Work Text:
Peach knew he wasn’t the marriage type. He’d known it since long before he even thought to bring gender into the equation. He watched the country explode with proposals and weddings after marriage equality passed, and he was happy for all those other people, if a little bittersweet. But he was happy with his small family the way it was. It didn’t occur to him, for awhile, that he was kind of already married.
The sun was high, the sky clear, and the venue was beautifully decorated. Rows and rows of guests were assembled, and a violinist played sweet, gentle music just to the side of a simple, flower-adorned archway. There was a bench with bowls ready for the symbolic pouring of water and a long table full of symbolic food. It was everything Peach had always known a wedding to be. For all intents and purposes, it was perfect.
Absentmindedly, Peach ran the pad of his finger over the ring on his hand – it was a simple silicone band with purple and green colors running throughout it. As a chef, he shouldn’t wear jewelry that could harbor bacteria, after all.
Then the doors to the inside of the building opened and out walked the bride. Peach was admiring how lovely a woman could look on her wedding day when a puff of breath hit him in the ear, and he flinched away.
“Ai’Home,” Peach complained, covering his ear. Beside him, Home looked too pleased with himself, which made it hard for Peach to be annoyed.
“Imagining your own special day?” Home asked and nodded his head toward the wedding ceremony happening on the terrace below them.
They were in a hotel suite, on a vacation to the beach, courtesy of Home’s good will. He said it was an anniversary gift for the group – to celebrate the end of two years together. They had three rooms, all connected to the same living space – a full home at the top of a fancy hotel. One room for the girls. One room for the guys. One room for Suradech. Each room had its own balcony. Truly a gift only good money could buy.
Below them, the bride and groom were kneeling on a carpet, leaning over a low bench to have their hands over bowls of water. A white string tied their heads loosely together, like little tiaras. Their friends and family came to pour water over their hands and wish them well. The couple kept glancing at each other lovingly.
Peach looked down from the living room balcony and smiled softly. “Nah,” he said. “I’m not the wedding type.”
“Mm? You don’t think so? I think you’d look awesome in a tux.” Home leaned on the rail and batted slightly at Peach’s bangs. “A little styling here or there. There’s a looker under all that self-imposed frump.”
Peach snorted. “Gee, thanks.” He shook his head. “Not all of us can look like we stepped off the front cover of a magazine.”
As expected, Home looked smug and leaned back in a way that really played into the stretch of his torso and the width of his shoulders, making him look even more like he came off a photoshoot. He looked so damn handsome. It made Peach ache in the best way.
“Anyway, it’s not about my looks. I think I’m just content without the big show. I don’t have a lot of people I’d invite anyway, but even if I did, I think I’d just be uncomfortable in front of all those people. My partner would have to handle me being a shaking wreck, and that’s not fair to them.” Peach shook his head. “Beyond that, it’s a lot of work to be married. I’m sure I’d mess it up. I’ve known for a long time that I’m not the marriage type.”
Beside him, Home hummed. “But when you opened your restaurant, there were all those people there, including cameras, and you gave a nice speech and everything.” Inwardly, Peach thought he only made it through because Home had coached him through it. Then Home shrugged. “Well, whatever. Just means I don’t have to share the spotlight with you. Come on. It’s time to get dressed and go to dinner.”
If this were early in their relationship, Peach might have made a snide comment about how Home was the only person who needed to change three times in one day. Now, however, Peach trailed after Home to keep him company in the room, even though he wasn’t changing clothes. Secretly, he kind of liked watching Home change. His skin on full display, his muscles shifting as he pulled one shirt offn and another onoff. As his shirt cleared his head, his necklace swung down and bounced against his chest – a simple silver chain with a ring looped on it. As Home tossed his shirt down and grabbed for a new one, he also reached up to roll the silicone ring on his chain between his fingers.
Absentmindedly, Peach spun his own ring again. It was on his right hand, ring finger. The mirror opposite of a wedding band. If Home put the ring on his hand, they could be matching. Like a couple. Peach had considered bringing it up a few times, to suggest they match, but he kind of worried Home would stop wearing the ring entirely if he pointed out how similar they were and how much he wanted to match Home.
The ring on Peach’s hand was a gift from Home too, for their one-year anniversary. He’d given Pangpang a bracelet, Kan a pair of simple earrings, and Suradech an embellished pair of sunglasses. Peach didn’t even know how Home had known his ring size. He’d noticed Home’s ring a few days later, a ring that looked like a match to Peach’s. When he asked Home about it, the other had simply said “ah, you know the paparazzi would lose it if I wore a ring on my actual finger.” It hadn’t fully answered the question then, and now the half-answer came to Peach again. Home did wear a ring on his hand sometimes, but on his pointer or middle fingers. The only reason the paparazzi should care would be if Home wore a wedding band or a promise ring. But that –
Ms. Kan knocked on the doorframe just as Home finished pulling on his new, purposely faded jeans. She did not look in as she called out, “The rest of us are prepared to leave as soon as you have finished changing. Please try to be quick, as our reservation is in twenty minutes.”
Home smirked down at Peach and then winked. “I don’t think even my real mom kept me on schedule as much as she does.” Then he waved for Peach to follow and led the way out of the room. “Come on. Mother-in-Law is calling.”
Peach chuckled but did as requested. He thought it was endlessly fitting and yet amusing that Pangpang and Home called Kan “mom”, but about a month ago, Pangpang confronted Kan to propose they start dating. Since then, Pangpang called her teerak and wan jai, and Home called her Mother-in-Law. Most of the time, Peach that thought it was cute. Times like now, he wondered if it meant more. Except, it couldn’t, because Home and he weren’t dating. Home had never mentioned wanting to date. So he didn’t want to date Peach, right?
Peach should ask him... after dinner. Maybe.
The restaurant was nice, but not too fancy. Home had learned not to go overboard in the two years they’d known each other. The one he chose for their anniversary meal was decorated with white and pale blue banners and streamers for an event earlier in their day that had not been taken down yet. Peach ran his hand over one that he had to duck under a bit to enter the place and smiled at how soft it was.
“Good choice, P’Home,” Pangpang complimented once they were seated. Their table was beside a long, fake river that ran through the restaurant. Fish swam around in the riverwater, minding their own business, while curious patrons peered down at them in the water. “It’s just like one of those koi fish cafes I saw on Insta, except these fish aren’t swimming around our feet and nibbling on our toes.”
“So then, not like the cafe you saw on Instagram,” Kan corrected.
“Aw, teerak. Don’t rain on my joy like that,” Pangpang whined and leaned over to hug on Kan’s arm, pouting at the older woman until she sighed and pat Pangpang on the head gently.
“Fine, fine,” Kan conceded, and Pangpang cheered.
The food was delicious, and Peach was the first to say it out loud, and Home seemed relieved by his approval. They were all dishes Peach had never attempted to make before, so he had no experience about them. He loved them anyway and eagerly shared with the others to taste everything that was ordered. Halfway through the meal, Peach thought he heard Home mutter a comment about preferring Peach’s cooking, but it was so low that he might have misheard. Home quickly took a long swig from his drink, leaving his neck on full display as he swallowed.
Peach swallowed thickly too and lowered his gaze, only to have it catch on the ring around Home’s neck. Their rings matched. It was all he could think about for some reason. He imagined Home wearing the ring on his left hand and switching his own to match, and suddenly his stomach was fluttering uncomfortably.
If he and Home were dating, would things change? Peach wanted so badly to hold Home’s hand, to hug him before they parted at the end of a day, to kiss him goodnight or hello. If he slid his hand over the tabletop now, would Home pull his hand away? As if psychic and hiding, Home’s hand slid from the tabletop. Except then it landed on Peach’s knee under the table, a reassuring pressure.
Nerves had Peach standing abruptly. “Sorry. I just need –” and he turned to walk away without finishing his thought. He needed to get away from Home for a moment.
The more he thought about it, the more he wondered if Home knew what he was doing. The ring, bringing up a moment that showed them working together as a pair in front of a crowd, Home willingly stripping down and changing with Peach in the room, touching his knee – these things had become common and expected, but they felt very much like something a couple would do.
In his haste to leave the table, Peach nearly ran into a waiter and had to dodge out of the way. He slipped on a wet spot on the floor and tipped dangerously backwards toward the river. Trying to steady himself, he flailed his arms and hit one of the white streamers, which he then tried to flail off his hand so he wouldn’t ruin it, which just made everything worse.
Home was there in a moment, knocking his cup over on the table in his hurry. He grabbed for Peach’s hand, but his momentum worked against him. Instead of helping stop Peach’s descent, he encouraged it, and both men tumbled over the short wall around the fish river and into the water.
Amidst the shouts of their friends, Home and Peach took a moment to breathe after the fall. As far as Peach could tell, neither of them was seriously hurt. Just wet in the water that was up to his chest because of his half-sprawled position. Home was partially on top of him, having caught himself before ending up face first in the water and Peach’s chest.
The white streamer had come down with them and was wrapped up and sticking around both their heads and shoulders. It should have made Home look silly. Somehow Peach just thought he looked gorgeous, especially with the way he was looking directly into Peach’s eyes.
“Hia!” Pangpang shouted. “Are you alright?”
Home swallowed thickly and turned his face away. When he pulled back, the soggy streamer tore and hung limply from both their heads, most of it hanging from Home. They both stared at it for a moment before Home’s face turned inexplicably pink, his eyes widening a little.
“Home?” Peach asked, concerned.
Before he could ask anything else, Home started laughing, but it sounded a little forced. He stood up quickly and then offered a hand to Peach. As soon as Peach was upright, Home used his hand to drag him to the edge of the river. He stepped out and then offered his hand again to help Peach, all the while smiling extra wide.
“I almost forgot how clumsy you are,” Home teased. Then in English, he added, “ Whoopsie! Our bad! We look so funny!”
“Home,” Peach tried again, because his friend’s enthusiasm still didn’t sound right.
But Home continued to ignore him, instead greeting the restaurant manager, who came over to ensure their wellbeing. Unfortunately, he had no towels, but Home waved the concern away. Their hotel was close, and they were pretty much finished eating anyway. Which wasn’t exactly true, but it got the manager to stop fussing. As soon as the manager turned to go to the kitchen, and likely bring them extra food for their trouble, Home turned to Kan.
He grabbed her hand like a suitor and smiled at her. “Lovely, wonderful Mother-in-Law. Take this with my affection and enjoy your meal.” When he pulled his hand back, he left a credit card in her palm.
“P’Home, what are you planning?” the lawyer asked even as she pocketed the card.
“Why does everyone always think I’m plotting?” Home asked good naturedly. He waved off her concerns. “I just need to go get new clothes, so I don’t catch a cold. But I don’t want the rest of you to have your meal ruined. Logical, right? I thought you’d be proud of me for being so grown up and not throwing a tantrum.”
Kan’s gaze narrowed in suspicion. “Yes... It is a rather grown-up response to the situation.” Her eyes drifted over to Peach, standing beside the river, dripping onto the floor and looking like a pathetic cat. Then she looked back at Home. “Please ensure no laws are broken, whatever it is you do.”
With a dramatic gasp, Home placed his hand over his heart. “On my life, I swear it.” Then he gave a dramatic bow, arm spun out with flair.
“Hia, I’ll bring you some leftovers,” Pangpang promised, mouth half full. “Don’t catch a cold, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Peach agreed lamely. He just wanted to go dry off somewhere.
Together, they sloshed their way to the exit and down the street. Their hotel was very close. Besides which, Peach doubted anyone would accept them into their car. At a crosswalk, Peach stopped to sigh about the turn of events. He’d let himself get so caught up in his wild imaginings that he’d ruined Home’s meal. He expected the other to start complaining about his ruined designer clothes any moment.
Except that didn’t happen.
Instead, Home grabbed him by the hand again and led him across the street.
“Ai’Home,” Peach lightly complained.
“You’re lost in the clouds there, man. We gotta get back, and we gotta do it without being hit by a car. Just follow me,” Home said.
He continued to pull Peach one block down the street and into the hotel. Even inside, he kept holding on as they squeakily stepped into the fancy elevator. Peach gave an apologetic head bow to a desk worker as they walked over and nearly slipped on the floor. But then the elevator door shut, and he couldn’t see her anymore. Then it was just the two of them, riding the elevator up several floors, hands still held.
“You hurt at all?” Peach asked after a few seconds.
“Hm?” Home jolted a little and tore his eyes from the back of the doors to look at Peach. In the same motion, he dropped Peach’s hand, and the chef missed the contact immediately. “What? Nah. I’m fine. You?”
“My left wrist kind of hurts, actually. I think I landed on it weird.” Peach held up the hand Home had not been holding and then rubbed at the wrist joint with a frown. He hoped it didn’t swell or anything. He needed his hands to cook. “But you seem off. Like, even weirder than normal. You sure there’s no head injury?”
“Ai’Peach,” Home whined and shoved him gently. “I just didn’t want anyone to make any comments about us.”
Peach’s chest felt heavy. Oh. Okay. So, Home did not want to date Peach. He didn’t even want people to think he might. That was... fine.
The elevator doors opened then, and they stepped out into the hall. Home walked quickly down the hall, almost entirely on tiptoe, as if he were trying to save the precious hotel carpet. Peach, on the other hand, watched his friend with an unimpressed look and trudged his way down the hall as normal. Actually, he thought Home was being really cute, but he couldn’t let Home know that. It would give him a huge ego boost that would annoy the rest of them forever. Or it would make Home uncomfortable, given what he’d just said, and he’d avoid Peach more.
Inside their room, Home immediately started to undress and drop his clothes in the hotel provided basket. His already distractingly attractive chest now shimmered with a thin layer of water, and Peach wanted to know what it tasted like – ahem. Chef problems...?
He averted his gaze to hopefully avert his thoughts, but it didn’t work. Especially because Home stepped up and tugged on his shirt.
“Come on. You’ll catch a cold. You need to take a shower,” he said. Too close. Too intimate.
“Ai’Home,” Peach said to stop him and looked right into Home’s eyes.
Home looked intense, somehow both innocent and seductive, as he stood there in only his underwear and necklace, his fingertips holding the hem of Peach’s shirt. Slowly, he tugged the shirt up. Despite himself, Peach... let him. It felt insanely intimate, like the touch of a lover gently caring for him when he was ill. When the shirt came free, Home tossed it blindly toward the basket, his eyes never leaving Peach’s bare chest.
Was he breathing shallower? Peach certainly was.
“Home,” Peach all but whispered.
The heir’s eyes snapped up to his. “We haven’t really... been alone like this before,” Home said, his voice faltering nervously.
Somehow it was true. In all their time together, they had never honestly been alone. During jobs, they might find a moment where the others weren’t around, but they were working. At the Cok Long, the others were always around. Even when they were somewhere they might otherwise be alone at, like the movies, P’Suradech was always hovering somewhere nearby.
Not this time. This time, it was Home – standing in his underwear – and Peach – shirtless and shivering. No one else.
Peach was feeling emotionally raw and physically like a live wire. If there was anyone Peach might want to try the whole “relationship” or “marriage” thing with – it would be Home. They already cooked together, if you counted Home hovering around the kitchen to bother Peach while he cooked. They already went shopping together, if you counted Home coming with Peach to the morning market and offering to buy everything they needed, plus extra. Peach had even convinced himself they were kind of dating at one point, because Home dragged him to the movies once a month, but Suradech was always with them, and sometimes the ladies came too. But if Peach could cook and shop and date and sleep with someone for the rest of his life... Imagining Home there kept Peach feeling full.
Home’s fingers lightly danced across Peach’s shoulder and came to rest against the sensitive skin of his neck. Then he leaned in and kissed Peach without hesitation. The sudden action stunned Peach, but he accepted it gladly. The feeling of Home’s mouth on his, his hands holding Peach in place – holy shit. Home liked Peach too!
“Peach,” Home breathed out between them.
It was unbelievable. Peach’s mind flooded with all of his dreams, the ones where Home shared his bed, shared his dinner, shared his home. It all felt suddenly within reach, and he almost sobbed. He pulled Home back in for another kiss, and the other came easily.
“You seem even more excited for this than I am,” Home said teasingly when they paused.
“Are you kidding me?” Peach dropped his head forward. “This is all I’ve wanted for the past... I dunno, year?”
In response, Home snorted and buried his head in Peach’s bare shoulder, startling Peach back upright. His hot breath tingled down over Peach’s chest. “Peach, man.” He shook his head without raising it. “It’s been a year... how have you not noticed?”
“Noticed what?” Peach asked.
Home stood up and smiled at Peach with admiration and amusement. He lifted Peach’s hand up, his fingers resting on the silicone ring there. Then he lifted his own ring on the chain. “Dumbass, I asked you out last year.”
“Wha-?” Peach flinched and looked between the matching rings and Home’s face. “You were serious?! I thought you were just playing around! You gave everyone a gift at the same time.”
“ Dumbass , I gave you a matching ring that you can even wear while cooking. I literally held it out to you and said I hoped we could celebrate our anniversary next year too,” Home explained, exasperated but fond.
“Oi, don’t call me a dumbass, dumbass,” Peach argued weakly. Then he groaned and turned away with a whine. “Ah! So all this time, I’ve been worrying about nothing? All those dates were... were real? You’ve been trying to date me all this time and I’m the problem?”
Home laughed again. “You know, I thought you missed my proposal. But at least my wooing has been working either way.” He held his hand out toward Peach. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up so bad.”
Nope. Peach shook his head. He was thinking back on the way Home would drag his hand across Peach’s shoulders as he passed, the way he got caught staring and just smiled instead of looking away with embarrassment, the way he called Kan “Mother-in-Law". All the small things that drove Peach crazy because it made him love Home even more but Home didn’t realize he was doing – except he did know! It was Peach who was being ignorant of the situation. He’d been dating Home for a year?!
Before he could spiral more, his hand was lifted up by Home, who then kissed his knuckles to regain Peach’s attention.
“Since you missed it the first time, let’s just start over. We haven’t been conventional or anything, obviously. Plus, this gives me more excuses to spoil you and show you an awesome time.” Home looked right into Peach’s eyes, made sure all of Peach’s attention was on him, before he spoke. “Peach, be my faen and let me be annoyingly in love with you for the rest of my life?”
“This doesn’t sound like you’re asking me out,” Peach said, heart pounding painfully and distractingly in his chest. He was going to have a damn heart attack.
Home tilted his head adorably to the side and pouted. “Oi, I’m doing my best here. If it doesn’t sound like me asking you out, what exactly does it sound like?”
Peach swallowed thickly. “It sounds like a wedding proposal.”
“Oh!” Home beamed. “I can work with that. Yeah.”
“Home. I’m... I told you, I’m not marriage material.” Peach frowned and curled his hand around Home’s in contrast to his negative words.
With a snort, Home held their hands even tighter. “Ai’Peach. I’m not standing here expecting you to let me throw some lavish wedding. If that’s what I needed, I would have done it already. I only want you and the family we built. The life we’ve been living is great already. We’re damn cool ghost hunters, you know ?” And he waggled his eyebrows comically until Peach laughed at him. Then he dropped the grin and, for the first time, looked humble and serious. “I’m not asking for some stereotypical married life. Just... Just waking up beside you instead of in a different house. I just want you to know... that I’m yours, and you’re mine. That’s it.”
He made it sound so simple. But was it?
Waking up in the same house. Slipping out of bed to make breakfast. Home being woken up by the smell of fresh grilled vegetables and smiling at Peach with sleep still in his eyes. Home sliding up beside him, arms sliding around his waist and looking over his shoulder to sneak a peek at the meal. Lazy morning kisses. Eager, intense kisses against the counter. Dinner dates. Weekend trips to the beach. And through it all, Peach could see them together, just themselves. He didn’t need to change for any of those things to happen.
Maybe he really could do this with Home.
“Ai’faen,” Peach complained. “When did you get so romantic?”
The irritation bounced off Home like a lame balloon. The rich heir beamed in response to Peach’s complaint. Without asking, he leaned back in for another kiss, and Peach readily met him halfway. Home pressed him back with the intensity of his kisses, and soon Peach felt his back gently touching the wall beside the bathroom door.
Home’s hands were on his waist, on his chest, wide and hot. Peach let his own hands wander, still euphoric about the ability to do so. He was allowed to touch, to explore, and he wanted to know everything. How could he make Home shiver? What would bring him, gasping, into Peach’s arms?
“Shower?” Peach asked, breathless, as Home moved to suck on his ear.
“Shit. Yes. Anything for my faen ,” Home said, stressing the word like a declaration of victory. Then, with little struggle, he lifted Peach into his arms and carried him into the bathroom.
Peach didn’t know how he’d missed Home trying to date the shit out of him for a year, but the was no mistaking the feeling of his mouth on Peach’s body, his teeth nipping gently and drawing moans from Peach’s lips. The shower was the start of their new relationship – now that they were both clear it was happening.
Ah, Home had said he didn’t need the wedding, and Peach had said he wasn’t a marriage type of person. But with Home’s body pressed up against his under the spray of the shower, Peach thought he’d go through a ceremony for Home. It was legal now – they could do it. And when Home helped Peach dry off afterward, gentle but playful, Peach also had to reconsider his own statement – maybe he could be marriage material... for the right person.
He could see their lives spread out in front of them, his dreams turned into reality, and he couldn’t stop grinning.
“I love you,” he said while they found new clothes.
Home paused in digging through his options and turned to look at him. He smirked and nodded. “Yeah? Well, I’ve loved you longer. And now you’re stuck with me forever, Baby .”
Peach rolled his eyes, but his chest swelled with joy. Best anniversary ever.