cute one but he’s simply too stunned to say anything.
Oh, be still his heart.
-
“I wonder how’s it going,” Nano chuckles as he wipes a mug, and Jun barks a ‘20 says that they realise they’re both lovesick fools at the end of today’.
“Add 10 bucks for me as well,” Dylan quips, snickering.
Pepper shakes his head, “You guys are honestly demons.”
“Hey, we’ll be cupid if they do get together, have you seen the way they behave around each other? And you took part in it!” Nano laments, not liking Pepper’s accusation. He only looks away, pretending the conversation didn’t happen but a smile creeps up onto his face—like the others, he’s hoping for the best between his boss and Po.
-
There’s a bowl of risotto and tomato soup on the dining table, accompanied by some muffins and strawberry cake. The paper bag is placed at the corner, Jun’s note stuck on the side of it—Sorry we couldn’t make you porridge and stew, just take whatever we have lol. Love u tho.
Thame takes a look at it before tittering, and he sits down, smiling at the dishes before him and the heart of his crew members.
“I’d introduce you to my dogs, but they’re currently staying with some friends because I’m in no state to handle them while I’m trying to recuperate,” Thame sighs, and Po’s eyes widen—“No way. I didn’t strike you for a dog person.”
Thame laughs at this, and then points to the wall behind Po, where a picture of Thame hiking with his two dogs is hung up, “They can be a handful, but they make really great hiking partners and companions.”
“Mm. Maybe we can hike together someday,” Po says, but then he realises what just came out of his mouth and he immediately shuts it, a sheepish look cast over his face. Thame’s face is equally as red too, but Po shrugs it off as his fever and concern immediately overwhelms him, putting his hand on Thame’s forehead, to only gasp in shock, “Jesus. You’re really hot.”
It just gets warmer. Thame is really sweating now. It’s his fever, he swears. Not Po.
“I know,” he mumbles, sighing. He tries to drag his arm up to cover the redness on his face, but it’s like his brain is unable to communicate with his own body anymore. His vision is blurring, but he cannot help the goofy grin on his face—Po is worried, Po is going to take care of him, he will have more time with Po, and—
Then his vision turns to black, the last thing he can hear is Po flying into a panic.
-
Po is frantic, not knowing what to do. Thame is slumped against his chair, barely conscious at all. He shoots up from his seat, and immediately lifts Thame up, helping him to his bedroom. He’s shy thinking about it, all the scenarios that can possibly happen like how it does in cliche films and television, but he tries his best to shrug it off as he hauls Thame onto his bed. His body is burning up, and Po shuffles around the house bewilderedly as he tries to find a sponge and a Po to fill it up with cold water. He grabs some Tylenol on his way too, albeit clumsily because he is holding way too many things and he’s just trying to get to Thame’ side faster.
“C-cold…” Thame whines as Po starts to sponge him, cooling down his body a little bit.
“You’re burning up, Thame. I’m so sorry, but please endure this,” Po apologises, and continues to dab his head with cold water. He moves down to Thame’s neck, and he starts blushing, “Um… I need you to remove your shirt.”
Thame tries his best to sit up, but it seems that he has lost all of his strength in his body. He only manages to put on a dazed smile, pleading with Po. “I think you need to help me with that,” Thame says, voice feeble.
Po can only sputter, flabbergasted by the sudden request. It’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, and he understands that Thame is the patient here, but for Po, who has growing feelings that he isn’t sure about yet—he doesn’t know if this will be good for his heart. But he sees the sweat trickling down Thame’ face and the way he looks so deathly pale, and Po realises he’s really left with no choice, and sighs.
Po carefully peels the fabric of his shirt off him, wanting to make sure Thame doesn’t have to move around too much—he isn’t confident that he’s able to bear Thame’ weight. Now that the shirt is finally out of the way, Po moves in closer to sponge his torso, and he tries his best not to marvel at Thame’ chiselled abs, looking away as he dabs Thame' body with the sponge. By the time he’s done, Po’s face is as red as Thame, and he doesn’t know if he’s sick, or if he’s this close to screaming out of embarrassment from having to care for a half-naked Thame.
Po decides that he is going to scream at the cafe team.
-
Thame’s fever is finally down, and Po lets himself fall back onto the couch, deciding that he is allowed to make himself home after all that exhaustion from taking care of an overgrown, sick and whiny man child.
The blush on his cheeks has faded, but there’s still a tinge of pink as he thinks back of sponging Thame’ well-built body, and he wonders what kind of sport or workout does Thame do to have such a marvelous body—
Po slaps himself, before he starts to spiral into his attraction for Thame. He doesn’t know what has gotten into him, but ever since that day where he first met Thame staring at him wide-eyed in his black apron, he definitely did feel some sort of inclination towards the barista—maybe it’s just the warmth that he radiates, or maybe that Thame has a friendly disposition, but he did feel a pull so undeniably strong and it’s still the same up till now. He thinks about Earn, and the smile on his face turns into a frown almost immediately; he doesn’t know if he can trust again, or if he’s ready.
With a heavy heart, Po writes him a post-it note.
Take care.
-
Thame has been wiping at the glass for the seventh time that day, and it has only been two hours since opening—it’s been a week since he has gone back to work but he has heard nothing from Po, and neither did the boy come back for his usual order of iced vanilla latte.
“Someone is pining,” Dylan singsongs, and Thame stuffs the cleaning rag into his mouth, “Shut up, Dylan. For the love of god, please shut up.”
Nano smacks Dylan on the head, “Pay up! Plus, stop making Thame even more miserable.” The two continue bickering, “What bet? You didn’t even place down anything and you were rooting for them too! You’re not taking my money!”
A troubled Thame rubs his temples as he tries to drown out the commotion behind him, then groans in frustration, pulling at his hair as he tries to remember what exactly went wrong—nevermind the devil pair, everything that went down has already happened—but nothing comes to mind, his memory mostly a foggy haze through his delirious fever. He’s about to yell when Pepper brings him a cup of matcha to him, and smiles, “What’s on your mind?”
Oh, sweet Pepper. The only one with common sense left along with Jun.
Thame sighs, and he feels his heart weighing even more heavily in his chest, “I’ve been ghosted.” To this, Pepper chuckles, and Thame groans, retracting whatever he thought about Pepper—but he takes a moment to listen, and he realises that it isn’t a laugh to mock, but rather one that comes after having an insight.
“We’ve all been there,” Pepper quips, “But I don’t think it’s your fault. We don’t have any control on how the other party is going to react. It’s up to him to decide. Besides, maybe he’s scared?”
He remembers the day Po first came in, eyes red and body shaking from his sobs. Ah. Thame starts banging his head against the table, feeling ashamed for forgetting that Po is still probably trying to recover from the hurt he received in his past relationship.
“Give it a few more days, or even weeks. I don’t think he’ll be the kind to leave someone hanging like that—this one, I’ll put a bet on it,” Pepper smiles once again, and then giggles when Thame groans about how his subordinates just like to bully him and capitalise on his non-existent love life.
-
Po has always noticed that he really does still feel anxious whenever he has any remote sense that someone might be pulling away from him. He always takes every sign of distance as the possibility of abandonment, which points to some core belief that he is unworthy and will always be alone.
Maybe he doesn’t so much mind being alone by pushing other people away as compared to him being alone just because of who he is. He doesn’t want Thame to see his ugliness, to witness his insecurities and he is now entrapped in a paradox of distancing himself from people in fear of them being distant.
He doesn’t want Thame to be near him and realise no wonder you were cheated on.
This discomfort still weighs down heavily on his head and heart, a small worry germinating into something more distracted and afraid. He wishes that he can not put too much trust in his intuition: because he always picks up on the slightest shifts in energy or atmosphere and assumes or (mis)interprets them as hints that he should fuck off, retreat, disappear, disintegrate… die.
It’s because he knows there’s something about Thame that makes him feel and that’s why he’s avoiding the matter at hand—his heart beats so fast and sometimes he even shakes, just like how too much caffeine can do to the body. He really, really, really likes Thame but he shoots it down as ridiculous, dangerous, and terrifying.
Not to mention that he thinks he has already fucked up by ghosting him.
He has been restless for the past six hours, stuffing himself with social media trivialities to dodge confronting the silence and himself, because he has been feeling a heavy rise in his chest, like a dam starting to crack, and as frustrating as the buzz in his head is to deal with, he knows that if it ceases and he is left alone, everything he has been shrugging off for the past few weeks will come not in trickles but in downpours.
One of those nights in which he sees the sun set and rise in a single breath.
He lies in a mess of pillows and hinges caterpillaring across his throat, and consumes the superfluous when he doesn’t actually care. The house is still again; he closes his eyes and feels the sheets against his skin but it’s his thoughts that blanket. Tonight, his only pulse has been to feel.
He so much so dreams of pairing apples with green tea and clinking his glass with Thame’s clumsily. He is so ever soft, shy and smiling in his ever-reaching palm and peck. He wishes he’s in bed with Thame, a peeking toes-out blanket kind of evening.
Maybe he should at least try to do something about it, try if that’s possible.
-
Thame stares up at the ceiling, head full of thoughts, and he takes in the sinking feeling against the soft cushion of his bed. How does he be boldly honest? With the fact that he is very open to loving and caring about people (read: his cafe colleagues, and Po). He likes to think he’s okay with being alone and single, but he is also very much inclined towards having someone to mutually look out for and to grow with. Po has his heart thawed, placing an affection and care that’s thickening inside of him, and he wishes this tenderisation process felt pure and good always, but admittedly it scares him too, sometimes—especially so when he wakes up feeling very delicate, fragile, soft, small, childlike. It's incomprehensible that caring about people is such a core part of his identity but yet he is unaccustomed to this deepening, flourishing feeling he feels in his stomach whenever he looks into Po’s eyes.
When he has his heart out, he gets to cradle it in warm and safe arms and have it tended to with gentleness and nurturance, but he always feels that he may trip at any given moment. His heart could drop, splatter, fall onto the ground, be crushed under feet, and then shriek under the relentlessness of drizzle and storm. And these days he finds that he is quite afraid because he is a hopeless romantic, even if he has never dated for the past few years, after his previous breakup. It’s not outright that he is afraid of commitment, but when he has to seriously consider the prospects of a relationship, it grips him tightly and he can’t help that he likes to think, even when he knows his glasses may be tinted rose pink.
Maybe love is too strong a word for now, albeit he feels that when it comes to Po, there is definitely this care that he has for him, and its roots are slowly solidifying, digging deeper into soil, planting itself firmer and stronger— and that’s beautiful, but also scary. Thame is admittedly feeling quite scared recently. Maybe just for the past few days. Maybe just for now. Maybe it’ll ease. Despite this, he still just wants to care and be safe, but simultaneously; is it not possible to have both? Can he care and trust himself in his caring, and in being cared for?
He too has been feeling all sorts of things: sadness, anger, hollowness, frustration, empowerment, wonder, intrigue—and this frenzied want to soar and abandon and dissociate. He wants to do things with reckless abandon because he is so uncomfortable doing absolutely nothing, but yet it doesn’t sit right with him either. He cannot possibly be selfish by withdrawing after engaging because of his own fears, but there is no textbook way of acting out in a way to what he’s feeling, instead of what his body thinks will keep him protected and help him survive.
Thame decides that he doesn’t want to hole himself in, close himself up, stitch himself falsely— no, he wants to be sincere, and to feel what he wants to feel. There’s nothing wrong about that; it’s scary, but not wrong. It’s scary, but he is human after all.
He is and wants to be human. Whatever will be, will be. Just be true, just be sincere, just be real. He rolls to the side of his bed and swings his leg over, finally getting up. He decides to head down to the cafe today and for the days ahead until Po decides to come back. It’s ridiculous how he does not have his phone number and he curses it,
but que sera sera.
-
“No signs of him huh,” Jun observes, as Thame stares out of the window forlornly, still waiting, still hoping, still anticipating. He is listening to the rain and the sound of the cool breeze blowing from the air conditioning and the air itself moving around him, and staring at the moonlight bouncing off trees bouncing off walls bouncing off shadows and coming through the windows into his seat. In the entire experience of this still, solitary moment, he is sitting here. He wants to give this a go. Four hours of waiting and plus the two hours after closing have flown by, but it is also somehow sluggish.
Human time is so strange. It’s both slow and happening and irrevocable.
“I think a lot has happened in the past month,” Thame mumbles, his mouth pressed against the fabric of the sleeve of his hoodie, “I’ve felt a lot and been awake a lot and in slumber dreamt a lot and each day I’ve been going through so much emotionally and been running on all sorts of tangents in my own head—it surprises me that going to bed I always feel like a different person from when i woke up; but yet I think he must be going through worse.”
To this, Jun nods, offering a rare sight of empathy—he doesn’t have words to say, but his full attention is on Thame, indicating that he is listening to him seriously. No one knows if Po will appear today, or tomorrow, or never again.
But he is here on his off day, telling himself he’ll wait for a month. For a month he will be at the cafe every day even if he’s not supposed to be working, just to wait for Po. The rest of the crew are still shocked that Thame came by, panting after having been sprinting to the shop at full speed, and Nano had to swear he didn’t set fire to the shop or that Dylan didn’t punch a rude customer.
Nevertheless, they all try to make him feel better when they found out he has decided to wait for Po: Pepper and Dylan brings him his favourite hojicha latte, along with some pastries, Nano gives him his personal set of tea leaves to bring home and brew, Jun cooks up truffle fries for him to snack on, and Pepper checks up on him from time to time when the cafe is quiet, offering a listening ear and some advice.
“I think you should head home, Thame. We closed two hours ago. He will come back at a more reasonable timing I believe,” Dylan says, an assuring smile on his face as he pats Thame on the back. Thame wonders if he looks that miserable, that even Dylan is being gentle with him.
Thame nods, and then sighs, downing the final sip of his hojicha latte.
-
He’s about to take his apartment keys out of his pocket when the elevator door opens to reveal a panting Po. Thame’s eyes widen immediately, not expecting the boy to be waiting for him outside his apartment.
“I was waiting for you at—“
“The cafe.”
“Your apartment.”
Then the two of them stare at each other, speechlessness settling in as they realise their foolishness for waiting at the wrong place, but yet there’s this undeniable eagerness the two of them have that is so pure, and they just start laughing out loud. It reminds them of the second time they’ve met, when they clashed with each other’s speech too. There’s something magical about that moment that sends so much warmth to Thame’s body, and he prays that Po feels it too. His melodic laughter is absolutely intoxicating and Thame wants more, needs more, for him to remain this happy for as long as they can live.
Maybe love is a strong word. But maybe he can handle it now.
Thame takes the lead, “I… want to care for you. It hits me the hardest whenever I see you shrinking yourself down, shrivelling up, becoming crippled, feeling helpless. I’m familiar with sitting with people through their anger and frustration, but seeing you go mute or cold or frozen or limp is a form of pain that shocks me to my core the most that it’s painful, and I always want to cry, and just want to reach over and hug and hold. I care for you—heck, I think… I think I love you.”
“Thame…”
“And it’s okay, I know how you feel. My growth and easing more into my own skin and needs and boundaries and learning to take less shit from others comes with a shadow effect, too, though: I think i’m still scared that in spite of all of this self-development, I’ll still go through the same torturous suicidality again as I did last time when I fell out of love,” Thame takes a deep breath, overwhelmed by how he’s tearing his heart out for Po to see, and then continues, “Even after all the time that has passed, vulnerability still feels scary, if not, even scarier to me now, in some ways. I think we all don’t want to ever have to experience something so deeply cutting ever again. It scares me— scares us, probably, knowing the amount of pain that exists and that we might feel again, even after having very much felt. “
“—but I suppose the key is to build enough strength to know we will be able to get through whatever, when it comes again, and through that regulate our emotions better,” Po finishes Thame’s sentence for him, and they’re staring at each other now, glassy eyed and with their hearts in their hand, vulnerability so raw that it aches throughout their entire being and it feels like there is a fire burning inside their chest.
“Want to head in? I think we’ll have more privacy. And Nano gave me some tea leaves—from his collection of personal favourites. We can talk more.”
To that, Po nods.
-
This time, Po is greeted by Thame’ dogs, and even when Thame has talked about them to him before, it doesn’t help curb any of the shock he felt when he gets tackled by the both of them, eagerly taking in his scent and licking at his face.
To this, Thame smiles, “The white one is Est,” and then he smiles fondly at the brown colour Po only nods, and then giggles when William starts licking his ankles. Unable to resist the tickles, he falls to the ground and all of the dogs start licking him and then rub their snouts against him.
“They really like you,” Thame remarks, a soft smile on his face—the sight is simply too endearing. It’s very rare for both of his dogs to accept someone new on first sight, and he chuckles softly when he remembers Pepper being extremely terrified of William because the latter wouldn’t quit growling, but here is William trying to cuddle Po along with Est. He lets the dogs continue showering Po with love, shaking his head with a goofy grin on his face as he heads to the kitchen to brew tea for the both of them. He feels a bit giddy, he doesn’t know Po is that ticklish and he also cannot even begin how happy he is that his dogs trust Po this much. He prays that this is a good sign as he waits for the kettle to be ready, and then when he hears the whirr of the steam forcing its way out of the kettle’s nozzle, he calls out to Po if he can help bring two cups to the kitchen counter.
But instead of a handle he is supposed to be grabbing, he feels the warmth of Po’s hand, and suddenly fingers are sliding in between the spaces of his very own. His face is red, and it reminds him of cherries—sweet. And the next thing Thame knows is that he is leaning in for a kiss, his heart thumping heavily in his chest as his lips connect with Po’s.
Po’s lips are as soft as pillows, and it melds against Thame’s perfectly, and it is so warm, so sweet, so tender. It’s as if they are jigsaw puzzle pieces that fit with each other, meant for each other, meant to be together. Never in their life they would have expected to experience a moment of clarity like this. The space around them is so intimate, so special, so exclusive. All their doubts dissipate into the air as they tighten their hold of each other, never having felt this right before. This, to them, is so raw and authentic and so… safe.
They pull back, and it just feels like a dream altogether. It’s as if they weren’t just lying down in their bed the past few days having a moment of hesitation after introspecting on why they love someone with outpouring emotion for so long that they worry their ability to do so may have expired.
But now, they have finally realised that they still can love in unfelt breezes and rifting winds, and that they still get giddy with sudden gratitude and fullness in bouts.
-
They sit together on Thame’s balcony, legs hanging out from the spaces in between the grills, swinging freely in the air. The moon is shining brilliantly, and there is a still—not an uncomfortable silence, but a silence where there isn’t a need to talk just to set the mood.
“Can you love?” Po asks, and his voice is so soft that Thame barely manages to pick up what he said, but he understands the trepidation that one can have when diving into the issues of intimacy, and he bares his heart too, “Intimacy still scares me sometimes.”
“Me too.”
“It’s like, I can hug my friends. I can playfully flirt with Jun. I’m completely comfortable having a sleepover with the rest of the crew, falling asleep next to them, on them, with them. But romantically… sexually?”
“It still feels difficult at times.”
Thame nods, and Po continues, “I don’t know if I have the capacity to love.”
To this, Thame frowns, feeling his heart sink a little, but he feels Po staring at him and the same warmth around his hand again, assuring him tenderly, gingerly, ever so lovingly.
“But still, I love the idea of love. And I feel like with you, maybe, just maybe, I can save a space for you in my heart. I used to think that I absolutely didn’t have the capacity to do so, but I can say with more confidence that I want to try now. It feels safe and comfortable and right with you, because I believe. I believe you’re the right person.”
Thame smiles, and then sips his now lukewarm tea, before sighing; not of despair, but he feels content. There’s honestly no other place he’d rather be now. Their whole encounter had already felt like a daze; and now the fact that they’re together still feels like a dream. As they continue basking in the warmth of their togetherness and company, the evening sky seems farther and wider. They thumb their red string and contemplate the temple. They’re walking with the wind.
For things to be fated, and for them to feel contentment. Together they will learn how to grow out of their own shell.
Epilogue
“Finally you’re going on a trip with someone that is not one of us,” Jun rolls his eyes, passing him the food he has prepared for Thame. Nano places two to-go cups on the counter— one hojicha latte, and one hot mocha. Dylan smiles as he passes him a box of croissants and eclairs, while Pepper wishes him all the best and to have fun. Thame chuckles and makes an exit, but not before Pepper adds in a “You owe me $20 by the way! From the bet!”
Thame pretends not to hear.
“Don’t set the place on fire while I’m gone the next few days!” and he gleefully smirks at Nano before leaving. The trainee barista gawks at him, and points a middle finger through the glass panes, knowing that his boss will see.
-
Thame puts on the leash for his dogs while Po grabs their hiking equipment from their camper van. They do a final check, and set out. Thame entrusted the smaller dog to Po, but the latter is inexperienced and he gets pulled around by its excitement and Thame laughs, completely endeared by the sight.
“Stop laughing!” Po groans, trying to regain control, but is barely able to do so. He gasps, exasperated, “How on earth do you handle this alone with the two of them?!”
Thame smirks, and flexes his biceps, “I have arm power.”
Po rolls his eyes, and then yelps again when William suddenly charges forward, excited by the squirrel he just spotted.
“This is going to be one long hike.”
To this, Thame laughs, “You’re the one who said you wanted to do this one day. I heard you loud and clear even if I was a little delirious from the high fever that day.”
“That reminds me, I should probably thank the devilish crew members of yours,” Po chuckles.
Thame uses one hand to grab all of the leashes he is holding on to, and then links his free arm with Po’s, “And I must thank you for coming into the cafe that day.”
They stare into each other’s eyes, and the words are unspoken but still exchanged—I love you.
Later that night as they share the same bed, Po traces the curves of Thame’s body. The sheets are scrunched around them with Thame almost hogging a good 60% of it, but Po smiles anyway as he wishes Thame a good night. Po’s eyes are starting to close, and he presses a kiss to Thame’s nose.
Sweet as vanilla syrup.
He’s finally lasted this long, feeling stable, happy, brave, hopeful, excited,
together with Thame.