Chapter Text
North knew something was wrong when Johan asked if he had his umbrella for the third time.
The first time was normal.
Johan liked weather apps too much. North had accepted this about him the same way he had accepted Johan’s frighteningly organized sock drawer, his expensive coffee machine that looked like it could operate on its own, and his habit of checking restaurant exits before sitting down.
The second time was annoying but still acceptable because the sky outside did look grey.
The third time made North stop in the middle of the living room with one shoe on, one shoe still missing, and stare at his boyfriend.
“P’Johan.”
Johan looked up from his phone. He was standing beside the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee in one hand and North’s folded umbrella in the other, looking calm in the way that usually meant he had already imagined three disasters and solved two of them.
“Yes?”
“I am going downstairs.”
“It may rain.”
“I am going to the lobby first.”
“The drop-off area can get slippery.”
“I’m not crossing a mountain.”
“You walked into a glass door last month.”
North opened his mouth, closed it, then pointed at him. “That was one time.”
“You were texting.”
“I was answering you.”
Johan did not look guilty. That was the problem with Johan. Sometimes guilt passed through his face like a visitor who had the wrong address and immediately left.
From the sofa, Easter made a small sound into his iced drink.
North turned. “Don’t laugh. Your boyfriend probably tracks your vitamin intake.”
Easter lowered the cup slowly. “P’Hill does not track my vitamin intake.”
North stared at him.
Easter stared back.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table.
Both of them looked down.
Easter picked it up, unlocked it, read the message, and immediately tried to make his face normal. Which was useless, because Easter’s normal face was too pretty and too suspicious.
North narrowed his eyes. “What did P’Hill say?”
“Nothing.”
“Read it.”
“No.”
“Easter.”
Easter sighed like someone being unfairly attacked inside another person’s luxury apartment. Then he held up his phone.
Hill: Did you bring a jacket? The place may be cold.
North threw one hand up. “See?”
Easter’s ears went a little pink. “It’s not the same.”
“It is exactly the same.”
“No, P’Hill is just thoughtful.”
“Johan is holding an umbrella like he’s about to hand me survival equipment.”
Johan, still holding the umbrella, said, “You also forgot your portable charger.”
North turned back to him slowly.
Johan placed a small black power bank beside North’s bag.
“And your wallet is on the dining table.”
Another item appeared.
“And your medicine is still in the bedroom.”
North blinked.
Johan added, “Not urgent medicine. Just the one you said you might need if your stomach hurts after eating spicy food.”
Easter looked delighted. He was trying very hard not to, but his mouth was betraying him.
North pointed at him again. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You smiled.”
“I have a face, North.”
“You have a traitor face.”
Johan moved past them toward the bedroom before North could stop him. His house slippers made almost no sound on the floor. Rich people slippers. Even the slippers were quiet.
North bent down to look under the coffee table for his missing shoe. “I’m going out for, what, three hours? Four?”
“Five if traffic is bad,” Easter said.
“Why would you say that in front of him?”
Easter winced. “Sorry.”
From the bedroom, Johan called out, “Do you want the driver?”
“No!”
“You don’t have to take him all the way. He can drop you at—”
“P’Johan, I am meeting our friends to buy food for dinner, not fleeing the country.”
There was a brief pause.
Then Johan said, “That depends on who is driving.”
North grabbed his shoe and nearly hit his head on the coffee table. “I heard that.”
“You were meant to.”
Easter finally laughed.
North turned to glare at him, but it was hard to stay annoyed when Easter was sitting cross-legged on the sofa in a cream cardigan that looked too soft for the weather, cheeks rounded slightly around the straw of his drink, eyes bright with the particular joy of watching someone else get fussed over.
“You are enjoying this too much,” North said.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I am only observing.”
“That’s worse. You’re becoming P’Hill.”
Easter gasped, offended for maybe two seconds before his phone buzzed again.
North’s eyes dropped to it.
Easter snatched it up. “Stop looking.”
“Another jacket message?”
“No.”
“What then?”
Easter read it, smiled softly despite himself, and that made North groan because no one should be that fond over a simple text message. It was unfair to everyone else in the room.
“It says to remind you not to let Daotok carry heavy things,” Easter admitted.
North stared at him. “P’Hill texted you to remind me?”
“He knows you will say yes to everything and then complain later.”
“I do not.”
Johan walked back in with North’s medicine in his palm. “You do.”
North looked at the ceiling. “I live with enemies.”
“You live with me,” Johan said.
“That’s what I said.”
Johan’s mouth moved slightly. It wasn’t fully a smile, but North had learned Johan’s tiny face changes after living together. That one meant amused. Also maybe pleased. Johan was very hard to read for normal people, which was why North considered himself advanced.
The doorbell rang before North could complain more.
“Saved,” North said, and hurried toward the door with only one shoe properly tied.
Johan looked down. “Your shoelace.”
North stopped dead.
Behind him, Easter whispered, “Oh no.”
North turned around slowly. “Do not.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You looked at it.”
“It is untied.”
“It has been untied before.”
“And you almost fell before.”
“I tripped over a chair leg.”
“You were walking.”
“The chair attacked me.”
Johan’s expression stayed calm. Too calm.
North pointed at him. “Do not bend down.”
Johan looked at him.
North looked back.
The doorbell rang again.
North said, “I swear if you kneel in front of this door to tie my shoe, I will move out for ten minutes.”
Johan’s eyebrows lifted. “Only ten?”
“Fifteen if you make me really mad.”
Easter covered his mouth with his hand.
North tied his own shoelace with unnecessary violence, then opened the door.
Daotok stood outside with a tote bag in one hand and a packet of something sweet in the other. Typhoon was beside him, already smiling like he had heard half the conversation through the door. Nao stood behind them, looking down at his phone with an expression North recognized too well.
That was the expression of someone receiving a boyfriend text.
North stepped aside. “Come in before P’Johan checks your blood pressure.”
Johan said, “I have never done that.”
“You thought about it.”
“Not today.”
“See?”
Daotok entered first, blinking slowly at them. He looked comfortable in that soft, slightly faraway way he had, like he might notice a ghost in the corner or he might just be thinking about dessert. With Daotok, both were possible.
“P’Arthit asked if this apartment has many corners,” Daotok said.
Everyone went quiet.
North closed the door. “Why?”
Daotok looked at his phone again. “He said ghosts like corners.”
Easter made a small choking sound. “In Johan’s apartment?”
“I told him this apartment is too expensive for ghosts to stay without permission.”
Johan’s face did something strange. “Thank you.”
Daotok nodded politely, as if he had done Johan a favor in front of the supernatural rental market.
Typhoon laughed under his breath. “P’Fah would say ghosts are also people and we shouldn’t judge their housing situation.”
“P’Fah texted you too?” North asked immediately.
Typhoon’s smile froze for just a second. “No.”
Nao looked up from his phone. “Liar.”
Typhoon coughed. “He only asked if I ate.”
“Only,” North repeated.
Typhoon lifted his phone like evidence he did not want to provide but had accepted he must.
Tonfah: Did you eat before going? If not, please buy something small first. Also drink water. You forget when you are busy.
Typhoon’s thumb hovered over the screen. “It’s normal.”
North looked at him.
Typhoon looked away.
Nao’s phone buzzed again.
This time everyone turned to him.
Nao sighed. “Don’t start.”
North smiled slowly. “Tiger?”
“No.”
His phone buzzed again.
Nao closed his eyes. “Okay, yes.”
Easter leaned forward. “What did he say?”
Nao showed them with the tiredness of someone who had lost this battle many times.
Tiger: Location.
North blinked. “That’s all?”
Nao scrolled. “Before that he sent, ‘where.’ Then when I didn’t answer in eight seconds, he sent, ‘Nao.’ Then location.”
Easter pressed his lips together.
Typhoon’s shoulders shook.
Daotok said, very gently, “Tiger writes like a door closing.”
Nao pointed at him. “Exactly. Thank you.”
North turned around and looked at Johan.
Johan was watching all of them with a neutral face, but North knew him. That man was collecting information. Johan collected information the way other people collected keychains.
“No,” North said.
Johan looked at him. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought something.”
“I think many things.”
“That’s the problem.”
Nao dropped onto the sofa beside Easter and started typing. “I’m sending him a picture of your living room. Maybe he will relax.”
North snorted. “Tiger? Relax?”
Nao stopped typing, considered it, then said, “Good point,” and put the phone face down.
Daotok sat on the floor near the coffee table because of course he did. Johan’s living room had an expensive sofa, two armchairs, and a dining chair nearby, but Daotok always chose the floor like gravity had invited him personally.
Johan noticed. “There is a chair.”
Daotok looked up. “I know.”
“You can sit on it.”
“I know.”
North grabbed his bag and whispered loudly to Easter, “Do you think P’Johan is offended on behalf of the furniture?”
Easter whispered back, also loudly, “A little.”
Johan said, “I can hear both of you.”
“Good,” North said. “Then hear this. We need to leave soon or we’ll be late.”
“You still haven’t answered about the driver,” Johan said.
All five of them groaned at once.
It was not planned. That was what made it perfect.
Johan paused.
North slowly turned to the group. “Did you all hear that? That was harmony. That was friendship.”
Typhoon raised one hand. “I think I was more sighing.”
“Still counts.”
Easter stood and started gathering the shopping list from the table. It was written in North’s messy handwriting and Johan’s cleaner additions. At least three items had question marks after them because no one could agree on how much food was enough for ten people.
North had written snacks.
Johan had added: What kind?
North had written: fun ones.
Johan had added: Please specify.
North had then drawn a very ugly angry face.
Johan had not removed it.
That was love, probably.
“Okay,” Easter said, scanning the list. “We need drinks, vegetables, meat, dessert, and snacks. Many snacks.”
“Some snacks,” Johan corrected.
North pointed at the kitchen cabinet. “P’Johan, you panic-bought six kinds of chips last week because I said I was bored.”
“You ate them.”
“That is not the point.”
“It is related.”
North walked to the kitchen, opened one cabinet, and gestured dramatically.
Everyone looked.
It was full.
Not just normal full. Johan-full. Neat rows of chips, seaweed, cookies, instant noodles, little cakes, dried fruit, and one suspiciously fancy chocolate North had said looked interesting once at a shop and then forgot about.
Nao stood up slowly. “Oh.”
Typhoon leaned closer. “That is… organized.”
Daotok tilted his head. “It looks like a small convenience store.”
Easter smiled. “P’Johan, do you have a membership card?”
Johan looked at North. “You said you like having choices.”
North put both hands on his hips. “You know what? All of you need a support group.”
Johan blinked.
Easter’s smile dropped. “North.”
North was already pointing around the room, warming up too fast to stop. “A boyfriend support group. Somewhere you can all sit in a circle and say, ‘Hi, my name is Johan, and I panic-buy my boyfriend snacks.’”
Johan said, very calmly, “I do not panic-buy.”
North pointed into the cabinet.
Johan said nothing.
Nao laughed so hard he bent forward. Typhoon tried to hide his smile behind his hand and failed. Daotok looked into the cabinet again, perhaps checking for ghosts or perhaps deciding what snack to steal. Easter whispered, “North, maybe don’t give him ideas.”
Too late.
Johan’s face had changed.
Not much. Just a small shift in his eyes, like someone had placed a file on his mental desk.
North immediately regretted everything.
“Oh no,” Easter said.
Johan looked at North. “Support group?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I said nothing.”
“You said I need a support group.”
“I said it with love.”
“That does not make it less concerning.”
North grabbed his bag from the dining chair. “It was a joke.”
Johan looked like he was already mentally choosing a date, time, and location.
North pointed at him. “Do not make it a meeting.”
“I didn’t say I would.”
“You went quiet.”
“I am often quiet.”
“Not like that. That was business quiet.”
Johan’s mouth twitched.
Typhoon leaned toward Nao and whispered, “Business quiet?”
Nao whispered back, “Rich people warning sign, I think.”
Daotok, still looking at the snack cabinet, said, “If there is a meeting, will there be these?”
North turned. “Dao, don’t encourage him.”
Daotok held up a packet of seaweed. “I am only asking for future planning.”
Easter took the packet from him and put it back. “No stealing from the emotional support cabinet.”
North stared at the cabinet. “Please don’t call it that.”
“It is too late,” Typhoon said softly.
Johan placed the folded umbrella into North’s bag.
North looked down. “P’Johan.”
“What?”
“I said I don’t need it.”
“And I heard you.”
“You still put it in.”
“I also heard the weather forecast.”
North wanted to argue. He really did. But Johan’s expression was doing that annoying thing again, the soft one underneath the calm one. The one that said he was not trying to win. He just wanted North dry and not slipping on stupid lobby tiles and not having stomach pain because he ate something too spicy while laughing with friends.
North hated that he understood him now. It made arguing harder.
So he huffed and zipped the bag. “Fine. But if it doesn’t rain, I’m making you say sorry to my shoulder for carrying extra weight.”
Johan nodded seriously. “I will apologize.”
“You have to mean it.”
“I usually do.”
North’s mouth betrayed him and almost smiled. He turned away before Johan could look too pleased.
Easter came to stand beside him, list in hand. “Are we ready?”
“No,” Johan said.
Everyone groaned again.
Johan ignored them and looked at North. “Phone?”
North lifted it.
“Wallet?”
North lifted that too.
“Medicine?”
North patted the pocket Johan had put it in.
“Charger?”
North lifted the power bank with two fingers. “Evidence of harassment.”
“Umbrella?”
“In the bag, against my will.”
“Shoelace?”
North lifted one foot. “Tied. Are you happy?”
Johan looked down, then nodded. “Yes.”
Nao looked at Easter. “Does P’Hill do this?”
Easter hesitated.
That was enough.
North laughed. “He does.”
“He doesn’t make a checklist,” Easter protested.
“He has one in his head.”
Easter had no defense for that.
Typhoon’s phone buzzed again.
He looked down and smiled before he could stop himself.
North saw it. “P’Fah?”
Typhoon slipped the phone halfway into his pocket. “He asked if we need help carrying things later.”
Nao’s phone buzzed too.
He didn’t even look at it. “Tiger says don’t carry heavy things.”
“How do you know without reading?”
“It’s Tiger.”
Daotok’s phone buzzed next. He read it, then blinked.
“What?” Easter asked.
“P’Arthit says if the shop has salt, buy salt.”
North stared. “Why?”
Daotok’s face stayed perfectly calm. “He says for cooking. Then he sent another message saying maybe also spiritually.”
Johan looked genuinely disturbed for the first time that morning.
North pointed at Daotok. “No salt unless it is for food.”
Daotok nodded.
Another message came in.
Daotok read it. “He says okay, but maybe coarse salt.”
Easter gave up and started laughing.
North took the shopping list from him because if Easter kept laughing, they would never leave. “Okay, we really need to go. Otherwise the surprise dinner will become surprise supper.”
Johan looked at him.
North froze.
Then he pointed again. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were about to.”
“I was not.”
“You were going to ask if we need help.”
Johan looked mildly offended. “I was going to say enjoy yourself.”
North blinked.
The room went quiet for half a second.
Then Nao whispered, “Oh, that’s worse.”
North kicked lightly backward at him without looking. “Shut up.”
Johan stepped closer and adjusted the strap of North’s bag where it had twisted near his shoulder. He did it without making a big thing of it, fingers quick and careful. North let him because it was not worth starting another argument, and also because he liked it. Annoyingly.
“Text me when you arrive,” Johan said.
“We’re going to the building lobby first.”
“Then text me when you get to the car.”
North stared.
Johan stared back.
North said, “I will send one emoji.”
“That is acceptable.”
“No, it isn’t,” Nao said. “Don’t negotiate with him, North.”
Typhoon opened the door. “Too late. They live together. Negotiations are probably daily.”
“Hourly,” Easter corrected.
North looked betrayed. “Why are all of you attacking me in my own home?”
“You invited us,” Daotok said.
“I invited you to help buy food, not witness my suffering.”
Johan picked up his mug at last. “You are not suffering.”
North leaned closer to Johan before stepping out. “I am suffering beautifully.”
Johan looked at him for one second too long.
Easter made a noise. “Please don’t flirt in the doorway. We have groceries to buy.”
North’s face went hot. “I wasn’t flirting.”
“You were,” Nao said.
“Badly,” Typhoon added, smiling.
Daotok said, “But with feeling.”
North pushed them all out before Johan could say anything that would make it worse.
They made it to the elevator without Johan following them.
That should have been a victory, but North knew better than to trust silence.
The elevator doors opened. They all stepped in. North pressed the button, then immediately looked at his phone.
No message.
Good.
He waited.
Still no message.
Strange.
By the time the elevator passed the eighth floor, North frowned.
Easter noticed because Easter noticed everything emotional if it was happening to someone else. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re checking if P’Johan texted.”
“No.”
Nao leaned against the elevator wall. “He didn’t?”
North glared. “Why do you sound surprised?”
“Because he is Johan.”
Typhoon’s smile softened. “Maybe he is trying to give you space.”
North’s frown deepened. “Why would he do that suddenly?”
Daotok looked up from his phone. “Because you said support group.”
Easter closed his eyes. “Oh no.”
North stared at the elevator doors. “No. He wouldn’t.”
Everyone went quiet.
Then, very slowly, all five of them looked at each other.
“He would,” Nao said.
North groaned and leaned his forehead against the elevator wall, then immediately lifted it again because the wall was cold and probably not clean. “I created a monster.”
“You live with him,” Typhoon said. “You already knew this.”
“That is not supportive.”
“We are not the support group,” Daotok said.
Easter started laughing again.
The elevator reached the lobby. North stepped out first, still looking at his phone like Johan might materialize through the screen.
One message finally arrived.
Johan: Take your time.
North stopped walking.
The others nearly bumped into him.
Easter peeked over his shoulder. “That’s nice.”
North narrowed his eyes. “It’s suspicious.”
Nao nodded. “Very.”
Typhoon tilted his head. “Or sweet.”
“It can be both,” Daotok said.
North typed back.
North: are you being normal or weird
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Johan: Define weird.
North made a wounded sound. “See? He’s doing something.”
Easter gently pulled him forward by the sleeve. “Come on. If we don’t leave now, P’Hill will start asking me if we need backup.”
As if summoned by the mention, Easter’s phone buzzed.
They all stopped again.
Easter looked at it, then sighed.
Hill: If you need help later, I can come.
North looked at him.
Easter put the phone away. “Don’t say it.”
“I’m not saying anything.”
“You are saying it with your face.”
“My face is correct.”
Typhoon’s phone buzzed.
Tonfah: No rush. Tell me if you get tired.
Typhoon read it twice. His thumb brushed the edge of the screen before he replied.
Nao’s phone buzzed.
Tiger: Car?
Nao muttered, “He’s asking if we’re in the car.”
North pointed at all of them while walking toward the entrance. “Support group. I was right.”
Daotok’s phone buzzed.
Arthit: Remember salt.
Daotok typed back with no change in expression.
North leaned over. “What are you saying?”
Daotok showed him.
Daotok: I remember you more than salt, P’Arthit.
North made a face. “That’s disgusting.”
Daotok looked pleased.
Easter smiled. “It’s sweet.”
“It can be both,” Typhoon said.
Nao nodded. “Like Johan.”
North pushed open the lobby door and decided he needed new friends.
Upstairs, Johan stood in the living room for almost a full minute after the door closed.
The apartment felt bigger without North in it. Not empty exactly. North’s shoes were still near the entrance, one pair crooked because he never put them straight. His half-finished drink sat on the coffee table. A throw pillow had fallen on the floor because North had kicked it earlier while looking for his shoe. There was a tiny crumb on the dining table from whatever snack he had eaten before breakfast and denied eating.
Johan looked at the crumb.
Then he looked at the umbrella missing from the counter because it was now in North’s bag.
That was good.
Probably.
He picked up the mug again, realized the coffee had gone cold, and set it down.
His phone buzzed.
For one ridiculous second, he thought it was North again.
It was Hill.
Hill: Easter left already?
Johan stared at the message.
Then another came in.
Arthit: Is Daotok with them? Please tell me he didn’t forget his phone this time.
Then Tonfah.
Tonfah: Typhoon is with North and the others, right? He said yes, but I want to make sure.
Then Tiger.
Tiger: Nao with North?
Johan looked at the four messages.
He looked at the snack cabinet, still open.
He looked at North’s ugly angry face drawn on the shopping list beside Johan’s neat handwriting.
A boyfriend support group, North had said.
Somewhere you can sit in a circle and say, Hi, my name is Johan, and I panic-buy my boyfriend snacks.
Johan did not panic-buy.
He bought in advance.
There was a difference.
His phone buzzed again.
North: are you being normal or weird
Johan replied after some thought.
Johan: Define weird.
North did not answer immediately, which meant he was either laughing, annoyed, or both.
Johan opened his contacts.
He did not overthink it. Overthinking was for people who were unsure. Johan was not unsure. He was simply exploring the practicality of an existing suggestion.
He created a group chat.
Johan named it: Support Group.
He added Hill.
He added Arthit.
He added Tonfah.
He added Tiger.
For twelve seconds, nobody said anything.
Then Tiger left the group.
Johan looked at the screen.
He added Tiger back.
Tiger left again.
Before Johan could add him for the third time, Hill did it.
Arthit: 5555555555
Tonfah: This is already going well.
Tiger: Stop.
Johan: This group is for coordination.
Arthit: Sure.
Hill: Dinner coordination?
Johan: Yes.
Tonfah: Then why is it called Support Group?
Johan looked at the name.
He considered changing it.
Before he could, Arthit changed the group name to Emotionally Unavailable Men Club.
Johan stared.
Hill: Arthit.
Arthit: What? Too accurate?
Tonfah changed it back to Support Group.
Tiger: I am leaving.
Johan: No.
Tiger: Watch me.
Tiger left the group.
Johan added him back.
For a moment, the chat was quiet again.
Then Hill sent one message.
Hill: Maybe we should first confirm what the partners are buying.
That was reasonable. Johan appreciated reasonable people.
Johan: North has the list.
Arthit: Does the list include salt?
Johan: Why?
Arthit: No reason.
Tonfah: That means there is a reason.
Tiger: This group is useless.
Johan looked at Tiger’s message and, despite himself, almost smiled.
Then North’s message came in privately.
North: if you made anything into a meeting, i will know
Johan looked at the group chat.
Then back at North’s message.
He typed carefully.
Johan: I have not made a meeting.
This was technically true.
There was no date.
No agenda.
No calendar invite.
Yet.
North replied with one sticker of a suspicious cat.
Johan stared at it for a long moment.
Then he saved it.
In the group chat, Arthit had sent three laughing stickers, Tonfah was asking whether everyone was free later, Hill was trying to make the conversation actually useful, and Tiger had gone silent in the way that suggested he had not left only because leaving had become too much effort.
Johan picked up North’s abandoned cup from the coffee table and carried it to the kitchen.
The apartment was quiet again, except for the soft buzzing of his phone.
Not danger. Not ghosts. Not anyone getting kidnapped, cursed, or dramatically injured.
Just five men with partners who had gone downstairs to buy food, and somehow all of them were acting like the world needed to be supervised until they came back.
Johan rinsed the cup, placed it on the drying rack, and looked at the group chat name again.
Support Group.
It was a bad name.
It was also North’s fault.
Johan decided to keep it.