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The Custody Battle of P’Jade

Summary:

They discussed everything before getting married, everything except who get’s P’Jade in the divorce.

Notes:

Just a funny idea that popped into my head this week after I binged the show. Hope you enjoy! :)

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The best thing about marrying your partner after living together for two years is that there should, in theory, be no surprises.

King couldn’t remember where he’d heard that before, but right now he felt deeply cheated by this supposedly infallible piece of advice.

It all started two weeks ago.

They had been married for seven months, and it was really no different from the year they were dating or the year they spent engaged—a perfectly lovely stretch of domestic bliss with his kitten. He had no complaints.

However, everything changed two weeks ago when Uea suggested they watch a documentary on sustainable living.

While King usually preferred crime dramas or shoot-’em-up movies, he could hardly say no to his husband when he so rarely took charge of the TV—especially since the dinner he'd made that night was delicious.

So they watched the documentary.

It was surprisingly engaging, set up in an investigative style, with the presenter confronting various fat-cat manufacturers and chasing down fishing vessels on the high seas. Even King found himself enjoying the narrative, and he was learning a lot about ethical consumption and the evils of single-use straws.

However, his interest in the documentary was nothing compared to Uea’s.

After only a few minutes, Uea was completely engrossed in the film. He barely paid attention to King’s hand in his lap trying to distract him, and only spared it a brief glance when he slapped it away.

When the documentary finished, Uea was broody and quiet, and they went to bed in a strange mood.

However, the next morning, Uea was up first and making breakfast as usual.

“I want to do some shopping this morning, so could you please tell P’Bas that I’ll be late coming in? I work enough overtime that it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yeah, sure—but what are you shopping for?”

Uea pecked him on the head on his way out.

“It’s a secret,” he said, and left in a flurry of pink cardigan.

That day, Uea arrived at work with three large paper bags stuffed with all manner of reusable items—from metal straws, which he promptly placed in the office kitchen, to matching reusable coffee mugs for him and King, to a garland of solar-powered fairy lights.

“We can hang these on your balcony so we won’t need to use the powered lights when we hang out there,” he said cheerfully, when King extracted the string of lights from the bag dubiously.

This was, apparently, only the beginning.

When they got home, Uea rushed to shower first, announcing that he wanted to get started on dinner straight away.

On his way to the shower, King noticed a stack of fancy paper bags folded neatly on the kitchen table. They didn’t look like the usual white plastic ones from their regular supermarket.

He put it out of his mind.

Uea had previously gone through phases of exploring international cooking and, by necessity, had to shop at specialty stores. This was completely fine by King, who felt he was blessed enough to have a partner who cooked for him almost every night.

Anything, he thought, but those dreadful Indian curries that left his mouth burning and numb for hours.

When he returned to the kitchen, it became quickly apparent that this was not some new international phase Uea was dabbling in.

He picked up what looked like a dense, brown kitchen sponge and squeezed it gently.

“What is this?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral—but struggling.

Oh man, he was struggling...

He dropped the sponge back onto the plate and looked at Uea.

“That’s tempeh,” Uea replied from where he was stir-frying vegetables in the pan.

“Tem—what?”

“Tempeh,” Uea repeated, and to King’s horror, picked up the sponge, diced it quickly, and dropped it into the pan with the vegetables. “It’s a good replacement for meat, and it’s healthier.”

Yes, but is it edible…? King thought morosely.

Quietly, he took a seat at the kitchen counter and watched Uea finish preparing dinner. Aside from the sponge stir-fry, Uea also made two side dishes—a salad and a plate of pickled vegetables.

Okay… so there was no meat. That was fine. They didn’t eat meat every day. Sometimes they had fish, and sometimes—although less often—they just had something vegetarian, like pizza or something.

No big deal.

King thought this firmly to himself as he helped Uea carry the dishes to the living room table.

They sat down together, and Uea quickly served King a generous portion of sponge stir-fry over rice.

“Here you go,” he said cheerfully. “Try it.”

King waited until Uea filled his own plate, and then, under the weight of Uea’s intense scrutiny, picked up a piece of sponge with great trepidation and placed it in his mouth.

It tasted exactly as bad as it looked.

And he couldn’t hide his reaction fast enough.

“What’s wrong?” Uea asked. “Did I not prepare it right? I followed the instructions on the packet…” he added, frowning slightly as he thought it through.

King carefully set his bowl down and reached across the table to take Uea’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, “but this is really difficult to eat.”

As someone who took great pride in excelling in all manner of cooking, the news that there was something he couldn’t prepare properly would be a blow to his ego.

King braced himself for the inevitable backlash.

“What do you mean?! Let me try.”

Uea pulled his hand away waspishly and quickly stuffed a piece of tempeh in his mouth. He chewed for a moment, then swallowed.

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he said after a beat. “That’s how it’s supposed to taste. In any case, it’s better for the environment—and for the animals.”

“Is this about the documentary?” King prodded gently.

Uea bristled.

“And what if it is? Unlike you, I actually paid attention, and if you had, you wouldn’t be complaining about tempeh—you’d be worrying about the state of the world!”

King tried to work out how they had gone from eating grainy sponge to worrying about the state of the world, but decided to roll with it.

“I know that documentary made some good points about the environment and mindful consumption, but Uea… don’t you think this is all a bit extreme?”

He gestured vaguely at the sponge stir-fry, then at the garland of fairy lights hanging off the couch that Uea had insisted he put up after dinner.

“I mean, how about we—”

“Are you saying I’m overreacting?!”

King winced.

He had a nagging suspicion he would be sleeping on the couch tonight. He glanced at it mournfully before turning back to Uea.

“I don’t think you’re overreacting, babe, but sometimes it’s easy to get caught up in these things, and—”

“So you’re saying I’m overreacting,” Uea cut in, hearing only what he wanted to hear.

Right. So he was set on having a fight tonight. Great.

King sighed.

“How about we just finish dinner and go to bed early tonight? I think we could both use a good night’s sleep.”

“So now you’re saying I’m a child? That I need a nap because I’m ‘cranky’? Fuck you, King!”

Uea got up and stormed out of the room. A moment later, King heard the clatter of pots and pans.

He gathered the dishes and made his way to the kitchen.

Uea was leaning over the sink, aggressively scrubbing a pan.

“Uea…” he said, placing the dishes by the sink.

“Leave me alone,” Uea replied, his voice raw with suppressed tears.

King glanced at him sadly, but left quietly. Without prompting, he collected the fairy lights from the living room and went out to the balcony to hang them up.

When he came back inside, a pillow and a blanket had been haphazardly thrown onto the couch.

He sighed and stretched out to sleep.

Things were bound to get better in the morning, once Uea had a chance to calm down.

Right?

 

****

 

Things did not get better in the morning. In fact, very little could have made them worse.

When King woke up, Uea had already left. There was no breakfast or coffee waiting for him in the kitchen, like there usually would be. He got ready quickly and drove to work, an unsettling sense of dread building in his chest for what was waiting for him.

At the office, Uea was already seated at his desk. He ignored King when he entered. King greeted Gun and took his seat.

A short while later, P’Jade walked into the room and greeted everyone.

“Ah, Uea—what’s this?” Jade asked, picking something up from his desk.

King turned around and saw it was one of the reusable coffee cups Uea had bought the day before.

“It’s a reusable coffee cup,” Uea said with a smile. “Much better for the environment—and you get a discount from the café downstairs when you bring it for your drinks.”

P’Jade lit up.

“Uea!” he cried. “You’re so thoughtful!”

He rushed around the desk and hugged Uea from behind his chair, planting a kiss on top of his head.

“I love you!”

“I love you too,” Uea said, patting Jade’s hands where they were wrapped around his chest. “Do you want to go downstairs and grab a coffee with me? We can use our new cups.”

He picked up his own matching cup and gave it a little shake in front of Jade.

Jade’s eyes widened behind his glasses.

“You got us matching cups!” he exclaimed. “Ha! Take that, King!”

He thrust his cup triumphantly in King’s direction, like Superman in flight.

King, who had turned in his seat to observe them, rolled his eyes and turned back to his screen.

He was absolutely not jealous.

Uea and Jade left to get coffee, and Gun took the opportunity to lean over the desk divider to speak to King.

“Are you guys, like… alright?” he asked.

He wore a dubious expression, which wasn’t surprising—he and Uea hardly ever fought.

King sighed.

“We’re fine,” he said. “Just had a small fight over nothing. It’ll be over by the end of the day, I guarantee it.”

“Ah… okay,” Gun trailed off, though he still sounded unsure.

King ignored him and returned to his work. He knew Uea—he could hardly hold a grudge.

When Jade and Uea returned with their coffees, King immediately noticed the way Jade was watching him.

Jade walked straight up to him while Uea returned to his desk, and proclaimed, unprompted—

“Just so you know, Uea told me everything, and I think you’re an ass.”

Wait. What?

“What the hell? What did he tell you?” King demanded, rising from his desk.

“Only the truth,” Uea said smoothly, without so much as a glance in his direction.

“Which is?” King shot back, his voice turning cold.

“Guys, can we calm down?” Gun interjected nervously.

At that exact moment, P’Bas entered, followed by Mongkol.

The newcomers paused, taking in the strange tension in the room, and exchanged quiet looks. P’Bas greeted everyone briefly before heading into his office, while Mongkol slipped into his seat.

King was absolutely livid.

He would not stand being slandered to P’Jade—and the rest of the office—over this nonsense. Especially not P’Jade, who was his closest friend, practically a brother.

Having come to a decision, he spun around in his chair and sidled over to Jade.

“Hey, buddy,” he said in that cheeky, wheedling tone that had a one-hundred-percent success rate of getting him what he wants. “How about we grab lunch later? My treat.”

P’Jade gaped at him, glasses slidding down the bridge of his nose. King pushed them gently into place with the tip of one finger.

“You’re asking me to lunch?” Jade said, scandalised. “You never ask me to lunch! You don’t even go when I ask you to lunch!”

King winced. That was true—he couldn’t deny it.

But he also couldn’t let Uea win P’Jade in this ridiculous argument.

“There’s a first time for everything,” he said, clapping Jade on the shoulder. “Come on, you can pick where we go.”

“Hot pot,” P’Jade replied instantly.

King laughed.

“Hot pot it is.”

From behind Jade, King heard a pencil snap.

He resisted the urge to look over at Uea and instead slid back to his desk with a quiet sense of victory.

After lunch—during which King made a concerted effort to explain the ridiculousness of the situation, and why it was entirely Uea’s fault—they returned to the office…

Only to find it empty.

“Where is everyone?” Jade asked, just as their colleagues began to file out of the meeting room.

“Oh, P’Jade,” Uea said, pointedly ignoring King. “We got called into an urgent meeting by P’Bas about that new lipstick campaign. I took extra notes for the tasks he assigned to you.”

“Ah! Thank you!” P’Jade bowed deeply to Uea before pulling him into a hug. “You’re the best, Uea!”

“I know,” Uea said, flicking his hand beside his face like a diva and smiling glamorously. “Come on, I’ll explain everything to you—let’s go to the kitchen.”

He linked arms with P’Jade and dragged him away.

King growled.

That opportunistic bastard.

He thought he could win, playing the helpful colleague?

Pff...Please.

Two could play that game.

When Uea and Jade returned, Jade quickly sat at his desk to get started on the work—or at least he tried to. His computer had gone blank and refused to start, no matter how many buttons he pressed or how hard he shook it.

“Damn it!” he cried, already teetering on the edge of a full-blown panic.

“What happened?” Gun asked, standing up from his desk.

“My computer won’t start!”

King rolled his chair over to Jade’s desk, reaching for the mouse.

“Oh no,” he said, jiggling it on the pad and pressing a few buttons experimentally. “Don’t worry, Jade—I can fix this for you.”

“You can?” Jade exclaimed, looking at King like he was his personal saviour. “Really?! Oh, thank you, King! Thank you!”

He launched himself at King and wrapped him in a tight hug.

From across the room, another pencil snapped.

King smirked and patted Jade sympathetically on the back.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you, buddy,” he said, glancing pointedly over his shoulder at Uea.

While Jade was distracted, King reached under the desk and flicked on the power switch to the connector.

The computer immediately sprang back to life, and P’Jade could not have been more grateful.

Take that, Uea.

Things settled somewhat after that. Reassured of his place as Jade’s favourite, King felt no further retaliation was necessary…

For now.

At about quarter to six, P’Bas came out of his office to inform them that the adjusted campaign they had been working on had been accepted by the client and was due to launch next week.

“To thank you all for your effort today—taking on this new direction and making it happen in just one day—I thought I’d take you out for a drink. How about it?” he said, smiling.

P’Jade and Gun cheered loudly and jumped to their feet. Mongkol excused himself, saying he would love to but had a date.

King glanced over at Uea, who was packing up his things without enthusiasm. The thought of another awful night at home—with a moody Uea giving him the silent treatment—sent a shiver down his spine. He quickly grabbed his things from his desk and joined Gun and Jade at the front, where they were chatting to P’Bas about where to go.

“I think I’ll join you guys,” he said.

P’Bas smiled.

“Sure—is Uea coming?”

“He—”

“Of course I’m coming,” Uea cut in, appearing beside Jade and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Great, the more the merrier!” said P’Bas, leading them to the elevators.

They ended up at a club called Sparkle, a riot of coloured glass and giant chandeliers. A hostess showed them to a private room upstairs, and P’Jade immediately made his way to the karaoke book, flipping through it enthusiastically.

King was already regretting his decision to come, but one look at Uea steeled his resolve. He knew why Uea had come—and that was precisely why he couldn’t leave.

P’Jade.

Drinks were poured, and soon everyone was getting lively.

Gun passed out after belting out a painfully earnest rendition of Justin Bieber’s Baby, which King filmed and immediately vowed to play at his wedding.

P’Bas excused himself after an hour, leaving the company card with King to cover the drinks.

Between Uea and King, a very drunk P’Jade squinted at the screen, attempting to follow the lyrics to All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor.

The atmosphere was quickly becoming unbearable, but King was loath to lose to Uea, so he bit his lip and wrapped an arm around P’Jade encouragingly. Uea glanced over with a frown and promptly wrapped his own arm around Jade from the other side.

Their arms overlapped across Jade’s shoulders.

King surreptitiously pulled Jade closer to his side.

Uea did the same.

It quickly devolved into a see-saw tug-of-war, with P’Jade caught in the middle—happily swaying from side to side with the music.

King and Uea caught each other’s eyes over the top of Jade’s head—

—and then, as one, looked down at him.

Suddenly, they both burst out laughing.

King laughed until tears rolled down his face.

Beside him, Jade had finished his song and was now looking between them, demanding to know what was so funny.

Uea had collapsed back onto the couch, clutching his stomach as he laughed.

“What is it? Come on, guys, tell me!” P’Jade whined, tugging at King’s sleeve and Uea’s pant leg in turn.

“Nothing, nothing,” King gasped.

Still laughing, he straightened and reached over to pat Jade on the shoulder.

“Go on, pick another song.”

P’Jade frowned suspiciously, but got up anyway.

As soon as he left, King reached across the empty space on the couch.

Uea met him halfway.

Their fingers intertwined.

“Peace,” Uea said between lingering giggles.

“Peace,” King echoed, snorting as another laugh escaped him. “But no more tempeh.”

“Deal.”

And so, a truce was called.

And Jade never found out how close he had come to becoming a latchkey kid.