Chapter Text
I.
It would be good to get married. To show what you stand for.
Those words keep echoing in Keng’s mind as he walks though the long corridor of the Pingmuang residence to the opulent drawing room. Keng doesn’t necessarily think that marriage and governmental policies should have any particularly influence over one another but he cannot fully deny his father’s words either. A politician over 30, especially one that is setting his eyes on a goal this high, would probably look more trustworthy with a partner and a kid or two. It is just voters’ perceptions work.
When Keng enters the room, he makes sure to bow respectfully in all directions, just in case. Even though he had been a regular to this household many years in the past, and still occasionally attends formals, the Pingmuang are extremely traditional. Keng supposes that it comes with the aristocratic territory – the patriarch has always kept his family traditions above anything else.
‘Ma’am. Sir.’ He addresses the elders who stand up to greet him. Despite the rigidity of the etiquette, they are not strict. They both smile with delight when he enters.
‘No need to be so formal,’ the man pats Keng on the back, ushering him further in and towards the seating area.
‘I agree. Please call me auntie like you used to,’ the woman encourages warmly. ‘We may soon become family.’
Keng’s polite smile freezes but it lasts but a second. He relaxes his shoulders and turns to the last person he has yet to address. He inwardly sighs. That’s why he’s here, after all. That’s the whole purpose.
The youngest Pingmuang son stands to the side, sending him an unsure smile. Keng forces him not to sigh, this time for real.
He knows Kong of course – sort of. Keng has seen him more times than he can count in various social settings, though it’s more like Keng has been aware of the fact that Kong exists, but not much more. With an 8 year difference between them, they have never really moved in the same circles. Even the fact that Kong is Tle’s younger brother didn’t help much – from time to time Keng would politely exchange a few words with Kong at a formal dinner but beyond that, he couldn’t quite imagine what they would talk about.
Well, now Keng supposes that he has his whole life ahead of him to think of topics.
‘How do you do?’ Keng turns to Kong, opting for a small nod. A bow would feel out of place, so would a hand shake. This feels the most appropriate.
‘Thank you. Khun Harit, how are you?’ Kong nods as well, and it may just be Keng’s imagination but he looks just as awkward as Keng feels.
‘Please just call me Phi Keng like you usually do.’
The four sit down, and tea is served. Keng and Kong’s parents converse, lightly grazing over several topics, though it’s not the usual easiness with which guest visits would go. All threads inevitably go back to Keng’s life, achievements and expectations; they are then subsequently countered with information about Kong’s university life and recent whereabouts.
It’s not that Keng is in an enormous rush, or that a person like Kong would not have any other prospects. But with Keng’s high social status and being on track to becoming the next governor of Bangkok, it would make sense to marry somebody from a family with such rich traditions and so ingrained into the local community.
Keng looks at Kong again. These things take time, he reassures himself. It takes time to get to know each other. It takes time-
‘You’re here.’ Smiling, Madame Pingmuang turns to the door that clicks behind Keng. He instinctively turns around to the newcomer.
‘I do apologise for my lateness. The traffic is quite bad at this hour.’ The man is still in his coat, a leather backpack in his left hand. He looks around before setting his eyes on Keng for moment in an assessing way. Then he turns back to the woman. ‘I didn’t mean to offend our guest.’
It’s not exactly sarcasm but the subtle jab does not go unnoticed by Keng. Well, it almost does, for how stunned Keng is. Isn’t this..?
‘Keng, darling, you still remember Namping from school, don’t you? We are blessed to finally get him back after all those years he chose education over his own parents.’ Madame Pingmuang is joking, of course, but there’s still a note of playful accusation somewhere in there.
‘But what are you saying, Mother? I called you every day, didn’t I? And now I’m back home for good, ready to atone by staying by your side forever if necessary.’ Namping replies just as good-naturedly.
Namping.
It takes Keng a second to process the developments in front of him. Namping. It’s really been a long while since they last saw each other. Having only been two years ahead, Keng saw quite a lot of the middle Pingmuang brother throughout their school years. When Keng moved on to attend university, Tle would still occasionally mention Namping but in the last twelve years, they’ve seen each other barely a handful of times, and not once in recent memory. From what Keng understood, Namping left to pursue education abroad and his visits at home never lasted long periods of time.
Keng remembers Namping being bright-eyed, on a shorter side. Outspoken.
The man in front of him is tall and quite frankly, stunning. When their eyes meet again, that confident spark is still very much there. Namping looks like he’s privy to an amusing secret but he’s not willing to share it.
‘It better not be forever, young man. We need to get you married off soon.’
‘You know how I feel about marriage, Mother. It’s an archaic institution. No offence, Khun Harit.’
Keng belatedly realises that the last remark was directed at him, so he rushes to respond, ‘None taken.’
Namping extends his hand for a hand shake – another evidence of being abroad for a long time. Keng accepts.
They sit back down and the conversation continues for another ten minutes or so. Keng tries his best to focus on Kong sitting next to him but his interlocutor has little to say, choosing to let his parents do most of the talking. On his side, Keng’s thoughts are completely occupied with the man sitting on the armchair to his left. In fact, it almost physically pains Keng not to turn back to look at him when he can feel the other’s blatant stare on him.
Damn Tle for not giving him a warning. But then again, why should Tle suspect that Keng would react this intensely to Tle’s second younger brother?
II.
‘…Namping will keep you company for a few minutes when Kong is getting his things. We really have to get going but we do hope to see you again soon.’ Madame Pingmuang bids Khun Harit good-bye as the couple leaves the drawing room.
His parents have always been busy, Namping supposes, as he smiles their way one last time. The charity evening gala is no exception – though leaving Namping alone to entertain their guest must surely be some form of punishment. With his parents and youngest brother out of the room, it’s only the two of them left.
They turn to each other at the same time.
‘Khun Harit-‘
‘Phi Keng is fine.’ The guest interrupts. At Namping’s puzzled expression, he reiterates. ‘I remember you used to call me that. Or should I start using addressing you formally as well?’
‘…Phi Keng, then,’ Namping eventually agrees. He sits back down, prompting the other to do the same. ‘More tea?’
‘I’m good, thank you.’ After a prolonged moment of silence, Namping can’t help but observe,
‘For a politician, you seem to be quiet.’ Phi Keng seems to be taken aback at the comment, before letting out a small smile.
‘I guess I’m used to keeping a poker face before I can reveal my cards,’ he replies somewhat ambiguously. ‘What about Nong Namping? Which department are you teaching in?’
‘Political communication,’ Namping replies, the amused spark back in his gaze.
‘Ah,’ Phi Keng leans back in his seat, a self-conscious smile appearing on his lips. He crosses his arms on his chest. ‘Am I to assume that in future, we will be partaking in verbal sparrings on the account of our differences in political leanings?’
‘That depends on whether you’re seriously thinking about marrying my brother. Because quite frankly, I’m not seeing it.’
Phi Keng looks taken aback again. He definitely did not expect this kind of comment.
‘May I know what brings this on?’ He finally asks.
‘Kong is too young to get married.’ Namping is not shy to voice out his opinion.
‘Twenty-four is not that young.’
‘He’s not even graduated yet. The two of you don’t seem to have much in common, either.’
Phi Keng regards Namping for a moment with an enigmatic look.
‘Sometimes all it takes is one spark. You never know. Your brother and I may hit it off.’
‘Did Phi Tle arrange this? He’s always been an awful matchmaker.’
‘Ouch.’
‘No offence.’
‘I’m beginning to take offence, actually.’ Phi Keng replies but there is mirth in his eyes as he keeps them trained on the younger.
‘I just want my brother to be happy. There’s quite a big age difference here. Also, I don’t know if I’m comfortable marrying him off to the person with such bizarre views on solar energy use.’
‘So it is about politics.’ Phi Keng is now smirking in disbelief, seemingly despite himself. Namping shrugs defiantly.
III.
Keng doesn’t know how but instead of the planned coffee with Kong, he is now seated across from his older brother, engaged with some kind of strange push and pull, while his date is basically acting as a referee.
Granted, it was actually Kong’s idea to invite Namping. Keng could understand his nerves and the awkwardness, so he conceded but now he’s beginning to think he severely miscalculated. It’s Nong Namping himself who is killing the mood here, before Keng had any time to actually bring his A-game.
Keng is trying hard not to react to any of the baits that Namping throws his way but it’s just not possible. He just gets sucked right in. Thankfully, he booked a private room because enough people have already recognised him on the way in. He doesn’t need his constituents to see him losing his nerve in public.
And he is. Losing his nerve. His smile has become so stiff, at this point he is seething through his teeth.
‘…I never said cutting health care budget for the Thung Kru district has been approved. In fact right now, the government is working with the responsible bodies to ensure it does not happen.’
‘Uh-uh.’ Namping hums back but the disregard for Keng’s words is evident. Keng takes a deep breath and decided to turn back to his younger companion. He knows what Namping is trying to do – and it’s working. He’s barely learnt anything about Kong today.
‘Nong Kong, do you think you’re going to continue your studies next Autumn?’ Kong’s parents had already informed Keng about the former’s impending graduation.
‘No-not sure yet,’ Kong stumers, looking back and forth between Keng and Namping. Keng can’t blame him. By now, Kong must be envisioning a lifetime full of family headaches. ‘ I was actually thinking of doing an internship abroad first.’
‘Where are you thinking of going?’
‘Maybe Australia. My mother doesn’t want me to go far.’ Keng nods in understanding. After that, the conversation dies down once again. Both parties are acutely aware of the situation they are in which makes it uncomfortable enough, but it doesn’t help that it’s really difficult to find a topic they would actually have in common.
‘I interned here in Bangkok. If your parents are not willing to let you go to a foreign country, I’m sure there must be other good opportunities here.’
‘I suppose so.’
The silence descends upon them again and Keng is racking his brain for what to say next. Just when he’s about to move on to another topic, he catches Namping’s eye once again. It didn’t take Keng long to figure out that those eyes are unnervingly intelligent. Keng knows he’s been seen right through.
‘I heard that Phi Keng’s grades weren’t so good back at university. In fact, there was a whole article about it if I recall correctly. Bangkok Post, wasn’t it?’ Namping opens his mouth again and quite frankly, Keng doesn’t know if he’s being saved from the silence or thrown into something even worse.
Oh, he remembers that article very well. The opposition was trying to discredit him before he even became a real contender in the running for the important positions. It backfired.
‘We can’t all be good at everything. And, if I recall, it did win a lot of empathy points. After all, who hasn’t flanked a class once or twice in college?’
‘I have never flunked a class,’ Namping counters right back with conviction. It’s not exactly bragging. It’s more like deserved self-assurance. After half a beat, Keng replies,
‘I can believe that.’
‘I’m also a certified public speaking coach. Let me know if you ever want to improve. I’ll charge you half price, you know, a family rate.’
Once again, Keng is left speechless. He knows that he should be seriously offended but he just can’t bring himself to be mad. Namping’s quick wit and the cheek with which he just goes right for the kill to Keng’s ego are downright admirable.
There is no malice in his expression, despite his opposition to Kong’s marriage. Just light mirth, like he’s enjoying testing Keng’s patience. A cheap trick indeed, but it’s proving to be working. Keng wants to laugh at himself for being so thrown off by Namping’s attitude.
IV.
In the coming days, the pattern very much repeats. Each time Keng attempts to extricate available time to meet his potential match, Nong Namping is there like a clockwork. In fact, Keng is beginning to suspect that it may be premeditated behaviour on the side of both brothers. It wouldn’t have mattered if Namping were the only person playing the game, but Nong Kong must either be looking for his brother’s support or simply a way out of this situation.
Keng decides that for the time being, there is still no harm trying to get to know him better. After all, they really have had no real chance to even start. On one Thursday afternoon, he invites Kong out, just the two of them. Seeing Keng being this direct about it, Kong doesn’t seem to have the face to bring his brother around.
They agree to meet at Kong’s campus. Keng would admittedly prefer a more private space but it is what it is. It may give him the chance to see Kong in a more natural environment which can’t be bad. So far, all they’ve done is sit awkwardly in VIP rooms where neither of them felt quite comfortable.
Keng is a public figure – there is no way around it. He is among the youngest politicians with a considerable sway in the current political landscape. Heck, he is tabbed to be the next governor, maybe as soon as in the next few years. People like him. Younger people know his face.
He pretends he doesn’t see people turning around as he walks by in semi casual attire, holding two cups of coffee in a paper bag. He conspicuously nods with a smile at those who are more direct with their recognition of him.
He walks into the larger compound which houses multiple departments, including languages. Kong is studying translation which, considering his desire to travel evident even to Keng, suits him quite well.
On the way through a long corridor, Keng overhears two students leaving an open door lecture happening in the background.
‘…otherwise I’d have stayed longer.’
‘I know, right? What teacher Namping says actually makes sense. Not like teacher Aof.’
‘Doesn’t hurt that he’s so beautiful, either…’
Keng turns around towards the door he has just passed. What are the odds..?
He backtracks despite himself, turning left into the short back passage and gingerly crosses the threshold. Quite a lot of students occupy the lecture theatre, with seats cascading down to the lectern situated at the very bottom. Keng looks down and indeed, there is no mistake. Teacher Namping, the teacher who actually makes sense, the teacher who Keng can begrudgingly agree is beautiful, stands there – in a simple white shirt and grey slacks, thick-rimmed reading glasses perched on his nose, and explaining something calming while the whole room remains transfixed.
Keng himself must have stared a little too intensely – to his defence, he is just surprised to see the other here, is all – because their eyes finally meet. Of course, Nong Namping does what he does best. Which is,
‘Perhaps it would be best to hear it from the man himself, though. The environmental policies of the current majority representing us will have severe repercussions for many years to come, after all. Anything you’d like to add, Khun Harit? Or would you say that my lecture has described your leanings accurately? You have been standing there for a while.’
If Keng were any less of a trained politician, he would have been stumped in the moment but alas, he plasters his best work smile for everyone to see as he calmly responds,
‘I believe that bar a few particularly poignant adjectives, you did our policies justice. I do hope that in future, you will refrain from calling my party ‘uninformed’ but I am ready to come back here and debate this issue if necessary.’
‘I will take your advisement into consideration.’ Namping doesn’t miss a beat in getting the last word in, and promptly turns to his students whose levels of excitement are now barely contained behind their phones, recording the whole exchange. ‘I think we can stop here for today. If you are interested in this topic, PolSoc is meeting here again next week, at the same time. And who knows,’ Namping’s eyes slide over Keng in passing, ‘perhaps Phi Keng will be here to debate us, after all.’
There is not a chance that the room has missed the more casual address that left Namping’s lips but the latter has already turned to his desk and starts collecting his things. Keng politely puts his hands into a wai as he passes by students on his way down to the lectern. All this will inevitably be on the internet in the next minute or so.
Even as Keng stops in front of Namping, he is conscious of the fact that some of the gathered still linger in the room, probably hoping to see what happens next.
‘To what do I own this pleasure? I thought you were quite adamant about meeting my brother alone. Yet, here you are.’ Namping gives Keng another onceover as he continues to pack.
‘You are the one who’s in the Linguistics wing of the building, as far as I’m aware.’
‘Why yes, even Chula suffers from the lack of available space every once in a while. We have been moved here.’ Namping notices the bag in the other’s hand. ‘Don’t tell me you bought Kong coffee.’
‘What’s wrong with coffee now?’ Keng can’t help but turn defensive.
‘Nothing. Except, my brother doesn’t drink coffee.’
‘What? But last time-‘ Keng trails off as the realisation downs on him. All the times the three of them went out, Keng never actually saw Kong take a sip of the beverage that Keng bought him. Keng always ordered the same thing for Kong and Namping. In fact, today he also carries the exact same order. Black, two spoons of sugar.
It hits Keng in the moment that it must be Namping’s usual order. He was the one who explicitly asked for this drink the first time they met, and Keng just went along with it.
Keng is rather unsettled by this discovery. He already knows more about Namping than he ever has about Kong.
‘I suppose you won’t mind helping me finish this cup, then.’ Keng reaches into the bag and hands Namping the other cup that is now useless to him.
Keng vows to let Kong pick his own drinks from now on.
Namping accepts the offering with ease, his eyes still twinkling.
‘What’s another cup on top of the other five I’ve already had.’