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“Which one’s a Monstera?”
That was definitely not the first thing Ray had planned to say on his first proper (read: relatively sober) visit to Sand’s apartment. He hadn’t planned on saying much at all when he’d managed to wheedle an invitation to follow Sand home after his set at YOLO.
The first time he’d been here he was too hungover, too anxious waking up in a stranger’s place again with no memory of how he got there to really notice his surroundings. This time he didn’t fail to notice the array of plants in the balcony, the huge potted plant in the living room, the tiny succulents dotting every flat surface. Vague flashes of memory reminded him of soft leaves brushing his sides when he was heaving in Sand’s toilet last time.
He had more plants than Mew.
Sand looked adorably bewildered at his odd line of questioning.
“I thought the plant thing was just a line,” Ray explained as he gently ran a finger down the leaves of a plant that was taller than him.
“Stalker,” Sand accused but there was no bite to it. If Ray didn’t know better he’d say Sand almost sounded fond, eyes lit up with a smile he was clearly suppressing.
Ray ambled to the balcony, taking stock of all the plants there as if the Monstera would magically gain sentience and announce itself. One end of the narrow space housed a tiered blue shelf full of tiny plants in tiny pots. None seemed to fit the name though.
Maybe it was the one with the big shiny leaves that looked strangely maroon on the underside.
“This one?” Ray asked, as good a guess as any.
Sand shook his head, his toothy smile finally breaking though and creasing his cheeks with dimples. Ray wanted to fit his thumbs into the little divots and press in.
“That’s a different type of philodendron,” Sand said.
“Right, that makes so much sense.”
That, at least, made Sand laugh. Cute.
Instead of pointing out the right plant, Sand disappeared down the hallway that most likely led to the bedrooms. Of course, Ray followed. They weren’t here to talk, he shouldn’t have assumed.
But when he walked into the bedroom he found Sand waiting with a small potted plant cradled in his hands. It didn’t look monstrous at all.
Just a few green leaves sticking out of a small earthen pot. As he moved closer Ray noticed the holes. Maybe the unusual leaves earned the poor plant its name but to Ray they just made the plant look that much more delicate and fragile. Something to protect, something to be careful with.
“Is it sick?” Ray felt an odd kinship with the little plant. Ridiculous.
“Nope.” Sand set the plant down on the windowsill. “They call it the Swiss cheese plant in English because of the holes. This one’s a baby though, you should see them when they’re bigger. They’re beautiful.”
“You should show me when it’s grown then.”
Sand paused, his gaze fixed on Ray like he was a particularly interesting specimen in a lab. Ray willed himself not to fidget under the scrutiny.
Finally, Sand said, “It will take a while.”
“I’m not going anywhere, am I?”
Ray didn’t know why he said that. Didn’t know what he meant with it. This was becoming a recurring problem around Sand. His brain-to-mouth filter was questionable at the best of times but in Sand’s presence his tongue seemed to have a mind of its own.
Instead of examining his odd declaration Ray did what he had been dying to do since the night he’d left Sand alone in the parking lot downstairs.
Sand caught him with ease when Ray practically lunged at him and Ray was happy to abandon all sense of reason for the rest of the night, maybe even the next morning if he could convince Sand to lie in for just a little while longer, na?
This he knew how to do. This he was good at.
This would have to be enough.
***
Ray woke up to sunlight streaming on his face through flimsy curtains and the heavy din of Bangkok traffic outside. The space next to him was rudely empty.
He could hear Sand puttering about somewhere in the apartment. He liked that about Sand’s place. It never felt cold and empty the way his own home did even with full time staff. Sand was always within reach, a reassuring presence even in his apparent absence. Ray was never truly alone. He rolled over and buried his face in Sand’s pillow, chasing the remnants of Sand’s heady smell.
It took him several minutes to drag himself out of bed and slip into some clothes in case Nick was home. Ray expected to find Sand in the kitchen making them breakfast as usual. Or even better, working out like that one time Ray had overslept and was greeted with the most delightful surprise of getting to see Sand’s muscles bulge under the strain of heavy dumbbells (which he’d thoroughly shown his appreciation for before Sand kicked him out because “some of us have to work, Ray, we can’t all be hi-so Khun Nu’s like you”).
When Ray stepped into the living area he immediately spotted Sand – he was so tall – tending to his plants on the balcony which was new but not surprising. It should be unfair how good Sand managed to look so early in the morning. He glowed haloed in the morning light, all long legs and lithe body. But there was nothing new about that; Sand was always gorgeous.
What Ray never would have expected and was wholly unprepared for, was to find Sand talking to his plants as he watered them. Ray had never heard Sand speak like that, so mellow and soft. He was murmuring sweet nothings, checking on their growth and asking about their night like they could actually hear him. It was so silly and so fucking adorable Ray was overcome with the sudden desire to squish Sand’s cheeks or coo at him or do something equally embarrassing.
Instead Ray slowly backed away towards the bedroom. Then he made appropriately exaggerated amounts of noise coming back into the living room. When Sand was within his sights again the watering can was nowhere to be seen.
Ray grinned at him and made all the right comments about breakfast and unconventional hangover cures and in no time they were back on even ground, bickering and flirting in tandem.
The scene from the balcony was folded up and safely tucked away, a memory to hold on to, something real and true.
***
“Now that’s a plant I know very well.”
“Jackass,” Sand snorted. “You think you’re so funny?”
“I made you laugh, didn’t I?” Ray retorted as he got off the couch to join Sand on the floor of his music room.
“I’m laughing at you,” Sand pointed out, still focused on the joint he was rolling with practised precision.
Ray didn’t mind. Sand laughing at Ray never stung the way it did when his friends laughed at him. Sand made him feel like he was in on the joke. Ray liked watching him laugh even at his own expense. He liked the way Sand would roll his eyes and shake his head in fond exasperation at Ray’s antics. He knew what fondness looked like on Sand now. It was a small miracle that Ray, of all people, had been deemed worthy of Sand's affection and he never hesitated to exploit that knowledge.
This wouldn’t last forever. Ray had to grab what he could with both of his greedy hands and then some because eventually Sand would grow tired of Ray and leave.
Everyone always did.
Everyone but Mew and even he–
“Light it for me.” Sand’s voice saved him from his own thoughts before he could spiral further.
Sand did that a lot – saving him, knowingly and unknowingly, sometimes even when Ray didn’t want to be saved. It should be annoying.
But Sand looked at him with expectation in his eyes and something suspiciously like faith. As if in his eyes Ray became real – a whole person beyond the partying and the money, as if he believed Ray could be good, that Ray was good.
It should be annoying.
Sand had asked something of him, a simple request Ray could easily fulfil. So he lit the neatly rolled joint hanging from Sand’s pretty mouth and directed his thoughts to happier things – like the way those full lips looked wrapped around his cock.
His thoughts were loud enough that Sand was sighing tiredly when he passed the joint to Ray.
“Shut up,” Sand’s voice was deliciously gravelly from the smoke. “It’s been barely twenty minutes.”
“I didn’t say anything!” Ray raised his hands in mock surrender. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Sand.”
“Sure," Sand shifted towards him, "We're getting up, come on.”
He was being dragged up before he could process what was happening and suddenly they were on Ray's balcony. It was drizzling and the air was muggy with heat.
“Why are we here? It’s so hot outside,” Ray groused.
“I like watching the rain. I don’t usually have time to.”
And how could Ray deny Sand something so simple.
“Besides,” Sand grinned at him, “One more minute locked in your artificially cooled, air purified hi-so hell and I would have shrivelled up and died.”
“I seem to recall someone saying they had the best sleep of their life in my hi-so hell last night?”
“You have a nice bed, I’ll give you that.”
“So generous of you,” Ray stuck his tongue out at Sand in a gesture he knew Sand would find cute and annoying, in that order.
Predictably, Sand rolled his eyes but he wasn’t done complaining about Ray’s house. “You need to open a window or two sometimes. No wonder all your plants are fake.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, we have plenty plants outdoors." Ray swept an arm towards the row of frangipani trees lining the driveway, "Where plants belong.”
“Still, you could keep some out here on the balcony. Or in your bedroom – you get great light in there.”
Ray couldn’t help but chuckle at the sentiment, “I don’t think I can even keep a cactus alive!”
“Oh shut up,” Sand narrowed his eyes. “People always say that but cacti are actually harder to care for than you think. I could show you so many simpler plants even you couldn’t kill.”
“Enlighten me then,” Ray said between drags of the joint.
Sand darted back indoors without a word, returning with his phone. He had the excited little look on his face that Ray had only ever seen when Sand was infodumping about his favourite bands.
So cute.
“I know I’m cute but look at her,” Sand shoved his phone in Ray’s face. “Isn’t she the cutest?”
“It is a plant, Sand.” A very generic plant in a generic pot on a generic website.
“Okay, okay. I have more.” Sand scrolled some more, this time showing Ray pictures from his own gallery.
“That one’s too big.”
“That one has thorns.”
“That’s so yellow it looks dead.”
“That’s all green, Sand, so boring.”
The limits of Sand’s patience were apparently endless. Ray’s protests did not deter him in the slightest. He just rolled his eyes and shook his head and showed Ray yet another plant with an unintelligible name until Ray finally gave in.
It was a plant Ray remembered seeing on Sand’s balcony that did it – its speckled green and pink leaves had left an impression.
“This is a type of Aglaonema. They call it Lady Valentine because of the colour,” Sand told him. “These are very pretty.”
“Like me,” Ray said just to see Sand laugh.
“Okay, Khun Rich and Pretty. I’ll get you a cutting next time I come over.”
“You have to keep coming over to check on it then.”
Any excuse to see more of Sand was a good excuse. For him, Ray could handle a little house plant. How hard could it be?
Sand held out his hand, “Deal.”
***
Sand was already waiting outside when Ray pulled up to his building. An assortment of plastic bags sat by his feet. His texts asking Ray to pick him up had been frustratingly cagey. But Sand never asked for a lift and playing chauffeur for him was much more interesting than his Business Admin class so Ray had dutifully shown up within the hour.
“What’s all this?” Ray asked.
“Told you I had something for you. Open the trunk”
Ray craned his neck to inspect the contents of Sand’s mysterious packages.
“Is that dirt? Saaaand, if you get dirt in my car-”
“It’s soil,” Sand huffed, “And your car has seen worse.”
Ray was stupefied. “Oh well if it’s soil-"
“Don’t worry, Khun Nu,” Sand interrupted him. “Everything is sealed.”
True to his word, Sand spent a few minutes carefully checking the bags before climbing in the passenger seat.
“I thought I was getting a present,” Ray whined.
“You are!” Sand grinned at him, “Stop pouting.”
That explained nothing. Ray was still pouting.
“What type of present involves dirt?”
“Soil!” Sand sounded irritated in the way he did when he found Ray’s whining cute and was extremely annoyed about it. Sand started to explain, “Remember the plant you picked the other day? I had to repot mine so I made a cutting for you. We’re going to plant it today. In a pot. With soil.”
“Don’t plants come in pots?” The one Ray had ordered online for Mew’s nineteenth birthday gift surely had.
Sand rolled his eyes. “Where's the fun in that? You have to plant it yourself for the full experience.”
“But-”
“No buts. Come on, you can use your princely hands to do something for once.”
“Hey! I use my hands plenty.” Ray raised a pointed eyebrow at Sand, “You’ve never had complaints.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sand laughed even as his ears flushed a pretty pink. “Keep your eyes on the road.”
Once they reached Ray’s house, Sand insisted on working in the garden to avoid getting dirt on the floors. Ray knew better than to suggest that the staff would take care of any mess they made.
Sand, predictably, did most of the work. Ray’s contribution included handing him the tools he pointed out and nodding at the right pauses while Sand explained his process. Sand made him help fill the pot with soil as he held the plant steady. It was kind of fun, actually – the feel of dirt under his fingertips, following Sand's instructions and earning a pleased smile or a hushed good job when he didn't immediately fuck up.
It helped that Sand being all focused and passionate about his little project while he ordered Ray about was really hot. He might have to revisit the whole thing sans the dirt and the plants.
When Ray stepped indoors to use the bathroom (and sneak a shot of something while Sand was otherwise occupied), he bumped into his father who for some reason was waiting just inside the glass doors leading to the gardens. He fixed Ray with a strange look as soon as their eyes met, his gaze moving between Ray’s soiled hands and his face. Ray didn’t know he had come back from whatever business trip he’d been on this time. He offered the man a perfunctory nod and was about to ignore him as usual but his father stopped him.
“What are you doing?”
What do you care, Ray bit back the words at the tip of his tongue. He didn’t want to start a fight when Sand was right there.
“My friend…he, uh…we were planting a sapling.”
“Oh,” his father’s eyebrows raised almost comically. “Good. That’s good.”
Ray needed to make a quick escape.
“Your friend seems nice,” his father said, looking away.
“He is.” Ray followed his father’s gaze to where Sand was watering the new plant with single-minded focus. Sand never did anything in halves. Ray wasn’t sure he knew how to.
“You know, your mother loved the garden. Frangipanis were her favourite,” his father said out of nowhere, quiet enough he could be talking to himself.
“I remember,” Ray breathed.
Ray remembered watching her walk through the gardens, wine glass in hand as the hem of her dress dragged through the grass, always so beautiful. She’d smile at the flowers, gently drawing them close enough to smell and Ray would find himself seething with jealousy so strong it left him breathless.
Ray remembered mornings spent picking frangipanis before school because sometimes on a rare good day his mother would smile at him for bringing her favourite flowers. One time she’d even drawn him close to tuck a flower behind his ear, her fingertips softer than the petals grazing his skin.
Despite the lingering scent of alcohol around her, his mother managed to smell like her favourite flowers – though Ray truly couldn’t tell whether that was a memory or a figment of his imagination. Too often had he woken up from a nightmare with the fragrance of frangipanis sticking to his throat, sweet and cloying until he was choking with it.
For the first time in his life he wondered if the past choked his father too.
But he couldn’t say any of that; he wouldn’t know where to start. Ray cleared his throat.
“I’m just going to…” he gestured awkwardly at his hands, bits of dirt falling through the gaps in his fingers to the pristine carpet underneath.
His father jerked a nod in his direction and then he was gone as suddenly as he had appeared. They never mentioned their odd conversation again.
***
“Since when do you have plants?”
Mew had wandered off to the balcony at some point while Ray struggled to roll a joint for him. Apparently, drugs came right after cigarettes on Mew’s list of “new things to try when your very first relationship implodes in your face”. No stranger to avoiding his problems, Ray figured weed was safer than going straight off the deep end to his usual preferences.
“Plant, singular.” Ray followed Mew outside, trying to ignore the pit growing in his stomach.
Mew plucked the misshapen joint out of Ray’s fingertips, inhaled deeply and started coughing immediately. There were some things even Mew couldn’t master on the first try. Ray thumped his back and waited it out.
"What happened to 'houseplants are pointless and way too much work'?" Mew said once he calmed down.
Mew had tried roping Ray (and Chueam and Boston) into his horticultural hobby way back in first year. Safe to say it hadn't worked with any of them.
“You like plants,” Ray said instead of answering his question.
The words tasted like sawdust on his tongue. Must be the weed. He should have just bought edibles; he hated rolling joints anyway.
“I’m surprised you haven’t killed it yet," Mew joked as he reached for the joint again.
“That makes two of us.” Ray’s laugh sounded hollow even to his own ears.
Mew didn’t seem to notice. As usual. He kept smoking in what Sand would’ve called terrible stoner etiquette if he were there.
Sand wasn’t there though and his opinion didn’t matter. They weren’t even friends.
Ray didn’t mind Mew hogging the joint or doubting his ability to keep low maintenance houseplants alive, not when Mew was finally here with him. Not when Mew had finally admitted Ray was the one he should love.
Mew crouched down by the plant. Ray fought against the stark feeling of wrongness in his chest as he watched Mew run a finger along the ridge of a speckled leaf.
“It’s really pretty. Where did you get it?" he asked.
“I can ask the gardener to get you one, if you want,” Ray offered through gritted teeth.
Unbidden, his mind conjured images from an afternoon spent roaming around Chatuchak plant market in a part of the city Ray had never visited before. He had managed to buy Sand a new plant he couldn’t pronounce the name of and decorative planters for him and his mom before Sand put his foot down. They had walked and laughed and shared pork skewers huddled under the awning of a roadside stall when the unpredictable September rain had come crashing down.
Despite the weather and the grime and the questionable street food, it had been a good day.
Ray could offer to take Mew to Chatuchak but he doubted Mew would want to sweat it out in the heat and the dust just to get a plant. His Mew deserved only the best.
“Don’t bother your gardener,” Mew said, reminding Ray whom he should really focus on. “Do you know where he keeps his shears? I can get a cutting right now.”
“No!”
Ray's violent denial made them both flinch.
“That’s okay,” Mew persisted, oblivious to his discomfort. “Sharp scissors will do.”
This time his response was slightly more controlled. “Let's not- Mew, let’s leave it.”
Ray wracked his brain for an acceptable excuse and came up blank, all his thoughts overtaken by a pair of beautiful calloused hands and bottomless brown eyes.
Mew was still looking at him with a strange, unreadable expression. Somewhere along the line Ray had fallen out of the habit of studying Mew’s face. He sorely lacked a frame of reference for this new Mew so he waited for him to say something, to pass judgement on Ray’s latest misstep.
The judgement didn’t come. But neither did relief.
“Let’s go back inside,” was all Mew said.
At least he didn’t ask any more damning questions.
Ray stifled a sigh and followed Mew indoors. Maybe he would let him make up for his little outburst with an apology blowjob or at least a real kiss and then Ray could finally be sure that Mew wanted him. That this wasn’t all for Top’s benefit.
***
Ray had done this before. He knew how this went.
A cold bathtub in a cold house: check.
The most expensive whiskey his dad's money could buy: check.
Prescription sleeping pills supposed to keep his nightmares at bay: check.
A half wilted plant with leaves that were once a vibrant speckled pink…that was new.
Ray didn't know what possessed him to bring the plant in here with him. He didn't know much these days - reason and forethought lost in the bottom of a glass or brushed away like the dregs of powder on his credit cards.
He just knew he needed to forget last night, wash away the bitter aftertaste of that disaster of a Halloween party.
He'd like to forget his whole existence, thank you very much. That's what the pills were for.
The stupid plant was a reminder though. Ray couldn't even get forgetting right. Useless.
He had foolishly thought he'd manage to keep the plant alive. This little thing. It was supposed to be simple, easy to care for.
Low maintenance. That's what Sand had called it.
Sand.
Ray drained his glass and refilled it. Downed that too. It didn't help. Never did, not really, if Ray was being honest.
Maybe he was addicted to Sand. But that would mean he was addicted to alcohol and his dad was right and Mew-
No, that was definitely a reminder he could do without today.
Ray caressed a drooping leaf of his dying Aglaonema and told himself it didn't make him think of brushing his knuckles over Sand's sharp cheekbones.
Ray adored Sand's face; all sharp angles that impossibly softened when he smiled, cheeks bunched up and eyes crinkling.
If he had to remember he might as well do it right. One last time.
So he let himself think about Sand, about Sand's hands and his mouth and his body and his deep rocker voice. But mostly about the way Sand made him feel seen – it was such a novel feeling yet it had buried itself under his skin and taken root until it was a living thing growing over the rot that festered within Ray.
Sand treated him like a person, not a burden even as he'd taken care of him from the first day they met. Ray certainly hadn't made it easy. Nothing low maintenance about him.
Sand almost ended up in jail because of him. Always a burden.
"I miss him," Ray heard himself saying out loud.
The words echoed and bounced off the walls of his too big bathroom.
"Bet you miss him too right now."
Great. He was talking to a fucking plant now.
"Sand would know what to do with you. He always knows how to fix things."
Couldn't fix Ray though but that was entirely his own fault. He was perfectly aware Sand deserved better than getting dragged into the abyss with him. That didn't stop him trying.
"Hey, I never said I'm a good person."
The plant under his fingers seemed to droop further with each of his confessions of colossal failure. It had to be his imagination. Right?
“I did him a favour, really! Khun Freddie with the world’s ugliest fake moustache could never satisfy Sand.”
Ray had no right, he knew that. But knowledge and action had never gone hand in hand for him. Like the absolute hypocrite he was, he just couldn’t bear to watch Sand slip out of his grasp.
“Will he come back for you, do you think?”
Ray had tried, of course he had. He’d sent a picture captioned with a “she misses you” because he knew how dorky Sand was about his plants. More than once he'd caught him talking to the plants as he watered them on the many mornings he’d spent at Sand’s place.
Sand did not respond. Ray’s texts were not important, reading them was enough. To be fair, the plant looked much more healthy and normal a few days ago. Maybe if Sand saw how it was wilting now, saw how much it needed him, if he could just get Sand to care-
“Do you think Sand would be sad if you died?”
Sand was the last person he’d thought of when he was sure he’d die in his wrecked car. The last person to tell him they care about him. The first person to treat Ray like someone to be cherished.
“You love me,” Ray had declared last night in his desperation to get a reaction, to get something out of Sand beyond that awful blankness he’d met outside Yo’s bar.
"You're mine no matter what," he'd said, breathless with how strongly he hungered for it to be true but the truth was Ray belonged to Sand. Sand owned him; had laid claim the very first night he'd dragged his drunk ass home and rubbed his back while he threw up and let him sleep on his ratty couch in his softest clothes and fucking charged his phone and asked for nothing in return.
Ray didn’t know much about love. But he knew Sand. He knew the look on his face, the shock-betrayal-hurt in his eyes when Ray was throwing blind accusations at him.
Could it really be love?
“I can’t lose him,” Ray croaked, swallowing down the bile climbing up his throat.
The Aglaonema sat in his tub, silent and stoic in its suffering. In a way, it was a lot like Sand.
Sand, who had trusted Ray with a cutting from his own plant. Sand, who'd taken him seriously when Ray had promised he’d take care of it.
"You don't deserve to die.”
The walls of his too big bathroom caught the words and tossed them back at him.
Ray groped around for his phone. He’d promised.
Ray carefully climbed out of the tub with the plant held in one hand, phone in the other. Once the plant was soaking in shallow water as per the ever helpful internet's suggestions, Ray set reminders so he wouldn't forget to water it again.
Ray would show Sand he can take care of what’s precious to him, he'd make sure Sand understands.
***
The sheer relief of having Sand back in his bed made Ray’s head spin. His boyfriend – that was a thing he could say now – lay curled in the sheets, utterly sated and peaceful. The fading light of the sun threw all his planes and angles in sharp relief, Sand was so fucking beautiful it made Ray delirious with want.
Instead of waking Sand up for round three like he’d originally planned to, Ray snuck off to the balcony to smoke. Nicotine was the one vice he had no plans of giving up any time soon.
He was miserably failing to blow smoke rings - how the fuck did Sand manage to make it look so effortlessly sexy- when he noticed something that made his blood run cold. In a corner of the balcony stood the Aglaonema he had all but forgotten about in the turmoil of the past couple weeks. It looked awful; the leaves were pale and drooping and even the stalks had turned yellow.
Even when Ray had rushed off to follow Sand on his camping trip on an impulse, he'd remembered it was nearly time to water his plant. Once they’d made up and decided to spend a few extra days in the mountains, Ray had made sure to call home and ask the staff to check on the plant in his bedroom.
Ray stubbed his cigarette and rushed to check the soil, afraid that his instructions had been ignored. But someone had clearly moved it outdoors, probably to get some sunlight, and unlike the last time he’d neglected the plant the soil was not dry at all.
He had no idea what was wrong with it.
After returning from the trip Ray had been busy with community service and rehab and painful withdrawals. The plant didn’t need frequent watering or elaborate care – that was why Sand suggested this plant in the first place – so Ray had assumed it would be fine. Then he’d gone and hurt Sand all over again over a stupid misunderstanding and it was all he could do to not shatter apart at every reminder of losing the man he loved for good.
And now he was here, finally back in his arms, but Ray had failed him again. Sand had asked about the plant last night while they soaked in his cramped bathtub after their tearful and very public reunion. Ray had been excited to show him how the plant had grown in the past couple months, how Ray had kept it alive despite himself.
Sand would be so disappointed.
Maybe this would be the last straw; do what the cruel insults and bruises hadn’t. Why would Sand trust him with his heart when he couldn’t even keep a simple plant alive? How many times can Ray fuck up before Sand finally walks away?
“Ray, what are you…” When did Sand get here? “Hey, look at me,” Sand cradled his face with both hands, “Why are you crying?”
Oh. Ray hadn’t noticed the tears blurring his vision. He tried to speak but he couldn’t breathe and his lungs burned and Sand let go of his face because he knew -
“Shhh it’s okay.” Sand was still here with him. He grabbed his hands and ran his thumbs in soothing circles on the inside of his wrists. “Breathe with me, Ray. You can do it.”
Ray gasped and sputtered and selfishly clung to Sand’s hands.
“In and out, that’s it,” Sand squeezed his wrists in time with slow, deep breaths that Ray tried to follow. “You’re doing so good, Ray.”
As soon as he had calmed down enough that he didn’t have to remind himself to breathe, he crashed into Sand, wrapping his arms around his thin frame and suddenly he was back at the jazz club, apologising all over again. At least Sand hugged back just as tightly as he had last night.
After what felt like hours Sand broke the silence.
“What was that about?” he asked in a low whisper while his fingers played with the hair at Ray’s nape.
Ray let himself enjoy the warm safety of Sand’s embrace for a few more minutes before slowly drawing back and pointing at the plant on the ground next to him.
“I’m so stupid,” Ray choked out over the dread twined around his throat. “I asked the staff to water her but I didn’t check and now she’s dying.”
Sand’s face was doing something complicated when Ray dared to look at him. He braced himself as Sand leaned over to inspect the plant.
“Looks like someone overwatered it. It’s a common mistake.”
Ray crumbled. He should have given the staff better instructions, he should have checked on the plant the second he got back, he should have-
“Hey,” Sand’s voice staved off the panic threatening to build up again. “Your plant won’t die. We can fix this.”
“We can?”
“Yes, silly,” Sand gently flicked his forehead and let his fingers linger on the swell of Ray’s cheek. “It looks like root rot but it’s not too bad yet.”
“I’m so sorry. I keep fucking up.”
“It’s okay, you caught it in time. Let me help.”
On Ray’s insistence, they started working immediately. They managed to locate the bags of soil and plant stuff (“fungicide, Ray, it’s called fungicide”) Sand had left with Ray back when they had planted the Aglaonema.
Ray watched with rapt attention as Sand carefully dug out the plant from the damp soil. He pointed out the yellowed stalks and dead roots to Ray and made him help prune them. Once he was satisfied with their work, Sand applied fungicide and set the plant aside to dry as he mixed fresh soil for the new pot they’d found in the gardener’s shed. It was slightly bigger than the old one and the extra space was supposed to help.
“There you go,” Ray whispered while he planted the Aglaonema in its new home. “Please don’t die again.”
When he looked up from his task he found Sand staring back at him, cheeks bunched up with a dopey grin. He looked so hopelessly fond Ray felt himself melt entirely at the affection. But then Sand’s expression shifted into something more like mischief and Ray braced for whatever was about to come out of his mouth next.
“Don’t think I missed how you called the plant her.” There it was. “Did you name it too?”
“Shut up.”
“Awww you did!”
"No, I didn’t.” Ray shoved him on principle, smearing soil on his band tee.
"Tell me," Sand caught his hand and cooed at him, paying no heed to the dirt covering his fingers. “Na, Ray? Na na na?”
“Hey! Don’t use my moves on me, asshole.”
“You have to tell me. There are no secrets in true love.”
“Who says I love you?” Ray was absolutely, irrevocably in love with Sand.
“But I’m such a catch,” Sand gasped in mock offence. He wound his arms around Ray’s waist to pull him closer. “And I love you.”
Ray had to kiss him then, slow and deep, until it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began.
"I don't know what I'd do without you," Ray breathed against his boyfriend's lips, "I love you so much, Sand."
***
“For the last time, I got it. I won’t let your precious plants die,” Nick folded his hands in a deep wai towards Sand much to Ray’s amusement.
“I trust you,” Sand said. “It’s just Ray bought this Alocasia last month even though I told him it’s too damn expensive and a complete fucking diva.”
“But the leaves are so pretty,” Ray protested sheepishly even as he draped himself all over Sand’s back.
“You just love the high maintenance ones,” Sand laughed.
Ray dug his chin in Sand’s shoulder, “Oh and who insisted on getting roses again even though we’ve never managed to keep one alive?”
“Ow ow, I guess all the romance is dead now, huh.”
Ray smacked a kiss on Sand’s cheek, except his boyfriend was too tall and Ray’s lips landed somewhere below his jaw but Sand blushed anyway. Even after a whole year of dating, Ray marvelled at Sand’s ability to turn pink at the slightest public display of affection. He was so cute.
Nick looked thoroughly unimpressed. “Stop flirting in front of me and leave already.”
“You’ve seen worse,” Ray reminded him.
“I wish I hadn’t!” Nick all but squeaked, probably remembering that one time they’d been too keyed up to make it all the way to the bedroom and Nick had walked in on Ray naked on his knees with Sand’s dick in his mouth.
At least after that Sand didn’t need much convincing to move in with Ray somewhere they didn’t have to worry about mentally scarring unsuspecting roommates or staff. Sand must have been thinking of the same incident because he pinched Ray’s arm. Hard.
"So aggressive," Ray whined.
Sand ignored him and carried on, “The soil needs to be kept just moist enough for the Alocasia and you’ll have to fertilise it once while we’re gone. Don't forget to mist the leaves of the Monstera and there’s a watering schedule for the roses and-”
“And prune dead leaves and flowers, I know,” Nick interrupted him. “You sent a multi page doc, Sand. I can read.”
As entertaining as it was to watch Sand nag at Nick, Ray decided to intervene before they ended up missing their flight. Reluctantly, he disentangled himself from his beautiful boyfriend.
“Baby, I think Nick’s got it. We’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”
“Listen to your boyfriend,” Nick scolded. “Go, shoo!”
“Kicking me out of my own home, I see how it is,” Sand shook his head fondly as Ray grabbed their suitcases.
“Seriously though thanks for letting me stay here,” Nick said as he walked them to the door, “Roommate was driving me up the wall.”
“Bet you miss me now," Sand smirked.
“Best roommate ever,” Nick deadpanned, “Minus the loud sex and the time you stole an illegal recording from my-”
“Okay, time to leave,” Ray dragged Sand out the door. They’d never stop otherwise; these two bickered like a married couple. “Have fun, Nick. Use protection and don’t get cum on our couch.”
“Ray! The neighbours can hear you,” Sand shushed him while Nick stood at the door, sweetly waving goodbye.
“I do have manners,” Nick called out. “Unlike some people.”
Ray laughed in delight as Sand flipped Nick off before loading their bags in the elevator. Four weeks of music festivals, long drives and mind blowing sex awaited them and it was more than Ray had ever dared to dream of. The plants would be fine.