Work Text:
There's a knock on the office door, but he isn't sure that at this point, he isn't hearing things, hours of silence gradually driving him crazy. The only thing he is able to hear is his own voice running through his brain, trying to recite everything he's learnt these past hours, and the ticking of the clock, an almost unbearable reminder of how much time he's wasted already on this.
"hey Teerak"
For a moment, his mind goes blank. The sound echoes through him, as if he's hollow inside - a little fragment of positivity in his clouded inside.
"You okay over here?"
Fang is sure that at least in his imagination, he nods. But it seems as though this isn't answer enough as he hears footsteps coming closer.
"you've been working all day"
For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Fang spares the time a glance. It's barely eight pm. So not an entire day. What an exaggeration.
"You should take a rest"
"I'm fine"
He can't grand himself that wish. There's nothing to be rewarded for. If he manages to get through this chapter, then he deserves a two minute break - mainly because he thinks he has to use the bathroom.
"At least eat something"
"I said I'm fine"
God, why can't he just walk away? This isn't useful to either of them. Especially not if they end up fighting for this insignificant request. He hates arguing with Tan for multiple reasons.
"Fang"
He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes because sure, his boyfriend only means well, but this is taking away all his concentration.
"I'll eat when I'm hungry"
Dismissing his concern physically, he doesn't even glance up, attempting not to get lost in the paragraph he's currently reading. But, he still hasn't left. And Fang is getting annoyed. He's tired, his temper short and his boyfriend clearly picking a fight.
"How long have you not been eating?"
He knows these are rhetorical questions. Tan is well aware that he's locked himself away for the whole day, refusing to even come out to go to the bathroom. Even though they're technically living together now, he feels like he's seen Tan less than before they did - which indicates that it's them same for Tan.
"I need to focus"
"How long have you not been sleeping?"
Sensing no end to his interrogation, he bites his lip hard in order to not snap. And to not lie. Either way, his boyfriend wouldn't like whatever he'd retort.
At night, he sneaks out of bed to go to the living room to study. He does feel guilty about it whenever he looks at his boyfriend, soundly slumbering and obviously seeking his presence, but he can't help it. It's the best time for him to get work done uninterrupted - no matter what, Tan is his favourite distraction after all.
"Tan, I'm fine"
"Okay. I'll leave that here"
"What?"
His head follows his voice, and for a second, he feels like he's about to fall out of his seat. Tan's body swims and blends with his surroundings. Then he's able to see again.
"I won't force you to eat. Yet"
Glaring between the plate he set on the dresser and Fang, he narrows his eyes playfully.
"If I come back later and you haven't eaten, I will get angry"
Only that Fang can't deal with jokes in his current state and the (albeit unserious) accusatory tone causes him to short circuit.
"I'm not a child for God's sake!"
His boyfriend, clearly taken aback, changes his expression - and Fang wants to take it back immediately, but his stupid brain can't even muster up the courage and energy to apologize, instead choosing to get mad at Tan for losing track of the page - and losing track of his thoughts.
"I never said you were"
"Stop treating me like one then!"
The silence that follows only adds on to Fang's already exhausted - mind? Body? Being?
Tan swallows, then fixes him with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes - a polite smile, a smile out of courtesy - a smile reserved for strangers.
"Do what you want"
Before exiting, he stops once more, but doesn't turn around. Fang however notices his slumped shoulders and he's certain Tan's speaking through gritted teeth.
"Sorry for caring"
The door slams shut. Perfect. With a deep sigh, he tries to concentrate on the papers in front of him. But he can't stop thinking about his expression, his tone, his eyes - which means more hours he has to invest in this to get it right. He already feels droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and his neck - which is strange because he totally doesn't feel hot. Maybe it's because he's nervous. Nervous that Tan doesn't understand him. Someone like Tan - good things come easily to him. Fang had to work hard to achieve something. The rush he felt the first time someone complimented his work - nothing can compare to that (well - one thing can). Since then, he wanted it more and more.
He thinks back to a conversation he had with Phum about it. His brother found him the second time it happened, lying on the floor, too frail to get up, even after he woke up again. Then, he forced him to talk about it - after force feeding him lunch down his throat.
"It has always worked before"
"But it's not good for you"
"It doesn't have to be good. It has to be effective"
"Is it?"
Phum had raised an eyebrow at him sceptical. He understood why his younger brother might not be fully convinced, but he contemplated for long, and at the end of his thought processes, the benefits always outweighed the disadvantages.
"Is it paying off?"
The moment he saw a full mark on one of his blueprints, or exams, any other thought vanished. Especially when Tan slides on the bench next to him, hugs his arms and declares to everyone how proud he is.
"My boyfriend is the smartest."
When he looks up at him so lovingly, perhaps even dares to press a kiss on his cheek - and Fang lets him, because he feels entitled to it. He attained something and is therefore able to trade that accomplishment for one act of affection from Tan - that's what he works towards the hardest anyway. To be worthy of unconditional love - paradoxically, truly, since Tan has never demanded anything in return but love and has never placed any expectations on Fang except to be truthful, but it's a (perhaps flawed) arrangement that never failed him.
"The smartest and the cutest"
Just a bit more time, a bit more studying. He can manage. He can get through it. He's done it before. He'll do it again.
He has to.
Reading and writing himself into a slump again, the next time he looks up, almost two hours have passed. Shit.
At one point, he expected Tan to burst through the door - if just with the desire to not back down. But, it's been strangely quiet. Even if he didn't plan on returning to this room, he should hear him move through the apartment - after all, he has Tan's routine memorised. Sighing, he stretches out his fingers and wrists which are painfully tight. And he misses his boyfriend. He wants to say sorry to his boyfriend.
He calls. No answer. To be honest, Fang should've expected it surely. He stands up so he can go search for his boyfriend - only that that turns out to be a bad idea, as he immediately flops down onto his chair, his head pounding.
Helplessly, he stares down at his feet, cursing them for not doing what he wants them to. The longer he keeps his gaze down though, the more his surroundings start to spin. With all the strength left, which is not much, he pushes himself off his desk - and his legs comply by turning into jelly, each step more difficult than the previous - if he even takes any at all.
Suddenly, he becomes painfully aware of his bodily sensations - his stomach is cramping so hard he has to support himself from falling down; his temples are throbbing and his neck and shoulders feel like they're frozen in place, unable to be moved; his mouth is so dry, even breathing burns; his hands are shaking so badly; and then there's the syncope. Everything seems out of proportion, going in and out of blurriness, and he feels like he needs to throw up - which is ironic cause he's positive he didn't eat something for at least twelve hours. Shivering, the sweat now runs down his back. It's like he can feel the last bit of consciousness slipping away from him. He desperately wants to hold on, but he has no idea how.
Faintly, he hears a sound he can't associate anything with in his current state. He tries to search where it came from - which is the last straw. He falls. It shouldn't take him more than half a second to hit the floor, but somehow, he's still falling. Floating, maybe. To somewhere far.
The next time he opens his eyes, he squints against the way too bright fluorescents of a hospital room. The lights only intensify the headache he still has, and his reactive groan seems to catch Tan's attention, who, until now, was leaned over the bed with closed eyes. In this moment, they fly wide open, and in a split second, he's right beside him.
"Oh god. Oh Jesus Fang, thank god"
He doesn't know what possesses him to - maybe the tense atmosphere or the actual severity of the situation - but he feels a very inappropriate smile tug at the corner of his lips.
"Were you praying?"
Tan perks up, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion - Fang doesn't blame him.
"I didn't take you for the religious type"
"Are you kidding me?"
He stands up so fast that the chair flies backwards with a loud thump, the sound making him wince - he isn't sure if out of shock or out of pain.
"You're joking? You think it's funny?"
His boyfriend points at the IV hanging from his side, at the heartrate machine, and Fang - and Fang doesn't know what Tan is seeing, but it can't be good. He glares daggers at him, and his pupils are basically glistening - but Khaofang can't even describe him as angry. It's much more panic that's adorning his face - maybe even fear.
"Do you think for just one fucking moment there's anything funny about this?!"
He - very wholeheartedly - shakes his head and reaches his hand out. Tan, understanding his intention instantly, seems to calm down enough to comply his silent request, drops onto the mattress and intertwines their fingers. He waits until he's sure Tan is composed enough to start a new attempt.
"What happened?"
"You passed out. You just - in front of my eyes. You didn't - I thought for a second -"
The tears are welling up as soon as he opens his mouth, and the sight of it breaks Fang's heart.
"You laid there - and I couldn't - you just - I - I -"
He's stumbling over his words, his mouth agape, but the only sound he's producing is choking, not full on sobs, but almost there.
"Tan. Tan breathe"
It's a meaningless advice, he knows that, but he's beginning to get anxious as well. Helplessly, he squeezes his hand and pulls him a bit closer. It takes about a minute of silent crying before Tan is able to look back at him.
"You need to stop doing this to me"
Tan raises their hand to his face, leans against Fang's knuckles.
"You need to stop doing this because I... I...I will break"
Another thing piled on top of his physical discomfort is now the emotional injury he inflicted on himself - his choices, his actions, his consequences - which have now affected someone else (the one person Fang has sworn to never do harm to).
"I thought you were dea-"
Tan can't even finish the sentence, exhaling shakily, all his air apparently leaving him at once. He looks so vulnerable, so worn-out - and it's all Fang's fault.
So he detaches his other arm, which previously has been lying still on the sheets, as if it wasn't a part of him, and raises it to properly caress his cheek. They feel stiff and achy, but there's nothing he cares more about right now than the man in front of him.
His man.
"Teerak, please"
"if something happened to you, what would I do?"
He's urgently racking his brain for any type of Segway out of the topic - he can't deal with the picture of a distraught Tan, can't handle the fact he could've prevented this all. If he was a bit more resilient. If he hadn't been stupid at first and stubborn now. If he accepted help when it was given to him. Instead, he pushed his boyfriend away.
Pushing it away is also the strategy he's going with.
"I never ended up here before"
"Before?"
The panicked edge in Tan's voice doesn't vanish - if anything, it grows, and Fang realises he's made the wrong move. He's miscalculated. He didn't think this through logically. He'd totally fail this if it was a test.
The sole solution to not let this escalate anew is to be honest, he presumes. It's not like he likes lying to his boyfriend - not if he can help it.
"Yeah, all the other times I fainted I just waited and it passed on its own"
"It happened before?"
"I'm notorious for doing stupid shit like that"
There's a moment of silence where Tan just stares at him, accusing him with his look of what he's exactly doing right now - minimising, ignoring. His voice is barely audible, and Fang wants to punch himself for being unable to fix it - for causing Tan more distress.
"But why?"
He'd love to simply reply 'it's hard to explain' and call it a day - but, it's actually not that hard to explain, explaining things to Tan isn't hard at all and Tan won't stop until he's explained anyway.
"What did I do wrong?"
It's a sentence said so raw and dejected, it throws him completely off guard. Out of all the possible outcomes of his negligence, he never anticipated his boyfriend to blame him instead of Fang.
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't I give you enough care?"
That serves as a knife to his chest, since there's nothing Tan has done to earn this kind of misery.
"Didn't I give you enough love?"
It's like every question pierces the blade deeper, twists it diligently.
"Didn't I make you feel safe?"
Momentarily forgetting everything around them, he embraces him strongly. It's the only type of reassurance he can think of currently, his mind switching back to autopilot - this time only replaying the immense amount of pain he's caused Tan, the wound almost visible, the blood, although just mentally, pouring out of him evidently. And Fang is suffering with him.
"Where does that come from?"
"Why would you do that to yourself?"
Simply put: out of love. However, once again, he doubts that explanation would change anything. Maybe if he dared to go deeper into his issues regarding his family and his constant strive for validating and any little unimportant indication that remotely resembles parental love - or at least anything other than indifference and Resentment - if he opened up and actually allowed himself to explore the detrimental effect his family had on him - maybe then both him and Tan could find the answer to that. But he can't. He doesn't. So, as it stands, he's purely doing it out of habit. Thinking about his goal instead of the means to get there. He does it because he doesn't know what else to do.
"Why would you do that to me?"
That's what he was most afraid of. The purpose of isolating himself: to not drag Tan into his mess. He's still struggling with an answer that both justifies his wrong doings and soothes Tan's concern, when the latter catches his attention by brushing the hair out of his forehead.
"Let me ask you right now: if this was me, would you do that to me?"
Tan leans forward, locking eyes with him intently.
"Would you let me starve? Would you not let me sleep for so long? Would you force me to sit hours on my desk just working?"
"Of course not"
It comes out lightning fast, the sole hypothesis of that happening so ridiculous to him he doesn't even spare it an afterthought. He loves this person so much, he'd never intentionally mistreat him. One of Tan's arms wraps itself around his neck gently, and although the added weight makes the tension worse, it's exactly where Fang wants it. The other tenderly rubs his thigh.
"Would I ever do that to you?"
"Never"
"Then why do you do it to yourself?"
He's unsure whether or not Tan really awaits him to answer that, or if it's him trying to drill his way into Fang's subconscious. Either seeing or sensing his confliction, Tan gives him a sincere smile and leans forward to kiss his nose, then his lips, both times too short for Fang's taste.
"You seem to forget that now we both have two bodies to take care of. Two lives to cherish. To preserve.To protect"
He hopes that that's Tan's closing statement, that this case can for at least today be put on hold until new, pressing evidence comes in. Sadly, the universe seems to have it out for him today.
"one thing"
Fang exhales dramatically, but he can't suppress the subtle smirk coming back.
"Why?"
He's caught between two contrary emotions - on one hand, he's exasperated by Tan's continuous efforts. On the other, he's grateful and feels the familiar warmth spread in his chest at the thought that he cares about him so much he's not willing to give up. Trust Tan to always peel away his layers of defensiveness.
"Because ...I need this. I need to be good"
"For who?"
It's not much more than a whisper, but it rings like a siren in his head, illuminating all his warning signs - but it's inutile. It's his boyfriend, who's been a master at getting through to him ever since he met him. Deflecting, ignoring, disconnecting - all useless.
"For who are you doing this for?"
It's not like he hasn't confronted himself with that inquiry in the past. He rummaged a lot through the different options, but he never came to a conclusion - or rather, he merely avoided to point out the issue in this (when it's so strikingly evident).
"For your parents?"
His parents who don't give a shit about him? Probably not.
"For your teachers?"
His teachers who occasionally praise him, but to whom he's only one of hundreds of students 'doing well'? No, that's not it either.
"For yourself?"
He's stuck precisely between wanting to say 'yes' and 'no' simultaneously. It's correct that the successes boost his mood - though not quiet like Tan can. It's true that those hundreds he has plastered on his papers fill him with some sort of gratification. But everything leads back to -
"And don't you dare say it's for me"
As much as he - theoretically - believes he is doing all this for Tan's happiness equally as much as his own, Tan certainly won't share that point of view. And that part isn't even a theory. It's presented to him like that.
"Well -"
"No"
He presses his lips tightly together, for a second tempted to cut the conversation short. Considering the graveness of it, he's aware Tan would let him. But it's the fact he knows he holds that much power that doesn't let him abuse it. No, Tan doesn't need to feel worse. He shouldn't have felt this way in the first place.
"I did it because I've always done it"
Swallowing hard, he spends some time planning out his phrasing - he definitely won't risk fucking this up once again.
"Because it was a thing I could at least try to control"
Because he's never learnt how to properly do it. Because, in his life, neglect always won over nurture. Independence won over support. Because personal life won over parental love.
"Because it was the one thing I was sure of being. The smartest"
When he remembers his middle school and high school - and even his college years - the end result is the same. He was considered a model student in middle school so he got the title as class president, he was considered organised and dependent so he got chosen as head cheerleader. He's considered hard working and intelligent, so they always recommend him as the tutor - and none of it he did because he enjoyed it (except for cheering. He later found an unique interest in it) but simply because he thought of it as his duty. As his identity.
"Who's Fang? The smartest in our class. The smartest in our school. The one who constantly gets good grades. Top of the league"
Stretching his arm out yet again, Fang begins brushing his thumb over Tan's jawline over and over - a method to soothe him, something to zero in on. Tan, listening attentively, nuzzles into the touch, which in returns takes some weight off of this whole subject matter.
"And who the fuck is Khaofang?"
He laughs bitterly, and if he weren't that tired, the self deprecation, which fills his voice, would make him cringe and hide away.
"Besides that? I don't know. Nobody knows him"
Biting his lips, he struggles with himself to uphold the eye contact Tan created.
"I don't even know him"
It feels as though the moment his body hit the ground earlier, he broke apart into tiny pieces, both his interior and his exterior splattered on the floor, leaving Tan to pick it up. And now he resembles IKEA furniture without instructions, Tan having to ask him where each piece belongs to - as if he could tell.
"I know him. I know my boyfriend"
"Yeah. Your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, the smartest"
Rewinding to past instances, that metaphor seems oddly fitting. He fell apart like building blocks just to put himself together again - each time differently, each time more sloppy than the one prior.
At this point, there's most likely no fixing that.
"But that's not who you are. That's not what defines you. It's only one adjective of many"
Tan takes his restless, trembling hand into his and places his lips onto it.
"When I say you're smart, then I mean your ability to see through people. I'm referring how you always give us the best advice, even if you're not an expert at physical comfort. Your capability to help people grow in any aspect is what makes you smart. Not the number on any test score, not the amount of teachers just saying it"
He kisses Fang's palm, then his pulse point.
"When I say you're beautiful, I'm of course also talking about your gorgeous face. But that's not everything. It's a little part of it. A lot of people can have pretty faces. But it's the soul that makes the distinction between pretty and beautiful. You just happen to be both"
Suddenly, a rush of heat spreads across his face. He hasn't blushed due to Tan in ...he can't recall. But somehow, he's reacting to Tan's words as if he heard them for the first time. As if they haven't been together for years.
"Do you want me to list more reasons?"
Before he can intervene, Tan spills.
"You're funny - specifically because you never intend to, so all your comments make us laugh much more than any remark from Pun or Mick"
It may be slightly selfish, but for some reason, he's longing for more. A little bit more.
"You're caring in the tiny, most significant ways. Like how you wordlessly place my favourite drink on the table or how you remember my usual order at any coffee shop, or how you offered to run errands for basically all our friend or how you always give up your blanket for someone else when we crash at Peem's"
He taps his nose fondly.
"You're loveable - that one's a bonus because to be fair, it's something you only started being a few years ago and you're only that for me so technically -"
He can't resist the love blooming inside him, lunging forward and shutting Tan up with a kiss, this one longer and lingering. He is trying to keep him from going on, but he's also doing it because he craved it the whole day - well, night now, and he's deprived himself of Tan to an excessive extent.
"Please stop talking"
Shyly, he lowers his head to escape Tan's intense stare.
"I'm embarassed enough"
"I know you, okay?"
His boyfriend lifts his chin, the look in his eyes transforming from fierce to adoringly to completely starry eyed.
"I know you"
And regardless of the state he's in, or they're in, he believes everything Tan says. Even in moments he doesn't trust himself, he'll forever trust him.
"And if you don't, I'm more than happy to introduce you to the great person you are"
He still holds Fang's face, and briefly, he ponders getting lost in his eyes.
"But for that, you need to be. You need to exist. You need to be you"
Tan traces his jawline down to his neck and his shoulder, and he senses the goosebumps on his skin.
"You need to take care of yourself in the way you take care of me and I take care of you"
The blush burns up again and even though he should defy the teasing but he helplessly wants to keep the atmosphere light.
"If you say it like that -"
"Damn what did I do to you?"
He can't contain the giggle escaping him - which earns a low chuckle from his boyfriend.
"My love. If you don't take care of yourself, let me at least take care of you"
His face is thick with worry, and Fang wonders if that's how he looked earlier too. He also wonders that if he'd seen it, he might've acted differently.
"Please?"
Another few seconds of silence pass, but it's not as tense anymore - it's fairly vacant, waiting to be occupied by all the things left unsaid.
He clears his throat, making a last decision.
"It's not something I can say for sure won't happen"
He huffs, more out of shame and guilt than actual aggravation.
"And I can't say I won't be angry and lash out at you. Even when I fully know you just want to help"
Like how he confused his boyfriend's devotion for a personal attack, causing him to misread the room wholly.
"I can't...turn it off that quickly"
"I'm not asking you to turn it off"
Surprised by the steadiness and security in his words, he just glances back at him, controlling the urge to pout - judging from Tan's expression, he's not doing a good job at it.
"I'm asking you to turn it down"
He didn't expect Tan to force him or push him into something - he did prepare himself for promises and terms and potential future vigilance. But, as normal, he's only met with sympathy and compassion.
"We can take it step by step. Baby steps. Like this"
Tan lets his fingers crawl up Fang's arm slowly, effectively making him laugh. Pleased at his victory, he once more runs his hand through his hair.
"Well find a system. Together"
"What's the first baby step then?"
Curious, he tilts his head to the side, glad to let Tan take the lead.
"You already did it"
Tan starts massaging his neck, and there's something alleviating about the pressure - as if Tan's fingertips took off some of the pressure on his heart.
"I'm proud of you"
He feels one of his broken pieces being glued back together.
"I'm always proud of you"
Although from the outside he doesn't move, inside his brain he paints a picture of repairing himself - like an art student connecting the individual items of a sculpture, or puzzle pieces connecting seamlessly to a nice image.
"And the proudest"
"Of what?"
The smile Tan has on his face now is a mixture of mischief and pure affection - that stupid smile he fell in love to begin with.
"Being your boyfriend. Being the one you love. Being your partner"
He's about to declare how that's the same thing - a pathetic attempt at self sabotaging - when Tan interrupts him by pecking his lips - and every time he opens his mouth, Tan repeats the action until he surrenders (rather quickly, to his dismay).
"I'm proud of you, as a human, not of your achievements"
Very carefully, he draws Fang into another hug, and he lets himself practically fall into Tan, buries his head in the crook of his neck and closes his eyes, the relief in his temples almost instantly. He's not sure if it's the placebo effect of Tan's love, but he welcomes it nonetheless.
"And I love you. Not your intelligence, or your appearance, or whatever"
His warmth envelops Fang, and he tries for a minute to imagine they're back home after Fang has had a nightmare or one of his typical panic attacks Tan is sadly as familiar with as he himself is - for now, he wants to imagine it's just the two of them in this world - the usual way Tan makes him feel.
"Never forget that"
And just like that, Tan has efficiently built him up again.