Chapter Text
Then
It is colder tonight. Stars appear like grains of sand in the dark sky. Shin leaves his mansion in the jacket Saint gave him on their first meeting. It is faded and thinner from overuse but surprisingly warm. Routinely, there’s a revving sound followed by flooding headlights. Saint pulls up on a Harley Davidson. He’s had it for weeks now but waited until he was legal to drive it.
Saint is a vision. He is framed by the lights from his bike, forming an angelic halo. His cropped short hair is styled and his broad shoulders taper into a small waist. Has he gotten taller? He seems to have. His lips are curved in a charming smile that pulls the dimple on his right cheek in. Shin would kiss him if he was allowed.
“You—you look nice.”
Saint smiles. “Thanks, buddy. I got a haircut. I thought it’d be appropriate for what I have planned for today.”
Buddy. Shin schools the muscles on his face. “Congratulations on the bike.”
“Ah, you noticed.”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You commented on my haircut first. Normal people would’ve mentioned the bike first.”
“I didn’t comment on your haircut. I commented on you. You looked nice even without the haircut.”
Saint’s soft laugh pulls a smile out of Shin. He tugs shin closer by his jacket and fits a helmet over his head. This is heavier than the scooter helmet and slightly uncomfortable. “All done” Saint taps the top of the helmet twice with a smile. Not for the first time tonight, Shin wants to kiss him.
He’s been thinking about kissing Saint more than normal recently. He wakes up with discomfort in his underwear and a conscience that evidently isn’t guilty enough to stop him. It’s Saint in his thoughts. Saint in his dreams. All day, he texts Saint and at night, Saint emerges from the dark like a knight and steals him away.
He breathes Saint.
He has resorted to juvenile antics like drawing hearts around their names instead of paying attention during lessons. If they wrote Saint into his syllabus, he would excel.
When Shin was 7, he saw an electric toy car on TV. There was nothing he wanted more than that car but it was impossible to get as it was from an animated film. After petulantly demanding for days, Father had it built for him. Saint represents that car. Shin knows he’s unattainable but that doesn’t stop him from wanting. If he told Father how much he wanted Saint, would he get him Saint too?
Shin holds Saint tightly as they speed down the road. They stop at the Centara Grand, a 5-star hotel. Shin has been here once or twice to observe meetings against his will. He frowns at the back of Saint's head and then at Saint when he turns around and pulls off his helmet.
“Why are we here?”
“It’s a surprise. Do you trust me?”
“Unequivocally but—,”
“Then just follow me.” He leads Shin to an elevator that takes them to the 24th floor of the building. It opens to a restaurant, sleek, modern, and breathtakingly beautiful. Shin does not get to admire the beauty of this rooftop restaurant in its entirety because he’s distracted by Saint speaking to the waiter. “Reservation for Saint and Shin, please.”
“Right this way, sir.” A slender lady happily guides them to a terrace that overlooks the beautiful city. Saint takes a seat and nods to the seat across from himself. Shin sits and crosses his legs. He may look cool outwardly but the voices in his head seem to think this is some kind of date. His delusions quicken his pulse and muddle his mind. Though in a state of befuddlement, Shin can acknowledge how handsome Saint looks.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Saint picks up the menu. “Is this not too expensive for poor Saint? Yes, the food here is outrageously priced but I’m making so much money now. Apparently, I’m good at my job. Who would’ve thought?”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
“Oh? You had the thinking face on.”
“I was wondering where the twins and Ken are.” And if this is a date. “They are always around when we have to go out.”
“Nobody knows about this—yet. It’s my birthday. I just want to treat my friend to something delicious.”
Friend. The voices in Shin’s head are disappointed but at least they have ceased their delusional blabbering. Shin smiles which causes the smile on Saint’s face to broaden. “Thank you.”
“Pleasure is all mine, Mr. Naruebet.”
They spend the next few minutes arguing about what to order. Then they argue some more when their food arrives because Shin prefers Saint’s to his.
“You should’ve ordered better,” Saint says while Shin takes another bite from his plate.
“You should be ashamed of yourself. You promised to fatten me up and yet I have not been fattened up. A better man would give me his plate without nagging.”
“You fight dirty.” Saint has a proud smile on his face.
“I learn from the best.”
After their meal, as tradition (Saint) dictates, they take pictures against the beautiful backdrop. He calls it creating meaningful memories.
“What are you gonna use all these photos for anyway?” Shin asked.
“I’m gonna frame them and put them all over my walls when I buy a house someday.”
Shin hid his joy behind a put-upon frown. “That’s not ideal for interior decoration.”
“Who cares about that, huh?” Saint threw an arm around his neck, pulling him closer for another picture. “I’ll have my little Shin with me and that’s all that matters.”
“I’m not little, we are almost the same age.” Saint took a photo while he was complaining.
Despite his whining, after each night out, he curled in bed and stared at his face squished beside Saints’. Traced a finger along the lines of Saint’s face. Over the curve of his lips and eyes that stare into his soul even through a screen.
Now, Saint pays the waiter with cash and tips her for her services. After she leaves, he rests his elbows on the table and leans forward. “Where do you want to go next?”
“It’s your birthday. You decide.”
“Will you do whatever I want?” A mischievous brow touches his hairline.
This does not bode well but Shin nods.
**
It is loud, dark, and cramped in what Shin can only describe as the devil’s lair. Shin hides in a corner away from sweaty bodies and watches Saint having fun from afar, fake IDs burning a hole through his pocket. Saint is at the bar with a petite brunette woman. He has to lean closer to speak into her ears and her eyes light up in the dark bar as she throws her head back and laughs. Saint the hilarious. Saint the perfect gentleman. Saint the heartbreaker. This must be the special activity that demanded a haircut. Shin’s heart mends itself just to break again.
For the first time, Saint’s eyes are not on him and Shin feels exposed to the dangers of the city that Father seems so dreadful of. Next to the bar just left of where Saint and his date are lost in conversation, Shin sees a couple. Both appear to be male. They are swaying softly to the music, foreheads pressed together. Then slowly, they tip their chins up and touch their lips. Shin quickly looks away, feeling warmer. He shouldn’t be intruding on other people’s private moments like that. Places like this offer anonymity, he’s read somewhere. Saint must have come here for that. Perhaps he too wants to kiss that beautiful woman. The thought comes with nausea in the pits of Shin’s belly. Cigarette and Shisha smoke is suddenly too suffocating. He needs to breathe—needs to give Saint some privacy.
He drives his way through the crowd, the folded jacket on his arm, a shield over his eyes. He doesn’t stop until he’s outside the sleazy establishment. Bangkok’s polluted air feels like a breeze from the southern ocean in comparison to the dragon cave back there. Shin wobbles past unfortunate souls who are still trying to get into the club and loud drunks scattered on the street to a quiet and empty alley.
Shin rests his hands on his knees and takes deep steadying breaths. After a few repetitions, he doesn’t feel any less agitated. His hands are still shaky. His heart is still racing. His mind is feeding him poisonous images. Saint, slow dancing with the lady like those two guys were. Saint, leaning down and kissing her. Saint—
“Shin!” A hand circles his upper arm and spins him around. It is Saint. Shin has never seen his eyes that dark before. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
Shin, with considerable strength, snatches his arm back to himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“You can’t disappear like that.” Fisted in one hand is Shin’s jacket. He must have dropped it on his way out.
“Like you care!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You brought me here to watch you pick up—chicks!” He spits the word with bile.
“I brought you here to have fun. But you are so averse to the idea of enjoying yourself! Would you rather rot away behind your tall walls, seeing no one? Having no fun?”
“Forgive me for not considering indulgence in lecherous activities as fun.”
Saint scoffs. “You think you’re better than them, us?”
“Yes. I, in fact, am!”
His eyes flit upward, annoyed. He stares at Shin for a moment, nostrils flaring. Then he turns and walks away. Shin’s panic has barely set in before Saint is rounding the corner again. He stops when he’s an arm’s length away and lobs the jacket in his hand at Shin. “Put this on.”
Shin throws it back. “I don’t want your jacket.” This is a lie. “Go give it to your girlfriend. I’ll find my way home.” He starts off but doesn’t make it past Saint who grips his arm and drags him to his side.
“Stop this, Shin!” His Voice is deeper. Commanding. It causes Shin to shiver and it irritates him.
“Let me go.” It’s not easy to free himself this time. Saint hardly shows off his strength and never against Shin. But today, he doesn’t let up. Shin grits his teeth, staring into the depths of Saint’s eyes. “I order you to let me go.”
“Who are you to order me?”
Who is Shin? He’s not Saint’s boss. He’s not one of the girls Saint likes. He’s just a friend that Saint has no qualms about ditching for momentary pleasures of the flesh. “I am nothing. So just let me go.”
“If you walk away, it’s the end of us.”
Shin’s heart sinks. The tightness in his chest is painful enough to steal his breath for a moment. However, he’s embittered enough to let ego take the reins. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s stop being friends.” Saint’s face twists in pain. The look lasts a millisecond before his eyes turn hard. He releases Shin’s arm.
“Go on then.”
Shin turns around and walks away. He doesn’t expect Saint to stop him but he’s disappointed when he doesn’t. This morning, shortly after Saint dropped him off, Shin called him on the phone and sang him a birthday song.
“I wanted to be the first to wish you,” Shin said.
“You are.”
“I’m glad.”
During the day, they exchanged messages with lots of selfies involved because according to Saint, all Shin had to do for his birthday was send selfies. Shin was happy whenever Saint sent one back. What will Saint do with all their photos now? Delete them? He probably has already.
Shin hugs his arms around himself. It’s so cold and the flimsy white shirt he’s wearing isn’t helping. He should’ve accepted the jacket at least. He loved that jacket. Loved its owner. Its owner who is back in that club with a pretty woman. It’s getting more tiring to walk aimlessly on a street he doesn’t know. He’s never been in these parts of town before. He’s not afraid but he feels lost and lonely.
He stops and sits on the side of a shop, hugging his knees to his chest. He should call Father for help. He’ll be surrounded by guards in no time. He might never be able to leave the house again but what would he want to leave for anyway? He lost Saint.
Shin hears the bike before he sees it. He’s rising to his feet before it stops beside him. It is one of those days when he has to work extra hard at keeping his tears from falling. When Saint takes off his helmet, he holds back an exhale.
“What—,” his voice cracks. He clears his throat and tries again. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you think, Shin?”
“You said it was the end of us.” His heart cracks just remembering the words from Saint’s mouth.
“I say stupid things that I don’t mean sometimes.”
Shin takes a second to collect himself before he speaks again lest he starts crying. “I’m cold. I want to go home.”
**
Home as they both understand now is Saint’s house. After killing the engine under the little bike shed Saint built, Saint takes off Shin’s helmet. Then he takes Shin's wrist and walks him to the house as though he might start wandering the streets again, left unsupervised.
“Do you wanna shower first?” Saint asks. “We kinda smell of smoke.”
“Okay.”
“Shin.” Shin stops and turns around. Saint starts to say something but he closes his mouth and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’ll leave some clothes out for you.”
It is not Shin’s first time in Saint’s bathroom. He knows the position of everything. His toothbrush, big fluffy towels, and his favorite body wash. When he requested them, Saint called him a princess but made them available the next week. Saint loves him sometimes. But other times, like today, he doesn’t feel loved. He feels expendable.
When Shin leaves the shower, there’s a white shirt, clean underwear, and shorts on the sink. Shin dries himself and wears the clothes. They hang loosely on his frame but they are comfy. Outside, Saint is waiting by the door.
“I’ll be out shortly.” He promises as he rushes into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.
Shin goes to the bedroom and lies down first. The sheets are thicker and softer than before too. So many things here have been altered to Shin’s preferences. Idle, he pulls out his phone and goes through the photos they took at dinner. Looking at them gives him butterflies. He looks happy when he’s with Saint. And Saint, he seems happy too but that may not be the case. Saint smiles while talking about his dead parents. He smiles when his eyes are bloodshot and his face bruised from training. Pain and sorrow make him smile.
Perhaps Shin too is pain and sorrow. He too is something to be endured.
The bed dips when Saint joins him. He lies on his side facing Shin. Shin puts his phone away. They hold gazes in the short space between them for a while.
“You haven’t smiled since we left the restaurant,” Saint finally whispers.
“I’ve had nothing to smile about.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“For giving you nothing to smile about.”
“And a lot to be sad about.”
“Yes,” Saint says. “That too.”
“You took your eyes off me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You did it for a chick.”
“Please don’t say ‘chick’—,”
“Then you broke up with me.”
“Broke up,” Saint mutters with a breathy laugh. “You say it like we were dating.”
“I don’t have to date you to be hurt by you.”
“Oh, Shin.” Shin can’t tell what look he’s wearing to wipe Saint’s smile off his face. “Let me take you home.”
“What, why?”
“You can’t be here, buddy.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay, that’s it.” Saint starts to rise but Shin pushes him back down. “What are you doing?” His dark brows are touching.
“You’re doing it again. You just apologized and you’re doing it again.”
“This is for your good.”
“Fucking fine then!” Shin rises and snatches his phone. “I hate your guts. I hate your fucking face. And I hate you.”
“That’s good. Hate me. It’s better than—this.”
“Fuck you!”
“Language.”
“Stop treating me like a child. I turn seventeen in two months!” Shin Matches to the door and returns fuming. “Where’s my jacket?”
“I threw it out.”
“You fucking threw it out?”
“Language.”
“I will punch you, fucker.”
“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“No.” Shin frowns. “You know I haven’t seen her for years now.” Slowly, a smile breaks out on Saint’s face. “What’s funny? You think everything is a fucking joke.”
“You’re so cute, you know? Sometimes I just want to—,” he trails off. Sweeps a hand through his short hair. “Don’t be stubborn, Shin. Let me take you home.”
“Or what?”
“I might do something stupid.” His eyes droop down to Shin’s lips. “Something really fucking stupid.”
Shin knows desire when he sees it because he has worn it so many times. On his bed, biting his pillow to muffle the sound of Saint’s name spilling from his lips. Through his foggy reflection in the bathroom mirror while he brings himself to a climax.
“Language,” Shin says weakly. “You’ve been stupid all day. What’s one more stupid thing gonna spoil?” Saint’s eyes are glossed over. They are standing more than two feet apart but Shin aches from the heat pouring through his gaze. He swallows as Saint takes a step forward. Three strides is all it takes to close the space between them. He doesn’t kiss Shin. No, that would be too easy. His hands grip Shin’s waist, fingers flexing as if still trying to gain some self-control.
“I’m going to get into trouble.” He says in a whisper. “Push me away, Shin.”
“Just kiss me, please.”
Saint's lips are cold like a summery breeze. His touch is a juxtaposition, warm and rough against his skin. The first touch makes him shiver. The second makes him warm. The third rids him of sound thought. Shin parts his lips and feels the heat Saint hides behind cold lips. Saint’s kiss is as hot as all parts of him. His desire is as consuming as all of him. Shin cannot get enough. He touches him everywhere. Desperate, aching, wanting. Kisses places his lips can reach. A taste of Saint was supposed to alleviate his lust but he fears his condition is fast deteriorating. The taste of him only fuels the burning desire to become one with him, body and soul.
“This is wrong.” Saint breathes. His hands don’t agree with him. They curve around Shin’s ass, pulling them flush together. “I’m gonna get into trouble.” His tongue teases Shin’s lips open again. His want trickles down Shin’s throat. But before he can swallow, Saint rips their lips apart again. His hands leave shin’s ass. And he is holding Shin at arm's length.
Shin is dazed. His brain is still fogged over. “Why?” He moves forward and Saint takes a big step back.
“Don’t come any closer.”
“Why?!” He repeats louder, frustrated. “This makes no sense. You started it!”
“We can’t do this. This was a mistake, okay? We are friends.”
“Buddies.” His voice is shaky. “Yeah, I fucking know that. What sick friendships do you have? Do you kiss Ken like this? You know what, don’t answer that, you sick freak.”
“We are worlds apart, Shin. I’m a—I’m a boxer and you’re,” he points at Shin. “You. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Then you shouldn’t have fucking started it.”
“You think I started this?” Saint erases the distance between them, shoulders slouched in defeat. He reaches for Shin and Shin lets him. Lets Saint’s thumbs gently stroke his face. “I can’t do this with you because it’s against my gym rules. But when you turn 24, when you have autonomy—,”
“Semi-autonomy.”
He smiles though his eyes are shiny with tears. “Semi-autonomy. You can come steal me away like I stole you away. And then I'll be whatever you want me to be.”
“24 is eons away.”
“It’s just 7 years from now. It’ll be here before we know it.”
“Will we still be friends in 7 years?”
“I don’t know, Shin. But I will do whatever it takes to be by your side when you’re 24. Do you trust me?”
Shin nods. “With my life.”
“Good, don't ever forget this.”
**
Self-restraint is not easy to exercise.
Saint does better. Perhaps he just does not want Shin as much as Shin wants him. While he holds back, Shin relapses. He kisses Saint in the cinemas when the musketeers are distracted, he kisses him in bed, freshly showered and wrapped around each other, he kisses ice cream off his lips with the stars blinking down at them, he kisses the back of his neck while riding through the streets at night.
After some time, Shin recognizes a pattern. Whenever he loses self-control, Saint shows up the next day with a new bruise.
“It’s just training,” he says with a smile.
Shin finds out that he is indeed Saint’s pain and sorrow too.