Chapter Text
He didn't really know why he was standing in front of the spotless glass doors of Phuwin's condo, the clock behind the main desk almost ticking midnight.
All he knew was that he should learn to say no to him, especially when every attempt at getting an answer on why he was so desperately needed at such an hour had been answered by annoyingly short “get here ASAP” and variations of such.
Even Parker had looked funny at him while he had reached for his shoes, rubbing his big fluffy head against his shins, trying to understand what his human was up to instead of laying down on the sofa and offering him goodnight belly scratches.
“Don't ask me, big boy.” He had whispered against his floppy ears while crouching down to give him one last hug before disappearing into the humid starless night. “I'll tell you all about it when I come back, I promise.”
He felt incredibly dumb while waving to the doorman, an elderly man who clearly hated the white shirt and tie he was forced to wear for his boring night shift, which probably consisted of watching sport replicas on his phone for the most, and sometimes dealing with weird nightly occurrences like his arrival.
He got instantly recognized, countless times where he had stayed late to work on memorizing lines with Phuwin, dinner shared and double copies of scripts to avoid oily prints on the originals.
Or when they had simply spent time in the small living room, sugarless icy sodas at hand, the exhaustion of their job catching up and their brains faltering in waves, brief moments of pure honesty and chilling fears about the future.
Point being, Pond had unwillingly registered the whole rotation of entrance surveillance, and already knew that this one would not start any small talk, eager to go back to his baseball match.
Gained his brief nod of approval, with a refreshing complete lack of interest in his intentions in the eyes of the guard, he walked to the elevator, a slight annoyance pushing him to move faster. He really couldn't falter why he had been summoned with such urgency.
The high pitched sound of the elevator reaching the right floor registered even before the actual opening of the doors, almost making him hit the metal face first.
He reasoned that a big breath was needed. The cold hair filled his lungs in one big wave, chest expanding and judgment clearing, mind free from the leftover fatigue of the day. The tightness in his muscles that had carried him to the dark door he was staring at slowly relaxed, leaving nothing but soft sleepiness and earnest curiosity.
There was no doubt of Phuwin's reasonable judgment even in his overworked brain. There had to be a good enough reason for the guy to not explain on the phone.
He knocked gently, afraid of breaking the night silence that breathed in the hallway. The door swung open so quickly that Phuwin’s eyes locked on his still raised fist before reaching him.
Pond, in lowering his hand, was helplessly captured by Phuwin’s state of homely comfort. His gaze wandered over the ever so exposed cleavage, pale collarbones poking out from the low collar of a soft gray house shirt, clearly well used and loose enough to fully cover the elastic of the navy shorts that barely reached half of his milky thighs. His curiosity was temporarily set aside in favour of fighting against the instinct to just keep looking at the infinite space between the dark hem and the naked thin ankles.
“What are you waiting for? Somebody to see you? Come in.”
His head snapped up, a cold chill running up his back, fear of being caught starting showing in his dark eyes, but Phuwin was already moving away from the doorframe, light footsteps directed to what Pond knew was the kitchen. He followed short, shoes slipped off and carefully set next to the wall.
Phuwin’s back welcomed him in the small space, bony shoulders following his arms’ frenetic movement. The big light was off, and the fan spotlights gave Phuwin’s outline a softer appearance, like his body had been blurred on the edges. Maybe he should have worn his glasses before leaving his house. Tiredness was really pulling tricks at him.
“What is it then that couldn't wait till tomorrow?” Pond spoke, annoyance coming back to bite. Not only had he shown up, he was being ignored too? His patience was not endless, even if it really looked like it when it came to his work partner.
He saw his movements cease and a sudden rigidness straighten up his shoulders before he turned around in a swift movement, arm stretched to hand him an unmistakable wine glass. He didn't reach for it, instead he got his first proper look at Phuwin’s face since he had walked in, and what he found in his eyes made him grab the stool under the small table and sit down, long legs comically bent in front of him and a heavy sight leaving his parted lips.
Phuwin looked anxious. Anxious in a not work-related way, and that was what made Pond worry the most. Phuwin was rarely anxious. Sure, the way he over-scheduled his life to fit as many activities as humanly possible in was a bit over the top, but it helped him not get overwhelmed by the amount of things his job and studies required of him.
Pond had been close to him when he had received sudden calls, notices of event cancellations or rescheduling of filming and he knew that that wasn't the face he made when his perfectly organized life got messed up.
What he had in front of him, the slightly too pulled smile and wide searching eyes, he had seen them already in way more private moments. The weeks before graduation, when everything had been submitted and the wait for the final evaluation had consumed his energy, the prospect of not getting the grade he wanted and telling his family too much to properly hide. Or when his eyes had unfortunately encountered harsh words from comments, not against his work but against his persona, vile and proofless accusations.
Pond knew that it was personal, whatever it was.
“Maybe you should also sit.” He said, fingers tapping the pristine white surface. Phuwin nodded, too much force in his movement making the dark liquid swim in the vast base of the glasses. He put both of them down on the table, one directly in front of Pond, and reached for his own stool.
“I’m not drinking without a good reason man, tomorrow I got work again and I don’t have time for extra workout.”
Phuwin reached again for his glass, gaze firm on his hand, and slowly raised it, bringing it to his pale lips. “I need you to have at least one glass before I tell you about it, please.”
Pond expected him to wait for his reaction, but instead Phuwin caught the cold glass against his lips and got to drink, pretty eyelashes fluttering against the instinct to wince at the bitter liquid. The glass was almost empty when he lowered it, a slight shake of the head to wish the aftertaste away. Pond gasped at being suddenly pierced by his gaze, slightly obfuscated by a few strands of hair fallen down.
“Please Pond, drink.”
A purple circle revealed itself when Pond lifted the glass. When he put it down again, only a powdery residue was left to dirty the crystal. Cheap wine. Aftertaste too acidic to be on purpose. Pond could almost picture a quick run to the convenience store around the corner, a baseball cap and a mask to conceal his face to whoever might see him buy sad sad wine from a terrible selection.
He was familiar with Phuwin’s resistance to alcohol, and so he didn’t move when the man grabbed the bottle from the counter to pour himself another one.
“Phuwin.”
There was nothing he could say. He didn’t know where he stood on this unknown dilemma that was clearly swimming in Phuwin’s mind as much as wine was in his stomach.
Finally, both sweaty palms grabbing onto the sharp edge of the table, Phuwin’s poorly lit delicate features found steadiness.
“There’s this guy I’m… talking with.” It was an open question, an inquisition on how much Pond had kept attention in the previous couple of weeks, when Phuwin had thrown half formed comments on how he had “messages to answer to” and “dinner to go to with a new friend”. He kept his head low, curve almost muting his words, but no amount of head bowing could hide the gentle veil of blush that had covered his cheeks at the mention of this mysterious person. Pond chose to blame it on the third glass finally kicking in.
Obviously he knew what Phuwin was referencing, as if they had not shared most of their time on earth together for the last few years. The distance had disappeared with time, almost making their beings blur together. He knew Phuwin’s mannerism like it was his, every line of his body perfectly traced in his brain with clinical precision, how he could even think that Pond could miss a new hesitation in his timid words was lost to him.
Obviously he had mentally recorded every mention of this new entity that had entered their world, not without a pinch of waryness. There was something unsettling about the lack of details about this person that had made him almost eager to know more. Maybe the time had come in a random midnight conversion.
He nodded, a simple recognition of Phuwin’s words that concealed his interest in the topic.
“Well, he doesn’t really seem to… want to overstep I guess.”
So the person was a man. Pond wasn’t surprised, the guy really wasn’t the first that Phuwin had been interested in, but the mention of it had made his back straighten a bit, weight shifting from side to side on the stool.
“He’s shy? And you want him to make the first step?”
The air was warm in the kitchen, which was indeed unusual for Phuwin’s house. The usual chill that would sometimes run over him got exchanged for a single sweat drop running over his temple. Maybe the single glass of terrible wine had gotten to him, or maybe he wasn’t really that interested in the mysterious individual flirting game.
It was the stale silence that jumped on his nerves, making his hand snap forward to stop Phuwin’s damp finger from circling the glass’ rim for the fourth time instead of answering him. He grasped his wrist, stopping the fidgeting. The blood was running hot under his fingertips, heartbeat rabbiting at the pressure. He let go just when Phuwin’s doe eyes looked up at him, a vast land of insecurities laid bare on the table. Pond, his own heart scolding him for his harshness, gently laid the motionless arm on the table, caving into the instinct to keep his hand there, the contact not broken but changed.
“Did he say something bad?” Pond guessed, trying to recall how he had reacted to other romantic disappointments, but Phuwin firmly shook his head.
“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Ice pooled in his belly at how quickly Phuwin had defended the guy. He didn’t like it, the sureness of it.
“Then what is it, Phuwin? Why am I even here if he’s such a good guy?” There was no hiding the subtext of his words, no concealing the spice in his tone.
He felt the muscles of his arm flew under his clammy palm before he saw his lips move.
“He’s good, Pond. He’s so good that I want him to know that he shouldn't hold back with me anymore.”
There was no way that single glass of wine was causing that much movement in his stomach. Maybe his dinner had clashed with it and now everything was ready to present itself again, because Pond really felt like throwing up.
“And how am I supposed to help with that?” He was scared of the answer, as he knew the depths of Phuwin’s reasoning, but probably nothing could've prepared him from what Phuwin would state just a moment later, purple cheeks and scary resolve in his weirdly clear eyes.
“I want you to take some suggestive pictures of me. Sexy, I mean, to send to him. To make him understand that I want him to look at me like that.”
Pond had made peace with his traitorous heart and dumb brain long ago, a pact of agreement between the two, and yet nothing could stop his eyes from getting glazed with pain the moment he properly processed for what he had completely disregarded his already insufficient sleeping schedule and military precise dietary plan.