Archive of Our Own ^beta

Faifa grimaced as Gun tried to order himself yet another beer, his voice already squeaky and pitched a little too high from the last two he’d downed in record time. He was pretty sure he’d never seen Gun get past a fourth before, dissolving into a blubbering drunk mess with nemory loss before it even fully hit his system.

Bang On, their usual choice of bar for a couple of years now was as lively as ever. The bass-heavy thrum of techno rattled in the background, the lights dim enough to hide bad decisions but bright enough to show off questionable dance moves. Students from their and nearby universities filled most of the tables, laughing too loud, flirting too badly, and drinking like midterms were over. Thoughtless, carefree.

It was as though the entire bar had conspired to ignore Faifa’s internal panic as he watched his friend finally flag a waiter for his next drink. Gun’s eyebrows were pinched together in a sulky knot, his lids drooping like they were weighted, face flushed pink like a steamed shrimp. Faifa groaned. Yotha was going to kill him.

Then bring him back to life just to kick his ass. And then kill him again for good measure.

Not that Faifa wasn’t confident he could take his brother in a fight. He totally could. On a good day. If Yotha wasn’t feeling one hundred percent. But why risk it? Keeping Gun company wasn't worth his own life. As it was, he was running out of time to escape fast. The unnecessarily efficient waiter had another beer planted in front of Gun and it was making its way to his lips already.

"Slow down," Faifa muttered, desperation seeping into his voice as he grabbed a hold of Gun's arm to restrain him. His friend shot him a glare over the rim of his drink, cheeks puffed out and lips pouted, before shrugging Faifa off and tipping the beer back in one go. Faifa could only watch in silent horror as his throat bobbed with every swallow until the last drop was gone, the bastard following it up with a satisfied and exaggerated “aaah” that belonged in a bloody beverage commercial.

It was Faifa that was gonna end up bloody at this rate. God, he missed Wine.

Usually his boyfriend would be here, along with their large friend group, juniors and seniors alike on very big days. But it was the middle of the week, Wine was out of town and Kong wouldn't pick up his calls. So Faifa was left alone to try and handle Gun and whatever situation this was. Until Yotha got there, that is. The singular reply Faifa got from his brother earlier burned his hand from where he held his phone on the table.

Don't let him drink.

“Gun, stop drinking,” Faifa ordered, reaching across the table to pin both of Gun’s palms flat against the sticky surface before he could call the waiter again. He was rewarded with another glare, with all the intimidation power of a puppy trying to bark for the first time. Faifa just stared back flatly when he hiccuped.

"Stop now or my death will be on your hands."

Gun frowned so hard his eyebrows nearly touched. "What are you talking about, Fai?"

His voice was slurred enough to sound like they’d been here for hours, not the measly twenty minutes since they’d walked in. Faifa mentally did the math. It had been ten minutes since they'd exchanged texts, so Yotha would be here in… another ten minutes, give or take. If he drove over like a man possessed. Which Faifa was willing to bet a million baht he would.

He tried to reason with his tipsy friend meanwhile. "When Yotha gets here, you'll be his problem and I-"

"You called Yotha?!"

The screech nearly blew out Faifa’s eardrums, even over the music. Gun shot upright like someone had shocked him, immediately swaying so hard Faifa had to steady him and push him back down by the shoulders.

"I told-" Gun broke off mid whine as he hiccuped. "I told you not to do that!"

Faifa sighed. The deep, soul-weary sigh of a man who’d clearly been cast as babysitter in this friendship. “You did. And I didn’t listen.”

"Fai, you bastard!"

When Gun had called him earlier, asking him to meet at the bar, Faifa knew something was off. Gun couldn’t hide his emotions to save his life, subtlety wasn’t exactly his brand, and his voice had carried that distinctive brand of misery that told Faifa it was gonna be a long night. But with Wine away on a field trip with classmates, Faifa had been feeling more than a little lonely himself. So he’d agreed. Which he immediately regretted the second he walked into Bang On and spotted Gun sitting alone at their usual table.

Gun was never alone.

Faifa couldn't remember the last time he'd even seen his friend by himself. Gun was practically joined at the hip to this grumpy looking guy he knew, who was always dressed in dark clothing and constantly scowling at Faifa. The guy was born ten months before him, but Faifa rarely called him Phi. Just sometimes a “bro”, if he was in a generous mood.

But not only was Gun without his shadow, he was drinking. Angry drinking. Or maybe depressed drinking, Faifa wasn't sure. And the reason? Apparently, the very same shadow that acted like Gun was the only good thing in the world and practically worshiped the ground he walked on.

The moment Faifa had floated the idea of inviting Yotha, Gun had growled at him and threatened to delete him from all social media. So Faifa had done what any great friend would: sat down, ordered himself a drink, and hoped to cajole some juicy dirt out of the moper to tease his brother about later.

Except Gun hadn't said much about anything at all in the last twenty minutes. Just continuously muttered incoherent things under his breath as angry tears threatened to spill from his abnormally large eyes. Faifa had been on the verge of prying when Gun knocked back his first beer in under ten seconds, and that was when the warning bells went off.

Flashbacks of a night a few months ago, in this very bar, flickered through his mind. Yotha returning from the bathroom to find Gun drunkenly cooing at some random, perplexed junior during a small get-together. It had been harmless on Gun's part, obviously. But still that had nearly ended with property damage and three people holding Yotha back.

Only this time it wasn’t a poor, unsuspecting underclassman but just Faifa around with Gun getting drunk (it took so very little to get him there too). And Faifa didn't have three other people here to hold back Yotha from his wrath either. So when, two minutes into this trainwreck, Faifa had received a text from Yotha asking if he knew where Gun was, he didn’t hesitate. Swiftly. Under the table. Two Words.

Bang On.

It was a matter of self preservation really. So no, he was not even a little sorry when Gun called him names and shook his tiny, pale fist at him.

“I had to call him, Ears,” Faifa said now, trying to soften the blow with the nickname. "You know how my brother gets."

"You like me more so you should side with me," Gun grumbled like a little kid.

"I definitely like you more," Faifa agreed without missing a beat, rubbing his temples as the headache crept in, "but I’m kind of obligated."

A hiccup. A scowl. "Traitor."

"And besides…" he went on like Gun hadn’t spoken, "I don’t even know what happened, so how can I side with you?"

"You should automatically do it."

"Wine told me to stop doing things that way."

Gun’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Then widened as something clicked. "Where is Nong Wine?"

Faifa scoffed. "You've only now realized he's not here?"

"Oh right, the trip!" Gun harped, answering his own question, his anger momentarily forgotten. So Faifa ran with it, anything to distract his friend from the alcohol. He quickly let out a dramatic sigh and clasped Gun’s hand in both of his.

"What should I do, Ears?" he whined, turning the pout up to eleven. "I miss him so much!"

"When did he leave again?"

"This morning."

"Oh." 

Gun let a small smile slip after getting over the shock, shaking his head. Then, with surprising gentleness, he patted Faifa’s shoulder with his free hand.

"I'm sure Nong misses you too," he murmured in support. Faifa nodded slowly, bottom lip quivering slightly as he sniffled, the facade giving away to real sulk.

"He said he did when I called him before."

Gun grinned, puppy ears up. "See? Told ya."

Faifa couldn't help smiling too. Gun's bright mood was infectious. 

"Thanks, Beagle."

Faifa mentally slapped himself as Gun's smile vanished. That choice endearment had been a mistake. Faifa watched helplessly as his friend's puppy ears drooped. He didn't like Gun being sad so Faifa decided he needed to get to the bottom of things. Then he'd also know what to scold Yotha about when his brother got here.

"What happened, Gun?" he asked, expression serious now as he gave his friend's hand a light squeeze. 

A pause. "Yotha's an idiot."

Faifa snorted. "Tell me something I don't know."

But Faifa’s teasing faltered when he caught the shimmer of tears at the corners of Gun’s eyes.

"My mom is coming up to Bangkok this weekend,” he mumbled, eyes on his lap. “I wanted to introduce her to Yotha’s parents. You and Phi Newton too.”

Faifa nodded, not really sure why any of this was a problem. He was pretty confident his parents would love to meet Gun's mother. Especially his own mom, who practically considered Gun as her fourth son and was constantly talking about how proud Gun's mother must have been, raising such a sweet boy. How she wanted to thank the woman herself.

Gun sniffled. "Yotha doesn't want our mothers to meet."

That caught Faifa off guard. "What? Why?"

Gun pulled out of Faifa's hold to rub at his eyes, a frustrated sound leaving his throat. "He thinks my mae will be disappointed… if she learns about your family history."

Faifa hesitated.

It made… sense from Yotha's perspective. Faifa was yet to meet Gun's parents but he'd heard enough to know that they were where his friend got his sunshine personality from. Gun’s family was whole, warm, uncomplicated. The kind of family Faifa and his brothers didn't have most of their lives. And though Yotha had long since forgiven their mother, his face hardened whenever someone brought up their childhood. 

Tense shoulders, blank looks, forced smiles. It was one thing to forgive, but something else entirely to forget. To have it all possibly air out in front of his boyfriend's mother, someone Faifa knew Yotha loved dearly, was probably something his brother wanted to prevent. Or at least hold off for as long as possible.

“We argued all evening,” Gun continued, his voice quiet and flat now, sounding completely sober all of a sudden. “I already told my mae, and she sounded so excited. What do I tell her if he keeps saying no?”

Faifa had no easy answer. So he explained his brother's perspective instead. “He’s just scared, Gun. He doesn’t want to disappoint her.”

“I told him mae would understand,” Gun whispered. “Why doesn’t he trust my word?”

Faifa only reached over and patted his friend's head. That was all it took. One tear spilled over and rolled down Gun’s flushed cheek. It made Faifa's heart ache. But at least he wouldn't have to worry about his brother hurting him now. Yotha would be too busy beating himself up over making Gun cry. His tears were Yotha's undoing.

"Beagle!"

The low, familiar voice rang out through the bar. The two of them turned towards the entrance of Bang On, where Yotha stood, brows furrowed and chest heaving. He crossed the distance quickly, ignoring the other dozen heads of onlookers watching, eyes fixed on his boyfriend.

"Yotha…" Gun whispered as another fat tear ran down his cheek. Yotha dropped onto the stool beside Gun and quickly wrapped him in his arms, crushing Gun to his chest without another word. Faifa leaned back in his seat, a wry smile on his face.

“People are staring, guys.”

Faifa said it with the dry impatience of someone who knew full well he was wasting his breath. Neither of them so much as twitched in acknowledgement. Gun had his face tucked into the crook of Yotha’s neck, sniffling into his boyfriend's shirt, while Yotha held onto him like he'd die otherwise. But Faifa understood the pained look on Yotha's face all too well.

It always hurt more when your partner was the one crying.

“Beagle, I’m sorry,” Yotha murmured, voice low and ragged. “Please stop crying.”

Gun responded to his pleading by crying harder, hot tears soaking the fabric of Yotha’s shirt.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, teerak," Yotha whispered, jaw tense. "Please forgive me.”

Gun pulled back abruptly, cheeks blotchy and flushed, lashes clumped with tears. Yotha reached up to wipe his cheeks, but Gun slapped the hands away with a sharp little smack, hiccupping again as he tried to calm himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Yeah, bro,” Faifa harped in immediately, leaning on the table with brows raised. “Tell him why.”

The look Yotha shot him could have frozen molten lava. The kind that said he'd deal with Faifa later. But when he turned back to Gun, it softened into a pathetic puppy-dog expression so fast Faifa almost laughed. Whipped, thy name was Yotha.

"I…" Yotha hesitated, eyes shaking, voice wavering. "I'm sorry about everything. I shouldn't have said no like that. I should've listened to you. I shouldn't have made you cry. I should’ve-”

Gun clamped a hand over Yotha’s mouth, the rest of his rambling coming out muffled. He waited for Yotha to stop talking before taking a big, steady breath himself.

“Yotha, don’t you want to marry me?” Gun asked.

Faifa’s did a double take, wondering if he’d just heard wrong. His head whipped over to see that his brother’s eyes had gone saucer sized too.

“I’m sorry, what now?” Faifa asked when Yotha just stared like he'd been slapped. “Weren’t you just calling him an idiot, Ears? What’s with the proposal all of a sudden?”

Gun ignored him completely, gaze fixed stubbornly on Yotha. “Well?”

Yotha’s hands twitched, then he pointed to the palm still covering his mouth. Gun’s lips quirked in a sheepish little smile before pulling it away, freeing Yotha's lips. Yotha didn't hesitate.

“It’s all I’ve wanted since I gave you the ring.”

Gun smiled then, like really smiled, and Faifa’s gaze flicked down to the band on his forefinger. The one that always made him blush and get fidgety whenever Faifa asked about it. Gun had never said outright what it meant, but Faifa wasn’t an idiot. Definitely a promise ring of sorts.

He made a mental note to himself to buy one for Wine too. Soon.

This time, when Yotha reached up, Gun let him brush away the tear tracks, leaning into the touch.

“When it happens,” Gun said softly, “I want everyone I love to be there.”

“Anything you want, Beagle.”

Faifa bit back a snort. No matter how often he saw his brother folding like wet cardboard for his man, it was still endlessly entertaining.

“Yeah?" Gun pressed, unblinking.

Yotha nodded. "Hmm."

"How are you gonna pull that off when you’re dead set on keeping our mothers apart?”

Yotha's smile faltered and Faifa resisted the urge to slow clap at his friend's tactics. The alcohol in Gun's system probably helped with the scheming but it was still genius. The sight of Yotha scrambling for words was pure gold. Looking like the symbol of defeat, his brother let out a small sigh.

Gun’s tone gentled. “Give my mother a chance. Even if what you’re afraid of comes up, she won’t think less of you.”

“It’s true,” Faifa chimed in. “I’ve heard Gun talk to her on the phone. Apart from his silliness, slowness and dumbness, Ears and his mom are practically twins.”

“Hey!” Gun looked vaguely offended, but his tone lacked bite.

Yotha’s gaze shifted between them slowly and Faifa recognized the moment his brother realized Gun was right all along. He usually was. Faifa reckoned it was because Gun tended to see the best in everyone. It was annoyingly stubborn at times but it was also one of his friend’s best traits.

Yotha’s best trait was loving Gun.

Finally, Yotha nodded. “Okay.”

Gun lit up, clapping his hands together. “Good! Because I already told mae-”

“Yeah, you told me."

“Not mine. Yours.” Gun explained to a stumped Yotha, then turned to Faifa like he’d just remembered a vital detail.

“Remember, you’re coming too, Fai.”

Faifa blinked, brain trying to keep up with his friend's moods. “Okay?”

“And bring Nong Wine.”

That perked him right up. He gave a mock salute. “Sir, yes sir.”

Gun prattled on, turning back to his boyfriend. “Your mom asked if she could pick the restaurant, and my mae wanted to know if Sunday lunch worked-”

Yotha cupped his boyfriend's face suddenly, squishing his cheeks into an unwilling pout as he tugged Gun closer, breaking his words off. Gun blinked at him, miffed.

"What is it, Yotha?"

"So you had it all planned out with both our moms already?" Yotha asked in disbelief. Gun blinked twice and slowly nodded in his grasp. Yotha cocked a brow.

“Why even pretend to ask my opinion then?”

Gun’s smile was lopsided thanks to the squish from Yotha's grasp. “I was confident I could convince you.”

Yotha scoffed but dropped his hand, smiling despite himself. “How naughty of you, Beagle.”

Gun’s voice went all low and gravelly as he leaned in, lashes fluttering. “I thought you liked me that way?”

And Faifa was reminded once again how inconsiderate these two tended to be, especially in front of people missing their own boyfriends. He made a face as he watched the two exchange a certain type of look he didn’t want to read too much into. For the sake of his own sanity. 

“Yuck."

Unbothered, Gun puckered up and Yotha leaned in immediately for a loud smooch. Someone across the bar wolf-whistled. Faifa rolled his eyes so hard it hurt before he cleared his throat, loudly, when Yotha’s arms slid around Gun’s waist, closing in for more.

“Since I basically orchestrated this whole reunion,” Faifa said, angling for distraction, “do I get to be best man at the wedding?”

They both turned to him. Yotha’s deadpan was brutal. Gun giggled.

“Whose best man?” Gun asked with a grin.

That made Faifa pause. Then his jaw dropped.

“You’re right,” he muttered in realization. It suddenly occurred to him just how important he was to both of them. They could barely manage without him as it was and a wedding made everything more intense. Would they argue over whose best man he would be? What if they asked him to choose? How could he possibly do that? Yotha was his brother but Gun was his closest friend-

“He can be yours,” Yotha told Gun, interrupting Faifa's dilemma.

“I’ll let him be yours, Yotha,” Gun said almost at the same time.

Faifa's lips fell. Gun’s laugh exploded, drowning out the sound of Faifa’s heart breaking into tiny, unwanted pieces. He glared at the pair.

“Wow, thanks. Love to feel so appreciated.”

Gun just shrugged, doing a smug little shoulder wiggle that made Faifa miss his drunk sulking from earlier. Yotha was even less amused.

“It’s what you get for letting Beagle drink.”

“Letting him?" Faifa retorted hotly. "And who made him want to drink in the first place? Who made him cry, huh? I’ll tell his mom on Sunday.”

“Ai Fai!” Yotha’s voice cracked sharp enough to make people glance over. His tone dropped low and dangerous as he added, “don’t you dare…”

“And now you’re threatening your baby brother? I'm sure Gun's mae will love hearing about all your sides, Phi Yotha.”

Yotha clenched his jaw, then turned back to Gun with a pout. “Does he really have to come, Beagle?”

“Let him be,” Gun soothed, patting his boyfriend’s arm as he bit back a smile. “He’s coping because Nong Wine ditched him.”

Faifa’s face crumpled, heart breaking twice in the span of two minutes. “You really think he ditched me, Ears?” He reached across to shake Gun’s arm like a man in crisis.

“You’re dramatic,” Yotha muttered, batting his hand away. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow afternoon!” Faifa wailed, voice high-pitched and miserable. “What do I do until then, Yotha?!”

Gun tilted his head, pity softening his features. “Wanna crash at our place?”

“No!” Yotha half-yelled, shooting Gun a pointed look. His boyfriend didn’t seem to get it though, looking back at him all puzzled, but unfortunately, Faifa understood it just fine. His brother's lewd plans. The urge to puke was overwhelming even though he hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol yet.

“No thanks,” Faifa muttered dryly. “I would rather not… interrupt.”

“Interrupt what?” Gun asked, still clueless. Faifa gave him a moment. Watched as the screws turned slowly in his tiny head and his eyes went almost impossibly larger. Faifa felt himself cringe as Gun gave Yotha a flustered glance, his neck fully flushed. Yotha looked smug enough to launch into orbit. Faifa flagged a waiter and motioned for shots. 

“Both of you just leave already,” he grumbled, “I’ll drink here alone.”

Yotha nodded in agreement, presenting Faifa a thumbs up which he returned with the middle finger. 

“Don’t be like that,” Gun coaxed after recovering, ducking away from a kiss attempt from Yotha. “Let’s go eat fried chicken."

Faifa couldn’t think of anything that sounded less enticing. He leaned back in his chair, lips curling in distaste. “I'll pass.”

“He doesn’t wanna, Beagle,” his brother agreed far too quickly, happiness practically dripping from his tone. “Let’s just go, the two of us.”

That ticked Faifa off. He decided he couldn't let Yotha walk away this pleased while he was still wallowing in self-pity, sitting here like the tragic, overlooked sibling. Not with that insufferable smug face of his and not a shred of sympathy in sight.

“You know what,” Faifa muttered, voice low and pointed at Gun but eyes narrowed at Yotha instead. “I changed my mind, maybe I will get chicken with you.”

“Okay!” Gun chirped, cluelessly happy, as if he wasn’t being used as a pawn in petty sibling warfare.

“Why?” Yotha’s eyes immediately narrowed, suspicion flashing across his face. Faifa only grinned at him, all teeth.

“Because I love you two and want to spend more time with you?” he sang sweetly.

Gun responded with an exaggerated gag, pretending to cringe. Yotha, unsurprisingly, only glared; clearly seeing right through the flimsy answer. But before Faifa could enjoy dragging this out, Gun suddenly shot upright. The chair scraped harshly against the floor, making both brothers turn toward him in surprise.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” he announced, wobble-free this time, which was something of a miracle. “Be right back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Yotha offered automatically, like he always did. Gun grinned down at him in thanks but shook his head. 

“Stay with Fai. I’ll be fine.”

The two of them watched him walk through the maze of tables and chairs, surprisingly steady for someone who looked like he was about to pass out ten minutes ago. Faifa had to wonder, did love really sober people up? Or maybe it was just Gun, motivated by the high of getting his way with Yotha. Either way, it was awe inspiring.

“He’s a special one, that kid,” Faifa muttered, voice colored with equal parts fondness and exasperation, an emotion he reserved exclusively for his silly friend.

Yotha didn’t so much as blink in response, his eyes glued in the direction Gun had gone, neck craning as though sheer willpower could let him peer past the waiter serving them more drinks. Faifa rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to tell him Gun was perfectly capable of peeing without a bodyguard. He tried to show mercy instead.

“Just go after him-”

But Yotha was already moving. He bolted upright, nearly knocking into the waiter, and strode off after his boyfriend without so much as a glance back. Faifa was left alone, staring at the mountain of drinks they'd just been served, now crowding their table. Way too many for one person. He also had no one to rant to about how much he missed Wine. 

Well, no one except Wine himself.

He dug his phone out, ready to do just that, thumb hovering, only for it to buzz before he could even unlock it. A Line notification flashed across the screen. Faifa’s heart actually soared when he saw who it was, his boyfriend having reached across the miles and plucking the thought straight out of his head.

Wish you were here.

Faifa was a goner. His mood catapulted skyward, floating on a cloud of bliss. He typed back at lightning speed, fingers flying across the screen as he spammed the chat with enough hearts to put an emoji keyboard to shame. He followed it up with an “I love you” decorated with a ridiculous line of exclamation marks.

He was then practically levitating out of his chair, all his irritation at his brother and friend melting away in the glow of his perfect boyfriend. Wine was adorable, perfect, his. And Faifa was determined to show it off. Grinning ear to ear, he hopped up from his seat and headed toward the bathrooms.

The plan was simple. He’d intercept the nauseatingly happy couple, casually flaunt his own superior relationship, and bask in the glory of being just as lucky, no, luckier, than they were. But when he rounded the corner and pushed open the men’s restroom door, Faifa froze.

His jaw dropped. His phone nearly slipped from his hands.

A few feet away, Gun was perched up on the marble sink counter, back pressed into the mirror, while Yotha stood between his legs, practically glued to him. One hand of Yotha’s was shoved under Gun’s shirt, the other gripping tight at his upper thigh, spreading his legs apart further. Gun’s fingers clutched Yotha's shoulders desperately, a muffled whimper leaving his lips.

And Yotha, dear god, he looked like he was eating Gun alive, their mouth clasped tight.

“What the hell?!” Faifa’s horrified shout rang off the tiles.

Gun jolted at the sound, yelping as his head smacked back into the mirror with a dull thunk. He blinked hazily, cheeks blazing red as tried to regain his senses. Yotha, in contrast, looked more irritated than surprised, his head dropping onto Gun’s shoulder as he carefully rubbed the back of Gun’s head where he’d hit it.

“Are you two out of your goddamn minds?” Faifa barked. He turned around on the spot quickly, before his eyes accidentally strayed anywhere below belt level. He valued his lunch too much to lose it all over the floor.

“Sorry!” Gun’s voice squeaked high and breathless behind him. There was frantic shuffling after, followed by the unmistakable, mortifying sound of a zipper being closed. Faifa's lips curled into a grimace as Gun's exasperated voice added, “Yotha, get off me!”

It wasn’t like Faifa hadn’t seen them kiss before. Too many times, actually. He'd been an unwilling spectator to multiple pecks and smooches, sometimes full make out sessions if Gun was drunk enough and Faifa was unlucky enough. He'd learned to ignore most of it, jealousy no longer there now that he had Wine.

But this? This was next level. Straight out of the opening shot of a bad porno, except worse. A thousand times worse. Because it was his brother dry-humping his friend against a bathroom sink, in public where anyone could've walked in at any moment.

But of course, Faifa had to be the one to walk in.

When the bathroom went quiet, only then did Faifa dare turn back. Gun was still seated on the counter, flushed scarlet, throwing him a look that was equal parts apologetic and flustered. Yotha had retreated a few steps away, sighing as he raked a frustrated hand through his hair before bracing both on his hips.

“Why are you here?” he bit out, like Faifa was the crazy one.

“I’m sorry,” Faifa scoffed, eyes bulging, “would you rather one of the random twenty guys out there walked in instead?”

Gun paled, looking horrified at the thought. He scrambled down from the counter and turned to thump a weak fist against Yotha’s chest, like it was all his boyfriend's fault. Which was fair, Faifa would’ve bet his entire inheritance that what he'd walked in on was mostly his brother's doing. Yotha had never been subtle about wanting to constantly monopolize Gun, place and circumstances be damned.

“Yotha, I said to wait until we got home!” Gun whined.

Yotha caught his boyfriend's hand mid-swing, lacing their fingers together with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Beagle. Got carried away.”

“Just go home, please,” Faifa begged, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling himself age ten years in the last hour. “Before anyone else needs to bleach their eyes.”

“Stop being so dramatic,” Yotha muttered flatly. “It was barely a kiss.”

Faifa gaped. “Barely?"

Gun sighed, turning sheepishly to Faifa. “Sorry, Fai. This guy has a very strange definition of what a kiss is.”

“Please don’t tell me any more,” Faifa said quickly, cutting him off before details could ruin his life further. He had heard enough. Seen enough. Too much. He needed to somehow delete the sound of Gun's moan from his brain. As if sensing his frayed patience, Yotha tugged Gun toward the door to leave.

“See you later, Fai,” his brother muttered, brushing past. Gun gave him another little smile as he was dragged out. 

“Thanks for keeping me company, Fai. Remember, lunch on Sunday!”

Faifa stared after them as they disappeared past the door, incredulous. Most people would’ve disowned them by now. But not him. He was apparently cursed, or destined, to endure their nonsense, most likely forever. Thankfully, his phone buzzed again, drawing his attention down. A new message from Wine.

This time, a pajama-clad selfie in bed.

Faifa’s heart melted instantly. He grinned, thumb pressing the call button as he turned on his heel to leave the cursed restroom behind. He’d tell Wine all about it; the ridiculousness, the invitation, the trauma. And he’d listen to Wine’s voice, and remember that while yothagun were a disaster, his boyfriend was perfect.