Duang With You

I watch Quinn as he drives, humming along to the jazzy pop tunes he likes, before shifting my gaze to our hands. My hand rests on his lap, and he's loosely holding it in his. It feels like a dream... because everything about it's just so adorable.

 

"Where should we park? I don't feel like driving around in circles," Quinn says.

 

"How about MBK? There's usually plenty of parking there," I suggest.

 

"Alright, sounds good."

 

Today, we're heading into Bangkok. There are a lot of things we need to do, but one thing is certain-l'll be dropping him off at his house. Well, more like in front of his house, since he won't let me go inside.

 

"What you wanna eat?" He asks.

 

"Up to you," I reply.

 

"What do you feel like eating?" His tone softens.

 

We haven't seen each other much over the past week, but since neither of us has classes this Friday, we decided to spend the day in Bangkok. My mom has been asking about me every day, and Quinn has a high school reunion to attend tomorrow.

 

My heart races when we stop at a red light, and he moves the hand holding mine to gently touch my cheek.

 

"How about at Greyhound? You like that place," he suggests.

 

"Have you ever thought about what you'd do if someone tried to seduce you in the car?"

 

"You always have dirty thoughts in your mind."

 

"Then stop being so cute."

 

"All I did was ask what you wanted to eat and suggest Greyhound. How's that cute?" He grumbles, clearly annoyed.

 

I chuckle softly. We talk about random things-the weather, the traffic that is even worse on the expressway, and the cars still stuck in the jam as we approach the turn into MBK.

 

"Just remembering my favourite place is cute enough, isn't it?"

 

"And you, remembering every single thing I eat or don't eat at every restaurant-what do you call that?"

 

"Go on, compliment me. I'm waiting," I say, grinning as I press his hand tighter against my cheek like a dog waiting for praise from its owner. He sighs before speaking, just as he pulls his hand back to focus on driving.

 

"You're...very cute."

 

"I can die happily now. I don't need anything else."

 

"Alright, I'll crash into the barrier up ahead, then."

 

"You're so funny."

 

"You're such a pain."

 

But honestly, I feel so happy. Every time he teases me with his insults, it makes me happy.

 

Quinn doesn't take long to find a parking spot. He always seems to have good luck with things like that. We walk side by side toward the elevator, and when I notice students from my high school wandering all over MBK, I finally think to ask him something I should've asked a long time ago.

 

"You graduated from XX School, right?"

 

"Yeah," he replies.

 

"Did we ever run into each other? There were so many Jaturamitr events," I ask.

 

"I didn't like participating in activities. I 

never saw you at Jaturamitr," he says.

 

"I carried the school flag in the parade, you know."

"I didn't carry shit. It was hot and exhausting," he replies, true to his nature. laugh softly and ruffle his hair as he gives me a look like he's about to punch me. But something about what he said earlier sounds a bit off.

 

"If you never saw me at Jaturamit, did you see me somewhere else?"

 

"...Yeah."

 

"Huh?"

 

"Around the tutoring centre. You went to MMM, right?" He asks.

 

I nod, a bit stunned. My first memory of him is during university orientation. He stands out with his fair skin and tall frame, even though I'm about the same height. He looked annoyed that day, but after getting to know him, l realized that's just his usual expression-he hates the heat and chaos more than anything.

 

We plan to stop by YELO House to develop some film, then grab lunch and shop. Quinn refuses to use the film shop near the university as there's only one roll of film in the world. If it doesn't turn out, we can't get it back.

 

He wants to go to a shop he trusts, which makes me smile because it shows how much he cares about the film I gave him. See? How can I not call him adorable?

 

"You actually remember me?" I ask.

 

"I saw you often. You used to drop off your female friends at the BTS station."

 

"Were you secretly in love with me? Like in a romance movie?"

 

"Don't flatter yourself. I remember because you dressed flashy and had an annoying face."

 

"Well, I had to dress up for tutoring, just in case I ran into someone cute."

 

"You're as flirty as Jettana said."

 

"That was in the past!"

 

"Come on, stop pestering me," he says, scolding me as I rub my face against his shoulder while we're alone in the elevator.

The walk from MBK to the film shop is quite far, and with the blazing sun, even someone who doesn't mind the heat thinks it's unbearable. I can't imagine how Quinn, who absolutely hates the heat, is feeling.

 

"Are you okay?" I ask, reaching out to shield him from the sun. The sunlight hits his pale skin, making him glow like a light bulb. He's wearing a simple white shirt, jeans, and sneakers, but still, everyone can't help but stare at him.

 

"You walk ahead," he says.

 

"Okay," I reply, confused. But when he places his hand on my waist and moves closer to my back, I realise he's using me to block the sun. I laugh softly. We're the same height-how much shade can I possibly provide?

 

"Stand on your tiptoes."

 

"Calm down, will you? Haha."

 

"It's hot."

 

"Do you want to wait at the art gallery? I can go to the shop for you"

 

"No, I'll go with you," he says firmly. I turn to look at him, noticing how he's starting to get cranky. After walking for a while, we finally reached a shaded alley. Seeing Quinn drenched in sweat makes me feel a pang of sympathy. Poor spoiled boy.

 

"Have you been to this film shop with someone else before? How do you know about it?"

 

"A friend."

 

"A friend-friend?" I tease, but his expression changes.

 

Then he tells me something I've never heard before. Come to think of it, we rarely talk about these kinds of things. What can I say? I'm always focused on just us.

 

"A friend who didn't see me as just a friend."

"."

 

"But I wouldn't say we were dating. It's probably my fault for being thoughtless and a bit cruel," he admits as he pushes open the door to YELO House. The cool air from the AC brushes against my sweat-dampened skin. And suddenly, I piece things together in my head.

 

"So, does that mean you'll see them this Saturday?"

 

"Something like that."

 

"And you haven't talked to them since, right?" I ask, my voice softer now.

 

He nods before explaining, When he told me how he felt, I said I only saw him as a friend and didn't want to take it further. After that, we stopped talking, even though we used to be close and hang out a lot. Was that cruel?"

 

"Yeah, it was," I say honestly. He presses his lips together, looking uneasy at my answer. I want to tell him that I don't think he's cruel, not to me and not permanently. He's just cruel to that person in that moment. But maybe that is the kindest cruelty in a relationship where one person has already run far ahead.

 

"Let's develop the film first, then we can talk. I'll wait for you."

 

"Alright."

 

Quinn walks into the small shop alone. I watch him through the glass window as he speaks calmly with the staff and hands over the film I've taken. His cheeks have a faint pink tint, and I can't help but smile as I realise that whatever has happened in the past doesn't matter. What matters is that today, I have him. I still have him.

 

"All done," he says as he comes back out.

 

"I think the photos will be ready by two. This shop does a pretty quick job."

 

"Do you think the pictures will turn out nice?"

 

"If you're taking pictures of someone you like, even blurry ones will look good," I reply, making Quinn roll his eyes.

 

We walk back toward Siam in silence. I figure it's better to let him sort through his thoughts. We lock eyes, and it feels like there is a ticking time bomb between us. I sit down across from him in a dimly lit restaurant, even though the sun is blazing outside. Then Quinn finally speaks, "Are you ready to listen?"

 

"Yes," I reply.

 

Quinn briefly explains that the friend he mentions is from a different academic track, but they're close and often hang out together. That's when it hits me-he goes to an all-boys school. So, the friend he has a thing with is a guy. He goes on to say that he used to see both girls and guys before, but he never felt the need to take those relationships further. It's just like any other one-sided love story. And Quinn has always been the type to be a little cruel in

relationships he doesn't want to pursue.

 

"I don't really want to go, but one of the teachers I'm close to is retiring," he says.

 

"Maybe he's moved on by now. That's just my guess," I say.

 

"I doubt it... He sent me a drunk text just last night. He always does that when he's drunk," he says.

 

"Well, now I'm starting to get jealous," I tease.

 

"I don't like him that way. I never did," he says firmly.

 

"What way?" I ask.

 

"The way I like you, maybe."

 

I'm frustrated that I can't just pull him into a hug right then and there.

 

"And stop looking so sad. Your love isn't one-sided," he says.

 

"Your love isn't one-sided, Duang," he repeats.

 

For someone who has never gone out of his way to spare anyone's feelings, the way he tries so hard to protect mine...

How can I not want to hold him tight?

 

 ════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

"Not the black shirt, Quinn says.

"Why not? I think it looks fine on me," 

 

Duang argues, standing in front of the large mirror in the fitting room. Quinn shakes his head. It isn't that it looks bad-it looks too good.

 

"You need to give me a reason, babe. It's not even expensive."

 

"It's expensive."

 

"Oh, come on, Quinn. Someone who wears shoes that cost thirty thousand baht has no right to call anyone out."

 

"You're so annoying."

 

"Tell me why. If your reason makes sense, I won't buy it."

 

"Fine, just buy it."

 

See? He's always like this. Duang laughs to himself. He already knows he's being possessive. His brother often says he looks good in dark-colored shirts, too. Go ahead, act tough all you want. If you don't want me to buy it, then fine, I won't buy it.

 

"So, are you going to try this shirt on?"

 

"Yeah, I'll try it," Quinn replies, taking off the shirt he's wearing. No matter how many times Duang saw it, he never got used to his pale skin and stubborn face. He swallows hard, watching him slowly put on the light blue sweater. Quinn tells him he's going to Japan with his family next month, and since the weather will likely be cool, buying it wouldn't hurt. •

 

"What do you think?"

 

Duang looks at him through the mirror. He's never seen him wear this colour before. He looks so adorable, softer, sweeter, all because of the sweater. It's driving me crazy.

 

"You don't like it?"

 

"I like it. I have a compliment in mind, but you probably won't like it."

 

"Good. Don't say it," he replies.

 

Duang places his hand on Quinn's hip as he takes off the sweater and tosses it into the basket they agreed to use for the items they want to buy. For the ones they don't want, they return them to the racks. Before Duang realises it, Quinn's back is pressed against his chest. Maybe it's because he pulled him closer.

 

He presses a kiss to his bare shoulder like someone intoxicated. Quinn smells so good, his skin soft and smooth. He trails kisses up his neck, unable to stop himself. Quinn turns his head to tell him to stop, but when Duang sees his beautiful lips, he can't help but kiss him.

 

"You're crossing the line," he mutters, pulling away, but Duang kisses him again.

The second kiss is deeper. Quinn parts his lips, letting him explore with his tongue. Quinn moves naturally, and this kiss lasts longer than usual-maybe because they've missed each other. Duang's warm hand slides lower, low enough to graze Quinn's favourite jeans.

 

"Perv," Quinn whispers against Duang's lips.

 

"Do you think the people outside know?"

"..."

 

"Do they know you're blushing, panting like a puppy, and being bullied by me?"

 

Quinn doesn't answer. Instead, he kisses Duang for the third time, retaliating against his teasing as if he's some little kid. Duang's back hits the fitting room wall. The black shirt he's wearing, which he probably won't get to buy because someone is too possessive, has its buttons undone one by one.

 

Quinn's lips trail lower, nibbling softly on Duang's bottom lip before kissing his chin, his neck, and down to the centre of his chest.

 

"Your heart is racing," Quinn says.

 

And Duang knows it beats even faster when he sees the mischievous smile on Quinn's face. A sharp sensation spreads through his body as Quinn bites down on his right chest, leaving a red mark.

 

"Now you're the one being bullied," Quinn says.

 

"I want to drag you back to my place."

 

"Dream on."

 

"I want to go back right now and not let you leave for three days and three nights."

 

"Don't touch me. It's hot." Quinn shakes him off, but Duang doesn't care. He rests his chin on his shoulder, watching him shake out his T-shirt to put it back on.

 

"You nail and bail me," says Duang.

 

"When did I ever do that to you?"

 

"Always."

 

"Go pay already. We've been in here forever," he says, stepping back to put his shirt on and handing Duang his to wear again.

 

"I want to stay longer. Maybe deal with a certain stubborn someone."

 

"You can't do anything to me."

 

"I'm serious. It's already hard down there."

 

"Gross."

 

"How about you try it for yourself?" Duang says, lifting his shirt to show the kiss mark on his chest.

 

Quinn kicks him lightly, his face annoyed. In truth, he also has kiss marks on him, but no one gets turned on as quickly as Duang. Such a pervert.

 

"Get out."

 

"I feel so uncomfortable."

 

"Go to the bathroom, then."

 

"You want me to do this in the middle of Siam? People will think I'm a creep."

 

"Aren't you one already? You get turned on too easily," Quinn grumbles, carrying the basket of clothes to the cashier and paying with his own card.

 

Duang widens his eyes, unable to grab his wallet in time. He was just thinking about buying it for them a moment ago.

 

"I have more clothes, so I'll pay," Quinn says.

 

"How is that fair?"

 

"It's fine. Just let me."

 

"That's almost seven thousand baht!"

 

"It's just two items."

 

"C'mon."

 

"Who told you to wear expensive stuff?*

 

"Your stuff costs over ten thousand baht. Quinn. Be serious," Duang says, wanting to scold him. But Quinn just smirks and walks ahead with the shopping bag

 

"Babe."

 

"What?

 

«What time are you going to the reunion tomorrow?"

 

"Probably late morning. I'll go when I wake up."

 

Want me to drop you off?"

 

«Are you going to pick me up?"

 

"Do you want me to? I can."

 

"Do you really want to go?"

 

Duang likes it. The fact that they both care about each other, even if they sometimes show it in different ways.

"I want to go."

 

"Then come pick me up. Maybe come a bit early, and we can have breakfast together."

 

"Huh?"

 

*What?"

 

"You're letting me into your house now?"

 

"I didn't let you in before because the traffic would be bad on the way back. I wanted you to leave quickly."

 

"So, I'll get to meet your parents?"

 

"Not yet. They're not home. They went to buy perfumes," Quinn says, changing the subject.

 

Duang nods and grabs his wrist to steer him left because he wants to stop by and buy some new watercolour paints and brushes. They chat about random things, including family, which reminds Duang of something.

 

"Hey, can I pick you up on Saturday, too?"

 

"Are you that free, or are you just lonely?"

 

"No! I just want to pick you up and drop you off everywhere."

 

"Just make sure you can keep it up."

 

"I've been doing it all along. Don't you know that?"

 

"I do. and I appreciate it every time."

 

"See? You're adorable," Duang says, poking Quinn's cheek.

 

Quinn swats his hand away immediately, raising his hand as if to hit him. Duang closes his eyes dramatically, pretending to be weak, but Quinn only kicks his leg lightly before walking into the art supply store.

 

"Baaaabe!"

 

"What now? You're giving me a headache."

 

"After I pick you up, can you come have lunch at my place?"

 

".."

"My mom and P' Nan want to meet you. My dad's not home."

 

"Are you serious?"

 

"Of course. I've never brought anyone home before, you know? By the end of the year, we can get married."

 

"Marry, my ass," Quinn says, pretending to be annoyed. But he can tell his heart is racing, and his hands are cold, like he can't control his emotions... Have we really come this far?

 

"What are you going to introduce me as?" Quinn asks.

 

"Not as a friend, because you said we've never been just friends."

 

"Good answer," he says.

 

Duang watches as Quinn picks out his usual brand of brushes, even knowing the exact size he needs. It's like he remembers him complaining about his old ones being worn out and not working well. They lock eyes long enough to make Duang's heart race.

 

"I'll introduce you as my soon-to-be boyfriend."

 

And that's it. I still like him as much as I did the first day I started liking him.

 

 ════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

"So, how have you been, Quinn?"

 

"Same as always. You?"

 

"It's tough. I shouldn't have gone into medicine."

 

"You made your choice, so it must be the right one. Hang in there," I reply.

 

We're sitting by the soccer field where we used to play almost every evening. I just met with several teachers who are retiring this Monday. Time flies so fast that I only now realise I'm about to finish my first year of university. Next year, I'll be welcoming new freshmen, even though it feels like I was just a freshman myself yesterday.

 

"Has jazz killed you yet?" He asks.

 

"Almost.. but it's not too bad. I've got good friends," I reply.

 

"You're lucky. Finding a good community in university is everything," he says.

 

"But nothing will ever be like this place," I say, looking at the school flag fluttering in the wind. The old atmosphere brings back memories-both good and bad. But I've made it through all of them. It's then that someone sits down next to me. Looking back, most of my high school memories involve him in some way.

 

"Hey, hotshot," someone greets.

 

"Hey," I reply.

 

"Reply to my texts sometimes, will you?"

 

"You drunk-texted me. It's annoying," I say.

 

"Do you have a boyfriend yet?"

 

"Soon," I reply.

 

"Be serious, Quinn."

 

"I am."

 

His name is Thewkhao, but everyone calls him Thew. I don't know how popular he is, but he's been modelling for magazines since eleventh grade. Whenever we went to Siam, I'd get so annoyed having to stop and wait while he chatted with fans. And yet, he's the one who confessed to me. liked him, too. But not more than as a friend.

 

"I guess I got my heart broken," he says.

 

"You still haven't moved on?"

 

"No, but I'm not bothering you anymore. I've come to terms with it," he says.

"……"

 

"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I can't change how anyone feels," he says.

 

I sigh. He looks up at the sky, and I remember how we had a pretty big fight. He didn't understand whet Il meant when I said I didn't like him that way. He kept asking why I was so nice to him if I didn't like him, saying as he asked. I didn't know how to answer without making things worse. Because we were friends.

 

"Did he drop you off this morning?" He asks: A friend who could't stop another friend from feeling more than friendship. Whatever I did, wherever I went, if they liked me, they'd think I did it because I liked them, too.

 

"Yeah," I reply.

 

"A guy, night?" He asks.

 

"Do you think it was a girl?" I reply.

 

"Why couldn't it have been me? That's a question for myself. Don't give me a painful answer," Thew says, laughing soll... He turns to look at me, staring for a long time, as if reminiscing. And maybe he is. I can see it in his eyes.

 

"Can I ask why it's him?" He asks.

 

"What would you gain from knowing that?" I ask back.

 

"Maybe it'll help me finally move on. You've never been like this before, Quinn... posting him on your Instagram stories while he's sleeping. At first, I thought he was just a friend. I even felt sorry for him, thinking he might be the kind of friend you made me be," he says. I looked down at our sneakers, still the Same model. 

 

That day, when I bought it, and Thew followed suit, I didn't think much of it. I just figured he might like the

same things I did. But as time passed, I began to understand-he wanted what we had to feel special. And in the end, I became the perfect villain.

 

"But after seeing it over and over, I realize it isn't just that. It's something more, something special."

 

Duang once told me that we're always the villain in someone's story. But at the same time, we can also be the most wonderful person in someone else's world.

 

"I can't explain why it's him," I say.

"..."

 

"Even though he comes into my life like everyone else, I just know-someday, I'll smile, laugh, and cry with him without regretting a single moment. If it's meant to be, then it's meant to be. One look into his eyes, and I know that's the case. I don't need a reason."

 

That's what I tell him. I say it because I don't know the reason. Why Duang...? Why him?

 

"With him, I want to try. I want to do things for him. I want to give," I say.

Or maybe there are so many reasons that I'm too tired to list them all.

 

"No conditions."

 

"He's changed you this much, Quinn...? You're not the same person I used to know," Thew says.

 

"No, I haven't changed at all, Thew," I reply.

 

Because it's true-l haven't changed. I haven't forced myself to be anything else.

I'm still me. But everything has been slowly unlocked. If I'm the lock, he's the key. He unlocks me, revealing parts of myself that have always been there, just hidden.

 

"It's just that I've never shown this side of me to anyone before."

 

That's what it is.

 

"Does he take good care of you?" Thew asks.

 

"So well that I've become spoiled," I say, shaking my head in exasperation as I think about how he brings me food in the morning, even though I've told him the housekeeper already makes breakfast. Or how he ties my shoelaces for me when my friends are calling, rushing me to hurry up.

 

"Then I guess I can be at peace."

 

"You've got to grow up, Thew. No matter how much it hurts, you've got to keep moving forward."

 

"You're consistently cruel, you know that?"

 

"I'm just telling the truth."

 

"I hope he makes you cry like a baby."

 

"Duang would never make me cry, Thew."

 

I smile because I truly believe it. The last thing Duang would ever do is make me cry, at least not from something bad. He carries so much on his shoulders, almost never letting me feel bad about anything. He does everything without changing a thing. It's just him and me.

 

"Because there's nothing I'm more certain of than the things between me and him and me."

 

I believe it now that there won't be tears from anything bad...

If we're together.