LOOPHOLE (ROMANCE – BW AU)

Disclaimer: FICTION. Anything similar to a real-life circumstance is purely a coincidence. The characters are real people, but the story comes from my head.

Warning: Smut somewhere in there (just limey, not lemony); cursing, super minor forced (but not unreciprocated) intimacy

Additional Notes: The original version of this fic isn’t BW, so I can’t upload it in A03 as the original is there (I wrote it for another pairing). I only meant to tweet a quote from said story because BW did something that day that reminded me of said quote. But well, I decided to rewrite the whole fic the same day and did it. So even if you’re curious to read the original, there will be a lot of differences.

Bright

“FALLING”

He doesn’t mean to fall.

Falling is an emotional nuisance, a path he cannot afford to take. It’s complex, it’s sensitive, and it’s vindictive, forcing bilateral damage to anyone who tries to partake in it.

He avoids it at all times, with no one managing to fully capture the fist-sized organ inside his chest. He has always been careful, having mastered the art of giving only small pieces of his heart instead of offering it whole. 

It doesn’t mean he never tried. He had a relationship that lasted for years.

But while everyone thought he was on the verge of marrying her, it wasn’t true. Has never been true.

And then he came. 

Well, he has always been there, a constant force that nagged at him in every phase of his life.

“It’s different now, huh?” He thinks, annoyed at himself this time. He just made the worst decision of his life. He should have stopped it when he had the chance, but it was too late when he finally realized it.

He is on the verge of falling. 

And fuck, he wants to let go.

“RISK”

He doesn’t give it a name, doesn’t want to give it a name – this thing that keeps thumping against his chest whenever he is with him.

But he knows. He knows that It’s not just friendship. It can’t be just that.  

Because it’s potent, suffocating, and it drives him crazy. It’s an amalgamation of several types of emotions he refuses to identify.

It’s difficult to process, yet he knows that the dawning realization that’s starting to fuse his conscious with his subconscious will soon give way to the truth he is scared to admit.

But he isn’t ready. Not yet.

He refuses to jump into a raging river when he doesn’t know where its currents would take him.

Still, he falls.

Falling. It can be slow, or fast, depending on a person’s ability to clearly hear the knocks of the one who wants to open his heart.

The truth is, he doesn’t know how he exactly falls. 

All he knows is that it doesn’t even need words.

He just feels it. 

He hits the bottom ground hard, his heart breaking into several tiny pieces. 

But instead of them remaining as lifeless shards of a once whole piece – they dance with the wind, making their way inside the soul of another.

And he just floats along, joining those shards. 

And allows himself to be carried away with the fragile pieces.

He takes a risk.

And he probably only has himself to blame for what happens next. 

—000—

“How slow do you want me to ease you into it ?” he asks, trying to be playful with/ the younger man.

The younger man doesn’t reply, instead, he crosses the short distance between them & kisses him.

It’s nothing… sensual, or something similar to that. It’s just a brief meeting of two lips. 

A peck.

It shouldn’t be a big deal.

He shouldn’t be panicking. His heart shouldn’t be beating this fast as if he’s competing in a triathlon.

And most of all, he shouldn’t be enjoying the softness of those full lips against his. 

NO. 

This is ‘him’.  This is his–

The younger slowly removes his mouth from his.

And he is blushing and grinning.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

He cannot explain the surge of anger that envelops his entirety at such a simple statement from the younger. 

He sounds… happy. 

Unaffected. Casual. 

As if it’s just a joke to him.

And it’s unfair because that simple gesture is doing things to him he cannot afford to define.

He gives the younger a tight smile and moves away from him. He doesn’t see the younger one’s own smile drop at the action. 

He stands from his seat.

“Phi?” the younger asks uncertainly. “Where are you going? I’m–“

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Phi, wait. Please. I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It was careless of me. I’m sorry. Let’s just forget that happened.””

Of-fucking-course. He wants them to forget it.

“Of course. Let’s forget it. See you when I see you.”

“Phi?” 

“Hmm?”

“We’re okay… right?”

He curtly nods before leaving the younger alone.

Yes, they are okay. No, he is NOT okay. 

The younger’s calls and texts are not answered that night. 

And perhaps during the next couple of days.

“CAUTION”

He is a man of caution.

His steps are calculated. His destinations are clear. His goals are set. His strategies are always in place. 

He has long since learned not to gamble with fate, forcing him to proceed with caution in every decision and action he makes.

He hates getting caught off-guard. He hates the feeling of not knowing what to do. He hates being defenseless.

He hates this. 

He hates that he doesn’t understand why he feels this way. He hates that his anger refuses to dissipate, consuming him so much it’s painful to breathe.

And most of all—he hates that he can’t hate him. 

Things will be so much simpler if he can.

—000—

5 missed calls, 20 messages. 

All coming from one person.

He stares at his phone one more time before pocketing it. 

He’ll deal with it later. 

He’ll go to the agency early for another meeting.

He can just lock his dressing room and stay there until it’s time to mingle, just in case the younger is there.

Snatching his car keys and his jacket, he gets out of his apartment and drives himself to the agency. He’s 4 hours earlier, but so what?

After parking his car in his slot, he runs to the elevator.

Only to see the younger man there, waiting patiently for the elevator AND looking immaculate in a red oversized hoodie and ripped jeans.

The younger man recovers and offers him a hesitant smile. 

“Hey, Phi.”

His heart stops, preventing him from returning the soft greeting with words. 

So he simply nods back, trying his best to smile.

The younger man opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, but closes it immediately. 

He looks unsure, hesitant.

His nong usually never backs down from anything – except when he feels like he’ll lose something huge in the process. 

So does it mean–

God, he is overthinking this again.

The soft ding of the elevator saves them from further conversation. The younger man doesn’t hesitate & steps inside. 

He follows quietly.

There’s nothing but tense silence inside. It must’ve been the longest, most uncomfortable ride ever.

Not one of them speaks, as if afraid that it might trigger a topic that they’re both avoiding.

It’s him who says goodbye first when the floor of their dressing rooms.

“See you, nong,” he says lightly, opening the door to his dressing room.

“Phi, wait.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we talk?” The younger bites his lower lip nervously. “I mean… not now. When… when you have the time.”

Goodness, why does the younger man always want to talk?

“Oh. Sure.” His voice sounds steady, thank God. “I’ll message you when. I’m a bit busy.” 

“Okay. I’ll… wait for your message. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He sounds hopeful.

Ignoring the ache he feels, he gives the younger a small salute before entering his dressing room.

This is a coward’s way out, but he doesn’t care. His nong is breaking all his barriers without effort. 

He can’t think properly without these walls protecting him from the overwhelming feelings the younger man brings with him. 

He needs to breathe, and he will breathe now.

He stays inside his dressing room for three hours.

He’s not sure what exactly it is he’s running away from. 

All he knows is that this doesn’t feel right anymore.

“WEAKNESS”

Everyone has weaknesses that eat them up inside wherever life takes them on a wrong turn. But he has learned to maneuver his.

He deals with problems thrown at him, knowing that the strategies he developed as he grew up would help him break any barrier that comes his way.

He has prepared himself well against life’s curve balls.

But nothing has prepared him against Win.

And the role that he will play in his life.

Bright, for the first time, is left defenseless.

—000—

They have work together today.

If there’s something he’s good at, it’s being professional regardless of what he feels. And the younger man is the same as well.

They smile, they banter like they usually do, and they even flirt.

Until the director says CUT.

He has never moved that fast in his life. 

Saying goodbye to his manager & saying he can drive himself home, he immediately proceeds to the parking area.

Yes, he has every intention of running away.

‘I’m sorry, Win. There is an urgent matter I need to attend to. We can talk next time.’ 

He hits send and pushes the door leading to the parking lot.

But Win is already there, right next to the exit sign. He’s leaning casually against the wall when he arrives, surprising him.

“I know you’ll do this, Phi,” Win tonelessly remarks, breaking the silence between them. He waves his phone in the air. “Urgent matter, huh? Really.” 

In a couple of strides, he is in front of the older man. “Not this time, Chiva-aree.”

He wraps his hands around the older man’s wrist and drags him to his car without another word.

“Get in, Phi,” Win says after he unlocks his car, his eyes not leaving the silent man beside him. “You owe me this. Get. In.”

And he does. Win makes sure his seatbelt is on before he walks to the driver’s side and gets in himself.

“I’m driving us both back to my apartment. You and I will talk, and you will NOT get out of this.”

Bright feels like he has no choice so he doesn’t say anything. 

Not this time, just like what the younger man said. 

Not when Win looks like he’s ready to move hell just to talk to him.

“I don’t care if you keep quiet the whole ride,” Win says from the driver’s seat, his eyes firmly on the road. “But you will talk later.”

Silence.

“My ex and I broke up because of his silence,” the younger adds quietly. “Because I did nothing to address that silence.

“I allowed him to drown in his thoughts until it was too late to rescue him from them.”

Bright knows he should say something, but he can’t think of anything. He heard about it, but he’s not one to ask about the details.

He knows about Thyme. 

The guy is nice and professional. He knows Win and him are still friends.

Still, Win refuses to talk about it until now.

“I refuse to lose you because I didn’t do anything about this silence,” the younger man adds, stopping Bright’s thoughts. “So please talk later. I need to know why, Phi.”

Bright sees Win glance at him. 

He nods.

And breathes.

Fine. They will talk.

“LETTING GO”

And he lets go.

He crashes head-on into a solid wall that breaks him into tiny pieces that easily dissipate along with the hazy fog, revealing the truth behind the walls of uncertainty he had built around himself.

And he knows.

There’s no way he can be saved.

—000—

“What’s the matter, Phi?” Win blurts out as they enter his apartment. He shuts the door behind him and walks past Bright to remove his shoes, carefully putting them on the tall shoe rack at the entrance. 

He leans against the wall and waits for his response.

Bright knows he’s frustrating Win. 

The younger man looks distraught and very much confused as he stares at Bright, who’s simply watching him silently from the door, afraid to take one more step inside. “Phi?”

Bright shakes his head. That’s all his coward self can do.

And Win laughs, the bitterness of his feelings showing at every sound that comes out of his mouth. 

“Nothing. You say it’s nothing. But you’ve been treating me like a stranger, Phi,” he says. “Am I? Am I a stranger to you?”

No, no, you’re not. Bright remains unmoving.

“You’re quiet again,” Win says sadly. “I don’t deserve this silence. I know I don’t.”

No, you don’t, Bright wants to say but doesn’t.

“Was it the kiss?” the younger man asks, sounding hesitant. “I didn’t… I didn’t think much when I did that. I just… you looked so… I felt like you wanted to prove something.” 

Yes, I wanted to prove something. But not to you. To me.

“A part of me wanted to challenge that and…” Win suddenly looks so tired. “I got carried away. And if it’s because of that… I’m so sorry.”

No, it isn’t because of that. Bright wants to tell him it’s more than that.

That for the past few weeks, all he could ever think of was Win. Win’s smile, Win’s laugh, Win’s messages – everything Win.

That for the longest time, he’s been keeping these feelings, hiding from them whenever they chase him because he doesn’t know what to make of them.

That he knows what it means.

But he cannot admit it out loud because admitting it means he needs to deal with it, and he doesn’t know how to.

And that now, all Bright can think of is assuring the young man that he’s wrong in all his assumptions yet he can’t.

“You can’t be homophobic, Phi,” Win continues, not having any idea about the chaos that’s happening inside Bright’s mind. “We’re a BL couple, damn it.”

“Win, stop.”

The young man won’t. Win is not one to shut up or back out from something that means a lot to him.

“How can I stop? Bright, we need to end this… tension between us. I can’t live with this. It’s… weird. It’s not normal. It’s confusing. It’s… heavy on the chest. It even wants me to hit people at times.”

Win’s voice trembles.

“It’s… do you know people keep asking me where you are and I can’t even say where? That’s not me! I know where you are most of the time! And you know what that made me feel huh? Huh?”

No.

“That we stopped talking.” This time, Win answers himself. “If that stupid kiss is the reason for all of this, then I wish I could take that back.”

“No.”

“What no?” Win asks with a bitter chuckle. “You’re not even talking properly to me right now, I–”

In the blink of an eye, Bright is in front of him, pushing him against his wall. He traps Win with his arms, allowing him very little chance of escaping.

“Phi, what–” Win glares at him and tries to push him. “Get away from me. This is uncomfortable.” 

Bright will not budge. Though he’s pretty sure that Win can challenge him any time he wants to. 

He just… he doesn’t seem to be putting up much of a fight.

“I said move.”

“No. I will not move.”

It has always been a battle of wits between them. A battle of pride. A battle of dominance.  

“I am going to punch you in the face, Bright. MOVE.”

“NO.”

Win looks at him dully. “What are you trying to achieve here?” he asks calmly, but Bright can see the hint of nervousness in his eyes. 

The younger man is a brilliant actor whose technique lies in his ability to speak through his eyes, but they don’t work on him.

Not on Bright.

“I don’t know,” Bright admits as Win looks at him skeptically. He shakes his head and smiles at him. “I really don’t know.” 

It isn’t a lie. 

He really doesn’t know why he’s doing what he’s doing. The grounds surrounding it are still so convoluted he cannot put them into words.

So he just acts with his instinct, which he is pretty sure is an action triggered by the thoughts in his mind. 

“Try harder.” Win sounds so impatient he feels like the younger one will soon combust and just literally punch him.

Bright shakes his head again. 

“I really don’t know., Win. It’s just that you won’t shut up. You keep saying things that sound wrong to me. I feel like I have to stop you.”

“What did I say that sounds so wrong to you?”

“Metawin,” his face is now a breath away from Win’s. “There were a lot of things you said that sounded wrong. Don’t you dare say those words again.”

“What words?”

This time, Bright smirks.

“Well?”

You’ll regret this. 

His mind blatantly issues a warning, but Bright is not in the mood to listen to it. This is not the right time.

“I still don’t know,” Bright says. “But.. I’m hoping to find out.”

Win looks at him for a few painful moments, before Bright sees the change in the younger man’s eyes. His words seem to have ignited a switch inside the younger man.

“Win?” he asks carefully.

“Fuck you.”

Bright’s right. 

He pissed off the younger man.

And before he can add more to his words and try to explain himself, he’s given no chance. 

Win grabs him and kisses him.

Fuck, he thinks.

Win’s lips and tongue are working together to earn him a first loud moan from the older man.

It’s driving Bright crazy, and the younger man isn’t even doing anything much yet.

It’s just a damn kiss.

But God, he kisses so good, Bright thinks, the sensation of being kissed by Win is a feeling he will never forget soon. 

Not when the younger man kisses like how he works – he devotes his soul and his heart into the action, making it feel like a religious experience for Bright.

This time, Win allows him to invade his mouth, making him taste for the first time the forbidden fruit he has denied himself.

But Bright is not one to back out on this. Never. 

He returns the kiss with another burning one of his own, reveling at the taste that is just Win.

He’s not sweet, no, but he tastes every bit like the man that he is. 

His kisses get more aggressive, his touches more demanding. 

While Win doesn’t fully yield, he allows Bright to explore. As if he knows the older man needs a certain validation that only he can provide.

“Phi,” Win says when Bright starts peppering his neck with wet, burning kisses. “Bright, please… please…”

The younger man doesn’t need to plead twice.

Bright leans in to kiss him again. And with all his strength, he lifts Win in his arms. The younger man’s long legs automatically wrap around his waist, his mouth not leaving Bright’s.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he hears clear words of warning: You’ll regret this.

Oh, he knows he will. He knows he will regret this. 

He did not think this through. This is against the rules he made for himself.

Win grinds against him, creating a delicious friction that makes Bright shiver.

Fuck.

Oh yes– he is going to hell. 

But he might as well go to hell with this man.

So they can burn together.

—000—

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Win feels so good against him.

Bright gives in to the feeling of being possessed by the younger man, his logical thoughts temporarily set aside to make way for the emotions he has buried into the deepest pits of his heart.

God. Fuck, Metawin.

Bright wants this. Bright needs this. To experience how it feels to be one with someone his heart longed for in secret.

So he lets go.

Every raw desire he feels for the younger man is unleashed with every touch, bringing out the beast that he kept away for so long.

And Win? He takes it all in, takes him all in. 

The younger man meets his desire with his own.

Win screams Bright ’s name. He whispers his name. Until their bodies melt into one vengeful flesh of suppressed desires. 

Every moan, every pound, every thrust is like a delicious balm applied to an aching wound that stops bleeding, making way for the start of healing.

“Let go, let go,” Bright keeps saying as he watches the younger man move like a possessed animal above him, riding him to oblivion, rocking himself to the peak of pleasure.

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Bright says it, he screams it, and wonders if the man above him can hear the longing bursting out from inside his chest.

Win’s moans are getting louder, his movements getting more desperate. Bright urges him, and meets his movement with his own vigorous thrusts.

Be mine, be mine, be mine.

Bright feels him let go.

And he lets go too.

—000—

Is this the end? Is this enough? Will it finally go away after this?

His eyes trail on the sleeping figure beside him. 

Win looks so peaceful in his sleep. There’s a small smile playing on his mouth along with adorable soft snores.

Bright can’t resist and leans in to peck those tempting lips. Win stirs, but doesn’t wake up.

And he gets his answer then. 

No. He doesn’t think so. It’ll never go away.

He sighs and wraps an arm around the other man, finally allowing himself to surrender to the call of contentment.

Win

Win wakes up alone.

There is no trace of Bright anywhere, perhaps just the smell of the pillow. 

It smells so much like the older man – musky, spicy, and fresh.

And him. 

Win smells like Bright, being the lone evidence of their surprisingly passionate night.

If I can even call it a passionate night, he thinks with fond bitterness.

It was a special night. 

He didn’t think it would end up the way it did last night, but Win enjoyed it. 

Immensely.

For months, Win knew what he felt for Bright and he didn’t even deny it. He’s too old for a game of hide and seek. 

But he also knew that the man was kind of like a dream he couldn’t dwell on for long.

So Win doesn’t act on it.

It is easy for him to let go of his feelings just a little every time they have a shoot together, but that’s it. 

He can suppress it, not for his sake, but for Bright’s.

Still, his feelings for the other bleed through their photos, and their videos. 

He knows the fans can see how fondly he looks at the older man or how affected he is with everything that Bright does.

It never occurs to him that perhaps, the man can return his feelings.

Until last night. 

He blushes as visions of what happened replay on his head. 

Win feels hot and shy, and perhaps still a little skeptical. 

But it happened. It really happened. 

And they were both willing participants.

Win laughs. Loudly. And for quite a few minutes until tears fill his eyes.

“Oh God, I look insane,” he says after his laughter subsides. 

Win stands up from the bed, naked, and goes straight to the kitchen. He needs a cup of coffee before he can function properly.

He bravely picks up his phone and tries to call Bright even though he knows the man won’t pick up. 

Then he sends a string of messages just for the heck of it.

He doesn’t get a response.

Win smiles and finally places his phone down. 

He expects this. No unnecessary drama. Just silence.

He’s used to silence. 

People he used to love often went silent on him. 

Perhaps, it was their way of dealing with his energy because he could be too much at times.

But some of them used silence as a prelude to goodbye. 

They went silent on him before they left him. 

Win inhales his coffee, allowing himself to instantly relax at the smell of caffeine.

It’s just unfortunate that until now, he doesn’t know how to deal with it. 

Because the truth is, silence is more complicated than all the noise. 

It’s a plethora of every single unnamed emotion.

Bright is so good with silence.

And it’s hurting him.

Bright

“RUNNING”

Running away is his strongest suit.

He always flees – the initial impact of feelings is something his overthinking brain couldn’t handle. 

He needs to breathe, he needs to re-evaluate. 

He needs to feel w/o anyone trying to interfere.

He needs freedom, even if it’s temporary.

And then he will come back.

While he often runs away, it also isn’t his habit to leave things unanswered, most especially those that he runs away from. Because these things that he runs away from – they matter the most to him. 

Win belongs to this category.

—000—

Bright is not counting the days anymore. 

He knows he fucked up. He’s been hiding for days in his mom’s home, only answering messages and calls from his manager. Anything he needs to know about his job will reach him through his manager. 

He doesn’t need to answer anyone else.

And that has been his routine these past few days. 

He broods at home, he gets a call for a photoshoot, he leaves home and does his job, then goes back home to brood.

Fuck, he’s a drama king all right. It’s no one’s fault but his own.

Why did you leave?

Even he cannot answer that.

He had woken up feeling happy that day, the first in a long while. 

He even spent half an hour staring at Win’s sleeping face because the man was just too irresistibly beautiful.

Anyone who hasn’t seen Win’s face in person will never experience how to have their breaths taken away. The man is just too ethereally pretty in real life. 

Videos and photos just never do him justice.

Then Win had stirred and whispered his name. 

And Bright just found himself uttering the words without thinking:

I love you.

And that’s when he panicked. 

Three words. It was just three words.

But it hit him with an onslaught of suppressed feelings that he felt like drowning.

So he left. 

He had to leave. Before they overwhelmed him.

Perhaps he was afraid of Win’s reaction. Perhaps he was afraid of what his reaction was going to be when he saw the younger man’s reaction. Perhaps he just didn’t know what to say. 

God, he still doesn’t know what to do.

His friends say he’s stupid.

“You’re an idiot, Bright.” Bilkin keeps telling him. “This will be a whole lot easier if you just know how to sort through your feelings and name them.”

Perhaps he’s right.

His mom on the other hand remains quiet, but she always looks at him as if she’s screaming, “I didn’t raise you to be a coward. Go man up and get your man.”

Perhaps his mom knows. 

That, and because even when he’s far from the other man, he keeps talking about him.

“You’re hopeless, son,” his mom says with a smile one time when he keeps saying he misses Win’s kaprao, which the younger man perfected just for him.

Perhaps he really is hopeless. They all make it sound like it’s easy, but why does he feel like it’s the hardest thing?

He is in love with Win & he isn’t denying that, but does that make it easier?

Of course not. Because after admitting something, there goes the thoughts about what will happen – what can go wrong? Will it even go right? How about the people involved?

God, he hates overthinking.

A call disturbs the flow of his chaotic thoughts. 

When he sees who it’s from, he doesn’t pick it up. 

Off can bother him another day.

Off and Gun. They’re like his and Win’s… well, adoptive parents.

Though they’re more like parents to the younger though and more of older siblings to him.

Off calling him means—

It stops ringing after 10 calls, but he receives a message. Bright knows Off means business whenever he is forced to send a message. 

Off hates messaging. He prefers calls so he can immediately convey what he wants.

Bright signs and opens the message. It’s better to get it over with. 

“Where the fuck are you?”

And he knows Off knows.

It means Win had talked to Gun.

Fuck.

“AMBIGUITY”

The future is often bleak for someone who does not know which path he needs to take.

He isn’t searching for total clarity–God knows he needs the little bouts of uncertainty.

Security calms him, keeps him steady, gives him a sense of too much comfort. But the little doubts make him feel, make him act, make him move. 

It makes him search for what he needs to know.

And he needs to start somewhere. He can just learn things along the way.

That somewhere is the gray area where two opposing forces meet–the past and the present.

There are a lot of uncertainties in the present. Perhaps he needs to visit the ghosts of the past to help him put things into perspective. Sometimes tying loose ends can clear foggy roads. 

Maybe, just maybe, he will be able to finally deal with the future he chooses.

And soon.

He takes a deep breath and presses call.

“Off? I need a favor.”

—000—

Thyme

“Win, you should get more sleep.” 

Thyme frowns at the large eyebags on his friend’s, ex’s, face. Win has been complaining about his insomnia these past few weeks and has been pestering Thyme whenever he can’t sleep.

“I can’t find him, Thyme,” Win replies.

Thyme sighs at the change in subject. 

“He’s not lost, that’s for sure.”

“Thyme!”

He frowns. Whenever Win uses the whiny tone, he finds himself still catering to his whims. “I’m just saying that he’ll appear soon. He leaves for a while and then comes back. He just needs time.”

“And just how well do you know him?”

Not for long, Thyme responds inwardly. But enough, he adds in his mind.

The truth is, Bright reached out to him a couple of weeks ago through Off. 

And they’ve been talking since. 

Not about Thyme & Win. Just about Win.

They aren’t friends, at least not yet, but… they’re getting along quite well.

Bright, he finds out, is a really good guy whose heart is in the right place.

But he uses his brain too much, and that clouds his decisions in life.

Bright doesn’t really need Thyme’s help to fix things with Win, but he understands why Bright needs to approach him.

He hasn’t asked questions that Win can answer, but he makes sure to ask Thyme about things that might put things into perspective.

He can’t let Win know though.

“We meet once in a while at the agency,” Thyme says carefully. “Had a couple of drinks with common friends, but that’s it. And that’s not the issue here. I’m saying he’s probably busy and needs time.”

“Time for what?” Win sounds frustrated.

But as Thyme looks at his friend’s expression, he knows there is more to it than that. 

“I was the one who was… overwhelmed. He should have at least… waited.”

“You love him.” Thyme feels a familiar sharp sting that lasts for just a second before it fades away and transforms into something resembling acceptance, for himself, and happiness, for his ex slash friend. 

He has long since learned how to deal with this.

He’ll love Win forever, but he already found someone else who needs his love more than this man.

Kavin. Also a colleague at the agency. Opening his heart to Kavin happened 3 months after the breakup.

Win & him fell apart. It changed the game between them a long time ago. Win’s persistence back then felt like noise to him and added to his feeling of suffocation.

So Thyme blocked him and stayed silent. It was painful. But they didn’t want to part as strangers. So they fixed it before they decided to break up.

Win shakes his head at Thyme’s statement with a groan.

“And what does that mean?”

Win gives him a soft smile. “I‘m sorry, Thyme. It’s him who needs to hear the answer first whether I love him or not.”

“Fine,” Thyme finally says. “I won’t insist anymore. But I don’t have an answer for you either.”

There is a short pause as if the younger man is pondering whether or not to believe him. But when Thyme sees the nod, he knows his response is taken seriously.

“Just sleep, Win,” Thyme says. “Bright will realize the error of his ways and finally show himself to you one of these days. Give him time to sort things out for himself, then he will come back to confront them. Probably.”

“I’m worried.”

“You just miss him.” There. Thyme says it for both of them.

Win doesn’t respond, but it’s answer enough for Thyme.

“Sleep, Metawin,” he says, and Win immediately gets the hint. Whenever Thyme uses Metawin, he means business.

“Fine,” the younger one says with a small smile. “Saying goodnight now. And thanks, Thyme. For still being my friend.”

“Please. We’re in it for life,” Thyme nods. “Good night, idiot.”

Win nods and gives him one small wave before ending the call, making Thyme smile a little.

—000—

Thyme closes his laptop and stands up – he needs a smoke.

He snatches the pack of cigarettes off the coffee table and finally joins the man waiting for him at the patio.

Virtually waiting for him at the patio.

Thyme grins at the agitated face.

Bright welcomes him with a sharp glare.

“You’re an idiot, Thyme,” he says from the screen of the other man’s iPad. Yes. iPad. “Put it up properly. You look weird upside down.”

“I panicked!” Thyme explains as he sits on the couch, propping up the gadget properly against the small vase on the table. “When I saw his name calling, I had to hide you!”

“He. Wouldn’t. See. Me.” Bright’s voice is firm, but he isn’t really angry.

“Well, he didn’t. Stop complaining,” Thyme replies. He pulls a stick out of the pack. “You should be grateful I didn’t mention you.”

Bright stands up, making the screen of his own iPad wobble. 

“Where are you going? You’d better not pee. I don’t want to see little Bright, man.”

“Idiot,” Bright says. “I’m joining you for a smoke. Virtually, of course.”

“Where are you, by the way?” Thyme asks, eyes narrowing at the view that is revealed when Bright finally settles down. “I mean I know you aren’t home, but which house–”

“I’m at Mom’s.”

“Still?” Thyme looks thoughtful. “So Win probably knows where you are. He’s just too polite to bother your mom.”

Bright just shakes his head as he blows the smoke from his mouth, watching it curl in front of him as it mingles with the night air, which is still a bit cold despite the hint of the new season.

“Why did he call?”

Bright didn’t hear the conversation that ensued from his perch on the patio table, only catching bits and pieces of Thyme’s words.

“Why do you think he called?”

“Smart is not your strongest pursuit, Thyme.”

Thyme just laughs. “Being insensitive is not yours either, Bright. It’s Win. He doesn’t just call to exchange pleasantries.”

He was looking for you. The words are left unsaid, but it’s there hanging in the virtual space between them, screaming a burden that challenges the comfort that should have existed between two people familiar with each other.

“What did you tell him?”

It’s difficult. For Bright to speak to Thyme about the man’s old flame. He had learned that Thyme and Win’s feelings for each other were really genuine, which was not a common occurrence in their world full of lies.

“Nothing. I told him to get some sleep.” Thyme is not lying. “He will not sleep, not unless you finally respond to his calls and text messages.”

I know, Bright wants to say. But how can he? He doesn’t know how to face these feelings. Or, to put it simply, he doesn’t want to know the consequences of what he has done. 

He’s a coward. 

So he hides and runs away, afraid of what his actions will do to him and Win.

“Go back, Bright,” Thyme says, puffing the last of his cigarette and placing it on the ashtray. “Go back home. I’m ending this call too. I’m sleepy.”

“As if. You’re going to call Kavin after this and you two will gossip about me and Win like the little idiots that you are.”

Thyme doesn’t take the bait. He looks serious.

“You’re a bastard, Phi. Go back. I mean it.”

“I need time.”

“You’ve had enough of it. You’ve kept him waiting for long. What’s so hard about this?”

Bright flinches at the implication of the man’s statement.

“You know why.”

Thyme scoffs. “This has something to do with you. You’re not in denial. Not anymore. You actually admit it now – whatever it is that you feel for Win. And that’s what scares you. Because you know what you’ll want to do. You know what you can do for you and him.”

Thyme hits a nerve. The things he’s saying are always scarily accurate. “This – prolonging this – is bad for you. It is bad for Win too. You both overthink. Before it destroys you both, seal the deal already.”

“And if… sealing the deal is bad for us?”

“At least you tried.” Thyme sighs. “Look. Sealing the deal is one of the things I didn’t do right. I mean… I’m okay now. We’re okay now, but sometimes I still feel that sting. It could’ve been different if I knew how to treat Win right.”

Bright listens.

“Win… he thought it was his fault because he wasn’t able to understand my silence. But… he’s wrong. I was silent because it was my… way out.”

Bright finally gets where this is going.

“And you allowed it to happen because you knew that would solve your predicament of choosing between Win and your need for freedom. Because through this, you could always say it was out of your control.”

Thyme nods sadly. “I didn’t convince him. I didn’t even fight for him.”

“You’re… a bastard, Thyme. If I was there, I would’ve punched you.”

“I know. So don’t be like me, okay? Just… go home soon, yeah? I’ll leave you to think about it. I am ending this now. Let Kavin and I gossip in peace. He’s waiting.”

“Fine. I’ll call again soon.”

“I will. Now think about what I said and go back.”

Bright nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good. I’d better go now. Boo boo will soon look for me.”

“You call each other Boo boo? All right. Goodbye before I barf.”

“Bright?”

“Yes?”

“He’s your problem now,” Thyme says quietly. “Don’t make it complicated.”

“Is he?”

“Yes. Yours.”

Bright exhales.

Thyme smiles at his newly found friend and ends the call.

“CHOICE”

It’s not a matter of fate, but a matter of choice.

Bright chooses to fall.

He must deal with the consequences of falling in love with one Win Metawin.

—000—

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Bright wants to smile at the hostile greeting, but he maintains the stoic face he’s so good at. 

He follows Win inside his apartment but doesn’t move away from the door.

It reminds him of a similar incident, but he will make sure it won’t end the same way this time. 

“Can we talk?”

Win turns towards him, his eyes narrowed into slits. He stubbornly leans against the same damn wall that triggered everything. 

“What do we need to talk about?”

Bright knows the other is angry. 

This is your fault, what do you expect? he thinks.

He needs to take this slow. 

Bright leans against the door and crosses his arms casually. 

“You know what we need to talk about.”

Win scoffs. 

“Oh. So after running away for days, you decide you want to suddenly talk, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Bright says, nodding. “Can you listen to me first? I won’t leave this place until you listen to me.” 

Then he suddenly notices the silence. “Where are your dogs?”

Win’s gaze becomes colder. 

“You just noticed it now when you couldn’t see them last time?”

Okay. He should be ashamed. Things happened so fast last time that he didn’t even notice Win’s dogs weren’t around. 

“Erm.. sorry.”

Play it cool, Bright.

“Whatever. They’ve been with my parents since a few weeks ago. I’ll pick them up this weekend.”

“Can I come?”

If it’s more possible, Win’s eyes become narrower. “And why will you do that?”

Okay, Bright, This is it, you motherfucker. 

He knows they’re too old for games. 

And after what he did, going around in circles won’t work on this man. He needs to be direct. He needs to lead. He needs to show Win that he is here because he has a very clear agenda.

“I want to see your parents,” Bright replies. “It’s been so long since I have seen them. Plus, don’t you think they’ll officially want to meet your… boyfriend?”

A pause. 

Okay. It’s a bit fast, Bright. But he maintains his stance.

He’s almost sure Thyme has done a lot of stupider things than this. 

Not that he’s comparing himself to Thyme. That’s unfair to them both. 

But he needs to justify his stupidity with more stupidity. 

And who else is a better candidate than Thyme?

“Boyfriend.” 

The way Win says it feels like Bright has just been submerged in a tub full of ice cubes. 

“Yes. Boyfriend.” Honestly, he doesn’t know how he’s still able to maintain such a confident gait when he is being murdered by Win’s eyes.

Win laughs, making Bright inwardly cringe at its coldness. 

“Is this what a boyfriend does? Ghost his boyfriend?” 

“Okay that stings,” Bright admits loudly.

“So, is this? A boyfriend—“

“Win–“

“-fucks his boyfriend before running away, making him overthink? Because you know, you fucked me, we cuddled, fell asleep in each other’s arms, and then I woke up w/o you beside me. No note. No LINE message. No calls. And then you didn’t contact me for days. DAYS, Chiva-aree.”

Okay. He should really be ashamed. 

“I called everyone you knew, even forgot to take a bath for days.”

“You take a bath four times a day,” Bright quips, earning him a full-on glare. “Sorry.”

“This is not a joking matter, Phi.” 

But Bright’s not joking. 

“I… I know where you were. I could have gone there any time, say hi to your mom, but… I know you needed time. Or whatever it was you needed that’s why you left. I’m not stupid.”

He looks sad.

“If I were you, I would have run away too. We just crossed the line between friendship and… something else. BUT… I would have explained why I did after I calmed down. I assumed you panicked and that’s a normal reaction, but… Phi. I wouldn’t leave you hanging.”

“I’m sorry.”

Win’s smile looks sad. “It’s okay. What’s done is done. But… don’t ever call me boyfriend again, okay?”

“Why not?”

“Are you really asking that? Do I seem like a joke to you?”

This is not going towards the direction Bright wants. 

“Win, I am not joking.”

Win shakes his head and waves at Bright. 

“You just need to rest. I assume you just got back. I’ll talk to you soon, Phi, okay? Good night.”

“Win.”

Win exhales. “This is tiring. Just go home and rest, Bright.”

“No.”

“There goes that no again. You realize your No’s don’t do us any good, don’t you?”

“Fine.” Bright sighs. “Just let me say my piece and I’ll leave you.”

“Okay. Shoot.”

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot.”

“I know.”

“There is no excuse for what I did. I was really simply an idiot.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bright sighs. “And you pretty much guessed what happened, Win. That is exactly what happened. I panicked. I left. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I ran.”

“I know.”

Win’s two-word replies are getting quite frustrating. Bright’s patience is being tested. But he thinks he deserves it so he’s trying not to react the usual way he would have reacted. 

“And I’m here because I pretty much need to make up for that.”

Win sighs. “You know, Phi. I was just angry because you left w/o a word. but the truth is, I was at fault too.”

“Win–“

“No. Listen to me.”

And Bright does.

“After… after the anger, I thought about where this all started. And I realized it started when I kissed you first.”

Bright keeps quiet.

“I could’ve made my intentions clear, but– I shrugged it off as a joke. And… and told you to forget about it.”

“I… don’t want to assume why you turned cold after that, but–all I know is that regardless of what you really felt, I should’ve clarified what you felt about that kiss instead of dismissing it. And for that… and for that I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry.”

“But–“

“Phi, I know you’re at fault too. But I just want you to know that I know I have a part in this misunderstanding too. It’s not easy to deal with… things like this.”

“Win. You did what you had to do. I did what I had to do to make sense of this.”

“Okay,” Win replies nonchalantly. “You’re right. You did what you had to do. I did what I had to do. So… can we both rest now? Go home.”

“I’m not yet done. I still have something to say.”

“Fine. What?”

“I miss you.”

No response. No two-word reply. 

Bright feels a little satisfaction that he finally catches Win off-guard judging from his reaction.

His mouth is agape, his usually small eyes turning wide. 

“No ‘I know’?” he teases. 

Bright feels like he wins this round.

Win clears his throat and glares at him. 

“And? So what if you miss me?” 

Okay. He doesn’t win this round. 

But no, he will not allow this to go to waste. 

It’s up to his stupid ass to take a step forward and do something about this.

So he does. 

Bright takes a few steps towards Win so suddenly that the younger man almost trips on his feet in his haste to step back. 

Bright boldly wraps an arm around Win’s tiny waist, and pulls the younger man closer to him until they’re chest to chest.

Win looks surprised, but he still manages to maintain that intimidating look. 

It’s clear that the younger one will never back down on this.

It’s time for the next move. A do-or-die move. THE honesty move.

“I love you.”

Bright still doesn’t get a reaction. 

Damn this man.

“I think I should repeat myself,” Bright says, his hold on the other tightening as he matches the stare Win is giving him. “I love you, Metawin. Or if I may be bolder–I am in love with you.”

“I want to do this with you, whatever we shall call this. I can be your secret. You can be my secret. You can flaunt me. You can scream to the world you own me. I don’t fucking care. Just… be mine. Just mine, please. And I’m yours. Like… I’m fucking yours, Win.”

For a flicker of a second, Bright sees a slight softening on Win’s expression, but it’s gone even before he can revel in it. 

“You don’t believe me.”

Win’s stare hardens.

“Okay. That’s reasonable,” Bright says lightly. “But don’t you think it’s also fair if you let me prove it to you?” 

Win doesn’t respond and Bright takes that as a sign.

“If you’re not going to respond right now, the world will know that I’m in love with you.”

Win’s lips twitch, but he simply raises a brow, as if daring Bright.

“Win, I’m serious. The whole world will KNOW.”

Win shrugs and still doesn’t say a word.

“I gave you a warning, Win,” Bright says. “We can never undo this.”

Win remains unperturbed.

Bright takes a deep breath.

And does something he never thought he’d do in this lifetime.

—000—

Bright gets his phone from his pocket w/o loosening his hold on Win, finally earning him a curious gaze from the other. 

Bright ignores the prickling feeling of being stared at and opens the app. 

Two simultaneous beeps resound at the entrance of Win’s condo.

And then a few more after that. And then a few more.

Bright pockets his phone and smiles tenderly at Win. 

”What did you do?” The latter narrows his eyes at him.

Bright shrugs. “I told you the world will know. Check your phone.”

Win pushes him away and hurriedly goes to find his phone. 

Bright allows him this time. 

He follows the younger man further inside his home, taking his time to give Win the chance to see what he’s done.

To be honest, Bright feels a little proud of himself. 

For someone who’s been a drama king about this, he sure’s working hard to give this a cheesy happy ending.

The last piece of the puzzle has yet to fit though: the willing participation of the other party in this love story.

Bright watches from the entrance of the pristine living room as Win snatches his phone from the night stand and checks why there is suddenly a huge number of notifications. 

And Bright knows when he finally sees it.

“Fuck.” 

The younger man’s eyes widen comically as he stares at his phone. He lifts his head to meet Bright’s gaze. 

Much to Bright’s pleasure, there is a small blush starting to creep up the younger man’s cheeks. 

“You did it.”

The older man tries to act casual even though his heart is beating a mile a minute.

“I told you I’m serious.”

“But… but…” Win stares at his phone again. “Our CEO will kill you, us.”

Bright shakes his head. “I told him he can’t stop me on this. Not anymore.”

He had called the CEO on his way to Win just to inform him what he was going to do. 

Bright tells him that he couldn’t stop him from doing this anymore and that they, BW, can be the agency’s new voice to the community if that’s how it has to be.

The CEO had simply sighed, knowing that Bright’s stubbornness was innate & was very difficult to crack. He just reminded them to be extra careful after the bold move as the agency has huge plans for them both.

Bright doesn’t thank him. 

He really doesn’t need anyone’s permission for this. 

But he is professional like that, and if he needs this to work, he will need to inform the right people. He will not allow anyone to touch Win.

“This is just…” Win looks at him again. 

But this time, Bright swears the younger man is about to cry. 

“Phi this is… absurd. Everyone just read it and they’re all commenting and…”

Bright crosses the distance between them. 

He gets the phone off Win’s hands and pulls him closer to him. The younger man doesn’t protest this time but instead looks at Bright with uncertainty. 

But hope is the dominant emotion in those eyes, and it’s melting Bright’s heart.

“I I kind of really love you, Win,” he says. “Like.. I’m kind of really MADLY in love with you.”

Bright’s pretty sure he’s blushing too, but he doesn’t care. He’s supposed to blush at a time like this. 

“Kind of?” Win asks, but he’s also smiling this time.

There is still a trace of doubt in him, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at Bright now, or his feelings for the younger.

And yes, they’ll deal with all the consequences later. 

But tonight, just for tonight, they’ll let it be.

“Well, you know. We can take it one day at a time. Get to know each other since I know nothing about you, it seems.”

Win laughs at the sarcasm, the last of his walls finally crumbling down. 

He shyly hooks an arm around Bright’s neck.

“You’re not going to run away again, are you… boyfriend ?”

Bright tries not to smile like a fool in love. He really tries not to. 

But of course, he fails. 

Win called him boyfriend. Who won’t be giddy about that?

“No. Not anymore. I think I just bared all my feelings to the world. There is nothing to run away from.”

“Good.”

“So…” Bright pulls him closer if that’s even possible. 

“No… punching Phi in the face? I mean… you’re not going to break my heart later, are you?”

“No. We’re too old for that. You told me you love me. And I love you too. Why wait? Just don’t deliberately break my heart again or I’ll cut every oversized black & white t-shirt you own & feed them to the dogs.”

Bright looks genuinely horrified. “Not the oversized shirts!”

And they both laugh. 

Because it feels good to laugh over something stupid.

“But seriously, Win,” Bright says after a while. “We’re okay? You’re okay?”

Because he needs to know. He has to know.

Win nods with certainty, his eyes not looking away to show the sincerity of his words. “I am okay. We are okay. It isn’t that hard to convince me.” 

And as if to prove his point, Win kisses Bright languidly to convince him that his words are true.

Win’s taking his time and Bright allows him. 

The younger seems to be sealing the deal on his own, filling the last of the cracks with reassurance. 

Bright just kisses him back, and revels at his taste.

He can kiss Win all day until he runs out of air to breathe. 

But he can be patient for now and will allow Win to take the reins. 

They can do it slowly if that’s what the younger man wants.

“Phi?”

“Hmm?” Bright kisses him on the nose.

“I kind of… love you too,” Win admits shyly. “Like… really love you too. I think I haven’t really… properly said it back yet.”

Okay, that’s it.

Bright picks him up, bridal style.

He carries the ridiculously long Win to his ridiculously large couch & starts showing him how much he really kind of loves him.

So much for your patience, huh?

Bright ignores the voice in his head. 

It keeps saying stupid things anyway.

Bright tweeted 2 hours ago.

“I am in love with @/winmetawin. And if he takes me back, I’m his.” 

965.5K hearts. 950.6K RTs. 

It’s the exact cheesy ending he is hoping for.

“BEND”

The rules he has for himself are irrevocable, untouchable.

Except those involving Win Metawin. 

He’s always the first in line to break his rules when it comes to him.

Win is the loophole to the plans he made for himself.

He is, & will always be, the exception.

—000—

Bright feels a sudden tightening around his waist and smiles.

“Hey,” he greets without turning around. 

He can feel Win’s face buried on his back. 

“Mmmrniing,” he hears a muffled greeting. “Izdtmybrkfst?”

Bright chuckles. 

“I assume you just asked… is that my breakfast?”

Win finally peeks from behind his shoulder. 

“Yes. And that looks good. When did you learn that? How did you learn that?” he adds with a smirk.

“Hey.”

The younger man’s laughter fills the kitchen like little bursts of sunrays, slowly blanketing the large space with a light that seems to glow brighter every second. 

“I’ll make you a cup of coffee,” Win says as he removes his arms around Bright.

Bright won’t have it of course, because he’s clingy like that. 

He twists his body around & catches Win just as the younger man is about to take a step towards the espresso machine.

“Wha–”

Bright pulls Win towards him, locking his arms around his waist this time. 

His face is an inch away from the other, allowing him to give Win a swift gesture of affection – a nose kiss. 

“Hi.”

Win grins, his eyes closing a brief second as Bright’s lips linger on his nose.

“Hi. You’re in a good mood.”

Bright shrugs. “I am.”  Why shouldn’t he be?

He’s yours now. 

Bright smiles as he remembers the words of the one who used to own Win’s heart. It must have been difficult for Thyme to say that.

“I kind of really love you, Metawin.”

Win chuckles, but responds back. 

“I kind of really love you too, Chiva-aree.”

Bright watches the younger man expertly make coffee for the two of them, his heart taking in the sight with a contentment he hasn’t felt for a long time now. 

He promises that he will take care of Win for as long as he can.

He knows it will be difficult. And they have yet to talk about a lot of things.

But Bright’s pretty confident they can do it.

As long as they’re together.

He will not allow this damned world of theirs to snatch this one happiness that he has finally allowed himself to have.

Not anymore.

Yes, Thyme. He’s mine now.

End.

Published by katrinasaba

Author, writer, dreamer

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