Work Text:
Pat used to think every single aspect of his life would be better as soon as Pran came back from Singapore to stay. Many things did: the loneliness, the cold nights, the envy he felt when he spent time with Ink and Pa. Most stay the same, which is just as well.
One specific thing becomes worse, however. It keeps getting to him, the exhaustion of working with his father. Taking over the family business was nothing more than the natural progression of life for him, the thing he had been working towards since childhood. He could see it so clearly back then, a future where Ming stood tall and proud of Pat's accomplishments, where he bragged about his firstborn son to every customer that would give him an ear.
That clear vision started fogging up during his time in university. Part of the reason was the physical distance he got after moving into the dorms, but most of it was Pran. After he met Pran again, the future he concerned himself with was no longer crossing the 'successful son' threshold in a few years' time, it was 'Will Pran still talk to me next week?'. He took to hiding things and defying Ming's wishes because next week was right there and Pran— well, Pran had always been the main catalyst for his misbehaving.
By the time he became Pran's boyfriend by losing their bet the only future that mattered for him was one where they stayed together. They were together in deciding to uncover the truth behind their families' rivalry. They still had each other when the aftermath of their lies and secrets became too much to bear. They stayed as a pair as they sought refuge inside the zero-waste village. Pat built naive plans as their idyllic days went by, content with the reality of sleeping and waking up next to Pran. His heart told him that it would be enough, yet he could tell it wasn't enough for Pran.
Back then, Pat wanted so badly to be selfish, but he knew that if they kept following his naive plans it would eventually make their relationship crumble. How could he not want to be selfish when he got to wake up to the sound of the waves before being greeted by the love of his life with a guitar on his lap and a smile on his face? That dimpled smile was his undoing. It turned him upside down and inside out, in the best and worst ways, the way only Pran could. If he could have Pran's smiles for a lifetime, he'd be able to endure a few tears. They'd still be together— not in the way Pat craved, but in the way Pran needed. The way they could.
So they went back home. They went back to pretending, and in the absence of alternate plans for the future, Pat's journey towards the finish line for a successful son begrudgingly resumed. He managed to keep it together by reminding himself that it was still a job, it allowed him to save up for his future together with Pran. His future with Pran was what gave him strength for the tougher days, the ones with fights that devolved to yelling. Pat looked forward to that day, he thought of Pran and carried on. Everything would be better when Pran came back home.
But it's not exactly like that. Pran has been back home for a while and the exhaustion is getting to him. It keeps getting worse and Pat doesn't know what to do.
Today is just one of those days, Pat tells himself on the way home, not thinking about the fact that those days seem to happen constantly now. Tiredness clings to his body and lingers for days, piling up and up until he grows used to going about his day with a perpetual headache. Bangkok traffic does nothing to ease his frustration. 'At least today is Friday', his mind repeats, 'at least today is Friday and I have Pran'. That's the only comfort he has during the miserable journey back to their shared apartment.
Surprisingly, the smell of food doesn't hit him as soon as he has a foot in the hallway, which tells him Pran probably isn't home. Seeing little purpose in rushing his entry now that he suspects he's going to be the first one home, he takes his phone out to check it for new messages before even bothering with the keys to the apartment. There are none. Weird.
He opens the door and sees that the lights are on. Pran is home, he's sitting on the couch and focused on his laptop.
"Can you cook dinner today?" Pran asks without looking up from the screen. Pat wishes he could just say 'Yes, baby, of course', but the unexpected demand fills him with a sense of dread that leaves him silent. The fact that Pran didn't get up to greet him, to kiss him— he was looking forward to it the entire way home— but Pran must be really busy, otherwise he would have cooked—
"Pat?"— what does it say about him that he can't cook a simple meal to help Pran out? It's not that hard, he's tired, sure, but he could just do rice and—
"Pat," Pran takes his hand. He looks worried. "What's wrong?"
Nothing. It's just one thing. I don't know. I'm so tired.
"Sorry," Pat offers him a strained smile, trying to salvage the situation. "Got distracted. I can cook." He can cook, he can pick up the slack. Exhaustion isn't an excuse, he can't afford to lose Pran when he's the only thing keeping him together—
Pran sighs. "Let's just order in," he says, enveloping Pat in a back hug. He pecks his cheek and Pat just about melts right then and there— he'd been craving him all day. "Go change into something comfortable and wait for me in the bedroom," he continues, then pecks Pat's cheek once more and releases him with a light shove. He sits down on the couch and grabs the laptop again. "I'll save my work here and join you soon, ok?"
"Ok. I can shower." Pat offers. He's been out and about all day, which Pran isn't a fan of unless he's in a very specific mood, and it doesn't look like he's in that mood right now.
"We'll shower together later. Just wait for me on the bed."
That sounds nice. Pran has most certainly showered already, but he spoils Pat sometimes by joining him for one more, knowing how much Pat likes it when he washes his hair.
Pat makes his way to their bedroom as instructed and grabs the first set of clean and comfortable clothes he finds. Changing out of his work clothes does help with feeling more like himself, even if feeling like himself still means wanting to dive into bed and never leave. 'At least the bed smells like Pran', he thinks, taking Nong Nao and squeezing it tightly between his arms for additional comfort. When he feels the bed sink down slightly, however, the plush is hastily thrown aside in favor of squeezing his boyfriend and slotting his nose right on his favorite spot near his neck. Pat closes his eyes and hums, feeling the stress he was carrying up until that point slowly dissipate.
"You big dog." Pran jokingly protests, sliding a hand through Pat's hair.
"Your big dog." he replies, giving Pran's neck a light bite, which earns him a playful smack on the cheek in return. Pat giggles, finally remembering what joy feels like. Being with Pran does make everything better. Maybe he could fix things by finding a way to get multiple Pran breaks during his regular work hours.
"Your dad again?" Pran asks, hand now caressing the cheek he smacked moments prior.
"Yeah." Pat sighs. The company is handling two clients with big projects at the moment, but him and his father frequently disagree on what materials to suggest for each of them. There are huge payouts on the line, so a comparably big amount of stress became commonplace. Looking back at the life his past self thought he'd be living by following that natural progression until he became a 'successful son' he finds that there isn't much of that pride and praise he imagined would come from Ming. Life instead forces him to constantly deal with veiled resentment coming from both parts of the equation.
"You don't have to do this forever, you know?"
It sounds easy when Pran says it like that, but it doesn't feel feasible when so much of his self-worth still depends on making Ming proud of him, no matter how much he doesn't want it to. He feels even more conflicted being a close witness to how hard Dissaya worked to mend things with Pran. It's not uncommon for Pran to come home after a visit carrying containers of homemade food his mother cooked for him and the friend he's living with. Pat can't imagine his father doing anything close to that. It's not like he ever expected him to, yet he can't say it doesn't hurt that it hasn't happened either. But if he gives up on working the family business, then...
"What if I stop and he says he never wants to see me again?"
It's what has been weighing heavy on his mind since they came back from running away together. Vocalizing it for the first time makes it scarier somehow, like revealing his fears in private would allow Ming to see them on his face the next time they met and turn them into reality. They don't make a lot of sense, not even to Pat himself. That was something he had wanted, wasn't it? At the beach, with the sun, the breeze, the sea, and Pran; what Pat felt was that he never wanted to see his father again. A part of him still feels that way— maybe what they have is unfixable, and it would be better for both parties to cut ties for good.
But then there's another part of him— one which he tries to ignore, one which he wishes would grow up already, he shouldn't cry over this— maybe Pat is still a little boy seeking approval from his hero and role model. He's done almost everything right, and still...
He can't hold the tears back.
"You'll always have me, I'm here," Pran whispers close to his ear and holds him closer, runs a soothing hand up and down his back. "Always."
Pat wakes up to the enticing smell of sausages and toasted bread. He sprawls out his limbs in all directions hoping to find Pran in bed with him— the smell hints that his boyfriend is probably in the kitchen, but one can never be too sure and it's an easy way to assure himself he won't miss out on possible morning cuddles. He usually lazes around in bed for an extra hour or two during weekends, but this time it quickly dawns on him that he is starving after having fallen asleep without eating dinner last night.
When he tries opening his eyes, he feels them covered in gunk and remembers that he didn't take a shower before sleeping either. He slowly rubs it off and tries to gather enough energy to get up and clean himself before Pran puts breakfast on the table, but he soon joins Pat in the bedroom, his hands holding a tray full of food that smells familiar, comforting.
"Good morning," Pran moves closer and carefully sets the tray on the bed. He kisses Pat's forehead and sits down next to him, then grabs a piece of toast that had been previously drenched in sweetened condensed milk and offers it to Pat, who eagerly takes it and bites into it. "How are you feeling?"
"I... better. I think. Sorry." Pat looks down, embarrassed. He notices that in his haste to eat he didn't take care to hold the toast over a plate and there are breadcrumbs all around him on the bed sheets. "Ah, um, sorry," he repeats, moving to try to round up the crumbs to make it easier to clean the bed. Pran gently grabs one of his arms to stop him.
"It's okay. Just eat, we'll deal with that later." Pran gives him a reassuring smile. Pat takes a small plate from inside the tray to minimize further accidents as he continues eating his way through the breakfast Pran cooked for them. "I said it's okay," Pran rolls his eyes, but he looks stupidly fond of Pat for taking that initiative. "Do you... wanna talk about it?"
"Please don't leave me," Pat blurts out. "I just... keep being a nuisance to you. I couldn't even cook dinner. I'll be better, I swear, you won't have to worry about me—"
"I worry about you the most when you get like this." Pran sighs, caressing Pat's legs. "We're a team, Pat. That means I fight alongside you. You take care of me when I need you, of course I'll do the same to you when you need me. Needing help isn't being a nuisance."
Pat sighs and sets his now empty plate to the side, then nuzzles into Pran trying to muffle his next words. "It's hard to feel like we're a team when you seem okay all the time, and I'm... not. So I can't do my part, it's like I'm only bringing you down."
"If I seem okay all the time it's only because you helped me get here," Pran is quick to shower him with more physical affection, tangling their legs together. Pat really does feel like a clingy dog sometimes. "... I needed you to take me on our first 'honeymoon'. I needed your encouragement to go for the internship in Singapore. You raised me up a lot. Now it's my turn to help you. Let me?"
Pran feels Pat's nod against his skin. "I wish I knew how to talk to my father. Not just about wanting to quit working with him, but. Everything. I don't know if I'll ever be able to."
"Pat, you're the bravest person I know. Facing your dad is scary, but..." Pran giggles, reminiscing. "You followed me to the Architecture camp and ate Wai's meatball right in front of him."
"Well, I did that because I wanted you," Pat says, matter-of-factly. "I could face anything for you."
This time it's Pran nuzzling into Pat. He tries to contain his smile, but it's inevitable when it comes to Pat. "Ugh, it's supposed to be my turn to make you feel better. You can't say that."
"Yes I can. Your move, khun Parakul?" Pat looks at Pran's face and raises an eyebrow. Pran is looking at him and smiling like a fool in love.
"I love you. I believe in you. You're so strong, Pat. You might not know how to start this conversation with your dad right now, but I know you can do it. And I'll be here to support you until you're able to do it, just like you did to me. We are a team, Pat. You're the teammate I chose for my life."
Pat feels his heart swelling up with love. They have come so far together, and Pran wants to keep building a future together with Pat, one where they lift each other up when it's needed. He plops himself down on the bed in a dramatic manner, silently asking for cuddles. Pran indulges him immediately. There are breadcrumbs all over the bed sheets and the only reason they're allowed to be there is that Pran has been prioritizing taking care of Pat since he saw him struggling yesterday.
"Are you sure you want to spoil me this much?" Pat asks, in the middle of having his hair ruffled by his boyfriend.
"Don't make me regret this. Thirty minutes and then we take a shower," Pran pinches one of Pat's sides, but it has no edge to it. He kisses Pat's scalp. "We can figure something out later. You'll always have me."
Pat used to think he had gotten himself stuck in the future he started building when he still wanted to be what his father wanted him to be. But it's not exactly like that. He has Pran, and Pran, well— wanting to misbehave is easy when he knows Pran will always be there for him.
They cuddle for way more than thirty minutes. Pat can't be sure what exactly will become of his future, but as he lies in his lover's arms in comfortable silence, he's sure that it— he will always have Pran. Pran is home.