Work Text:
Lunchtime at work used to be Barth’s favorite moment, not only because Tanrak’s food was delicious, but because there was always a piece of paper stuck to the lid of his tupperware with Tanrak’s beautiful handwriting that sometimes said a cute romantic phrase or said an «Eat well, my love» or «Don’t forget to eat lunch!», or «This person (me) is waiting to have dinner with you » or «I miss you, don’t overwork yourself» which made his coworkers roll their eyes at the huge smile that appeared on his face.
But that day was different.
Barth placed the cloth bag on top of the table and when he took out the plastic container, he turned it around three times and there was nothing, nor was there anything stuck to his thermos.
He opened the lid with a frown. Tanrak had prepared a pad see ew for him along with some spring rolls. The smell of the food was delicious and visually, it was a masterpiece, but Barth felt it was the start of a tragedy.
“I can’t believe it.” Barth grumbled to himself, poking a piece of pork with his fork dramatically.
«Did he run out of ink? No, impossible, he lives surrounded by pens. Did he forget? How do you forget to write to your boyfriend?», Barth thought, indignant.
Barth spent the entire lunch hour chewing with his gaze fixed on the tupperware lid as if a note were magically going to appear.
By the time his workday ended, Barth practically flew home and upon arriving, he walked in like a hurricane.
Tanrak, who was writing while sitting on the living room sofa, looked up with a smile.
“Barth…”
“You don’t love me anymore, Rak.” Barth interrupted him immediately, crossing his arms in the middle of the living room with a pout and furrowed eyebrows. “Admit it, you got bored of me. The love is over and you’re looking for a subtle way to kick me out of your life.”
Tanrak blinked a couple of times, confused, then tilted his head, analyzing the complaint before letting out a nasal laugh.
“What are you talking about?” Tanrak asked, leaving his notebook and pen on the table in front of him. “What happened?”
“The lunch note! That happened! Or rather, it didn’t happen!” Barth protested, approaching his boyfriend. “The food was delicious, perfect as always, but there was no paper. I spent the whole afternoon suffering, thinking about what I had done wrong. Is it because I ate the last piece of cake the other time? Or is it because I bit your thigh too hard last night? If it’s because of that, I apologize, but you can’t punish me by taking away your notes!”
Tanrak just stared at him with incredulity before starting to laugh at his boyfriend’s dramatic accusation.
“Barth, for God’s sake!” Tanrak said through laughs. “All this fuss is over a piece of paper?”
“It’s not a piece of paper, it’s my emotional sustenance.” Barth grumbled.
Barth dropped onto the sofa right next to Tanrak, forcing him to turn toward him, then opened Tanrak’s legs to fit his body into the space, dropped all his weight forward, and immediately wrapped his arms around his waist, clinging to him.
“And don’t laugh, Rak. It’s a serious matter.” Barth kept grumbling.
“You’re exaggerating.” Tanrak told him affectionately, placing his hands on Barth’s cheeks, then giving a short kiss to his boyfriend’s pout. “I just forgot to write it because this morning I was…”
“I don’t want to hear excuses.” Barth interrupted against his mouth, catching his lips before he could finish justifying himself, kissing him sweetly.
Barth pulled away, barely a little so as not to lose the warmth.
“It was a very grave case of negligence.” Barth murmured in a whisper, rubbing his nose against Tanrak’s.
“Oh, my poor boyfriend, he had to eat without a little note.” Tanrak mocked, his cheeks tinged a soft pink. “What a tragedy.”
“Don’t make fun of me.” Barth protested against his lips, stealing another kiss. “Do you know the social pressure I live under? I’m the youngest at work and those married men spend the day bragging about the lunches their wives prepare for them, but I always beat them!”
Tanrak laughed while caressing his cheekbones with his thumbs.
“Oh, really? You beat them, according to you?”
“I beat them at everything, Rak.” Barth assured. “My food always looked perfect, the aroma made everyone’s mouth water, and, most importantly, I had my notes! I rubbed it in their faces that my boyfriend writes beautiful things to me.”
Tanrak laughed again, throwing his head back, feeling Barth’s arms tighten a little more around his waist.
“I can’t believe you use my notes to compete with older men, Barth. Do you really go around bragging to them?”
“Of course! It’s my reputation that’s at stake.” Barth insisted with total seriousness. “Today they made fun of me. One told me: «What happened, Barth? Did your youthful romance already run out?». My pride is through the floor.”
Barth huffed.
“Besides, this affects not only my reputation, but also my professional future.”
“How?” Tanrak raised an eyebrow.
“Because, while your food feeds my body… your notes feed my soul, and if my soul isn’t fed, my brain doesn’t function at one hundred percent.” Barth murmured against his lips before kissing him softly. “And if it doesn’t function, I won’t be able to become a successful engineer in the future. How can I work without reading an «I miss you» or an «I love you» from you?”
Tanrak sighed softly.
“You are very cute.”
Barth let go of his boyfriend’s waist to gently bring down Tanrak’s hands that were still cradling his cheeks; then, he rested his cheek on Tanrak’s chest, hugging his waist again.
“Don’t try to win me over with compliments, Rak.” Barth grumbled, closing his eyes. “I demand immediate compensation.”
Tanrak shook his head while a bright smile illuminated his face. He sank his fingers into Barth’s strands, beginning to give him a gentle massage.
“Tomorrow I will write you a very, very long note. Satisfied?”
“I am satisfied.” He confirmed.
“A long note is a good start.” Barth murmured. “But to repair the damage to my reputation, I demand that tomorrow the note begins with a «To my future husband».”
“It’s not even legal…” He whispered while his hand slid down to caress his boyfriend’s cheek.
“It’s not legal yet, angel.” Barth corrected with conviction, turning his head to look at him. “Laws change, the world moves forward. And if we have to wait until we are two wrinkled old men, with canes and gray hair, I don’t care. The very day that law changes, I’m going to drag you by the arm to the civil registry to sign the papers, even if we are eighty years old and you complain that your knees hurt.”
Tanrak felt his chest fill with warmth and his cheeks turn from pink to red.
“You wouldn’t need to drag me anywhere, I would walk by your side.” Tanrak commented. “Though we would walk very slowly.”
“Although, thinking about it, that document is just a formality, because right here you are already mine.” Barth declared with a petulant tone. “And anyway, you already use my last name when you sign the community notes or when the school children call you «Mr. Tangwongwat». It looks beautiful on you, by the way. Tanrak Tangwongwat.”
The red color spread from Tanrak’s cheeks all the way to his ears.
“How shameless.”
“But you love me anyway.” Barth said, lying back down on Tanrak’s chest.
Tanrak smiled as he went back to playing with the hair of his boyfriend and future husband.