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Prapai looked away from the window as Namtan knocked on the door frame, and he waved her into the office, only listening halfheartedly to his mom’s voice on the other end of the phone pressed to his ear.

“Mama, I don’t need you to set me up with one of your friend’s daughters,” he said simply, eyeing the papers Namtan set down on his desk. He wasn’t particularly interested in those either, but it was better than having the same conversation for the hundredth time. “I don’t have problems getting dates.”

“What you do is not dating, my dear,” she replied, and Prapai rolled his eyes. He’d heard this lecture before. “You’re not going to be young forever. Some day, you might think about settling down and getting serious. What am I supposed to tell people when they ask why you bring someone different to every party?”

“That I’m having a great time.” Prapai shrugged, catching the way Namtan’s eyebrows went up as she stood before the desk, waiting for him to hang up.

His mom sighed on the other end, but Prapai wasn’t bothered. She’d give him the talk and for a while, she’d let it drop until some other society woman asked why he wasn’t married. Then they’d go through this all over again.

Personally, Prapai didn’t see the point. There were so many pleasures out there to be had, so why should he tie himself down to just one person? No one had ever interested him that much anyway to bother with anything more than a hook-up. He doubted anyone would.

Pushing the pens around on his desk, he glanced at Namtan.

Save me, he mouthed at her, and she just crossed her arms over her blouse. A whole lot of help she was. Next time she asked for time off, he would have to remember to deny it.

“I just wish you’d start taking this seriously,” his mom said and Prapai sighed, unable to stop himself. After so many times hearing it, he already knew what was coming. “You are going to take over the company some day, and it doesn’t look good for you to be messing around with everyone that glances your way.”

“I don’t,” he argued pointlessly, knowing it wouldn’t matter.

“And I want you to find someone who makes you happy,” she went on, and that Prapai couldn’t argue with. He knew it was just her way to guilt him into this date, but he couldn’t say anything against it, and she knew it. “I just want my children to be happy.”

“I am happy,” he assured her. He had a great sex life. Practically anyone he wanted, he could get. He was already looking forward to the race tonight, the way there was always at least one person flirting so shamelessly that he had to give in and fuck them. Aside from the racing, that would be the best part of the night.

“Pai,” she started, but Prapai had to cut her off. If he didn’t, he’d be stuck on the phone for the next half hour while she proposed date after date and finally guilted him into some pretentious dinner with a girl who was as dull as dishwater.

“Mama, Namtan is here with some important papers. I’ll have to call you later.”

Namtan arched her eyebrow, knowing, and Prapai tossed her a look to keep quiet.

“Fine,” his mom allowed, sounding suspicious and certainly like she wasn’t ready to give up. “We’ll discuss this later.”

Grimacing, Prapai hung up the phone finally and groaned, raking a hand through his hair and setting his gaze on Namtan.

“Thank you for nothing.”

“She’s right,” Namtan just said, spreading the papers before him and handing him a pen to sign. “It would be good for you to stop, excuse my language, fucking around.”

Prapai wanted to frown, but he couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t like he told Namtan about his many lovers, but somehow, she always knew. She definitely had some kind of magical powers. Or maybe she just had access to his calendar.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t pay you for unsolicited advice about my love life,” he said, signing the papers before him.

“You don’t pay me at all,” she replied simply, stacking them once he was done. “Your father does.”

Semantics. Prapai waved it away, buttoning his jacket as he rose from the chair. “Well, then, you can be the one to tell my father I’m leaving early. I have an important appointment.”

Namtan’s expression was flat, unimpressed as he swept past her to the door. They both knew where he was going, but Namtan was decent enough not to spread it around the office.

“If you get in any trouble, don’t call me. I have a date tonight.”

Prapai grinned, tilting his head to the side. “When do I ever get into trouble?”

Ignoring the way she tried so hard not to roll her eyes, Prapai just flashed her a smile as he stepped out the door. He had better things to do tonight than spend it on a date with someone his mother picked out. There would be plenty to choose from at the race, plenty of people who wouldn’t expect anything but sex, and that was exactly how he liked it.

*

He had been right, Prapai thought, as his gaze followed a particularly pretty guy through the crowd. There were lots of spectators tonight, crowded around the bikes, gathering to watch the races, attempting to flirt with the pit girls.

He’d already been hit on by several people, and he was weighing his options as Payu tinkered with the bike behind him.

“If I win tonight, I’ll give you some money for a decent outfit,” Prapai told Payu, who lifted his head from where he was bent over.

“They’re coveralls,” Payu said in that annoyed drawl of his. “They’re not supposed to be sexy.”

“And that is why we never find you a hook-up here,” he said, gazing out at the crowd, the way the lights flashed over the people, the boom of a bass from the DJ. It was a nice night to be out--not too stifling hot in his racer’s jacket, a gentle breeze over his forehead as he caught the eye of a guy in a crop top across the lot. He could be down for that tonight. Something quick and easy, a blowjob behind the trucks.

Payu crossed his arms in return. “You’ve hooked up with enough people here for the both of us.”

Prapai grinned, grabbing his helmet off the bike and cleaning off the visor. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Only to your face,” Payu replied, and Prapai laughed.

“At least I’m not so particular that I scare everyone away.

Payu only responded with a look that left him amused. Payu could be as particular as he wanted, but Prapai had needs. Needs that needed to be filled. And he was more than willing to take a chance on anyone that offered.

His mother only wanted him to ‘settle down’ for the sake of image, so he wouldn’t go off fucking everything that moved anymore. So he wouldn’t be a bad influence on his siblings, who took after him much more than even he would have liked sometimes. His brother was becoming just as shameless, and he couldn’t help but worry that it wasn’t a good thing.

“Khun Prapai.” One of the race attendants approached him as he was lost in thought. “Your race is up next.”

Payu didn’t wish him luck, and Prapai just smacked him on the shoulder as he zipped up his jacket.

“After the race, I’ll find someone who’ll put up with you.”

He laughed as he walked away, knowing Payu was frowning behind him. It was so easy to piss him off. Payu probably did need to get laid. But that certainly wasn’t a problem for Prapai.

At the start of the track, he climbed on his bike, scanning the crowd for interested faces. His gaze fell on the guy in the crop top again, caught his wandering eyes, and he smirked as he pulled on the helmet. He knew what he was doing after this.

Turning his attention to the race, Prapai revved the engine and adjusted his perch, watching the flag girl walk to the middle of the road.

He never thought about sex when he was riding, was completely focused on the bike beneath his thighs, the rumble of the engine echoing through his chest, the flash of wind gusting into his body. It was easy to get lost in the thrill of the race, to be so blindly focused that he forgot everything else.

And that was exactly what happened when the flag went down and he and his competitor zoomed into the night.

The track always flew by in an instant, taking the curves and keeping an eye on the other rider out of the corner of his eye. Pressing down on the accelerator, Prapai burst forward, the sound of rushing wind in his ear, heart beating fast as he took the last corner.

He saw it, the cat in the road, seconds before he swerved. The bike skidded on the dark pavement, a loud screech as it slid out from under him and he hit the ground with a painful thud. The last thing he remembered was a pain in his shoulder before he passed out and everything went dark.

*

“Pai? Pai?”

A voice, Payu’s voice, echoed in Prapai’s head for a second as his eyes struggled to open. He felt the hard, rough pavement underneath him, the weight of the bike gone from on top of him.

Groaning, he forced his eyes open, realizing the helmet was gone from his head. Payu’s face swam into his vision, furrowed with concern as everything sharpened around him.

He still lay on the ground, a group of people gathered around—to stare or to help, he wasn’t sure. The lights seemed brighter, flashing in his face as he tried to push himself up.

“Slowly,” some other voice said when Prapai grimaced at the dull pain in his shoulder. It was a medic, and the light was a flashlight shining in his eyes. “You just got a bit banged up by the road.”

“I’m fine,” Prapai said, twisting to take in the torn leather of his jacket, the shoulder ripped to shreds, but the skin underneath seemed to be okay. It was barely a scratch and he couldn’t have been passed out for that long. He just hoped that guy in the crop top hadn’t seen it or there went that chance. Maybe if he explained about the cat, he would look better.

“You’re probably going to be a bit sore for a while,” the medic said, “but it looks like just a bruise.” Prapai wished there weren’t so many people around as Payu reached for his hand and pulled him off the ground.

“There was a cat,” he said, like it mattered, and Payu just frowned and helped him away from the bike.

He didn’t need help, and Prapai pulled away, straightening his jacket. Maybe the hurt act would get him some sympathy sex, though, he thought vaguely as the spectators whispered behind their hands.

“Come on,” Payu said, shoving him through the crowd since Prapai had brushed him off. “Sky’s going to kill you.”

“Sky?” Prapai didn’t know who that was. Was it a person? Some new part of Pakin’s team who had a lot riding on him winning races? If so, he hadn’t been informed.

Payu glanced at him. “Didn’t he say that if you did anything stupid before the wedding, you’d be celibate until after?”

Prapai shook his head, not understanding a word that was coming out of Payu’s mouth. “Whose wedding?”

Payu stopped in the middle of the crowd, frowning as he looked at Prapai, as if he’d said something very strange. Payu was the one who’d said something strange. Was there some wedding he had to go to that no one had told him about?

“I think you might have hit your head harder than we thought.”

Shoving Payu’s hand from where he tried to feel his head, Prapai scoffed. It was just a minor accident. He hadn’t even needed a band-aid. He was fine. His jacket, on the other hand, was not fine, and he pouted at the rip on his shoulder. It was his favorite red one too.

“I’m fine,” he said, just for good measure, but Payu narrowed his eyes anyway.

“I’m driving you home.”

He was being ridiculous, Prapai thought even as Payu steered him away from his tent and towards the parking lot.

“I still have another race,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder. This was a prime opportunity to get all those hot girls and guys to smother him with sympathy, to soothe his aching shoulder and offer to kiss it better. Payu should know better than to cockblock a chance like that.

“No, you don’t,” Payu said firmly, which was total bullshit in Prapai’s opinion. “It’s either home or the hospital to get your head looked at.”

Annoyed, Prapai could only sigh. His head was fine, thank you very much. So he went with the lesser of the two evils. Maybe he’d put in some porn when he got home and at least get off once tonight. Or he could text any of the many booty calls in his phone for a quickie.

Resigned, he got in the car Payu led them to. It wasn’t his usual car--must have been one from the shop--but he climbed in anyway and huffed as Payu crossed to the driver’s side.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Prapai said as Payu started the car. “I know where I live.”

Payu didn’t glance over. “You just fell off your bike. I’m not risking you driving anywhere.”

Making a face, Prapai sunk back into the seat. Well, at least he hadn’t called Namtan. She would have killed him for sure if he’d interrupted her date. And besides, it was just a little bruise, a bump on the head. Nothing he couldn’t handle. He didn’t need anyone fussing over him.

And now he had to go home unsatisfied, without even a hook-up to take the edge off. He’d have to get back at Payu for this.

Glancing up, Prapai frowned as he glanced around at the buildings rushing past in the darkness. This wasn’t the way to his place, several blocks away instead.

“Where are we going?” he asked, and Payu made another turn.

“Home.”

Not his home, Prapai thought, watching out the window. Was this some secret apartment of Payu’s? He hadn’t thought he’d be so kinky to need his own place near the racetrack.

The building they pulled up to towered over them, lights blinking off of balconies, and Prapai just followed Payu inside. It was a nice place, with shiny marble floors in the lobby, wood-paneled walls, a little more traditional than Prapai preferred but clearly well-kept.

“Where’s the keycard?” Payu asked as they reached the elevator, and Prapai blinked at him.

“Keycard?”

He didn’t have a keycard to this building. It wasn’t even his building, but Payu was looking at him with a little more than concern as they stood there.

“Give me your wallet,” Payu said instead, although Prapai didn’t know why. Was he going to try to fool the scanner with a credit card?

He handed it over when Payu held out a hand, impatient, as if Prapai was the one asking weird questions. Maybe Payu had hit his head instead.

“If you need money, you just have to ask,” he said, confused when Payu pulled out a little white card and swiped it over the lock. The elevator lit up and the doors slid open.

Staring up, Prapai barely noticed Payu leading him in, trying to figure out how exactly that card in his wallet opened this door. Maybe he had hit his head a bit hard in the fall. But that wouldn’t explain any of this.

Rubbing his forehead, he would never admit to the headache starting deep in his temples, glad he had the whole weekend before he would have to show up to work and face Namtan’s knowing look.

It had to be Payu’s apartment, Prapai thought as they stepped out of the elevator and the keycard opened a door at the end of the hall next. Some weird, fancy apartment he kept for hook-ups. Prapai hadn’t really thought Payu had been into that, but maybe there were still things he didn’t know about his friend.

Inside, Payu switched on a lamp and Prapai glanced around the place. It was certainly decorated more to his taste than Payu’s, but there were things that stuck out like the stack of manga on the coffee table, the artwork that was far more fanciful and traditional than Prapai would have picked out.

“Quiet,” Payu said as Prapai ran into the dining room table. “You don’t want to scare Sky.”

Who the hell was Sky? Prapai’s eyes widened as he realized what this was. Payu had a secret lover. That had to be it, but why hadn’t he told Prapai before this? And why would he keep him a secret?

“P’Payu?”

A voice came from the doorway across the room, and Prapai squinted through the darkness at the figure standing there. Oh, he was going to tease Payu about this forever.

“What are you doing here?”

The guy stepped into the living room, into the light, and Prapai blinked as he got a better look. This guy was, well, beautiful was the only way his mind could put it, dressed for bed in a wrinkled shirt and a pair of threadbare boxers. He shoved a hand through his sleep-mussed hair as he crossed the room, yawning, and blinking sleepily.

Payu was looking at Prapai, as if he was supposed to answer that, but he shrugged. Sky wasn’t his lover.

“Pai had a bit of an accident,” Payu said finally, sounding annoyed that he was here at all. What kind of boyfriend was he?

“Accident?” Sky asked, coming closer to Prapai, and Prapai blinked stupidly as Sky’s hand landed on his cheek, big, amber eyes searching his face, falling to the tear in the jacket. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah,” Prapai said, suddenly breathless, skin tingling where Sky’s fingers lingered, tilting his chin to the side as if to inspect him. He didn’t know why, but he liked it. Shaking the thought from his head, he had to remind himself that clearly this Sky was someone Payu knew, someone Payu would come home to after a long day at the race, and Prapai was just a guest.

Sky’s hand dropped just as his expression did the same, crossing his arms instead and stepping back.

“Do you remember what I said?”

Confused, Prapai glanced at Payu for help. Why was this (very pretty) guy looking at him as if he’d done something wrong? He didn’t even know him.

“I think he might have hit his head,” Payu interjected as Prapai floundered. To his surprise, Sky’s expression softened and his mouth twisted, as though reluctantly swayed to feel bad for him.

Prapai blinked as Sky reached up and ran a hand through his hair, as though checking for bumps. For a second, he wanted to close his eyes and savor the touch in a way he never had before, so different than his usual hook-ups.

How the hell had Payu found this guy? And why was he keeping him from Prapai in this apartment all alone?

“I’ve got to get back to the race,” Payu said, and Prapai shook himself, sharp, confused about the hand in his hair.

“But, uh,” he said, glancing back at Payu. What was he supposed to do here? He should probably go back to his own condo and sleep off the headache forming behind his temples.

Unless, he thought, looking back at Sky, eyes drifting down to his bare legs, so shapely, perfectly tempting. Unless Payu had brought him here for a reason. He hadn’t thought of Payu as the type to use call boys to fulfill his needs, but when the occasion called for it…

“Thanks for bringing him,” Sky said, taking Prapai’s hand even as Prapai blinked stupidly. “Come on, let’s get you in bed.”

He was confused, but he was also not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Payu just nodded at Sky and shot Prapai a look as if he should be thanking him too. Maybe he would if tonight went anything like Prapai was imagining as Sky’s hand curled around his, warm and soft.

He’d already forgotten all about the crop top guy from the race when Payu left, the door latching firmly behind him. This night was just getting better, he thought, as Sky led the way past the kitchen, through the living room and into a bedroom. Even though it was dark, Prapai could see the outline of the furniture, a large window overlooking the city. Lights peeked through the gap in the curtains, and Sky didn’t bother turning on a lamp as he turned to Prapai.

“Your jacket is ruined,” he said, pushing it off Prapai’s shoulders, and Prapai grimaced at the unexpected pain. He’d probably have a big bruise tomorrow.

But for now, he was more focused on the way Sky undressed him, how he inspected the large red mark covering his shoulder, fingers gentle, tingling as Prapai watched him. It was strange, how careful he was, how he frowned as if annoyed by the injury.

Most of the booty calls Prapai had weren’t so slow, he thought as Sky pulled his shirt off and guided him to the bed. But he could make an exception considering how pretty Sky was when he looked up at Prapai with those golden eyes that made Prapai think of Sky sinking to his knees, taking him in his mouth. His dick twitched at the thought. He wasn’t even sure he’d make it that far if Sky kept looking at him like that.

“You have to be more careful,” Sky said, serious, and Prapai wasn’t sure why.

He did take the opportunity to lean in, to get this started since he was down to just his pants already. A good fuck might make him feel better about losing the race, about embarrassing himself in front of all those people who normally thought he was invincible.

Sky’s lips were soft, pliant, kissing Prapai back for a second, but he didn’t let it go any further as his hands came up to Prapai’s chest and pushed.

“Who said you could do that?”

Ooh, stern. He liked it. Prapai almost grinned, gaze sweeping down Sky’s chest, wondering how long he’d have to wait, if waiting was part of the game. He’d really have to thank Payu for this tomorrow.

“Then are you gonna tell me what to do?” he teased, intrigued when Sky shot him an unimpressed look and gave him another nudge away from him.

“Take off your pants and get in bed,” he said, and Prapai was all too eager to obey.

Stripping off his pants, he left them on the floor and hopped onto the bed. Most of the guys he slept with were perfectly fine with letting him do all the work, and he didn’t mind, but there was something about the way Sky scoffed that made his skin prickle.

He was confused, though, when Sky didn’t climb on top of him. Instead, he rounded the bed and crawled in the other side, rearranging the covers over them both. Was this some weird kink of Payu’s? Or Prapai had heard of people that were paid for companionship, paid to sleep next to someone. Since when was Payu that desperate? He knew Payu could be picky but fuck. And why would he think Prapai would be interested?

He watched, frowning, as Sky slid beneath the covers and reached over to switch off the light.

“Go to sleep,” Sky murmured as Prapai sat against the headboard, trying to work out what exactly was going on. Payu should have known better than to bring him to a call boy who just wanted to sleep. He’d never trust Payu’s judgment again. “If you’re good, maybe I won’t have to punish you for that accident.”

This was punishment enough, Prapai found himself thinking, taking a breath and huffing it out. He supposed there was nothing else to do but go to sleep, and maybe tomorrow, it would make more sense.

Settling in under the covers, he stared up at the dark ceiling, reaching over to press gingerly on the bruise forming. Stupid cat. And stupid Payu. He could be fucking that crop top guy right now if it wasn’t for him. Instead, he was laying in a very soft bed next to a gorgeous guy with no hope of getting any and completely confused as to why.

Rolling onto his side, he watched Sky breathing beside him. Shaking his head, he sighed. No sex and a loss on his record. And now he had to spend the night at a stranger’s house because his car was still at the track.

Resigned, he closed his eyes and vowed to get Payu back for this.

*

Prapai dreamed. He dreamed of dark hair and soft skin, a crop top skimmed over attractive shoulders. He dreamed of strong hands sliding down his torso, a tongue circling his nipple, hot and wet as his skin grew hotter under the touch. He twisted in the sheets, panting and grasping for something solid to hold him steady as his dick throbbed even in the dream, fully hard at the visions that flooded his brain.

Fuck.

Prapai could feel the dream fading and he struggled to hold onto it as it slipped through the holes in his mind, but heat didn’t fade as light pressed in against his eyelids. It dragged him to consciousness, a tug behind his navel, something warm and wet that felt like the dream but was decidedly real as his eyes fluttered open.

He recognized the ceiling from the night before, light flooding through the gap in the curtains. The white pillows were soft under his head as he blinked at the empty side of the bed where Sky had been the night before. But Sky wasn’t there now. No, Sky was between his legs, sheets bunched up at the foot of the bed, gazing up at him from where he had a mouthful for Prapai’s cock.

The image caught him by surprise but he definitely liked it, a rush of blood as Sky took him in, licking and sucking in a way that told Prapai he was plenty experienced. He even knew exactly where to lick that made Prapai’s body go tight. He’d never actually woken up to a blow job before, but that might have been because he asked most people to leave long before morning.

This was nice, though, almost too much as he stared down at Sky, bit back his groan now that he was fully awake, much better than the vagueness of a dream. It was real, wet and slick, his dick pulsing against Sky’s tongue. He wouldn’t have expected this, but he wasn’t complaining as he took in the delicious picture before him. Sky, his messy hair falling in his eyes, holding Prapai’s gaze as his lips stretched over his dick, slick and wet and so fucking hot as his tongue slid down his length.

Sky was good at this, he thought, head hitting the pillow and trying not to thrust into his mouth, to choke him the way he wanted. He didn’t even know Sky, and choking him with his dick probably wouldn’t be the best first impression. But Sky didn’t seem to mind, seemed to want to bring Prapai apart as he moved faster, the room filling with Prapai’s quick breaths, the sloppy sounds of Sky’s mouth bathing his cock as he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from coming too fast.

“Oh fuck,” he heard himself say, pushing into Sky’s mouth, all the way down his throat, and Sky shoved him back. He didn’t choke, just pinned Prapai’s hips down with a pointed look that sent a heat wave rushing through Prapai’s chest.

Now this was the kind of morning greeting he needed every day.

“Oh, oh,” he groaned, stretching back as Sky swallowed him down, utterly shocked by how good Sky was at this, how he knew exactly what Prapai liked as he lavished attention on the head of his cock, slid up the ridges, his hands spreading Prapai’s thighs. He stared down, swallowing hard as his hips pushed up, breathing fast, heat gathering in his stomach.

He didn’t expect Sky to stop, to pull off abruptly with a wet pop that echoed in his ears, licking his spit-slicked lips and pinching Prapai’s thigh.

“That’s for getting yourself hurt,” he said pointedly as he wiped off his mouth and crawled back up, poking at the bruise on Prapai’s shoulder.

“Ow!” Prapai stared as Sky flopped down on the bed. He was painfully hard, wholly unsatisfied, and it didn’t make any sense. If this was supposed to make up for whatever that was last night, it didn’t. He’d have a thing or two to say to Payu next time he saw him. “Are you seriously not going to finish?” he asked, putting on his best sad pout, but Sky just shoved his face away.

“Don’t give me that look,” he just said, and Prapai had no response. It always worked with hookups. No one had ever turned him down. How was Sky immune to his charms? It couldn’t be possible. “I told you there would be consequences if you did something stupid.”

Prapai didn’t even know what that meant, but before he could ask, Sky took his face in his hands, pulling him close, and all Prapai could think was that no one could be this pretty in real life. Sky had those gorgeous golden eyes that seemed to shine in the sunlight, a glow around his whole face that made Prapai blink stupidly as all his thoughts turned to soft feather beds and long, luxurious bubble baths on lazy afternoons.

He didn’t even hear what Sky was saying, so lost in these strange thoughts crowding his head and his dick, still uncomfortably hard from the unfinished blow job, pulsed annoyingly.

“… And please tell me you’ve talked to P’Tan,” Sky said, and Prapai shook himself out of the sudden fascination with Sky’s face. What a strange moment.

“About what?” he asked, frowning at Sky’s groan. How did Sky know Namtan? How long had Payu been keeping this a secret and what exactly had he told Sky about him?

“P’Pai, you were supposed to ask her weeks ago,” Sky said, sounding frustrated. He sighed, though, fingers on Prapai’s cheeks as he licked his lips. “Just call her today, okay?”

Prapai didn’t know what to say, but any questions fizzled out of his brain when Sky leaned in and kissed him.

It certainly didn’t help his hard-on, but there was something strangely intimate about it, about the way Sky kissed him so gently, so differently than he was used to.

It was almost comforting, his traitor brain thought, but that couldn’t be true. He didn’t even know Sky, and whatever he was talking about, he had to mean someone else. Payu maybe. He didn’t know.

“I have to go meet Rain,” Sky said when he pulled away and Prapai had no idea who that was. He didn’t bother asking as Sky slid away from him on the bed, leaving Prapai with his unfulfilled cock on full display. “And don’t jerk off in the shower. I’ll know.”

Prapai just watched Sky head for what was probably a closet and he shook his head. Payu was going to hear about this and he wasn’t going to get away with whatever joke he was trying to play.

*

Prapai found Payu elbow-deep in grease, walking up on his legs sticking out from under a car in the shop.

“If you’re trying to prank me, you can do better,” he said, hearing the clink of tools pause underneath the car.

The rest of the shop was empty of workers this morning, sunlight streaming through the windows. It promised to be a beautiful day, but Prapai was more interested in what explanation Payu had for dumping him with some call boy who didn’t even do his job. He wondered how much Payu was paying for this service.

“Prank?” he heard Payu ask, not bothering to roll out from under the car.

Prapai kicked at his leg instead. “What were you thinking taking me to that Sky guy?”

For a moment, Payu didn’t reply, and Prapai waited. He had never had to pay for it, and he didn’t know exactly what was expected, but he thought an orgasm at least.

Payu rolled out from under the car finally, a narrow eyebrow arched as he stared up at Prapai.

“’That Sky guy?’” he repeated slowly, sitting up and wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. “You mean your fiancé?”

Scoffing, Prapai laughed. “Fiancé, hilarious. Since when are you funny?”

Payu wasn’t laughing, though, and he climbed up from the floor, gazing at Prapai with his eyes narrowed as though trying to figure out if he was joking or not.

Prapai was most definitely not joking. He would never in a million years have a fiancé. What would make Payu even think it? He’d rather die than be shackled to another person for the rest of his life.

“Sky is your fiancé,” Payu said after a minute, perfectly serious in a way that made Prapai pause. “You don’t remember that?”

Prapai paused, concerned for a brief second at the implication that he didn’t remember things about his own life. But Payu had to be fucking with him.

“It’s impossible,” he said simply, shaking his head, clapping Payu on the shoulder, but Payu’s expression didn’t falter. “I would never get married. There’s way too many people I haven’t slept with yet.”

Payu just looked increasingly suspicious as his hands came to his hips. Prapai didn’t know why. This was an elaborate joke for sure, and it was less and less funny as the minutes passed and Payu didn’t admit it.

“What are you talking about, Pai? You cried like a baby when he finally said yes.”

Prapai could only stare, as if the words coming out if Payu’s mouth made absolutely no sense. They didn’t. He would never propose to anyone. Had he finally given in to his mother’s demands to set him up? No, he wouldn’t have done that either.

“Maybe we should take you to get checked out,” Payu said as Prapai stared unseeingly at the car in front of him. “I think you might have hit your head harder than we thought.”

“I’m fine,” Prapai said sharply, shaking his head. He felt perfectly fine except for the bruise on his shoulder. But his head was fine. “I’m not going to a hospital.”

Payu frowned, lips pursed as if he didn’t agree. Prapai didn’t care what Payu thought, if he thought he was losing his mind or whatever. He was thinking perfectly rationally, and Sky being his fiancé didn’t make any sense.

Sky was pretty, Prapai could admit. He had those beautiful amber eyes and soft, warm hands that tingled when they’d touched his face earlier. And he gave amazing blow jobs, but what was so special about that? There were plenty of beautiful people in the world, and Prapai had slept with his fair share. What made Sky any different?

“Maybe it’s just short-term amnesia,” Payu suggested after a second, and Prapai frowned.

“Oh yeah? How did I meet Sky?”

“At a race, four years ago.”

Four years? Prapai scoffed. No way would he ever be with someone that long. The longest relationship he’d ever had was probably two weeks and only because he’d been out of town that long in between dates.

“I think you might have hit your head,” he told Payu, shaking his shoulder, but Payu wasn’t dropping the facade.

It had to be a joke. A very bad joke that Prapai just wasn’t getting.

Payu fixed Prapai with a very serious look that made him pause, suddenly concerned. “You love Sky. You’d do anything for him. And you’re getting married in two weeks, so whatever this is—amnesia or cold feet, don’t tell Sky about it.”

“Two weeks?!” Prapai’s mouth dropped open at the idea, shocked. That couldn’t be possible. His chest clenched at the thought of marriage, of forever with someone. Who had tricked him into this? He would never have willingly proposed this, right?

Payu didn’t seem impressed by his shock, narrowing his eyes instead. “Rain is with Sky right now shopping for groomsmen favors, although I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to get Namtan’s and make it special.”

Namtan a groomsman? He paused. “Is that what I was supposed to ask her? Why would I ask her and not Plerng?”

“I don’t know,” Payu said, sounding annoyed now. If anyone should be annoyed, it should be Prapai. He was the one with a sudden fiancé that no one would explain to him, planning a wedding in two weeks to someone he didn’t even remember. Was he just supposed to pretend it was all okay?

“Who’s Rain?” he asked after a second, and Payu just sighed.

“It’s probably a good idea that you go home and spend some time with Sky. Maybe it’ll help you remember.”

“Home with Sky?” he repeated slowly, skeptical. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have minded spending more time with the pretty dark-haired boy who kissed him so gently it made his heart flutter like a baby butterfly, but without sex involved, he wasn’t even sure where to start. “What about my condo?”

Payu’s frown deepened. “That is your condo. You live there with Sky. You have since you sold the other one.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would I sell it?” Prapai asked, shaking his head, but Payu paused and didn’t reply, a momentary hesitation as though he wasn’t sure how to answer that.

That condo had been perfectly fine—just the right distance from the races to crash there afterwards, beautifully decorated to impress his guests, with plenty of flat surfaces for fucking. Why would he give that up for this new place with Sky? Sure, it was nice enough, but his sleek, sexy furniture was gone, replaced with soft, comfortable couches and chairs. At least the table had seemed sturdy enough for sex.

His phone vibrated in his pocket as Prapai struggled to work it out. He still didn’t understand why he would ever have chosen to settle down, and what made Sky so special.

Pulling it out, he frowned. “It’s Sky,” he said, scanning the message. “He says he’s on his way back.”

There was more, a complaint about Rain and his lack of taste, but it didn’t seem relevant to tell Payu as Prapai tucked the phone away and hesitated. Was he supposed to just go home and pretend everything was fine? He wasn’t opposed considering he had no idea what sort of drama might come from admitting he couldn’t remember anything. The less drama Prapai had in his life, the better. That was one of the many reasons he didn’t bother with relationships, so how could he have gotten stuck in this one?

“You should go,” Payu said seriously, rolling up his sleeves. “Try to jog your memory.”

“What if I say something stupid?”

Payu smirked, shaking his head. “Then he’ll know it’s still you.”

“Fuck off,” Prapai said, shoving him slightly. At least some things didn’t change. But other things had, and Prapai couldn’t stop the unfamiliar prickle of unease bubbling up inside as Payu sat down on his board and slid back under the car.

*

Sky wasn’t home yet when Prapai made his way up to the condo and unlocked the door with the card in his wallet. Glancing around, he made a face at the furniture, so plush and squishy and not sexy at all. He wondered if any of his old furniture had survived this relationship, more specifically the chaise lounger that he’d gotten so much pleasure on.

Flopping down on the couch, he picked up one of the books on the table. It was a manga he didn’t recognize. Clearly Sky’s. So what in here was his?

Peering around, he spotted a few things—a piece of art from his old condo, an old sweatshirt slung over the kitchen chair, a painted cup on the counter that was one of a set his mother had given him when he’d gotten his first condo. He definitely lived here, he decided, pulling out his phone when it vibrated with a text.

It was Namtan, a picture of a soft pink-colored dress popping up on the screen with a question of if this would work for the ceremony as well as a reminder that she would be picking up his custom tux on Monday.

He didn’t know how to answer any of that, and he set the phone down as his heart pounded, suddenly nervous. Who had talked him into this? Someone had to have done it because there was no way Prapai would have willingly agreed to marriage.

But as he set the manga back on the table, a piece of paper fluttered out from between the pages. A wedding invitation—pure white with curly gold script inviting people to celebrate the union of Prapai and Sky. There was even a photo of him and Sky, both beaming as if this was the only thing in the world.

Prapai couldn’t make his brain comprehend the image, scoffing as he shoved the invitation back in the book. Maybe Payu was right and this was just some weird amnesia thing and he really did know Sky. Maybe everything Payu said was true, but Prapai didn’t quite believe it. It was too strange, too unbelievable that he would have decided to settle down.

The front door opened, drawing Prapai’s attention to Sky coming in. He dropped his bag by the door with a sigh as he slipped his shoes off and ran a hand through his hair as if he’d had a particularly long morning. Prapai could relate.

Even though he knew, had been told by Payu, that Sky was his boyfriend, his fiancé, it still surprised him when Sky came over so easily and sunk down beside him on the couch, practically in his lap. It wasn’t uncomfortable but still unusual to have someone outside his family act so familiar.

“You won’t believe what Rain wanted to get for gifts,” Sky said simply, and Prapai knew he should have been listening, trying to remember something about Sky, but he was just looking at him instead.

“Hmm?” he asked when it became clear Sky was waiting for a response. Sky shook his head, as though he expected the distraction.

“He wanted to get fancy robes with everyone’s name embroidered on them,” Sky said, rolling his eyes as though it was a ridiculous idea. “You know he just wants one so he can wear it around Payu and they can play some weird sex game.”

Prapai frowned slightly, unsure what to say. “Uh huh.”

Sky didn’t seem to notice, though, rearranging himself into Prapai’s lap, head cradled between his thighs, and Prapai blinked stupidly. This was new. New and not unpleasant but still strangely unfamiliar.

“Did you talk to P’Tan?” Sky asked, fingers fiddling absently with the hem of Prapai’s shirt, and his dick twitched despite himself. He hoped Sky couldn’t feel it, but he supposed Sky wouldn’t mind considering they were apparently engaged. He still wasn’t sure how that had happened. But at least Sky was nice to look at and Prapai caught himself staring at the way Sky licked his lips. “P’Pai?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” Prapai said, shaking himself. Technically, he had gotten a text from her.

“So she’s going to be your best man?”

Prapai jerked his chin, half in agreement. He didn’t actually know the answer to that, but it seemed to satisfy Sky at any rate, who nodded.

He paused. “Remind me why I didn’t ask Plerng?”

“Because all he cares about is sleeping with the waiters,” Sky said dismissively. And Prapai had to admit that sounded about right. “He was fine with it as long as he got the plan the bachelor party, which I’m sure will be awful. And besides, P’Tan is most of the reason we’re together.”

“She is?”

Sky glanced up at him, a skeptical look on his face and Prapai wondered if he’d just fucked up with that question.

“Don’t pretend she wasn’t the one who told you to stop trying to buy me off and actually be sincere. If you’d sent one more bouquet of flowers, I was going to toss them out the window.”

Prapai couldn’t argue with that, mostly because he didn’t remember.

“I clearly won you over anyway,” he said, surprised when Sky scoffed.

“It wasn’t your charm that did it.”

Then what was? Charm had always worked with every other person he’d been interested in. Most of the time, he didn’t even have to do any work to get them into his bed. He supposed he’d never really tried to win anyone over before either. The question was why had he tried with Sky?

Maybe it was the unimpressed look Sky shot him, even though he was lying in his lap, sliding his hand underneath Prapai’s shirt and grazing along his stomach. He felt something flutter underneath Sky’s touch, unexpected. It was such a contrast—Sky rolling his eyes while his fingers crept along the waistline of his pants. Was he just supposed to pretend it wasn’t happening? Did his unknown self have far more restraint than he currently felt with the warmth of Sky’s head resting against his dick.

He tried not to think about it, unsure if that was even allowed. He supposed it must be considering how Sky had woken him up. But Prapai wasn’t stupid—even though they were apparently in a relationship, that didn’t mean he could do whatever he wanted. After all, he didn’t know Sky. He didn’t know what he liked, how he liked it, if he’d get offended that this was turning Prapai on.

Normally, Prapai wouldn’t have even considered it. His hookups were just one or two time things and the whole point was to get off. But whatever his relationship with Sky, it wasn’t just sex. And that was the strangest part of this.

“So… did you decide on a gift?” he asked when he couldn’t think of what else to say that wouldn’t give away that he had no idea what Sky was talking about. What else was he supposed to do? Payu had said not to tell Sky he didn’t remember, and usually, Prapai wouldn’t bother taking advice from Payu about guys, but in this case, he might be right.

Bringing up this impending wedding probably wasn’t the best idea, but Prapai didn’t know what else to say that wouldn’t tip off Sky to the fact that he was bullshitting his way through this. Why was he bullshitting his way through this? Wouldn’t it be easier to admit he didn’t remember any of this?

No, he told himself as Sky sighed, gazing up at him, and something in the look made his chest clench, as if it knew something he didn’t. No, he’d just figure it out and everything would be fine. Except that whole getting married problem…

“No,” Sky said, sounding annoyed, and his hand pressed up Prapai’s stomach slowly, almost as an afterthought. But it was very much a forethought to Prapai. “And we’re running out of time.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something,” Prapai said uselessly. He was no good at this. The closest he came to planning parties at work was Namtan handing him a list of purchases to approve. She usually didn’t let him within a hundred feet of party planning.

“Maybe we can ask your mom for suggestions tomorrow,” Sky said, and Prapai was distracted from the sweep of Sky’s fingers under his bellybutton at the mention of his mother.

“My mom?”

Sky’s chin tilted back, a twitch to his eyebrows at the question. “Brunch tomorrow? With your family. Did you forget?”

“No,” Prapai lied quickly. Brunch with his family, huh? So Sky knew his family. Of course he did, his brain told him. His mother had probably orchestrated this whole thing, guilted him into it, somehow convinced him marriage was inevitable. She must have.

Not that Sky seemed like a bad choice, Prapai thought, but since when would he have given in to the idea? There was no way he would have come to it on his own.

“You forgot,” Sky said, not sounding surprised, and his hand slid from under Prapai’s shirt finally, smoothing down his hem. Pushing himself up, Prapai almost mourned the loss of warmth in his lap. It had been surprisingly comfortable, definitely different than any other hookups he’d had. He’d never kept any of them around long enough to do this, he supposed. But it was nice. It was different.

“I did not forget,” he argued even though he definitely had. But in his defense, he’d forgotten everything about Sky apparently.

He blinked when Sky reached for his face, turning his chin. “Just don’t forget on the actual wedding day, okay?”

Prapai was glad he didn’t have to respond as his chest clenched with fear, eased unexpectedly by the kiss Sky pressed to his lips. He didn’t know why it worked, sure it was just something relating to being touched, which had always helped calm him down growing up. It wasn’t even a deep kiss, the kind Prapai usually liked, just soft and gentle that made him feel weirdly tingly. Carefully, he reached for Sky, sliding his hands around his waist, and Sky just made a soft noise before pulling back.

“I still have to call a bunch of people and confirm stuff,” Sky said, almost reluctantly, as though he would rather stay there and kiss Prapai. At least that was familiar. He didn’t expect Sky to lean into his ear and lick the lobe, and his eyes went wide. “If you’re good at brunch tomorrow—and that means no feeling me up at the table and no stupid competitions with your brother over my attention—I’ll forget you got yourself in an accident and you can finally have you what you want.”

Prapai didn’t even know what it was but his dick pulsed anyway at Sky’s breath on his ear, the teasing kiss he left on his neck before moving back. He wanted it, whatever it was. He knew that much.

He jumped a little as Sky’s hand patted his crotch—so much for not being obvious. Sky seemed to know from the way he smirked at Prapai.

“You can do that, right?”

Prapai had no choice but to nod, both confused and turned on, eager to find out exactly what Sky was going to give him. If the look in Sky’s eye was any indication, he would like it.

He watched Sky climb off the couch, following him all the way until he disappeared into the bedroom. He had a nice ass and nice legs, he caught himself thinking, and he shot a look at his dick stirring under his jeans. Apparently being in a relationship didn’t guarantee sex—the one perk he would have expected in exchange for giving up everyone else. Somehow, he doubted Sky was good enough to make him forget about all the other people he’d been with. It just didn’t seem possible.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” he told his dick pointedly, spreading his legs on the couch. He couldn’t let himself get carried away imagining what Sky might do, but he’d do his best to find out tomorrow.

*

Prapai had to stop thinking with his dick or else he would have found a way out of this so-called brunch. Instead, he had let Sky lead the way to his parent's house, through the large double doors, and into the backyard where his mother had set up an extensive table filled with fruits and various dishes that were certainly not Prapai’s favorite.

Plerng had immediately grabbed Sky into a hug, which Sky politely brushed off with a look at Prapai, as though warning him not to get upset. What was there to be upset about? Except that maybe his brother was hanging on his apparent fiancé.

“You’re late,” his mother chastised as she ushered Prapai to the table, surrounded by the lush trees and softly-swaying flowers of the garden.

“Why are we out here?” Prapai asked as Phan set a vase of more flowers on the table. They never ate in the garden—usually reserved it for parties or receptions. No one casually spent time in it except the gardener.

“What do you mean?” she asked, setting a plate in front of him. “You always insist we come out here whenever Sky is over. ‘It’s his favorite place in the house’ — didn’t you tell me that after the first night he spent here?”

It was strange to think that Prapai knew Sky that well, that he’d ever know anyone that well. Hell, that he’d willingly bring someone to his family home.

But Sky did look at home there, laughing with his brother about something, quietly accepting Phan’s compliments on his outfit, catching Prapai’s glance across the table and smiling in return. A secret smile that Prapai probably should have known the meaning of, but he didn’t.

“You’re not going to wear a white suit, are you?” Plerng asked, breaking through Prapai’s thoughts as they all sat down around the table. Unsurprisingly, although still unusual to Prapai, Sky slid in right next to him as if that was his spot. And maybe it was from the way no one batted an eye. “Because you can’t pull that off.”

“Excuse me?” Prapai asked, eyebrow rising. He could pull off any color suit. He was distracted from arguing, though, as he glanced down at Sky’s hand sliding to his thigh and squeezing. Gentle, almost warning. Strangely intimate in a way Prapai had never experienced before.

“He had an emerald green suit specially made for the ceremony,” Sky answered, and Prapai tore his gaze away from Sky’s hand to look at him.

“Aw,” Phan cooed from across the table, in between passing dishes. “Your favorite color. That’s so sweet.”

It was sweet, unusually sweet, Prapai found himself thinking. Then again, the whole situation was unusual. Him, getting married? It seemed insane to go along with it when he didn’t even remember agreeing to it. But how was he supposed to call it off? Payu had flatly told him not to, and from the way his mother beamed at the both of them, he didn’t think she’d be on board either.

Not that pleasing his mother was top of his priority list, but how long could he let this go on—how long could he wait to see if he remembered anything—before he had to stop it?

“You know, when Pai first told me about Sky, I thought he was playing a joke on his poor old mother,” his mom said with a fond look at Prapai. “I never thought we’d end up here, just two weeks away from a wedding.” She paused, and Prapai thought he might have seen a tear in her eye. “Sky, I’ve never seen my son as settled and as happy as he has been with you, and I am so glad to have you as part of the family.”

They really did love Sky, he thought, glancing around the table at the smiling faces, at the way Sky ducked his head as though embarrassed, the tips of his ears pink in the soft morning sunlight filtering through the trees.

“Yeah, P’Pai,” Plerng added, “thanks for taking him off the market for the rest of us!”

Phan slapped Plerng’s shoulder, a reprimand if Prapai knew anything. “They’re engaged, dumbass. You can stop trying to steal Sky.”

If Prapai knew anything, it was that his siblings took after himself. Inevitable, he supposed, when he’d been the one around for most of their childhood—teaching them the ways of the world, taking care of them when they got sick, assuring them that it wasn’t the end of the world when their crushes didn’t like them back.

That must have been what Sky was talking about, warned him not to fight with his brother about. At the moment, Prapai was less concerned with Plerng’s ulterior motives and more concerned with how his mother was smiling at the two of them, as if they made a perfect picture.

“So, Sky,” she said, passing over a bowl full of fruit. “How’s work at the architecture firm?”

Architect? So that’s what he did. Sky couldn’t be older than, what, twenty-two, twenty-three? Prapai wasn’t going to ask. Even he knew that would be rude, and he was supposed to know already.

“It’s going well,” Sky replied, glancing at Prapai as though he understood something about his answer.

His mom sighed, peeling an orange slowly. “I don’t know why you don’t just come work for us. You’re at the office enough, you practically do already.”

She must have really liked Sky, Prapai thought, as Sky smiled and shrugged. It wasn’t as if they hired just anyone off the street and certainly none of Prapai’s other conquests fit the bill as someone employable by the business.

“I like the separation, doing things on my own,” Sky said simply, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

“P’Pai too annoying to be around all day, huh?” Plerng asked from across the table and Prapai took the opportunity to shoot him a look. He was a joy to be around, thank you very much. Of course, he’d never dream of keeping a fuckboy around the office. That would cause all sorts of problems.

Phan leaned into Plerng, a smirk on her face, an elbow in his side. “You know P’Pai doesn’t get any work done when Sky’s there anyway.”

Was Sky really that distracting? Glancing over, Prapai let his gaze skim down his face, the way Sky bit back his smile at their words. Soft, pink lips, a long striking neck as he lifted his chin. His collarbones were hidden underneath his shirt, but Prapai had seen them before, a brief glance this morning when Sky had rolled out of bed and pulled off his tee-shirt, exposing all of his skin to Prapai’s gaze.

There was no denying that Sky was pretty, but Prapai had been with plenty of pretty people before. What made Sky so different?

“Poor Namtan,” his mom said, breaking him out of his thoughts, and he frowned at her instead. “She works so hard to keep you on track.”

That was a bit much, Prapai admitted. Sure, he sometimes slacked off, but he always got his work done and he’d never gotten in serious trouble for it.

“I can handle myself.”

No one seemed to pay him any attention, except for Sky, whose hand squeezed his leg again. He didn’t know what it meant this time, and Sky’s expression gave away nothing as he went on eating.

“Remember when they first started going out?” Phan asked, laughing. “P’Tan said that you sent dinner to Sky every night for a month and that you made her stay to discuss what to send every time.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Prapai heard himself balk before he could stop himself, and every gaze swiveled to him. Fuck. He floundered for a second to cover. “It-it wasn’t every night.”

He had no idea what the truth was, but he would never have been so desperate for a guy that he would agonize for a month, pursue him for a month.

Prapai was the one that was pursued. People spent days, months, weeks, trying to get his attention, and that was how he liked it. What would have made him waste his time just for one guy?

Sky didn’t seem concerned with his answer, patting his arm instead. “He learned eventually.”

“What?” Prapai asked, confused.

“That it was better to show up in person.”

Plerng scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause you wouldn’t open the door.”

Sky smirked, shrugged, and Prapai glanced at him. So Sky had turned him down? That must have been why he’d tried so hard. But why hadn’t he moved on once he’d gotten what he wanted? There wouldn’t have been a reason to stay, not one that Prapai could think of anyway.

“But you did eventually,” Prapai said after a second as Sky stole a piece of pork from his plate.

“I don’t think talking Rain into giving you the key when I was sick counts as me letting you in,” he said simply, but his gaze was strangely fond even as he tried to hide it. “You probably would have broken the door down eventually.”

It didn’t sound like Prapai at all, but everyone around the table just laughed, and he had to resign himself to the idea that maybe when it came to Sky, something was different. He was different. It didn’t seem right, but what other explanation could there be?

*

Sky had insisted on helping with the clean-up, putting away the food and helping Phan with the dishes even though there was staff to do it. Prapai found himself lingering in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Sky and Phan laugh at something. He seemed to fit in perfectly with his family, which was more worrying than anything.

Prapai couldn’t remember a single person he’d been with that he would have considered bringing home, let alone someone his family would embrace as much as they did Sky.

Leaning against the door frame, he watched Sky duck his head while talking to Phan, reaching for a dish towel to dry the bowls. His face lit up with a smile and something deep in Prapai’s chest stirred unexpectedly at the sight.

“Hey, P’Pai.” Plerng stepped up behind him, pulling his attention away. “I’ve been thinking about the bachelor party.”

Bachelor party. Any stirring in Prapai’s chest turned to lead at the thought. A bachelor party because he was supposed to be getting married to this guy. Shit.

“I know you said nothing crazy,” Plerng went on since Prapai’s tongue was stuck in his mouth, “but what about a strip club? Or at least a bar!”

“Plerng,” he said, half a warning, half reticent to hear any more about this proposed bachelor party.

Plerng put on his best pleading eyes—something he had certainly learned from Prapai. “Come on, let me have some fun! You wouldn’t let me be your best man, so you’ve gotta give me this.”

Confused, Prapai turned fully away from Sky in the kitchen to Plerng. “I thought you didn’t want to be the best man.”

“Of course I didn’t. Way too much work,” Plerng scoffed, and Prapai supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. “Plus you think I want to follow you around all day to stop you from sneaking off to fuck Sky wherever you can? I’ll leave that to P’Namtan. But you promised I could plan the bachelor party so you have to give me something.”

Prapai had no idea what he had promised in some unremembered past life, but arguing with Plerng seemed pointless at the moment. It was just some party. Hopefully by the time it rolled around, he’d have figured a way out of this whole mess.

“We can go to a bar,” he said finally, and Plerng grinned.

“Great! It will all be very low-key,” he assured with a very unbelievable wink.

He should probably reign that in somehow, Prapai thought as Plerng skipped off to inevitably plan some debauched party of some sort that Prapai would normally love, but the implication it carried enough to weigh him down as he stood there, sighing.

“What was that?”

Prapai jumped at Sky’s voice over his shoulder, heart beating fast as though he’d been doing something wrong. Sky just tilted his head to the side, a slightly suspicious arch to his eyebrow.

“He was just talking about the bachelor party,” Prapai said after a second, surprised when Sky nodded slowly, stepping into Prapai’s space, placing a gentle hand on his chest.

“You know I don’t mind the bachelor party, and I want you to have fun, but be careful,” he said, eyes flicking to Prapai’s, and Prapai felt the same unfamiliar tug that made him want to agree with everything Sky said. “I want you coming home to me.”

“I will.” The words spilled from his lips as though he knew it was what he was supposed to say, what Sky wanted him to say. “I will.”

It surprised him how easily he said it, and he was even more surprised when Sky smiled at him and leaned into him, close enough to kiss if he tried.

“Good,” he just said, leaving Prapai on edge as he moved back, and Prapai blinked. What a tease, he only thought as Sky breezed past him, and he couldn’t help staring after.

*

Being in a relationship was exhausting, Prapai thought once they were finally home and he could sink into the couch and press a hand to his eyes. People did this willingly? He didn’t even care where Sky went, grateful for a minute of quiet. He loved his family, but they could be a bit much, especially, it seemed, when Sky was around. Sky, to his credit, had taken their fawning with a grain of salt, never encouraged it, hadn’t bathed in it like some of Prapai’s past partners might have done, proud they’d managed to trap him.

He didn’t think Sky had trapped him, but he still couldn’t figure out what had led them to this point. Marriage, bachelor parties, emerald green suits, happily-ever-after?

Opening his eyes, Prapai heard a door creak open. Glancing over his shoulder, he paused as Sky stepped out of the bedroom. He’d changed, exchanged the more conservative shirt for an oversized sweatshirt that fell just to the top of his thighs. Underneath, he wore what Prapai could only describe as teeny tiny shorts that exposed his long legs to Prapai’s gaze.

He couldn’t help the way he stared as Sky rounded the couch, a sudden urge to run his fingers up Sky’s calf, to press his mouth to the inside of his thigh and suck a mark there.

Jerking his gaze away at Sky’s fingers on his chin, drawing his eyes up to where he stood before him, Prapai blinked stupidly. It was just that he hadn’t gotten off in a few days that was doing this to him, that was making him think these things.

“You were… surprisingly good today,” Sky said after a minute, tongue flicking out to lick his lips, fingers pushing through Prapai’s hair. It felt nice, he caught himself thinking as he gazed up at Sky. But it wasn’t just nice—it was alluring when Sky’s fingernails scraped against his scalp and he took an unexpected breath. That was good. He liked that.

Was Sky actually going to… His eyebrows rose as Sky shuffled in between his legs and leaned down, hands on the back of the couch, so close to his mouth. Lifting his chin, he tried for a kiss, but Sky avoided him easily. If he was going to have to suffer through this relationship, the least he should get out of it was sex.

“Do you think you’ve made up for your accident? For doing the race even though I told you not to?” Sky asked, and Prapai hesitated.

“Yes?” He cared more about if Sky would let him touch, lifting his hands and hesitating, clenching his fingers as they got too close to the soft, creamy thigh in front of him.

He closed his eyes as Sky leaned in and he felt the warm breath against his neck, teasing as he stretched into it.

“Do you think being good means you deserve a reward?” Sky’s fingers pushed through his hair, tighter as his chin tilted to Sky’s mouth, lips grazing down his throat.

Sky was doing it on purpose, he realized, teasing him, swaying him to his touch, and his body went willingly. It wasn’t unusual, people trying to seduce him, hands all over him, hoping he might glance in their direction. But never did someone stop him from touching, pull away when he tried to kiss them. It just made him want to try harder.

“Yes,” he answered again when Sky waited, nuzzled under his ear and left a lick that Prapai felt all the way into his stomach as his dick stirred under his trousers.

The smile on Sky’s face was smug when Prapai opened his eyes, smug and sweet and adorable in a way that Prapai had never seen before. How could someone be both a horrible tease and so absolutely gorgeous at the same time? Well, obviously he could, but Sky? Sky could too.

Taking his chance, he let his hands curl around Sky’s thighs, and Sky didn’t stop him, only glanced down briefly.

Instead, Sky leaned back in, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, another to the bow of his lip as Prapai nudged back, annoyed by how slow this was going.

“Maybe you should suffer for it, just a little,” Sky breathed, and Prapai felt his smirk against his neck, groaned as he stretched. This was going to take forever, wasn’t it? Prapai wasn’t exactly the most patient person in the world, especially when he’d been unnecessarily celibate the last couple days with a supposed-fiancé in the house.

Leaning forward, his eyes went wide when Sky’s hands shoved him back, pressed his shoulders to the couch and didn’t let him up as Sky climbed into his lap, thighs spread on either side of him.

“Stay,” Sky coached, gentle but sharp, strong enough that Prapai thought he should obey. He wasn’t used to being told what to do in this particular situation, usually had to take control on his own with his partners perfectly happy to let him do all the work. And he didn’t mind. As long as every felt good, it was a success in his book.

He liked it, though, tilting his head to the side curiously as Sky’s hands slid down his chest, pulled the buttons of his shirt apart. It wasn’t fair that Sky had on that big, comfy-looking but ultimately all-encompassing sweatshirt. He wanted to see his chest, see if the flush would spread all the way up his collarbones, to the tips of his ears.

He did get a good look at Sky’s thighs, warm and heavy over his lap, his fingers still curled into the soft flesh. Sky hadn’t forced his hands away, let him hold on, almost as a treat.

“Uh uh,” Sky reprimanded when Prapai tried to move his hands, slide them to the inside of his thighs, press up closer to the rise under his shorts. “Who said you could touch?”

Raising an eyebrow, Prapai couldn’t believe Sky was going to stop him when he was already on top of him, hands sliding back up his shoulders now that his shirt hung open, rising up on his knees to get the extra height over him on the couch. He did stop, though, pulling his hands back. If Sky said no, it was no. No one could accuse him of not being a gentleman.

Sky’s smirk returned as he looked down at Prapai, a heated gaze that rolled through Prapai’s stomach.

“I’ll tell you when,” Sky said, and Prapai wanted to complain, but all thoughts of arguing went out the window when Sky finally leaned in and kissed him.

Prapai had been kissed before, kissed by plenty of people. Good kisses, bad kisses, wet and sloppy kisses, hard, painful kisses, kisses that were just too soft and unformed. But none of them had been like this.

Sky knew exactly how to do it—tilt his head and lick inside Prapai’s mouth, hard enough to make his cock stir, soft enough to make his heart flutter in some stupid way. Just enough heat to make him shiver and want more, arching into Sky, reaching for his neck without thinking.

He should have expected the way Sky’s hands closed around his wrist and yanked, made an annoyed noise against Sky’s mouth.

“Here,” Sky murmured, pulling Prapai’s hand to the small of his back instead. “Keep it here.”

At least it was touching something, Prapai thought vaguely, distracted by the slide of Sky’s tongue, chasing after it to deepen the kiss as blood pounded through his veins. Sky didn’t seem to want to take this slow, and Prapai was glad.

He supposed if he remembered anything at all about Sky, it might be better, but this was pretty fucking good. The way that Sky rolled his body into Prapai’s, chest to chest, hips to hips, Prapai’s erection growing to full hardness as he caught a brush of Sky’s dick against his own.

His fingers curled into the back of the hoodie as Sky moved, kissed him deeply, bit at his bottom lip. He hissed at the sharp pain, soothed seconds later by Sky’s tongue. He opened his eyes to Sky’s knowing smile, a nudge against his nose that made his stomach bottom out.

“You remember our first time?” Sky asked after a second, moving down Prapai’s jaw, leaving wet, lingering kisses against his skin as he tried not to make an embarrassing noise.

Prapai couldn’t say that he did, and he hoped Sky wasn’t looking for an answer as he took a chance to slip his hand underneath the sweatshirt and press to his lower back.

Sky’s tongue slid down his neck, lapping at his collarbone, hands sliding the shirt over Prapai’s shoulders. “You really thought you were gonna get away with something, didn’t you?”

Prapai could only make a noise, a soft whine as Sky pressed his mouth to his chest, sucking a kiss into the skin. Fuck, he was good at this. Or else Prapai was just wound tight after the last few days.

Sky pulled back to meet Prapai’s gaze, almost fond this time, and something jumped in his chest at the look. It didn’t last long, though, and he was glad when Sky slid out of his grip to wiggle his shorts over his hips and drop to the floor. Then he could focus on the beauty that was Sky as he came back, got Prapai’s pants open, his dick out without much fanfare.

“I guess you did,” Sky answered himself after a second, pulling Prapai’s mouth to his and not reprimanding him this time as Prapai’s hand came up to his hip.

Sky’s fingers twined in his hair again, an almost painful-but definitely arousing tug as he kissed him, pulling Prapai against him until their bodies were practically one mass of heat and flesh, breaths panted between kisses, blood throbbing in his cock as he pushed it against Sky’s.

Prapai wasn’t used to this, to the way Sky took charge, knocking him back with a jolt, and his shoulders hit the cushion. Shaking his head, he tried to blink away the haze clouding his mind as he watched Sky dig in the cushions, coming up with a condom and lube, as if that was always there.

Tilting his head back, he groaned as Sky’s fingers rolled the condom onto his cock, a warning squeeze as if telling him not to come too soon. He wasn’t sure he could keep that promise with Sky’s breath hot in his ear, watching Sky’s own fingers, slick with lube pushing inside himself. Fuck, that was hot.

“Next time you think about racing before a big event, I want you to remember this,” Sky whispered, tugging at his earlobe with his teeth. Prapai wasn’t sure he’d be able to ever forget this. “I want you to remember how good you’ve got it and how much you’d hate if I never did it again.”

Prapai heard himself whine, though he was sure it had more to do with the weight of Sky’s body on the tip of his dick, a slow sink that set his skin on fire. He had to force himself to keep his eyes open, to watch the way Sky took his cock, every inch of it. He’d been accused of being too big before, always took a bit of prep to open his partners up, but Sky seemed to like the slight burn, bit his lip as though was enjoying it as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Sky didn’t even wait to adjust, muscles clenching around him as Prapai let out a breath.

He was so pretty, Prapai caught himself thinking, lost in the way Sky moved, rolled his hips and pulled Prapai in deeper. He looked completely at home there, riding Prapai’s cock, his own bobbing at his stomach, shiny with precome as Prapai reached for it.

It was hot under his palm as he slid his hand down, pulled, listening for any noise that Sky made. He heard it, the barest curse under his breath as Sky reached for the back of the couch to pull himself up, to hold on as he sped up.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Prapai couldn’t help mumbling as his head hit the cushion, heat rippling over his skin, coiling in his gut with every thrust, every roll of Sky’s hips, holding him there as his cock pulsed, tight. How could Sky be so good at this? No one had ever fucked him like this, rode him so well, blew his mind when Sky kissed him, bit at his lip, left him desperate and stupid, blinking away the spots in his vision when Sky pulled away.

“P’Pai,” Sky whined, and it just about undid him—soft and whiny and perfect as he gasped, pushed deep into Sky and Sky took every thick inch. No one had ever said his name like that, as if they just needed him, needed him to fuck them so good.

Prapai was the one who was good and fucked, though, looking down as he felt Sky’s dick pulse under his fingers. He was going to come—they both were if the way his stomach tightened was any indication.

“Do it,” Sky breathed, forcing Prapai’s eyes open, unclenching his jaw, their bodies rocking together as panted breaths filled the air. “Come inside me.”

“Fuck, Sky,” Prapai gasped, watching Sky lick his lips and exhale, as though on display as he tilted his chin back and Prapai could see where their bodies connected, flushed skin, deep red and throbbing.

He only lasted a few more thrusts, hips jerking, body tightening as he felt the heat release, the hot slick come of Sky’s orgasm practically matching his own on his bare stomach. His gaze was fixed on Sky, not on how good it felt to come, watching how his mouth fell open, eyes closed, head tilted back as if it was just as good for him. That was what Prapai wanted to see, loved to see, and Sky did not disappoint.

Panting, he took a deep breath as his body melted into the couch and Sky slid his arms around his neck, leaning into him. He just needed a minute to gather his senses, to think clearly again. He wasn’t sure that was possible after such good sex. It had never been that good before, and he could barely open his eyes as he felt Sky shift.

He was still inside Sky, softening slowly, but he didn’t try to pull out. That might be the wrong move, and besides, he couldn’t really move—too sated to even care about doing anything else.

“You’ll remember that next time, won’t you?” Sky asked a minute later, his mouth buried in Prapai’s neck.

If that was how it always was, Prapai wasn’t sure how he could have forgotten in the first place, but he shook his head anyway.

“I’ll remember,” he said, almost a promise as he blinked slowly, feeling Sky’s heartbeat against his own. This part was different, the closeness, the intimacy of Sky’s hand carding through his messy hair and pressing a kiss to his temple.

Sky just made a noise, moving back finally. He tilted his head to the side, glancing down at his spent cock. He looked back up. “You get five minutes, then I want you naked on the bed.”

Prapai barely blinked as the words permeated the sex-haze in his mind. But Sky was rising off him, letting his cock slip out, messy with lube. Sky didn’t even seem to care, arching an eyebrow.

“You need more than five minutes?”

“No,” Prapai said, too quick. He didn’t need any time if it meant having Sky again, and he probably should have thought about that more, but he didn’t as he scrambled off the couch, tripping on his pants still bunched around his thighs. Shoving them off, he glanced up to the sight of Sky pulling his sweatshirt over his head and leaving it on the floor as his disappeared into the bedroom.

He may not know anything about Sky or how he ended up engaged, but he knew one thing—this part worked. This part worked very well.

*

There were papers to sign, reports to review, but Prapai wasn’t thinking about any of them as he gazed out the window of his office at the clear blue sky. Sky. He was thinking about Sky, about how many times he had taken him last night.

On the couch, on the bed, in the bath after a very long makeout session that left his lips sore, his cock hard and throbbing, desperate to slip inside Sky one more time and feel that overwhelming pleasure taking over with Sky on top. Prapai was certainly no virgin, but last night… fuck. He hadn’t known it could be that good with someone.

It had taken all his strength to get out of bed this morning, helped only by the fact that Sky had left early for work, and he couldn’t just roll over on top of him and insist they start out the day like they’d ended the night.

Sky was just… he sighed, staring unseeingly out the window, remembering the way Sky had climbed on top of him last night, ridden Prapai to within an inch of his life, had him practically begging for more. He’d admired the red marks left on Sky’s hips after the last round, left by his fingernail digging in, had dutifully obeyed when Sky was careful not to let him mark anywhere that would show up in photographs, moving his mouth to Sky’s inner thigh instead and so pleased at the sound Sky made above him, how his fingers tightened in his hair.

Blinking, he turned as the door opened behind him and Namtan stepped in, another stack of papers in her hands.

He couldn’t do any work today, not with the memory of Sky throwing his head back as he came so prominent in his mind. He’d be living off that memory for days.

“You need to sign off on these,” Namtan said with no preamble, dropping the papers in his inbox. “Make sure you do it before noon. And don’t forget the client meeting at two and the staff update at four.”

Prapai just made a vague noise, unsurprised when she only set her hands on her hips as though she knew what that meant.

“Whatever’s going on in your head today,” she said simply, shoving a pen under his nose, “you don’t have time to daydream about Sky and the honeymoon. You have things you need to get done.”

“Where are we going on the honeymoon?” Prapai asked, curious. Thinking of the wedding made him a little nauseous, but the idea of a honeymoon, on the other hand, was quite intriguing.

Sdhe sighed, as though it was a stupid question. “You asked me to book two weeks in Bali, remember? Please don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind to Tahiti because that honeymoon suite is nonrefundable.”

Prapai could already see it—two weeks in a gorgeous, private, luxury hut overlooking the water. Two weeks of Sky naked in his bed. He could get behind that idea.

Maybe there were some perks to marriage.

He shuddered at that thought. There was no upside to getting married—all it meant was that Prapai’s options dwindled to one person forever. Yes, sex with Sky was amazing, but amazing enough to give up everyone else forever?

“I haven’t,” he assured Namtan when she fixed him with a daring look.

“Good,” she said simply, tapping the papers again, and Prapai rolled his eyes. “Now, if Sky wants rose petals in the bath or a private tour of the island, that I can arrange.”

“You’d do that for him but not for me?” Prapai asked, scribbling his signature on the line she indicated. How did Sky have everyone wrapped so tightly around his finger? Is that how he’d gotten Prapai to agree to this whole wedding thing? Fucked him into submission and then asked when Prapai’s brain couldn’t function properly?

“You know I’d do anything for Sky,” she replied. “You’re lucky to have found him, more lucky he let you stick around.”

“I could still get anyone,” Prapai said, annoyed. Sky wasn’t the be all, end all of boyfriends.

Namtan’s glance was sharp as it flicked to him. “Don’t let him hear you say that. Why would you even think it?”

It surprised him, how serious she was. Before, she would have brushed him off, his stupid cockiness about his partners. He never expected the way she looked at him now, as if he’d said something terrible.

“I’m not,” he stuttered out a second later, feeling like a shamed child for a second as her gaze held.

“Are you getting cold feet?” she asked instead, and Prapai didn’t even know what to say.

Cold feet implied he’d wanted to do this at some point, that he remembered proposing to Sky, wanting to get married, to spend the rest of his life with one person. Sure, Sky was cute and funny and a little mean, which he liked, and he knew how to rock Prapai’s world in bed, but was all that enough to commit to forever?

“No,” he said finally, and it took a second for her gaze to soften, but it did and she swept the papers back into a neat pile.

“Then stop talking about who you could get. You’ve got Sky and there’s no one better. You tell me that all the time. He’s been all you’ve wanted since you met him, so now is not the time to go through the what-ifs. After everything he’s been through, that you’ve both been through, that he even agreed to this after so long, it’s a testament to your relationship.” She shot him a look as she gathered the papers. “So don’t you dare try to screw it up.”

Prapai could only stare after her as she left the office. Namtan had scolded him many times before about not doing his work, slacking off to pursue someone or other, but never had she done so so sternly as she had just now. She must really care about Sky. Everyone seemed to really care about Sky. Except him, because he couldn’t remember.

Smoothing his jacket, Prapai only frowned as he glanced out the window. If everyone loved Sky so much, there had to be a reason. Maybe it was time he figured it out.

Except… he had no idea how to do that, he thought as he turned his chair back to the window. How did one go about falling in love? He’d never wondered before and it seemed stupid to wonder now when apparently he was already in it. He just didn’t remember.

*

Somehow, Prapai made it through the day, through the meetings and Namtan’s constant reminders of work he needed to do. Any moment he got to himself, he found his mind wandering to Sky—to the night before, to Namtan’s warning, to Payu telling him to suck up whatever this was and deal with it.

Deal with it, he mocked to himself as he pushed open the door to the condo, lost in his own head as he slipped off his shoes. It was so easy for other people to say things like that—they weren’t the ones with a surprise fiancé and a wedding looming on the horizon. He doubted anyone else would be so chill if they’d woken up one day with a completely different life than they remembered.

Glancing up, Prapai paused as the spicy scent of cooking flooded his nose. He was drawn to the kitchen, pausing as his eyes fell on Sky. He hadn’t known he could cook. Prapai was certainly no use in the kitchen unless it involved blowjobs on the countertop.

As he came closer, he could see that it was one of his favorite dishes—basil pork with rice and a sunnyside up egg.

“Ooh,” he said, reaching out to to pluck a fresh green bean from the bowl.

“Hey!” Sky slapped his hand before he could get too far, and Prapai jerked it back with a pout. “Be patient.”

“But it smells good,” Prapai said, sliding up beside Sky. He’d never come home to someone cooking him dinner, unless he counted the chef at home, but that was totally different. This was Sky, skin stained with soy sauce, attempting to chop the chili into tiny pieces on the cutting board.

“It’ll taste better when it’s all put together,” Sky told him, glancing sideways at him, and Prapai felt a sudden urge to gather Sky into his arms and press a kiss to the back of his neck. It was a strangely intimate feeling that pulled at his chest, and he shook it away.

“Is it for me?” he asked, opting for flirting instead, something he could confidently do. Leaning into Sky’s shoulder, he let them press together, amused when Sky rolled his eyes.

“No, it’s for my other boyfriend.”

“Really?” Prapai asked, grazing a hand down Sky’s bare arm. If he could distract Sky, get him into bed again, then he wouldn’t have to think about everything else going on inside his head. “Is he handsome?”

Sky paused for a second, hand still on the knife. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Mmm, and is he charming?”

“Unfortunately,” Sky replied, and Prapai liked that, tucking his chin over Sky’s shoulder, an easy move to get closer.

“And what about smart?”

Sky smiled, chopping again and ignoring Prapai’s hand sliding around his waist. “Sometimes. Sometimes he’s a real idiot.”

Prapai wasn’t sure if he should be insulted or not, but he chose not when Sky shifted back against him, warm against his chest. Sky’s hair tickled his nose, and he leaned in, breathing in the scent of his cologne, heady and sultry.

“Then why are you with him?” Prapai asked, suddenly serious about the answer when Sky licked his lips and turned in his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“Because he loves me more than anything in the world,” Sky said, any trace of sarcasm gone, a light brush of his fingers tingling on Prapai’s cheek. “And I love him. Even when he’s being the most person annoying in the world and not letting me finish making dinner.” His smirk was back, and he shoved Prapai back a pace, returning to his dish.

Prapai was more surprised at the word love coming from Sky’s mouth. Not that everyone hadn’t told him, that he hadn’t suspected love was involved here. But he’d never said it to anyone before—other people had said it to him, but it had never really meant much. He’d always brushed those away as being part of the heat of the moment, a clingy hook-up who couldn’t tell the difference between sex and more. But Sky clearly meant it, and Prapai must have meant it before, when he’d said it at some point.

“Chop the basil,” Sky said when Prapai just stood behind him stupidly, trying to figure out how that worked.

“I can’t cook,” he said, shaking his head, and Sky scoffed.

“You can use a knife,” he said simply, pulling Prapai in next to him. “And you’re not nearly as bad as when we first met. All those late-night model-making sessions really paid off.”

He assumed Sky was talking architecture models, which he only knew because of Payu. Had he helped Sky with those? Had he willingly given up his time to make models with some guy? It sounded fake, but he had no evidence to the contrary. And it was surprisingly easy to cut the basil that Sky gave him. Maybe he had learned some things in the last few years with Sky.

He couldn’t help watching Sky as they stood side by side, him chopping up basil, Sky adding it to the mixture and stirring it gently. The condo was quiet around them except the sizzle of the wok, the humming coming from the fridge. Outside, the afternoon sun waned, casting long shadows over the furniture, and it felt like a fuzzy dream as the light fell behind Sky, a soft glow surrounding him, and Prapai had to shake the away the sudden throb in his heart.

Cooking was kind of fun, he thought, once he was less focused on the fact that it was all so painfully domestic and that he’d never done this with someone before. It was fun the way Sky smiled at him and tossed a piece of garlic at him. It was fun to hear the sharp sizzle of the wok when Sky dumped the mixture inside and swished it around as if he actually knew what he was doing. It was fun when Sky dragged him over and handed him the spatula, encouraging him to try.

“See?” Sky said when Prapai successfully didn’t burn anything. “You can do lots of things now that you couldn’t before we got together.”

“Like what?” Prapai asked, curious, fascinated by the way the meat browned, the way the spices melded together into a glorious wafting scent that infiltrated his nose.

Sky paused, arching an eyebrow, and for a second, Prapai worried he might have given himself away. He was just trying to figure out how he’d ended up here. What made Sky so special.

“For one, you can use an exacto knife without cutting yourself anymore,” Sky said simply, and that didn’t seem very impressive to Prapai. “And for another, you can ask me to dinner and I’ll say yes on the first try.”

So Sky resisted him, huh, Prapai thought. That would have been new to him. He did like the way Sky seemed to push back—certainly the way he had last night, had taken control without Prapai having to encourage him. And all of Sky’s sharp comments always seemed to be laced with affection that Prapai didn’t quite understand.

Prapai didn’t answer, confused when Sky turned to him from the stove.

“Ask me to dinner, P’Pai,” he said pointedly, raising an eyebrow, smiling slightly when Prapai realized what he meant. He wasn’t used to this kind of flirting. Was it flirting? Was it just… a relationship?

Stepping forward, he trapped Sky against the stove, careful not to get too close to the burner. “Want to have dinner with me?”

Sky’s gaze darted to his mouth before he answered, and it made Prapai smile. Apparently he wasn’t the only one distracted by inappropriate thoughts.

“I guess,” Sky said after a second, nonchalant, but he dragged his eyes back up before Prapai leaned in to kiss him.

He did it on instinct, tempted by the soft bow of Sky’s lips, the knowing smirk at the corner, wanting to taste him again, to feel that same flutter in his chest that usually had more to do with arousal than with how soft his partner’s mouth was, how Sky keened into him.

Sky’s hand wiggled between them, stopping the kiss from continuing despite what Prapai’s body wanted. He supposed it was probably a good idea to stop, not only because dinner was about to burn but also because kissing wasn’t going to help clear his head and help him think straight about all of this.

“How about you set the table?” Sky said easily, switching off the burner and checking the rice.

Right, the table, that was a good idea, Prapai agreed. Stepping back from Sky, he only had to check a few cupboards before he found the glasses—luckily, Sky was busy frying the eggs and putting together the dishes and didn’t notice.

This was all too easy, he thought, as he set the table and filled the glasses with water from the fridge. He could get lost in this apartment, this life, but was that even what he wanted? Some part of him must have, some blank part of his brain that had chosen all this. It had chosen Sky with his adorable smile when he glanced over his shoulder at Prapai, Sky with his sharp warning when Prapai tried to help him carry the dishes, Sky with the way he watched Prapai take the first bite to make sure it was good.

Prapai found himself smiling, a soft mush in his heart as Sky seemed satisfied that he liked it, and it should have worried him, but it didn’t. And that worried him most of all.

*

“How are things going?”

Prapai looked up from his plate, the fancy lunch that didn’t taste nearly as good as the dinner Sky had cooked the other day. He couldn’t help but shoot Payu a look for asking such a stupid question.

“How are things going?” he repeated slowly, pointing his spoon at Payu across the table. “You mean how are things going with the fiancé I don’t remember and the wedding I am supposed to be having in less than two weeks? How is that going?”

Payu nodded, seemingly ignoring his outburst. “Yeah.”

Annoyed, Prapai sat back in his chair and turned his gaze to the city spreading out below them. He didn’t know why he had thought meeting Payu might be helpful considering he was the only one who knew that Prapai had a sudden bout of amnesia, or whatever this was.

“Well,” he said finally, going over everything that had happened in the past few days, “Sky seems very happy with me, although I don’t know why because my experience in relationships seems to boil down to one-night-stands that are no longer in my phonebook—I checked—and although Sky is amazing in bed, I don’t know how we got from that to marriage. And let’s talk about that marriage and how much my family seems to love Sky. More than they love me apparently. Oh, and we’re honeymooning in Bali, apparently, and Namtan has already packed my swimming trunks, I’m sure.”

Payu didn’t even seem phased by Prapai and his rant, reaching for his glass.

“I can answer some of those,” he said simply, and Prapai scoffed.

“Are you going to?” He knew Payu well enough to know he preferred to watch people suffer instead of helping.

He wasn’t sure he even really needed answers to any of that. It was obvious why his family loved Sky—he was sweet and funny and didn’t hesitate to put Prapai in his place (honestly, Prapai kind of liked that too. It made him feel all tingly inside). What wasn’t obvious was what he was supposed do about all of this.

“Do you want me to?” Payu countered, eyes narrowed, and Prapai groaned.

“How long am I supposed to pretend to remember?” he asked instead. “You said I shouldn’t upset Sky, that maybe it would all come back to me, but it hasn’t. Am I just supposed to get married?”

Prapai could only ignore the truth for so long. When he was lying in bed and Sky snuggled into him and everything was warm and soft and cozy, he could forget that this was leading to marriage, to forever. But any time he thought about it, really thought about it, he got a terrible churning feeling in his stomach like he might be sick, a vice grip on his heart as it hammered in his ears.

“Is that the only thing that’s bothering you?” Payu asked, as if it wasn’t a big deal at all. As if he wouldn’t be freaking out if he had to suddenly get married.

“Should it be something else?”

To his annoyance, Payu’s mouth tightened, as if Prapai was the one being ridiculous here. He set his glass down and swept the stupid hair falling out of his ponytail behind his ear. Prapai knew he left it out on purpose—a calculated move to seem cooler than he was.

“It’s been a couple days,” Payu said simply. “What do you think of Sky?”

Prapai shrugged, noncommittal. “He’s fine.”

“Fine?”

Prapai scoffed. “He’s cute, I guess, and he rolls his eyes at me all the time, but holy fuck, is he good in bed. You have no idea. I could get used to that, at the very least.” He shook his head, though. “He’s a smart-ass, a little mean, but he’s also really sweet and it’s nice when he leans on me on the couch, and I always wake up with him clinging to me.” He didn’t mind that so much, had caught himself smiling the other morning as he got a good look at Sky’s sleepy expression, wrinkled nose as if annoyed to be woken up by the sunlight. He glanced at Payu, who hadn’t interrupted, chin on his hand as if he’d expected nothing less than this answer. “What?”

“Sounds like you like him.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be in love with him?” Prapai shot back, not really in the mood for Payu’s moody, cryptic advice.

“Some version of you already is,” Payu said simply, stirring the food on his plate. “You just don’t remember. But this version of you can admit that you like him, right?”

It didn’t even make sense, Prapai thought as he groaned.

“Sure, maybe,” he said instead, jerking his shoulders. He liked Sky—he could admit that. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that he was supposed to get married and the thought turned his stomach, Sky or no. “But there are plenty of other people I could like out there. So many people I haven’t yet.”

Payu sighed. “God, I forgot how much of a fuckboy you were before Sky.”

“Yeah,” Prapai said pointedly, leaning across the table. “Explain to me how one day I decided Sky was gonna be the only one.”

“I don’t know,” Payu admitted, at least sounding slightly annoyed now, not so calm. “I wasn’t in your head. I just know that one day, you were going after everything that moved and the next, you were simping over a drawing of wind on your hand and telling everyone who would listen how amazing Sky was.”

Running a hand over his face, Prapai didn’t answer. It sounded insane, even knowing it was him that had done it. He wasn’t denying that Sky was… different than anyone else he’d been with, that he made Prapai feel things he never had. Warm and fuzzy fluttering things from simple touches, feelings he’d only read about in books.

He just couldn’t shake the idea that there was still a whole world of people out there. And he’d only slept with such a small portion.

Would he be okay giving all that up? For Sky?

He didn’t know the answer to that, and Payu narrowed his eyes as if he knew exactly what he was thinking somehow.

“You’re not going to tell Sky you’re having second thoughts,” he said, less like a question and more like instructions.

Prapai frowned down at his plate, his unfinished meal. “I’m just not sure how long I should wait. I can’t get married like this. I don’t want to get married.”

For the first time, Payu looked concerned, though Prapai wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or Sky’s.

“Give it a few more days,” Payu said simply. “Maybe something will come back. And if it doesn’t, we can explain it to Sky and go from there.”

Prapai could only trust that that was the right answer, that Payu knew Sky well enough to know he should wait. At this point, everyone seemed to know Sky a hell of a lot better than Prapai did, so he’d have to believe it was the right thing to try. At least for now.

*

It was quiet in the condo, and Prapai barely noticed, focused on reading the emails on his tablet and typing out his answers. They were things he should have answered while at the office, but it never seemed to end. Ten more had popped up in between leaving the office and getting home.

At least the couch was comfortable, the light from the lamp falling softly over his screen. He was vaguely aware of Sky nearby, had been for a while, but neither of them had spoken since dinner. Glancing up, he found Sky perched sideways in the arm chair, studiously examining what Prapai thought was a seating chart for the wedding.

Sky didn’t even notice him watching, erasing something and scribbling in another name as he checked it against an RSVP card.

Looking back at his emails, Prapai paused as he let himself sit in the moment. He couldn’t remember any time he’d done this with someone who wasn’t family. Any hookups had never stayed past their welcome, and if they had, it had always been in an attempt at more sex. It wasn’t just to sit around, doing their own things, completely oblivious of the other but perfectly aware of their presence.

The silence itself was surprisingly easy, calm, not filled with tension like Prapai might have expected, waiting for the other shoe to drop. They probably did this a lot, he thought, glancing at Sky, how he paid him no attention at all, didn’t try to distract him from work, from whatever he was doing, didn’t demand his attention the way someone else might.

Sky didn’t even seem to notice him watching, more invested in his chart instead of the thoughts filtering through Prapai’s mind about how surreal and yet comfortable this moment seemed.

It felt like, well, it felt like home, which was a strange thing to think, since they were at home. But the moment was simple and uncomplicated. There was no tension underneath it all, no Prapai glancing at the clock, waiting until an appropriate time to leave or go to bed or put some space in between them.

He also found, as he listened to the hum of appliances, the flick of the page Sky turned, that he didn’t need to interrupt it. The silence. He was perfectly content to answer his emails, to set his tablet aside and gaze out the dark window without needed to break the silence with pointless conversation.

Crossing his legs, he leaned back against the cushions, watching the flashing light of a plane lighting up the darkness, crossing the sky, over the city and disappearing behind a building. The door to the balcony was open, letting a light breeze waft inside, the evening air warm but not humid for once. Prapai hadn’t really noticed all the plants out there before, like their own little jungle. Sky must have taken care of them because if there was one thing Prapai wasn’t, it was a plant dad. Some days he could barely keep himself alive, let alone a plant.

A noise drew his attention from the array of pots and greenery, the sound of Sky tossing his paper on the coffee table and sighing. Glancing over, he watched Sky stretch, drawing his hands over his head, back arching off the arm chair, a satisfied noise when he finished. Sky’s gaze landed on him as he took a deep breath, and there was only a second’s pause before Sky untwined himself, like a languid cat unraveling itself, sliding off the chair and crawling onto the couch with Prapai.

Prapai lifted his hand from his lap as Sky settled with his head there instead, not even bothering to ask as he took Prapai’s hand in his, playing with his fingers idly as he sighed.

Was Prapai supposed to say something? He didn’t think so as he let his free hand come up to Sky’s hair, brushing it from his eyes as if it was a natural thing to do, as if his hands acted on some kind of instinct his brain had forgotten with Sky in his lap.

“You remember that guy at work I was telling you about? P’Tom?”

Sky started as if continuing a conversation Prapai didn’t remember, and he didn’t seem to need Prapai’s answer as he twined his fingers with Prapai’s.

“He finally got caught sneaking off to fuck the assistant in the bathroom,” Sky went on, talking more to Prapai’s hands than anything, and Prapai was content to just listen.

He didn’t know who this Tom was, but apparently a source of gossip at Sky’s office, someone Sky had told him about before. He wondered how many times they had discussed Tom’s antics just like this, with Sky telling him stories and Prapai nodding along, unnecessary to contribute.

“He got reprimanded and now he’s on probation for two weeks.” Sky smirked slightly, as if happy with the outcome. “So at least when he doesn’t do his work, I won’t get blamed.”

“Blamed?” Glancing down, Prapai watched Sky’s shrug, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“I told you he’s the boss’ favorite. He slacks off and then I have to do his work and then mine doesn’t get done, and—” He sighed instead of finishing, glancing up at Prapai with those impossibly soft eyes that made Prapai’s heart go mushy. How could anyone take advantage of Sky? How could Sky let them? He didn’t seem the type to let people walk all over him.

“You shouldn’t do his work for him. Have you talked to the boss? Or HR? You shouldn’t be getting in trouble for someone else’s mistake. I could talk to—”

He jerked, surprised when Sky’s hand came up to his cheek, a gentle smile at his lips.

“P’Pai,” Sky said, giving him a look he took to mean he was getting too worked up, and that caught him off-guard too. He’d felt a sudden surge of protectiveness over the thought of someone taking Sky for granted, using him to get away with something. “We’ve been over this. I already filed a complaint with HR and him getting reprimanded for sleeping with the secretary is strike two. And I don’t want you coming to the office to save me. I can handle it.”

He probably could, Prapai admitted, but he didn’t like the idea of Sky struggling when he was clearly so capable.

Letting out a breath, Prapai wrapped his hand around Sky’s wrist, pulling his fingers to his lips. Brushing his lips across Sky’s knuckles, he didn’t stop to think how easy this felt, as if a gesture he did often.

“You could come work for us,” he said after a second, remembering his mom’s words from the other day. It would be easy to set Sky up as an architect or a plan reviewer, or even as a contractor. Then he’d be safe from manipulative coworkers, and to Prapai’s great surprise, it didn’t even worry him, the idea of having Sky work with him.

He would never have considered fucking someone who worked directly underneath him—they had to be at least a few departments of separation for both legal and personal reasons. But he liked the idea of having Sky close during the day, the possibility of sex on his desk where they were both sure not to be reprimanded.

Sky rolled his eyes at the suggestion, though, as if they’d gone over this a million times before.

“You saved me from my life before, and that was enough,” Sky said simply, patting Prapai’s cheek as he dislodged his hand from Prapai’s. “Besides, I wouldn’t let you be my boss, and I wouldn’t want to cause P’Tan any more stress than she has daily managing you.”

There didn’t seem to be any arguing with Sky’s eyebrow raise, and Prapai could only shrug.

“Fine, don’t come work for me.”

Sky smiled slightly, tilting his chin up, asking for what might have been a kiss.

“We can still fuck in your office,” he said, cheeky as Prapai’s brain went blank at the idea.

“Yeah?” he couldn’t help asking, as if it was a trap somehow. But Sky shook his head, as though amused, pulling Prapai to him by the neck.

“When you deserve it,” he murmured against his lips, kissing him softly.

Bringing a hand to Sky’s jaw, Prapai kissed him back, bent over his lap. It was slightly uncomfortable but not enough to stop, tilting his head and kissing Sky deeper.

It didn’t go on long enough to spark arousal, and he blinked when Sky nudged him away, snuggling into him, bringing his arm up to brace his head on Prapai’s thigh, warm palm on his knee.

The silence fell again, just the same as before, comfortable and calm. Prapai had never felt this before, the warmth bubbling up in his chest as he gazed down at Sky, his dark, soft hair, the way he seemed perfectly happy to just sit there, doing nothing. There was something sweetly intimate in the way Sky fit in his lap, nuzzled his cheek against his arm and sighed contently.

It was nice, he thought, carding his fingers through Sky’s hair, brushing over the faint lines of his forehead that probably came with frowning too much. It was nice and easy and surprisingly relaxing as he let his head fall back against the cushion.

He didn’t suggest turning on the television or think about picking his tablet back up and checking his emails again. Instead, he just closed his eyes and focused on soft slide of his fingers through Sky’s hair instead.

*

Prapai wasn’t listening to whatever the head of finance was saying, pointing at his various charts and referencing spreadsheets set in front of everyone in the board room. He stared unseeingly, instead, at the columns filled with numbers, blurring together as he smiled to himself.

The droning voice faded away as he sat there, replaced with Sky’s bleary morning face, squished nose and grimace when Prapai rolled into him. Sky had shoved him away, complained about his weight, but Prapai had just watched Sky accept it, snuggle into his arms as though he belonged there.

He could have stayed like that all morning, wrapped up in Sky, letting himself breathe him in. He didn’t know why he’d wanted it so badly, why it had taken Sky literally shoving him out of the bed to get up, but it had. He’d never wanted to stay in bed like that, just to lay there, just to see how many kisses he could get away with before Sky wiggled out of his grip. The answer was about ten, at least to his shoulder and neck. Once he’d reached Sky’s mouth, the kisses had devolved into something less countable and more fluid with Sky’s tongue in his mouth and butterflies in his stomach.

“You have to go to work,” Sky had said, in between slow, unhurried kisses that left Prapai all tingly and satisfied.

“Or we could just stay here,” Prapai had responded, rolling on top and slotting his leg in between Sky’s.

“P’Tan will kill you,” Sky had said, but he hadn’t sounded as if he cared much when his hands twined in Prapai’s hair and pulled his mouth back.

Prapai wasn’t sure how he’d ended up at the office anyway. They hadn’t even gotten to the sex, and a part of Prapai hadn’t even cared. He would have been happy to spend the whole morning just kissing, just lying there, just tracing the curves of Sky’s face until he had them memorized.

The sudden thought shook him and he straightened up at the table, glancing around in case someone could have heard that. Everyone else in the meeting looked far more attentive to the subject matter than he did, though he suspected at least half of them were glazed over just the same as they stared at their papers.

He just wanted the meeting to be over so he could go back to his office and text Sky.

The thought didn’t even scare him, which was unusual in itself, but Prapai didn’t really care. Maybe Payu was right. Maybe everyone was right and it was possible for him to love someone. To love Sky.

Prapai was actually grateful when his phone went off, an excuse to pull it from his pocket and excuse himself from the meeting and the droning about financials.

It wasn’t Sky calling, though, and he was the slightest bit disappointed as his brother’s name popped up on the screen. He pressed the answer button, though, and ducked down the hall away from the board room.

“What’s happening, Plerng?” he greeted him, heading back to his office.

“Just wanted to ask if putting dicks on flasks is too much for a bachelor party favor?”

Prapai blinked, hand on the doorknob, not even sure where to start. “What?”

“Nah, you’re right,” Plerng said dismissively, as if Prapai had said anything. “Besides, we don’t have enough time before the party to order them.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Prapai asked, slightly concerned when Plerng made a noise.

“The best bachelor party ever!” he said simply. “Don’t worry about anything, big bro. It’s gonna be epic, talked about for years. All you have to do is show up tomorrow and enjoy it!”

It wasn’t reassuring, but Prapai couldn’t really argue as Plerng went on. He seemed to recall Plerng saying he’d asked for something low-key, and he definitely remembered Sky asking him to be careful, whatever that meant. What Plerng was talking about sounded neither low-key nor careful.

“So, I’ll see you at the club at nine, and don’t forget to wear a red shirt!”

Shaking his head, Prapai didn’t bother asking why, stepping into his office. “Didn’t I say bar, not a club?”

Plerng ignored him completely this time. “Nine sharp!”

The line went silent as Plerng hung up, and Prapai could only frown at it instead. What was Plerng planning, and had he agreed to any of it? In another universe, one where Sky didn’t exist and he wasn’t considering how he might react, a party like this would have sounded fun, the perfect place to pick someone up. He’d been to so many parties like this before, unattached, on the hunt. But it wouldn’t be like this this time.

Any other time, he would have been excited for this, but now, as he sat down in his chair, he couldn’t help the tiny piece of his mind that thought he’d rather just stay home with Sky.

It hit him with a smack, out of the blue, but it didn’t scare him somehow, and he could only puzzle over it as he leaned back in his chair, set his feet on the desk, and gazed out the window at the city below.

*

Prapai didn’t have as many red shirts as he remembered in his closet, and he stood there staring for too long, only half-dressed. He could hear Sky out in the living room, music playing from a speaker. He was talking, to himself maybe or to the plants on the balcony. He’d caught Sky doing it the other day, telling the palm how beautiful it was, calling the little yellow-flowered ones his babies and cooing over the new leaf sprouting in the pot.

Sky hadn’t been embarrassed when he got caught, as if talking to plants was a totally normal thing to do. Maybe they needed to get a pet, Prapai had caught himself thinking. But thinking about that meant thinking about the future, and he wasn’t ready for that. He had smiled stupidly when Sky had tossed a look his way at his teasing, though, as though thoroughly unamused.

Half his closet was filled with blue shirts, Prapai realized as he stood there. Had he always had this many blue shirts? Or did they remind of the sky which in turn reminded him of Sky? He didn’t have time to analyze that thought, and he grabbed the first red shirt he saw, pulling it over his shoulders and smoothing down the wrinkles. Clearly, he didn’t wear this a lot.

“Did he say why it had to be red?” Sky asked, coming in behind him, stepping in front of Prapai to help him button the shirt even though he was fully capable of doing it himself.

Prapai let him, though, watching Sky’s nimble fingers close up the buttons, wishing it was the other way around.

“Who knows,” he said instead, shaking his head. Whatever Plerng had in store for the evening, he was probably better off not knowing. He caught Sky’s hands before they could fall back to his side. “Aren’t you doing anything for a bachelor party?” Sky hadn’t mentioned it at all, and Prapai supposed he’d been too busy worrying about the wedding and marriage and figuring out how he felt about all this to bother asking.

Sky shrugged. “Rain wanted to go to some beach town and stay up all night doing weird bonding rituals with Sig and Por to ‘cement our friendship.’” He rolled his eyes like it was a stupid idea. “But I managed to talk him out of that. So we’re probably just going to go to a restaurant and drink a little too much, and I’ll have to hear way more than I need to about Rain and P’Payu’s sex life.”

He said it as though it was a normal thing, so Prapai laughed. “You deserve to have fun too. You could still go to the beach and drink there.”

Sky shook his head, leaning into Prapai’s forehead, and Prapai’s stomach jumped unexpectedly. “I don’t need to go to the beach to have fun. I know you’ve been looking forward to this, so I won’t ask you to stay, but this is all I need to be happy.”

Prapai closed his eyes as their foreheads pressed together, a swoon in his heart, and the words fell from his mouth before he even thought it through. “I could.”

He heard Sky’s breath, half a laugh, felt the gentle fingers stroking down his cheeks. He would, he thought suddenly. He would stay there if Sky asked, and he would be happy to do it.

“You’re going to the party,” Sky said, almost firmly, but his kiss was soft, aching, and it was all Prapai could do not to chase after his mouth as he moved back. “Not that Plerng would notice if you weren’t there, but he has put a lot of effort into it. And it’s the only bachelor party you’re ever gonna get, so you should enjoy it.”

Opening his eyes slowly, Prapai didn’t know what to say. A part of him wanted to stay right there—screw Plerng and this party and the end of bachelorhood.

Before he let the thought slip from his mouth, Sky had pulled his hands away, patting Prapai’s shoulder.

“I’ll be here when you get home,” he said simply. “Unless Rain has cursed us into another dimension or I’ve died from hearing so many Daddy P’Payu stories.”

Prapai was intrigued, but he didn’t ask, and he furrowed his eyebrows instead, fixing his collar. He could have fun at this party, he told himself, even as he caught himself watching Sky in the mirror as he moved back into the bedroom and smoothed the sheets on his way out. He would have fun at this party, and he wouldn’t spend the whole time thinking about Sky. Surely he could manage one evening or else, what did that mean?

Shaking himself, he tugged down the hem of his shirt and undid an extra button at his chest. It didn’t mean anything. Nothing at all.

*

It was a sea of red shirts, at least in their cordoned-off special VIP section of the club, which honestly took up the entire back room. All of Prapai’s friends were there and a bunch of people he suspected Plerng had invited so he could hit on them as he recognized a few past, very casual, hookups. He wasn’t particularly worried about any of them, accepting the drinks people shoved in his hands, raised in toasts, a constant stream of congratulations and lamenting that he’d be off the market for good.

“Not that you haven’t been for years,” one of his friends said, hanging onto his shoulder, a drink in one hand, a custom-printed tee-shirt that said, “Prapai’s Bachelor Blowout” on it in the other. There was a table-full by the door, along with custom hightop glasses, plastic molds that froze ice with the letters P & S into them (which also floated in every drink Prapai saw), and even gold bracelets that had been clasped onto everyone’s wrists as they walked in.

Plerng really had gone all out, with a private DJ, the room decorated exorbitantly with gold and red everywhere, the alcohol free-flowing in everyone’s glasses.

“Nice party.”

Prapai turned, his friend still hanging on his shoulder, stumbling into him and finally letting go as he caught sight of someone else.

Payu stood behind him, wearing a shirt that could only be described as maroon instead of red.

“Haven’t you heard?” Prapai asked, raising his glass. “This is my last night of freedom.”

Enough people had said it to him already, a constant reminder that he was getting married. And maybe he’d had a few drinks already, enough that the idea of marriage was becoming less scary. Or maybe just the idea of marriage to Sky was less scary. He wasn’t really sure.

“You say that as if you haven’t been waiting years for this,” Payu replied, bringing his drink to his lips and pausing. “So you’re feeling good about it?”

Prapai paused. “I’m feeling… like I have not had enough to drink yet.”

He glanced away from Payu, searching for one of the waiters he’d seen circling the room earlier with a tray full of designer-drinks.

“And Sky, how are you feeling about him?”

Prapai didn’t really want to talk about Sky, mostly because he couldn’t stop thinking about Sky. He was supposed to be enjoying this party that his brother had put so much work into, clearly spent a lot of money on favors and drinks and DJs. He was enjoying it, it was just that his mind kept wandering to Sky, wondering what he was doing, if he was out with his friends, having a great time.

“You know what I heard?” he asked instead of answering Payu, gesturing at the waiter passing by and snagging another drink from the tray. “I heard someone calls you Daddy.”

Payu’s eyes narrowed, and Prapai knew he’d hit the right chord. This would make Payu stop asking about Sky.

“Like you wouldn’t love it if Sky would call you that.”

For a second, Prapai could only stare off into space as the image filled his head—Sky underneath him on the bed, Prapai’s cock buried deep inside, a glint in his eye as Prapai fucked him, Sky’s heels digging into his back, the words, “Ohh, daddy, fuck me,” panted, teased, into the silence. It was enough to spark arousal even as he stood there, jerking himself back to reality and Payu’s knowing look.

“Just didn’t know you were so kinky,” he said to Payu instead, taking a sip of his drink. “And who is this Rain guy Sky keeps mentioning?”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Payu said, as if Prapai should know. But he didn’t know and Payu knew that. “And Sky’s friend. He’s indirectly how you two met.”

“And I can trust him with Sky?” he asked curiously. Sky had said they were going out, drinking, having fun. He didn’t care about any of that, but he did wonder who he was going out with.

“Worried about Sky?” Payu asked, almost suspicious, and the way he asked made Prapai want to scoff.

“No.” He was sure Sky could take care of himself—he seemed very capable of telling people off and holding his own. He’d held up fine with Prapai’s family, and they were as pushy as anyone he’d ever met. Although there was something there, a softness that made him want Sky to be okay, to be safe, that made him realize he hadn’t asked much about where Sky was going, what he was doing, and if maybe he should have. “But he is my fiancé. Shouldn’t I know the people he hangs out with?”

Payu smiled, surprising him. “You do,” he said after a second. “You just don’t remember.” He paused, and Prapai frowned. Was it wrong to be a little worried about Sky? Not worried he’d do something stupid or get in trouble, but just concerned that he was okay? “Rain is Sky’s best friend and he wouldn’t let anything happen. And Sig and Por are dumbasses but they love Sky too.”

Everyone seemed to love Sky. Prapai knew that, and he had to believe Payu again, that he was telling the truth. That there was nothing to be worried about.

Downing the rest of his drink, Prapai just shrugged. “We need to get you a drink,” he said, grabbing Payu by the shoulder. “And I need to forget this is my bachelor party and the end of my life as a single man.”

He could tell Payu was going to say something, probably something serious about Sky and their past and that he was supposed to want this, but Prapai didn’t let him, shoving him into the crowd instead and letting the music engulf them both.

*

Prapai probably shouldn’t have had any more drinks, had had more than he normally would, but it was a party, his bachelor party, as everyone kept reminding him as they shoved drinks into his hand.

He had escaped the clamor of the VIP section, of Plerng making out with too many of his friends—the yelling and the laughing and the drinks spilling everywhere as they toasted to Prapai, to Sky, to the end of an era.

Laughing, he tripped through the crowd, looking for the bar even though there were perfectly good, already-paid-for drinks in the back. But Prapai needed a moment, a breath, an escape as he stumbled into the bar top and flashes a grin at the bartender.

“Get me something cheap and disgusting!” he called, amused at himself. It would all taste the same considering how many he’d already had.

“Celebrating?”

Prapai looked over at the man who had spoken, perched at the bar in his tank top with cutouts and impossibly tight jeans. Just Prapai’s type in another world. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the group at the back, the security guard by the velvet rope, ready to keep anyone unworthy out.

“Yup,” he agreed, taking the drink the bartender slid over. “Very important bachelor party.” He tipped his glass at the guy, who smirked in return and let his gaze drop down Prapai.

“Poor bastard,” the guy said, and Prapai looked up, frowning only slightly. “Why would anyone want to shackle themselves?”

For a moment, Prapai struggled, knowing he wanted to argue but not sure how. It wasn’t a shackle, a chain binding him to one person forever. It was an agreement. An agreement to love one another and be there for each other and a promise to never give up. That was what it was.

He couldn’t seem to find the words to explain the thoughts sloshing around in his brain as he took a drink. He glanced up, though, as the guy’s hand landed on his chest, sliding in between the open buttons.

“Why would anyone want to give up the freedom that we have?” the guy asked, and Prapai could only stare at his hand. “The freedom to dance, to drink, the freedom to fuck.”

Blinking, Prapai stood frozen for a second, as though his mind was trying to catch up to what was happening. A guy, a stranger, had his hand on his chest, stroking over his peck in a clear invitation that, normally, he wouldn’t have even blinked at it. He would have taken the opportunity, taken the guy’s hand and led him into the bathroom for whatever came next.

But he wasn’t thinking of what came next this time. He wasn’t interested in what came next.

All he could think about was Sky. Sky with his soft, sad eyes, telling him to be careful, telling him he’d be there when he came home. Sky curling into him in the middle of the night, cuddling into his back and holding on. Sky rolling his eyes when Prapai said something stupid and how it made him smile instead of being annoyed.

Taking the guy’s hand away, he moved back a step, leaving his half-full drink on the counter.

“I only fuck one person,” he heard himself say, slurred, like it was someone else speaking the words. But he agreed, and it felt important to say it, to tell this guy with his too-shiny hair and silver earring that Sky was the only person that he wanted to spend all his time with. “And it’s not you.”

It was ruder than he normally would have been, without five drinks in his stomach, not as polite a brush-off as he was used to giving people he wasn’t interested in. The guy frowned at his answer, as though insulted, but Prapai didn’t care. He didn’t care that he could have been nicer. Not tonight.

There was just one thing he wanted to do tonight, and it wasn’t get hit on by some sleezy guy at the bar or drink his weight in whiskey while his little brother tried to get them all to play bachelor party games that would get them half-naked. There was just one thing and he was going to do it.

*

“Oof!” Prapai stumbled into the table as he got through the door, knocking what sounded like a set of keys to the floor.

The condo was dark, and he didn’t think to turn on any lights as he slipped his shoes off and dropped his jacket in the vague direction of a hook.

His head had a pleasant buzz as he made his way through the living room, smiling at Sky’s sweatshirt hanging off the back of the arm chair. Pausing for a moment, he brought it to his face, breathing in deeply and shuddering as it washed over him. His head wasn’t clearer and he felt almost high as he left the shirt on the chair and headed for the bedroom door.

It was dark inside, light up only by the various LED lights from appliances, the old alarm clock in the corner casting a red glow over the mattress and the outline of Sky’s body, half-covered by the duvet, a leg sticking out.

He may have flopped a little too heavily onto the mattress, and it bounced, but Sky didn’t stir. Careful, he moved slower, inching over Sky to gaze down at him.

Sky looked so peaceful, he thought, itching to run his fingers over his cheeks. But that might wake him up, and he didn’t want to disturb him. Instead, he blinked slowly as the alcohol flooded his brain, made his heart throb stupidly when Sky shifted, made a tiny noise in his sleep.

Prapai couldn’t remember how he’d gotten home, if he’d taken a cab or if someone had driven him. He just remembered the driving urge to get out of the club, how Plerng had pressed a souvenir glass into his hand, pulled a tee-shirt on over his own. It was still on—crooked and wrinkled, but he didn’t care as he scooted in next to Sky and let out a long breath.

How could someone be so beautiful, he thought, tucking his head next to Sky’s on the pillow. How could someone like Sky—someone so smart and sarcastic and sweet—how could he be the one who had captured Prapai’s heart? It couldn’t have been hard. One smile had him melting like an ice cream cone in the middle of summer.

“Sky, baby,” he whispered, not loud enough to wake him up, just wanting to hear Sky’s name on his tongue. He was comfortably warm, comfortably drunk as he snuggled in closer, not wanting to close his eyes because if he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to see Sky anymore.

He watched Sky breath, slow and steady, his mouth parted slightly on the pillow, twitching slightly, eyelashes fluttering.

Leaning in, Prapai pressed his lips to Sky’s cheek, lingering against the soft skin for just a second as he let the warmth wash over him, flooding his whole body just from that barest touch.

“I love you,” he breathed, like it was a secret, like Sky couldn’t know. His heart clenched as he said it, something so new, but it was true.

Sliding back, Prapai sunk into the mattress, closing his eyes as the alcohol overtook him. He wasn’t sure he’d remember this tomorrow, but tonight, he did.

*

Prapai stared up at Sky, hands on his hips, careful, tentative as he took in his bare chest, the soft warm glow from the cheap lamp falling over the twin bed, the thin sheets. And Prapai could only stare, heart beating fast as he stuttered out that he didn’t want just sex, that he hadn’t come over just for that.

“I’m giving in,” Sky only said, leaning in and taking Prapai’s mouth in a kiss he’d been waiting an eternity for.

Flowing warmth, impossibly soft, his chest fluttering in a way it never had before. It overwhelmed him, heart swelling as Sky melted into him. It was everything he wanted, everything he hadn’t known he’d needed.

Groaning, he pushed up into Sky, hands reaching for every inch he could touch, desperate to get his hands, his mouth on him, to convince Sky that he was serious about this.

“P’Pai,” Sky sighed, head tilted back, lips moving to his ear next.

Prapai closed his eyes, sliding his hands around Sky’s waist and leaning into the curve of his neck, tasting his skin, shivering at Sky’s noise in his ear.

“P’Pai.” It was louder this time, accompanied by a gentle nudge to his shoulder, and Prapai felt the mattress falling out from underneath him, and his eyes sprung open as he felt Sky’s hand on his chest.

Blinking, he winced at the light streaming through the curtains, the headache already formed behind his temples, Sky’s soft, annoyed noise, shivering away from Prapai’s nose pressed to his neck.

As Prapai attempted to clear his head, to wake up, he could already feel the dream slipping away, the details of it trickling through his fingers. It had felt so real, he thought, rubbing his face and rolling into his back. Fuck, his head throbbed with the hangover and he tried to swallow through the dryness in his mouth.

The room, the lighting, the books on the shelf. It all seemed so very familiar.

Shaking himself, Prapai could only focus on the way the headache pulsed behind his temples. Curling into his side, away from the bright window, his eyes fell on Sky beside him. He had stopped twitching from the hair tickling his neck, eyes still closed even though Prapai suspected he was awake.

”When are you going to get bored of me?” Words floated across his brain as he watched Sky, a voice that sounded like Sky’s. Something deep in his chest tightened, an echo of a different time, the first time he’d heard those words.

But Sky had never said that, he thought, reaching over to brush his fingers down Sky’s neck. Sky wouldn’t say something like that, something so heartbreaking.

Sky twitched again under his touch, eyes fluttering open, nose wrinkled at being woken up.

“Mmmm,” Sky just hummed, almost in protest, but he stretched anyway, careful and languid, somehow ending up closer to Prapai than before, a deep sigh washing over Prapai’s neck.

He was still wearing two shirts, he realized, glancing down. The button up and the teeshirt Plerng had forced over his head, wrinkled and too tight, riding up over his stomach, the sleeve bunched under his armpit, neckline crooked. No wonder he was so warm.

“You got home late,” Sky said, “how much trouble did you get into?”

“No trouble,” Prapai said, though he wasn’t entirely sure how true that was. He was pretty sure he remembered the whole night—the drinks and the games and Plerng declaring it the best bachelor party ever. The guy at the bar trying to hit on him and Prapai unusually forceful in his rejection. He remembered coming home, crawling into bed, marveling at how perfect Sky was.

He still looked perfect, even more so in the morning light with his mussed hair and sleepy eyes, only partially suspicious about Prapai’s answer.

“Better not have,” Sky said seriously. “It’s the home stretch and there’s still a million things to do.”

Right, the wedding. He was getting married. For a second, he’d almost forgotten, too caught up in his feelings last night, the overwhelming surge of love he’d felt when he’d gazed down at Sky. But love was one thing. Marriage was something else entirely.

He didn’t want to think about it right now, though, pulling Sky into his arms and letting the warmth wash over him. Lying there, he sighed, tucking his chin over Sky’s head. He wished he remembered, he thought suddenly, unexpectedly. He wished he remembered everything that had come before—the first time he’d seen Sky, if he’d known right then or if it took a bit longer. Had he known right away that he could fall in love with this boy? That someday he’d want to be married to him?

“What is this shirt?” Sky asked after a minute, smoothing his hand over the fabric.

“Plerng had them made,” he said vaguely. He wondered if he had okay’d that idea.

“And was it a bachelor blowout?” Sky asked, mocking, tracing the words on the shirt.

“It was something,” Prapai admitted, pressing a kiss to Sky’s head, and Sky glanced up. “It would have been better with you there.”

He wasn’t surprised to find he meant it, smiled when Sky scoffed.

“You must be forgetting the last party we went to,” he said, and Prapai frowned slightly. Sky paused, watching him. “The holiday party at your office? You had two shots and you dragged me into the conference room. If P’Tan hadn’t come looking, you probably would have had me on every surface in there.”

“Huh,” Prapai could only say. It sounded like a great idea, something he’d love to remember or do again if he couldn’t.

He felt Sky shift, head nuzzling into his shoulder, and he couldn’t help smiling at the gesture.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he said after a second. “I’m never going out with Rain again. He spilled his drink the second he got it and then complained the whole time that P’Payu was at your party.”

“Should have gone to the beach,” Prapai said, and Sky groaned.

“Yeah, so I could drown him in the ocean.”

Prapai paused, pressing his nose into Sky’s hair and breathing in deeply. Sky didn’t wiggle out of his grip, seemingly content to be squeezed. They’d gone to the beach before—he knew it because there was a photo on his desk at work of him and Sky at the beach. Had they gone on vacation? Had they spent a relaxing weekend swimming in the sea and drinking colorful cocktails under huge umbrellas? Had he gotten to admire the length of Sky’s body underneath tiny swim trunks, gleaming in the sun?

A bathtub, filled to the brim with bubbles, rose petals scattered on the shiny tile, two glasses of wine, untouched, on the rim. Soft, soapy hands sliding up his bare torso, a seductive whisper in his ear telling him to endure. An open door, salty sea air wafting inside as Sky slid down on top of him, smirked against his skin.

The image lingered as Prapai blinked, the bedroom coming back into focus as quickly as the image had appeared.

“Are you listening?” Sky asked, and Prapai shook himself sharply.

“What?”

Sky sighed. “You were a little out of it last week, but there’s a lot to get done this week.”

“I was not out of it,” Prapai argued without even thinking.

Sky moved back, unimpressed as he tilted his head to the side. “I had to remind you of practically everything and you didn’t bother me about what I wanted for dinner once.”

He hadn’t known he was supposed to. Shit. So Sky had noticed. He couldn’t let him know the truth—Payu had explicitly told him not to tell.

“Then I’ll bug you now,” he said instead, pulling Sky back to his chest as struggled in his grip, peppering kisses over his cheeks and down his shoulder as Sky tried not to laugh. “What do you want for dinner?”

“It’s seven in the morning!” Sky protested, squirming, biting back his smile, shoving Prapai away. At least he was distracted and Prapai didn’t have to explain his strange behavior. Sky paused, though, eyes narrowed at Prapai as he scooted away on the bed. “Ask me in an hour.”

Relieved, Prapai was just glad Sky didn’t push it. He didn’t want Sky to worry, he found, as he gazed fondly at him instead. He might not have remembered how they’d gotten there, but he was starting to figure out why, and he was okay with that.

*

Scrolling through his phone, Prapai swiped through the photos filling his memory card. Most of them were of Sky. Sky at places he didn’t remember, out to dinner, at parties, falling asleep in the arm chair with a manga book dangling from his hand.

He didn’t remember any of it, and it made him sad more than anything as he kept swiping. Why couldn’t he remember this beautiful boy who made his heart tremble, who made him want to say stupid things just to make him smile, who made the thought of marriage not as scary as it had been a week ago.

The door to his office was open, conversations floating past, but he heard none of it. Instead, he frowned at the picture on his screen—clearly taken at an engagement party, their engagement party. The smile on Sky’s face made him melt, a puddle in his chair, a throb of his heart at how happy he seemed. How happy they both seemed.

Why couldn’t he remember?

A short knock on the door frame proceeded Namtan as she bustled inside, setting a bunch of new papers on his desk and pulling out her tablet.

“No slacking off this morning,” she said simply. “You have meetings and emails to answer and Sky sent me a whole list of wedding things you need to do.” Prapai looked up from his phone as she swiped on her tablet and ignored his confounded look. “You still need to pick up your tux and your brother’s. Then you need to confirm the time with the caterers and schedule a time the day of to pick up the boutonnieres—Sky says to be sure that they are pink and not red, and that the bouquets are white roses, and to check before you sign for them. Oh, and he also put ‘gift for P’Namtan—you know what I mean’ on here.” She raised her eyebrows as she closed her tablet and Prapai’s mouth hung open a bit.

That sounded like a lot of things to get done, he thought, feeling the pressure welling up in his chest. He was supposed to be getting married, in less than a week. Oh god.

“Do you think you could—” he started to say as the grimace started on his face.

“I’ve already got the tuxes—they’re hanging in your car,” she said simply, and he let out a breath, relieved. Of course Namtan would be on top of this. “And the caterer has been called. You just need to show up on Saturday at nine to pick up the flowers.”

“What would I do without you?” Prapai said, a thousand percent serious, and she barely reacted.

“I am your best man,” she said, the tiniest of smiles on her face. “And I want this wedding to be just as perfect as you do.”

“Because of Sky,” Prapai said slowly. People really did love him and he understood now, just wished he could remember everything in between.

Namtan glanced at him, curious. “Because you both deserve this,” she said, turning to him fully and tucking the tablet under her arm. “I’ve watched you change, these last couple years. You’re more caring, more serious, but you’re still the same old happy-go-lucky boss I’ve always had. You changed for Sky. You changed because of Sky, and he’s different too, because of you. You’re better together and you will continue to be after this. I know it.”

Prapai couldn’t help the sappy smile that spread over his face at her words, his heart dissolving into a warm little puddle of goo in his chest.

“Namtan, I didn’t know you cared so much.”

Clearing her throat, she straightened up and tossed her hair back. “I’m just trying to motivate you to get some work done.”

“Are you going to put that in your best man speech?” he teased, but in all actuality, he was touched. It had never occurred to him that Namtan cared about him beyond getting him to go to meetings and sign documents, that she was invested in his happiness. He supposed he’d underestimated their relationship before, and a part of him wondered if Sky had been responsible for that change as well.

“You’ll be lucky to get a speech out of me,” she said pointedly, and Prapai grinned anyway. She was just a big softy. “Especially if you don’t get going on that ‘gift for P’Namtan’ part of the list.”

“Wait,” he said as Namtan turned to leave, a thought occurring to him. “What about my gift for Sky?” Surely, he had to have gotten Sky something for the wedding, but he hadn’t seen anything unusual lying around the condo. Not that he would leave a surprise gift lying around… That was a stupid thought. But there had to be something. There was no way he wouldn’t have gotten Sky a gift. He wanted to get Sky a million gifts.

Namtan frowned slightly, glancing back at him. “You already bought that little beach house, and you know he’s going to say it’s too much. What more do you need to get him?”

A beach house. It was perfect, Prapai thought as he reached for the framed photograph. He wondered if it had a very large tub.

“Nothing, I guess,” he admitted, smiling to himself, and Namtan shook her head.

“Don’t forget you have actual work to do today too,” she reminded him before she left.

Leaning back, Prapai gazed at the photo—him and Sky on the beach. Him and Sky on the beach in their very own condo that opened up to the ocean, somewhere they could escape the bustle of the city and be truly alone. The thought just made him smile, but it faded as he lowered the photograph. What if he never remembered everything? Would there always be parts of Sky he didn’t know because he couldn’t ask?

Maybe it would be enough to know what he did, to love Sky this way, but he couldn’t help wanting to know it all, unable to shake the feeling that he already did.

*

“Would you stop looking at me like that?”

Sky shot Prapai a look over what seemed like a thousand tiny succulent plants scattered all over the counter. Sky had been busy the last half an hour tying little individual ribbons around each one. He had stopped Prapai from helping after the very first crooked bow.

“Like what?” Prapai asked, innocent. He hadn’t been doing anything except admiring the way Sky’s fingers worked, tying perfect bow after bow. He’d just been admiring how soft his lips looked in the fading afternoon sun, how warm his skin would be if he tried to touch, how adorable he looked in his wrinkled tee-shirt.

“You know like what,” Sky only replied with a pointed stare, and it wasn’t Prapai’s fault if Sky was ethereally beautiful in the sunlight, so beautiful that it distracted him from doing anything else. “I have to get these done and then I need to make sure all the signage is right for the ceremony.”

Prapai was sure the signs were perfect. Everything else seemed to be.

It was less and less scary, the idea of marrying Sky, even as his eyes grazed over the hundred tiny pots waiting to be given away to guests. He would never have thought he’d be okay with it, but somehow, Sky made it okay.

He wished he knew how Sky made it okay. There were so many questions he couldn’t ask, so many things he wanted to know. Just looking at Sky, he wished he knew what had caused that scar on his arm, why Sky was so quick with a response no matter what was said, why he sometimes tried to hide his smiles for Prapai.

Those were things he might never know, he thought, feeling his stomach sinking along with it.

It wasn’t fair, that he didn’t remember. It wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to experience his whole relationship with Sky. And it wasn’t fair to Sky either.

Oblivious to what Prapai was thinking, Sky chewed on his lip as he concentrated on the bows, as if each one had to be perfect. Sky wanted everything to be perfect for this wedding—from the seating chart to the caterers to forbidding Plerng to give a speech, and he deserved that. He also deserved a fiancé who could remember the first time they’d met and the moment he’d decided he wanted to be with him forever.

Sinking down on the counter, Prapai looked away from the succulents. What would Sky do if he knew? Would he be upset? Would he want to call off the whole thing? Prapai had been more than willing to a week ago, but now the thought of not being with Sky was a burden he didn’t want to bear. But he couldn’t let Sky go through with this without knowing.

“Everything okay?”

Prapai looked up at Sky’s voice, the question in his eyebrow.

“Yes,” he said quickly, shaking his head. Sky got to remember everything, and it wasn’t fair of Prapai to let him go into this marriage without the truth.

He wanted to know everything there was to know about Sky—to experience the highs and lows of his first real relationship and not just jump in with both feet because he was too afraid to say something. If he was going to marry Sky, he wanted to marry all of him.

“I was just thinking,” he said after a second as Sky eyed him suspiciously. “We should go to dinner.”

“Now?” Sky glanced at the plants again, and Prapai shook his head.

“Tomorrow. Somewhere nice.”

Sky hesitated, as though he didn’t trust why Prapai wanted to go, but he nodded finally. “Okay. But whatever this is, it better not be some elaborate gift you’re going to spring on me.”

“No,” Prapai said quickly. Definitely not a gift. Definitely something far worse.

He felt anything but reassured as Sky shrugged in agreement and returned to his plants. But Sky deserved to know the truth and they both deserved to go into this with open eyes. There was only one way Prapai could get what he wanted—truly knowing Sky—and that was to tell him everything and hope their relationship was strong enough to carry them through it.

*

Prapai had never been nervous before. Not like this.

He wondered, as he sat across from Sky in the semi-upscale restaurant (Sky had somehow talked him into something far less expensive and fancy than he’d pictured—a nice, homey place that was big enough to give them space but not so big it swallowed them whole), he wondered if he’d been nervous to ask Sky to marry him. Somehow, he doubted it as he watched Sky reading the menu.

They’d already ordered, and Prapai cast around for something to say, something that wasn’t blurting out the truth quite yet. He wanted to remember this moment right here too—the way Sky smiled when he caught him looking, fond over the place settings. He wanted to remember the noises of the restaurant, the soft ambient music, clinking of silverwear, the low hum of conversation.

“I had to talk Rain out of buying a hot-pink tie today,” Sky said, and Prapai looked up, glad for the distraction. It was going to be hard enough to tell Sky, but to then explain that he did still love him would be strange.

“Hot-pink?” he repeated, and Sky nodded, grabbing his water glass and taking a sip.

“He thinks because P’Phan and P’Tan are wearing pink, he should too.”

“But aren’t their dresses… not hot-pink?” He didn’t know what it was called, but he’d seen the pictures of Namtan’s dress and neon or hot was not anything he would have called it.

“They’re rose pink,” Sky supplied, “and we already got all the ties in the same color for the groomsmen. But Rain thinks because he’s my best man, he should get something special because P’Tan gets to wear a dress.”

“I don’t think she would have chosen to wear a suit if I’d offered,” Prapai said, and Sky nodded.

“Exactly.”

“So then what did you tell him?”

Sky sighed, rolling his eyes and setting his glass back down. “I told him he could paint the bottom of his shoes pink if he really wanted to.”

Prapai smiled slightly. He didn’t know much about Rain, but what he did know told him Rain was easily appeased. “And that worked?”

“He insisted on doing it to both P’Plerng and P’Payu’s shoes, which defeats the entire purpose of being special, but yes, it worked.”

“Aren’t you a big softie,” Prapai teased Sky as the waiter returned to their table with a variety of dishes. Sky made a face, as though he didn’t agree.

“There’s going to be a photo at the wedding of Rain’s shoes and nothing else.”

Prapai wasn’t sure there were going to be any photos from the wedding, actually, and his good mood deflated slightly as he remembered why they were there.

Maybe he should just rip the bandaid off and accept the consequences, even if it meant Sky freaking out like Payu had warned, even if it meant they took a step backwards. He’d take the step backwards as long as he got to know Sky again.

For a moment, he poked at the food he spooned onto his plate. He didn’t really know where to start, how to say it, if this wasn’t a horrible idea. They were supposed to be married on Saturday and he was about to tell Sky that he had no memories of him before last week.

“Not hungry?” Sky asked, and Prapai looked up, distracted from his thoughts.

He shook his head. “It’s just, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Sky paused, glancing down him as though he might be hiding an engagement ring. “Please don’t tell me you did something stupid like buying me a tiger because I said I liked cats.”

Even Prapai didn’t think he’d be that stupid. “No. It’s about the wedding.”

“Oh no.”

Sighing, Prapai rubbed the back of his neck and wished this was easier. He wished he didn’t have to do it at all. But he didn’t want this relationship to be built on a lie, even if it was just a lie that he remembered everything.

“It’s just that—” He stopped as he glanced up, caught sight of Sky’s face.

Sky wasn’t looking at him, frozen across the table, his eyes wide and fixed with fear, like an animal caged at the zoo.

“Sky?” Prapai leaned in, but Sky didn’t react, and Prapai could see how he breathed, shallow and fast. Twisting around, he tried to find what Sky was looking at, scanning the faces of the people in the restaurant.

He didn’t recognize anyone, didn’t see anyone looking back, and he turned to Sky, a sharp pang in his chest when he saw it—the look in Sky’s eye. Terror, swirling and drowning, pulling him inside himself. He’d seen it before.

An image of a bed, his bed, flashed in his mind, Sky naked and vulnerable, curled in on himself like a wounded animal, a blank-eyed stare like he couldn’t really see Prapai in front of him, calling out to him, begging him to come back.

“Sky, baby,” he said, moving to Sky’s side, cradling his face to tear his gaze away from whatever, whoever it was.

Gun, his brain supplied. Gun had done this to Sky, left him a shell, tried to take him away from Prapai, from the world.

Heart pounding, he pressed his hand to Sky’s chest to feel his own. Now was not the time as the memories came flooding back, flashing through his mind like a movie—snippets of things that had happened, moments he couldn’t believe he’d forgotten.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” he assured Sky, pressing against his forehead, listening to his sharp breathing. “Just feel my heartbeat,” he said, pulling Sky’s hand to his chest. “And breath with me.”

Gun was gone, he told himself firmly. P’Pakin had taken care of him a long time ago.

Inhaling and exhaling slowly, he focused on Sky, the way he tried to follow along, closed his eyes and breathed.

How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten how much he loved Sky? He wouldn’t again, holding onto every memory that swam through his consciousness—that night at the race track, the sneering way Sky had agreed to sleep with him, the way he’d weaseled his way into Sky’s life and his heart, the late-night model-making sessions, the bags of food left on the door handle, that day on the beach he’d told Sky he wanted to marry him, so many years ago.

Sky exhaled, calmer, and Prapai tried to keep his heart steady, watching Sky open his eyes slowly, wetness in the corners as he reached for Prapai with a shaky hand.

“Better?” he asked, and Sky barely nodded, but he didn’t move. “Home?” he asked next when Sky didn’t speak. He nodded again.

Shielding Sky from whoever it was that had caused this reaction, Prapai helped him to his feet, a secure but gentle arm around his own. They left the restaurant quickly, a few dollars left on the table to cover the bill, but Prapai didn’t care about the food.

The car ride was silent, Prapai glancing over constantly to check on Sky, but he seemed to be focused on the road.

He remembered, he thought as they stepped into the elevator and he watched the numbers rise. He remembered why he had sold his other condo, bought this one instead and let Sky fill the balcony with plants. He remembered his mom’s surprise when Sky had crept into the kitchen the first night after bringing him home, embarrassed to be there but immediately welcomed by the family (and hit on by Plerng).

As he helped Sky into bed, even though he probably didn’t need it, he finally felt it, the swell of emotions taking over. Love and warmth and a fierce protectiveness over Sky.

“It was one of his friends,” Sky said finally as Prapai stripped his shirt over his head and fluffed the pillow behind him.

He shook his head. It wasn’t important who it was. All that mattered was that Sky was okay.

“He can’t hurt you.”

“I know,” Sky said, swallowing, biting his lip.

Sighing, Prapai held open his arms to Sky, holding him close as Sky took the invitation and snuggling into the bed. For a moment, he just stroked Sky’s hair and listened to his breathing.

He’d been about to tell Sky everything. And as he lay there with Sky in his arms, nuzzling his cheek and pressing a kiss there, he knew he wouldn’t have kept it from him in the first place. He supposed there was one more thing he had to do before this wedding, for both of their sakes.

*

The morning was cool, and Prapai had thrown the balcony doors wide open as he set the little metal table outside. They didn’t eat out here often, only sometimes spent sultry evenings with a drink out here. But it had a great view of a park below and Sky’s plants added to the greenery.

He’d gotten up long before Sky this morning, unable to sleep any longer, not wanting to wake Sky, who looked so peaceful. Instead, he’d left the condo and gone down to the best European bakery in town to pick up Sky’s favorite pastries, something indulgent and expensive, but he didn’t care if Sky would complain about it.

Instead, he set the pastries on the table and sat down to wait. He didn’t have to wait long for Sky to shuffle across the living room, bleary-eyed in his wrinkled shirt from the night before, probably pulled off the floor and back on without a thought. He stopped as he caught sight of Prapai rising from the chair outside.

“Morning, baby,” Prapai greeted him, trotting inside and pulling Sky to him. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head as Sky yawned and rubbed his face. “How are you feeling?”

Sky sighed, but he shrugged. “Okay. Better, I guess.”

Better was good, but it didn’t make Prapai feel any more confident in what he was about to say as he tugged Sky towards the balcony. “Come out here. I want to talk to you.”

Sky followed, although he did shoot Prapai a questioning look as he caught sight of the pastries, the gleaming white plates they sat on. Not their typical breakfast.

“Why are we out here?” Sky asked, reaching for one of his plants and sliding his fingers over the leaf.

Prapai sat down in the opposite chair, leaving the pastries untouched, his coffee rapidly cooling in his cup. “Because it’s where you agreed to marry me.”

He remembered it as clear as the morning air as he watched Sky run a hand through his messy hair. He’d asked Sky before, that first time so long ago on the beach when Sky had said he just wasn’t ready, wasn’t sure he would ever be. He’d brought it up after that, only in passing, not with any expectations attached. Just a gentle reminder that he would be ready whenever Sky was.

And here, on this balcony, one hot summer night last August, Sky had looked over at him and told Prapai to ask him again. He hadn’t known what had triggered it, if Sky had been thinking about it for a long time, if it was a spur of the moment thought. He didn’t want to know what it was. He had just asked and Sky had said yes.

Sky smiled at his answer, reaching for a croissant and picking at the flaky crust. “What do you want to talk about?”

Fuck, this was it. Shifting in his chair, he took a fortifying breath. There was no going back now. “You remember the accident a few weeks ago? At the race?”

Sky’s gaze flicked to him, unimpressed. “What about it?”

“Well,” he said slowly, grimacing. “It sort of made me forget some things, you know, like amnesia.”

Sky’s eyebrows rose, and Prapai really hoped this wasn’t going to get him in trouble. “What things?”

He hesitated, fingering his coffee cup and not meeting Sky’s eyes for a moment. “You.”

“Me?” Sky repeated after a second, looking doubtful when Prapai chanced a glance. “You forgot me?”

“Only temporarily,” Prapai said quickly, knowing how stupid it sounded. No wonder Payu had told him not to tell. But Payu was wrong, he’d decided last night.

Sky tilted his head to the side, as though Prapai was making this up, as though maybe it was a joke. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I know I should have. I know now that I would have if I’d remembered everything,” he said, trying to explain. He and Sky didn’t have secrets, didn’t keep things from each other, especially something like this. Sky would have helped him, would have guided him through it. “But I was confused and getting married very suddenly and Payu said I shouldn’t scare you. And I thought he knew what to do!”

Sky scoffed, as though it was a ridiculous excuse. “P’Payu doesn’t know me. You know me.”

“But I didn’t for a while there,” Prapai said, as if that would somehow make sense. “Now I remember everything.”

It sounded strange even as he tried to explain it. Sky crossed his arms instead of answering for a moment, as though he was absorbing what Prapai was saying.

“So you were just pretending to remember the last few weeks?” he asked, skeptical, and it sounded bad when he said it like that.

“If it makes you feel any better, I fell for you again.”

Prapai thought he saw a smile, maybe, barely. The tiniest of quirks to the corner of Sky’s mouth. Maybe he wasn’t completely in the doghouse yet.

Sky opened his mouth and then paused. “So were you just going to get married to someone you didn’t know?”

“I was gonna tell you last night,” Prapai said, lifting his hands in surrender. “And then you could do whatever you wanted, even if it meant calling off the wedding. But then, see, I remembered everything, so we don’t have to!”

For a long minute, Sky didn’t answer, watching Prapai with his arms crossed over his chest, and Prapai could feel his own stomach sinking. How mad was Sky going to be about this? No sex for a week? No honeymoon? Oh no.

“You were really going to marry me even though you didn’t remember me,” Sky said at length, and Prapai paused, unsure.

“Well, once I fell in love with you again, I thought it wouldn’t be too bad to be with you forever.”

“Romantic,” Sky said, but there it was, the smile at the edges of his eyes as he looked up, and Prapai’s heart jumped hopefully.

“Except that I was sad I didn’t know you,” he said, watching Sky, the way he pursed his lips together to stop his smile. “I wanted to remember everything.”

Sky uncrossed his arms finally, leaning over the table and raising his eyebrows. “And do you remember now?”

“Baby,” Prapai said, closing the distance between them, nose pressed to Sky’s, “I remember everything.”

Sky couldn’t hide his smile this time, and Prapai grinned as warmth flooded his chest. He vowed, as he leaned into Sky and kissed him good morning, that he would never forget any of this ever again.

*

Epilogue

“To the happy couple!”

Prapai flinched as champagne splashed down on him from Rain’s glass, but he was too happy to care about the drops on his suit, wrapping his arms around Sky from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“We did it,” he said, and Sky smiled, unable to roll his eyes even at that.

Prapai could barely hear himself think over the music, the joyous laughter rising from every table. They were supposed to be visiting each one, but Prapai didn’t mind spending a bit of extra time at this one as Payu arched a knowing eyebrow and raised his glass.

“Almost didn’t,” Sky replied, turning in his arms and smoothing out a petal on the rose tucked inside his pocket.

“Nothing would have stopped me,” Prapai assured him.

Sky did roll his eyes at that, but it was fond, and Prapai beamed in return. They had made it to this day and that was all that mattered. What came before wasn’t nearly as important as what was about to come.

Sky took the champagne glass out of his hand as Prapai tried to drink and he protested the action with a sad noise. “What were the first flowers you tried to send me?”

Smirking, Prapai pulled Sky’s wrist with the glass in it back to his lips, kissing the inside of it gently. “Sunflowers,” he answered, knowing he got it right when Sky’s eyebrow rose. “And you told me you threw them away, which was a lie.”

Plucking the glass from Sky’s fingers, he set it aside, kissing the fingers instead as Sky leveled a look at him.

“And what are my actual favorite flowers?”

“Peonies,” Prapai replied. “I tried to get them for the wedding but they were ridiculously expensive out of season and you wouldn’t let me spend the money.”

Sky’s eyes narrowed but he jerked his chin finally. “Alright.”

“Believe me?” Prapai asked, cheeky, leaning in to kiss Sky.

He heard Sky laugh, hands coming up to his jacket lapels, and his heart soared. He didn’t think it was possible to be happier than he was right now. Even with Sky testing him, teasing him. He wasn’t sure if Sky truly believed he’d lost his memory for a brief period of time, but he humored Prapai anyway.

“Why are you talking about flowers?” Rain piped up, and Sky just ignored him.

“We have other tables to visit,” he said instead, taking Prapai’s hand and tugging him away. “We’ll see you guys later.”

As they headed for another table, Prapai could only grin. This was all he’d ever wanted for him and Sky—a beautiful night filled with glittering lights, copious amounts of champagne, and gorgeously decorated tables surrounded with their friends and family.

Sky turned to Prapai as they walked, smile lighting up his face, eyes bright, and Prapai could swear he fell in love all over again.

“When are you going to get bored of me?” Sky asked, fingers twined with Prapai’s, and Prapai pulled him in close, closing his eyes as Sky held on tight.

“Never,” he breathed, sliding his arms around Sky’s waist, tucking his face into the warmth of his neck as happy laughter rose around them. “Never.”

*

FIN.