Chapter Text
The dark surface of Chao Phraya River reflects the city’s glittering skyline, turning the water into a ribbon of gold and silver. Round tables draped in ivory linen are scattered through the Mandarin Oriental garden. Soft murmurs drifted through air accompanied by the distant melody of violin. Today is the ruby anniversary of Mr. And Mrs. Buayoi.
Namping used to be intimidated in parties like these, he used to stop at the 10ft tall ballroom entrance taking one deep breath as a reminder to not fuck it up. But that was three years ago, when he was still that naive 24 year old boy, he was just Harit Buayoi’s secretary who agreed to the ever so ingenious idea of having a pretend relationship with his boss.
Now, the distinction feels far less clean. Namping walks gracefully, with every step like he owns the place. His satin blouse that subtly shimmers beneath the overhead lights, paired with tailored brown trousers that fell neatly within his shoes. His posture was poised, and his expression composed. He is confident in a way that had been learned, then refined, until it no longer felt like a performance.
In his defense, it's to make it more realistic, because there’s no way that anyone would believe that the boyfriend of the Golden Boy Harit Buayoi cannot carry himself with at least a little confidence.
“There you are sweetheart! I was about to scold that boy, how dare he let you come here alone.”
Mrs. Ranrida Buayoi was someone Namping used to be scared of. When the act was just starting, he felt like he was always watched by the women’s sharp eyes. She has the same effortless authority as Harit, except she smiles more, somehow making her more intimidating. But as he learned how to please the Madame, that fear had long disappeared.
“It’s okay Mae I insisted.” He smiled sweetly as the woman leaned in to hug him.“Happy Anniversary to you and Por” he handed her a red box draped with white ribbon.
Mrs. Buayoi smiled warmly as she accepted the gift, fingers brushing over the white ribbon,
“You really didn’t have to.” She said softly. “Thank you.”
Namping smiled warmly. Before he could even reply, the woman looped her arm through his. “Harit’s with his Por talking about whatever, you know them.” She began steering him across the garden before he could even protest. “I bet you still haven’t eaten, I’ll bring you to our table.”
Namping already knows where this is going.
They walked towards a table with familiar faces,and the moment they spotted him, their faces lit up.
“There he is!” One auntie called out. “Our favorite nephew-in-law.”
Namping smiled and pressed his palms together in a polite wai.
“Sawasdee khrap.” Namping laughed as he returned their greetings, leaning down to hug a few of them. “Namping, darling, you look handsome as always.” Aunt Malee said. “Everytime I see you, you look more expensive.”
Namping smiled shyly as he sat down while the table burst into laughter. Mrs. Buayoi immediately took the empty seat beside him and called a server.
The woman reached for Namping’s hand and squeezed it lightly. “You’re describing him like a handbag.” Mrs. Buayoi said. “Though he is way prettier than most handbags.” That set the table off again.
“Mae” Namping protested, covering half of his face in embarrassment.
One of Harit’s uncles patted his shoulder “Look at him getting embarrassed after all these years.”
Namping silently offered a quick prayer when the server came right in time bringing him plates of carefully curated dishes, before the conversation piles up like they always did whenever he entered the orbit of the Buayoi family.
“Here, I know how you loved these Luk” As a plate of prawns wrapped in thin, crispy noodles was placed in front of him.
“Thank you Mae.” Mrs. Buayoi offered him a warm smile as a reply.
But his enjoyment in savoring his favorite Goong Sarong was cut short as a new topic was again stirred around the table.
“Darling, you know, I still can’t believe you manage to keep up with Harit at work.” One of the Auntie’s commented, shifting the energy at the table. Once again eyes were at him, all with renewed curiosity. ”Being his secretary must be exhausting.”
Namping exhaled a small laugh.
“Well, sometimes,” he answered.
“I hope he’s not overworking you, or else that boy would have an earful from me.” Mrs. Buayoi worriedly held his arm.
“It’s okay Mae, it’s my job.” He replied politely, smiling towards the woman.
“Harit just always seems so busy you know, thankfully he managed to keep you, you’re kind, you’re thoughtful, and unlike certain people, you actually answer your phone.” The woman continued, sulking and at the same time acting like a proud mother showing off.
“But at least, he wasn’t too busy to find a boyfriend this beautiful.” An uncle added, making the table dissolve into laughter.
Mrs. Buayoi looked positively delighted. “It’s true, do you know what my friends always ask me?”
Namping already knew this wouldn’t end well.
“They would ask where I found you.” Her gaze on him was soft. “They think he’s too good to be real. Sometimes I wonder if Harit hired an actor.”
He let out a nervous chuckle. Well, technically…
Luckily the conversation shifted to a different topic.
And unfortunately it’s a topic that he should have seen coming.
“So” Aunt Malee began casually.
Namping instantly became suspicious.
“It’s been what? Three years, right dear?”
Here it is. Namping could feel a clump forming in his stomach. He doesn’t know whether it is the pasta or the direction where this conversation is going. He reached towards a glass of champagne hoping to divert his nervousness.
“You know, the two of you spend everyday together and look very much in love, so we are all wondering.” Aunt Malee paused. Oh how he wishes she would not continue.
“When are you two getting engaged.” Namping nearly dropped his glass. “Excuse me?!” he nearly choked on air.
“It’s a fair question, dear” She said, completely unbothered.
Namping looked towards Mrs. Buayoi, who was smiling like she had been waiting for this exact moment all evening.
“I have been wondering too, we keep telling Keng, me and his Por are getting old.” Mrs. Buayoi squeezed Namping’s hand affectionately. “And if he let this one go, I’ll disown him.”
Namping didn’t know what to say. Not because he didn’t know the answer but because he wasn’t sure what answer he was supposed to give.
Three years ago, their relationship had started as an arrangement. Harit needs someone to help him stop his parents from pestering him to date and Namping didn’t want to let the good pay pass, because how hard could it be to act like a couple in front of people.
It was a lie carefully constructed. A deal that benefits them mutually.
Before he could say a word, a familiar voice interrupted.
“Babe,you’re here.” The soft roll of their designated endearment, a gentle kiss landed on his cheek and an arm draped in his shoulder. Namping froze in his seat. Harit leaned into his ears “You okay?” That simple question made Namping unexpectedly aware of how close Harit was.
Too close.
Close enough to catch the smell of his cologne.
Three years ago everything was easy to brush off, but now?
Now it was impossible to separate the performance from reality, because somewhere along the way, pretending had become second nature. And he’s scared that some feelings will no longer be pretend at all.
“I’m fine,” Namping replied. And looked back to the figure standing behind him.
As always Harit looked unfairly perfect. The warm light made him look more dashing in his charcoal suit matching his perfectly composed expression.
Harit stepped beside Namping’s chair fixing some strands of his hair.
The gesture was casual. Natural. The kind of thing a boyfriend would do without thinking, yet Namping felt every point of contact.
“What did I walk into?” Harit's gaze moved across the table, everyone was staring, even his Por that just got seated was already looking at them with a wide smile.
“We were discussing your engagement” Harit stopped and his gaze shifted toward Namping.
Namping looked away, suddenly the centerpiece looked interesting and worth analyzing.
“Mae” Harit sighed.
“What? Have you not talked about it?”
Neither of them answered, which only made things worse. Everyone at the table noticed immediately. Then Harit decided to clear his throat. A rare occurrence. Everyone noticed that too.
“Have you two actually discussed it?” Mrs. Buayoi asked with full of hope.
Every eye was on them watching every movement like a predator watching its prey. Then Harit glanced at Namping. It was a brief look, but it was enough for everyone in that table to lose their minds.
“YOU HAVE, THEY HAVE” Aunt Malee clutched her chest dramatically.
“We have not” “We haven’t” They said at the same time which made it worse because apparently mutual denial is now a married behavior.
Namping wanted the earth to open beneath him. This was a mistake. Coming here was a mistake. Existing was a mistake.
Then Mrs. Buayoi reached over and rubbed his back. “Don’t worry sweetheart, we won’t pressure you.” and Namping nearly sighed in relief. “...too much”
Harit pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mae, can we please discuss literally anything else?”
“Harit, my love, I’m just saying that three years is a long time already, I have seen people get married after six months.” Namping bit the inside of his cheeks. Harit’s family was impossible.
Unfortunately Harit’s Por decided that he must join the fun. “Actually, the bigger question is whether Namping would even say yes to our son, Teerak.”
“Por!” Now Harit sounds like he’s full on whining.
“See?” Mr. Buayoi pointed at Harit with a smug triumph plastered on his face. “Even your reaction tells me I asked the correct question.”
Namping wishes that some magical river nymph would suddenly emerge from the water and just get him out of this situation.
Aunt Malee tilted her head thoughtfully. “Actually, If I were Namping I would make him work for it.”
“Exactly,” another aunt agreed. "At least three proposals.”
“Three?!”
“One local, one overseas, and one surprise proposal.”
Harit snorted. “That’s excessive auntie.”
Namping lowered his head. Maybe if he became invisible, they would move on. But there was no escaping because Mrs. Buayou turned towards him. “Namping, sweetheart, be honest” The dangerous words immediately made him nervous.
“If Harit proposed tomorrow, what would you say?” Both of them froze. It was a simple, ridiculous and harmless question. The answer should have been easy. Three years ago it would have been easy. Back then Harit was simply his boss, an annoying workaholic with impossible standards and a persistent parents. A man that put an absurd preposition on the table over coffee that he absent mindedly volunteered to.
Just pretend to be my boyfriend. Just until my parents stop asking and somehow here they are.
Harit must have sensed his discomfort and before he could force out an answer, Harit stood.
“That’s enough, I’m taking him away from all of you.” The table immediately protested. “Namping haven’t even eaten dessert yet, Luk”
“You always leave when the conversation gets interesting.”
“Because your conversations are terrifying.” Harit reached for his wrist. Not roughly. Not urgently. Just enough to pull his attention away from the interrogation.
“Come on.”
Namping blinked. “Where are we going?”
“Anywhere that isn’t this table.” Everyone laughed, while Harit’s parents looked suspiciously pleased
Namping stood, and Harit unconsciously reached for his hand, intertwining their fingers. He glanced at Harit. Harit glanced at him. And for a brief second,their eyes met. Why the hell is his heart beating so hard?
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
The night air was noticeably cooler outside the garden. The sound of the celebration becomes softer as they take every step away from the bright lights.
And for the first time that evening, Namping could breathe normally. Things felt quiet. Comfortable.
“Sorry.”
Namping looked up brows furrowing. “For what exactly?”
“My family.”
Namping smiled. “You apologize for them every time.”
“Well, because they deserve it every time.” That made Namping laugh. The sound echoed softly beneath the trees.
Harit’s gaze lingered on Namping for a moment longer than necessary.
It was annoying. Extremely annoying that after all these years of working together somehow Harit still finds himself looking.
They walked outside a little longer with no one daring to fill the silence in. Then a thunder rumbled in the sky and the clouds gathered overhead, dark and heavy.
Harit was the first to break the silence. “I should bring you home, I’ll call P’ Yod to fetch us, let’s wait at the lobby.”
“I can manage to go home,P’Keng” The nickname rolled from his tongue naturally. Not a lot of people have the privilege to call their boss with their childhood nickname like that, but for the sake of this act, the way they address each other has to feel natural, close, and intimate. Everything for this damn act to be believable enough to fool anyone watching.
“I let you come here alone Ping, what do you think Mae would do to me if she learned that I let you go home alone this late?”
“Mae wouldn’t know.”
“You don’t know Ping, she has her eyes everywhere.” That made Namping laugh. The corner of Harit’s mouth lifted.
The thunder rumbled again somewhere in the distance. Namping thought for a while. If he would insist on coming home by himself, it would probably take him an eternity. The Bangkok traffic partnered with rain is something you don’t want to face after you just got interrogated by half the family of your fake boyfriend. So, he surrendered.
“Fine, who am I to refuse a free ride.”
“I’m calling P’ Yod.”
“You know, you really don’t need to do this.”
“I know.” Harit didn’t even look up from his screen.
“Then why are you doing it?” The question made Harit pause, even just for a second, Namping noticed.
The answer should have been simple. Because my mother would kill me. Because it’s late. Because it will probably rain. There are plenty of answers to choose from, yet for some reason Harit looked as though he was sorting through all of them before choosing one.
“Because I worry.” Harit blurted out unconsciously. The words landed between them with surprising weight. Namping blinked. Harit seemed to realize it now because his expression tightened.
“What I mean is, you know, we still have work tomorrow and if you’ll get stuck on traffic you’ll get home late, then you’ll be so tired and you know what if—”
“It’s okay P’ Keng I get what you mean.” Namping smiled. That made Harit feel relieved. But a strange feeling remained, because for one brief second, before all those excuses arrived, Namping could have sworn Harit had meant exactly what he said. Because I worry. Nothing more. Nothing less.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
By the time they settled inside the car, the first raindrop landed against the hood of the car, then suddenly the sky opened and the city beyond became blurred by the streaks of the rain. Namping watched the lights outside melt into reflections across the wet streets of Bangkok.
Then all things happened that night all came rushing back to his memory. The engagement questions, the teasing, the way Harit’s mother practically treated him like family. Namping has done this over and over, he has attended countless dinners, he has answered more than enough personal questions, and yet beneath all of it sat a strange ache. An uncomfortable awareness that he couldn’t quite shake.
Traffic worsened as the rain continued to pour. Cars crawled forward at a painful pace. Namping leaned his head back, the soft music from the radio mixed with the rhythm of the rain made his eyelids feel heavier. The warmth of the car didn’t help, neither did the glass of champagne he chugged out of pure embarrassment.
Namping let out a soft breath and close his eyes. Just for a moment, he told himself.
Without knowing beside him, Harit noticed it immediately. Not because he had been staring, but because he simply noticed things when it came to Namping. It had become an unfortunate habit.
He watched as Namping’s posture gradually relaxed. How the tension of his shoulder and his breathing evened out. The faint crease that usually sits between his brows smoothed away and his head tilted slightly towards the window.
Namping must’ve been so tired. Harit supposed anyone would be. The man practically lived at the office. Some days started before sunrise and will end long after everyone else has gone home. With how demanding his job was, and considering how he isn’t the easiest person to work for, it was a miracle Namping remained functional at all.
And that was only the professional side of things. There was also, everything else. The fake relationship. The constant balancing act of pretending they were a perfectly happy couple whenever someone associated with Harit's family is around.
Harit still remembered the first time he brought Namping for a family event. They spent the weekend curating the perfect love story to the smallest details in case someone would ask a question. At that time, it seemed like a simple solution to a complicated problem. It’s just one dinner, one evening of pretending. A harmless arrangement. But several years later, somehow, they are still doing it.
The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. How exactly had he convinced Namping to do any of this? Better yet, how had he convinced him to stay?
Namping showed up every morning, then every crisis was handled, every possible task somehow became possible, and every disaster was quietly solved before it could become a real problem. And when Harit needed a dutiful boyfriend for appearances’ sake, Namping somehow managed that too.
The realization settled warmly in Harit’s chest.
Then Namping’s head bumped lightly against the window. Harit’s mouth flattened with how uncomfortable the former’s position was. A few moments later, it happened again. Yet Namping remained asleep,
With a sigh, Harit leaned over and adjusted the seat slightly, hoping to save Namping from waking up with a sore neck. The gesture was meant to be simple, but unfortunately the universe had other plans.
The moment Harit’s finger brushed Namping’s shoulder, the sleeping man shifted. Then shifted again. The movement happened so quickly that Harit barely had time to process it. One moment Namping was leaning against the window, and the next he ended up resting squarely against Harit’s shoulder.
Outside, the rain continued to streak down the windows blurring the city lights. P’ Yod drove steadily through the evening traffic blissfully unaware of the crisis unfolding in the backseat.
Harit’s soul is about to leave his body. For several seconds, Harit simply sat there staring straight ahead while his brain was attempting to process what had just happened.
Beside him Namping settled comfortably. His head rested against Harit’s shoulder as though it belonged there. His breathing was slow and steady, his expression peaceful in a way that Harit rarely got to see. A few strands of his brown hair had fallen across his forehead.
Harit immediately looked away. This was ridiculous. Objectively speaking, there is nothing unusual about this situation. People fell asleep during car rides all the time. People leaned against each other all the time. There is no logical reason whatsoever for him to be acting like this, and yet suddenly he is hyper aware about everything.
The warmth of Namping’s shoulder against his arm. The faint scent of Namping’s sweet and warm perfume. The fact that every time the car hit a bump, Namping somehow managed to settle even more comfortably against him. Every small detail is impossible to ignore.
What made it worse is that he wasn’t trapped. The backseat was spacious enough that he could easily shift away if he wanted to. He could move a few inches to the side and create some distance to put an end to this internal crisis immediately. But the fact that he didn’t was something he chose to ignore, instead he remained exactly where he was. Not because he wanted to of course. Certainly not because he wanted to. Moving would wake Namping up. That’s all.
At least that’s what he says to himself repeatedly for the next thirty-six minutes.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
By the time the car pulled into the driveway of Namping’s home, the rain had softened into a light drizzle. The city felt quieter now, as though even city had finally decided to go to sleep
For the first time, Harit allowed himself to move. He glanced down carefully. Namping was still asleep. Of course he was. Harit stared at him for a moment, equal parts impressed and offended. The man had spent the entire ride unconscious while Harit was left to deal with emotional battle all to himself.
“Ping.” He softly called. Nothing.
“Namping we’re here.” A faint sound escaped Namping, somehow between hum and a complaint.
“Namping.” This time dark eyes blinked open. Slowly and reluctantly. For several seconds, Namping simply stared ahead, visibly struggling to reconnect with reality. His gaze wandered around the car as though he couldn’t quite remember where he was or how he’d gotten there. His expression was unfocused, softened by sleep.
Then his eyes landed on Harit, and awareness arrived all at once. Namping blinked. He looked down. Looked at himself. He looked at Harit’s shoulder. Then he looked at the hand currently resting against Harit’s arm.
The silence that followed was extraordinary.
“Khor thot! I fell asleep!” Namping sat up straight in a bolt and straightened his posture.
Harit nodded. “We’re here.”
Namping looked outside and closed his eyes. Color immediately rushed into Namping’s face. His ears turned red first, and then his cheeks. Then, somehow, his entire existence.
Namping hurriedly gathered his things and reached for the door handle. He pushed it open and sat up too quickly, bumping his head against the car roof.
“Are you o—” Harit asked with concern in his voice, but before he could finish, the door slammed shut with a loud thud. “—kay,” he muttered under his breath.
The door opened again almost immediately, Namping pressed his palms together in apology and gave a small bow of his head. “Khor thot khrap, Phi.” Then Namping turned to the driver “Khop khun khrap P’ Yod.” who then nodded in return.
Namping glanced back towards Harit and opened his mouth, then closed it again, as if reconsidering. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
“Goodnight P’ Keng, see you tomorrow,” He said instead. He shut the door behind him and headed towards the house with as much dignity as someone could reasonably possess after accidentally sleeping on their boss for nearly forty minutes.
Harit watched until he disappeared, only letting out a quiet breath as he leaned back in his seat as the car drove away.
⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯.
The moment Namping stepped through his front door, he had almost convinced himself he was perfectly fine. The evening was over. Nothing catastrophic had happened and he had simply fallen asleep like normal people. That was all.
But he was betrayed the second the door closed behind him. His brain decided to replay the entire evening in perfect detail. He stood there for a moment and stared blankly at the wall.
The worst part in all of these wasn’t even waking up on Harit’s shoulder. The worst part was realizing Harit had known the entire time. Namping groaned and dropped his forehead lightly against the wall, but it offered no comfort. It didn’t even try.
With a sigh, he pushed himself upright and walked towards the living room . The house was unusually quiet. The television that had been playing earlier was gone now, leaving only the soft sound of rain against the windows. Good. Everyone is asleep, meaning nobody would witness the personal crisis currently unfolding.
Unfortunately, his brain must be playing with him, because the silence only made a fresh wave of embarrassment wash over him. Namping began pacing. He started to actively argue with himself. “No, this did not happen” “Don’t mind it, you were tired and you didn’t know.” He spoke as he paced around the living room. He would surely remember this night again at the most random moments in most random places and perish on the spot.That thought made him groan.
“Who are you talking to?”
Namping nearly launched himself to the ceiling. He spun around so quickly he nearly tripped over a firetruck lying near the sofa. A figure stood in the doorway. Tall. Motionless. Wearing a white sheet mask. For one horrifying second, Namping was convinced a ghost had broken into his house.
Then the figure spoke.
“Why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” His younger brother blinked underneath the face mask.
Namping pressed a hand against his chest. “Otto, what the hell?!”
“What?”
“Why are you standing there like a cursed ghost?”
Otto touched his face, “It’s skincare.”
“You look like you just crawled out of a well”
Otto looked fully offended, “You’re the one here talking to a lamp, that’s more concerning.
“I was not,” He defended.
“Oh you absolutely were.”
Namping opened his mouth, then closed it. Otto’s eyes narrowed and crossed his arms. Namping immediately regretted everything.
“Hmm what happened.” Otto seemed delighted, far too delighted for his liking.
“Nothing happened.”
“You’re literally negotiating with furniture, and pacing around the living room like you are trying to solve a murder, and nothing happened!?” Namping couldn’t utter a reply. He closed his eyes. He had, unfortunately, done exactly that.
“Can you lower your voice? Santi might wake up.” Namping said, wishing to divert the conversation into something else.
“Phi, Santi is dead asleep, he spent all afternoon acting like an ancient dinosaur that breathes fire. Now tell me, is this about Khun Harit?” Otto smirked as he dropped into the sofa studying his older brother for a few seconds.
Namping felt an immediate dread,”No, it isn’t.”
“Oh my god It is, you are wearing that expression again.” His brother pointed triumphantly.
Namping brow furrowed,” What expression?”
“The one you make when Khun Harit does something and then you spend the next week pretending it didn’t affect you.” What the hell does that mean? He doesn’t have a “Harit does something and that sent me spiralling” face. Of course he does not, why would he?
Namping stared at him. His brother stared back, then very slowly, a grin spread across Otto’s face.
“Oh, that’s bad.” The grin widened.
“What is?”
“You don’t even know you’re doing it.” Namping suddenly understood why older siblings had occasionally committed acts of violence.
“Go to bed.” Namping closed his eyes firmly and massage the bridge of his nose.
Otto let out the cheekiest laugh.
“Phi, you’re blushing.”
“Otto, go to bed.” His voice now threatening while he takes a hold of the poor bunny ears of a duck plushie.
“I just know something happened between that party and the ride home.” The silence that followed answered the assumption far more effectively than words ever could. Otto doubled over laughing. Namping is now holding the plushie through the air.
“P’ Namping and Khun Harit sitting on a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G.” Otto teased in the most annoying tone to ever exist in the bane of humanity as he started to walk towards the stairs.
“Lock your room, brat.” Namping let out an irritated groan and suddenly a thirty-centimeter duck with bunny ears came flying across the room.
As Otto wandered upstairs, probably still laughing leaving Namping motionless in the living room.
Tomorrow will be fine. It would be like any other day. He would go to work, he would act normal, Harit would act normal. Everything would be normal.
Then his phone vibrated through his pocket. A message from the person he didn’t really want to receive a text from. From Harit.
Goodnight. See you tomorrow.
Namping stared at the screen. He calmly lowered his phone onto the coffee table. He lay down his face on a pillow and let out a scream.