ALL IS WELL (ROMANCE – BW AU)
AN: A little sequel to I’m Sorry. Just to let you know that well, all is well.
Disclaimer: This story is inspired by real-life people, but any circumstances similar to real-life situations are purely coincidental.
—000—
Win
He knows he shouldn’t, but Win secretly smiles at the pout on his daughter’s lips.
Claire’s lower lip is jutted out and probably keeps getting longer every time Win glances at her, but he thinks it’s cute. It’s obvious that she wants to cry, but she is trying hard not to. She always tells him and Bright that she will be as strong as Papa and as brave as Dada.
Brave. The little girl hasn’t forgotten what happened a couple of years ago, and when she’s finally older enough to understand and ask about it, Bright has explained it to her.
She has always called Win brave ever since. Win thinks he doesn’t deserve it, but Bright tells him that if he wasn’t as brave as Claire thought him to be, they wouldn’t be this happy right now.
Speaking of happy—Claire isn’t very happy right now. Their daughter has developed a love for football because of her parents, so they’ve enrolled her in a football camp. She loves it and has always been eager to attend training, always going home with a smile on her face and stories about her day.
Today, she has no smile on her face and has no story to tell. Her team lost at football today. While no one from her team is blaming her, she thinks it’s her fault for not being able to kick the ball that would have saved their team.
Win glances at the clock. It’s almost 7. Bright promises he will be home before 7. Bright is the busier father this month because he’s finishing four songs for Win. It’s now in the recording phase so he has to go to the studio to do it.
Win on the other hand has learned to balance his work, and has a more flexible schedule now courtesy of Off. He might have lost brand deals when he left a couple of years ago, but more came after that—this time, brands with advocacies led the line. So Win has been able to choose his own projects and endorsements.
It wasn’t exactly easy when he came out with the truth that day, with some of his so-called fans turning out to be homophobic, but the real ones stayed and kept supporting him since.
They have personally met Bright and Claire as well, and have been very open in declaring full-pledge protection, whether online or in person.
Win couldn’t be happier and more content. While he has always appreciated every affection from his fans, he’d rather lose some of them who can’t accept Bright and Claire’s existence in his life. Family comes first to him now, and Bright and Claire are his family.
“Claire,” Win gently calls.
Claire looks up from the television and stares at him. “Dada?”
“Papa will be home in a bit,” he says. Win finds himself smiling at the mention of his husband. Bright has never changed. He is still that man who’ll protect his family fiercely. Win’s glad he has found a best friend and a romantic love in one fine man. He and Bright are soulmates and will remain as that forever. No one or nothing could have stopped them anyway. They only ever needed to catch each other’s eyes to ignite destiny.
As if on cue, Win hears the beep of the front door unlocking. Claire hears it too because she immediately wipes her eyes and tries to mask her face, making her expression look fierce, too fierce if someone asks her Dada.
“Love, I’m home! Baby Girl, Papa’s here!” Bright’s voice announces his arrival before he even steps into their view.
“In here,” Win calls back. He smiles as he sees Bright enter his line of vision. He looks so tired, his half-ponytailed hair has tendrils that have come loose. His eye bags can also give Win’s eyebags on shooting days a run for his money.
But he is still wearing a smile for him and Claire. And Win will always marvel at the fact that this handsome man is his and Claire’s.
Bright catches his eyes first. His smile widens as he walks towards Win, embracing his lithe frame from behind, and holding him tight as if they haven’t seen each other for a while. Win holds the arms that embrace his waist and closes his eyes, taking in the wonderful smell and warmth of Bright.
The long embrace after a long day at work is a routine. A form of catharsis for the long-time lovers. It takes away every negative emotion a stressful day has given them.
The embrace is a simple pleasure they never deny each other even during those times they have misunderstandings. Win will always offer Bright an embrace, temporarily forgetting what they are fighting about; and then just continue with it after they both get their dose of lifeline.
It relaxes them both, allowing them to deal with everything and anything. It might just be a few seconds of hug, but it’s everything for them.
“Love you,” Win hears Bright whisper before he feels his lips on the side of his neck.
“I love you,” Win whispers back and hugs him tighter for a few seconds before disentangling from his warm arms. He turns around and meets Bright’s beautiful doe eyes again. “Love,” he says as he casually fixes the collar of Bright’s dress shirt. He subtly glances at the small form of their daughter who’s sitting too rigidly in his opinion before staring back at his husband’s amused eyes. “She is waiting for you. She wouldn’t cry for me, but she would for you. She needed to let that emotion out. I do hope you know that she gets that stubbornness from you.”
Bright chuckles and leans forward to rub his nose against his—a habit he had developed since they were literally just bros. He has always found Win’s nose perfect, and he always makes sure to show him just how much.
“I’m on it,” Bright whispers confidently, making Win chuckle. Bright steals a kiss from his lips before he turns and makes his way to their daughter.
Win crosses his arms and watches the scene unfold in front of him.
—000—
Bright
She is so obvious, Bright thinks as he takes a few seconds to stare at their cute daughter. Claire has grown in two years in terms of character, but she’s still almost the same physically. Round cheeks that are red as tomatoes and a porcelain skin that matches Win’s. She might not be biologically theirs, but honestly, she looks like a perfect mix of him and Win. If only one of them can bear a child, Bright thinks their biological offspring will look like Claire.
Not that it matters. Claire will always be theirs. In fact, Win and he are thinking of having two more kids through surrogacy in the near future. But that will never take away the fact that Claire is their first-born.
Claire, their little angel, is currently acting out of character.
The little girl has always preferred reading books or listening to music, which he probably thinks is his influencer. So whenever she watches a show, it means she is trying to distract herself from something.
Bright slowly sits beside her and pulls her closer towards him. Claire seems to not want to look at him, but she surrenders to his Papa’s embrace.
“Baby,” he greets. “How is my beautiful daughter this evening? I told you, Uncle Off does the most ridiculous things on television. You shouldn’t be seeing these things.” Off, after all, used to be a celebrity. But he had gotten tired of being in the spotlight and decided to become the manager of one of his friends, who’s Win. He still occasionally does guesting though.
True enough, Off is on TV, doing a challenge with another local celebrity. He is trying to eat something gross and is making the most ridiculous facial expressions. Usually, Claire will laugh at Off’s quirks, but tonight, it seems even he won’t do.
“This is bad,” Bright thinks. He shakes his head and stares at their daughter. Claire remains silent and Bright sees her lips quiver. She is also still refusing to look at him.
Bright meets Win’s eyes. The younger man nods at him. Bright winks, subtly reassuring his husband that he got this.
It makes Win giggle, his already small eyes turning smaller at the action. And it sends warmth toward Bright.
“I’ll give you privacy,” Win mouths. Bright watches as he turns away and makes his way to their kitchen. Bright temporarily ends up in a trance. Win is beautiful, and he just gets more beautiful as he ages.
I’m a lucky bastard, he thinks before bringing his attention back to their daughter, still silently thanking the gods for bringing Win into his life.
He sighs contently before patting his daughter’s shoulder. “Claire, can you look at Papa please?” he asks softly. Claire does it out of being polite, but she has barely turned her head.
Utterly stubborn, Bright thinks, and wonders if she truly got this from him. After all, this tiny gesture reminds Bright of his husband whenever they’re having a little spat. Win can go for hours not talking to him.
Bright kisses his daughter on top of her head and slowly turns her so she can face him. “What’s wrong, Baby?” he asks. At first, there’s no response. But Bright waits.
And then—his gentle voice seems to have been what Claire needs because just a minute later, she finally reacts.
And breaks down.
The little girl starts speaking and starts crying at the same time. “We lost at football today, Papa,” she says, her chest heaving as she continues to bawl her little innocent heart out. But Bright doesn’t stop her. She needs this. He and Win don’t want her to think that crying is bad and is a sign of weakness. They want her to understand that it’s okay to cry instead of keeping her emotions all to herself.
It’s never a good practice for the heart.
So Bright listens to her explain what happened without telling her to stop crying.
From the corner of his eyes, he can see Win watching them. But the younger man doesn’t make any move to join them.
This is another thing they had talked about after that incident years ago. They want Claire to know that both of her fathers are always there for him, hence they make sure that the three of them always spend time together.
But they also want to give her solo bonding moments with just one of them to strengthen their bonds with her individually. So they agree that whenever Claire needs to talk to one father, the other won’t interfere unless necessary.
Today is one of those moments.
“Claire—” Bright starts again when he thinks Claire’s calm enough.
“Papa…” she sniffs. “I’m sorry that Claire isn’t able to win the game. I dedicated the game to you and Dada. I told my coach the game is for you and I will win it for you. And I… didn’t.”
And finally, Claire jumps at her Papa and buries her face in his chest. Bright smiles and embraces his daughter tightly.
“Never feel sorry for the things that you tried your best at, Baby Girl. Papa is very proud of you and so is Dada. Losing is a part of life, Love. And that is okay. I know it’s difficult to accept, but always remember that it’s okay to lose as long as you know how to get up and fight again when you feel like you can. And you can take your time, okay, Baby Girl?”
But Claire continues to cry silently. And Bright simply allows her because sometimes, a good cry is all that’s needed to feel better.
He remembers the times Win used to come to his apartment after a really stressful day at a shoot and just cried on Bright’s shoulders without telling him why. The stress of being a most sought-after artist often got to him. And even though he looked like he enjoyed it all the time, he didn’t.
Bright was just his friend then. Win had no idea he loved him. Bright was just always there whenever Win needed him, but he was really just a bro back then. Nothing more.
Bright had loved him in silence. Win had never heard the longing of his heart until he almost lost Bright. Bright had almost given up and had started giving himself boundaries so he wouldn’t cross the line with Win.
And Win—well, it made him realize that the emotional distance from Bright was something he couldn’t take. It started opening his eyes and his heart. And when he finally realized what Bright had been showing him all along, he made sure to let him know.
And then he started chasing after Bright this time. And the rest was history.
Claire falls asleep in his father’s arms. And he can’t help but feel his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-streaked face.
A few minutes later, Win finally joins them and leans against his husband’s side, handing him a glass of wine. Bright loves to have a relaxing sip whenever he arrives home from a tiring workday.
“Thank you, Love,” he says with a grin. “She is really sad, isn’t she?”
Win lays his head on Bright’s shoulder. “Her Papa is a good football player. She thought she didn’t measure to your standards.”
Bright puts the glass down and wraps an arm around Win’s shoulder. “My heart was breaking, but I was trying not to let it consume me. We should tell her all the time that as long as she does her best, we will be proud of her. I don’t want her to experience what other kids experience. I just want her to be happy about doing the things she loves.”
Win places a kiss on his clothed shoulder. “She is a lucky girl to have you as her Papa, Bright. And I couldn’t be luckier. Thank you for choosing me, still choosing me after everything.”
“And here I thought I am the luckiest man alive for having you love me. Off actually keeps rubbing it into my face that I’m the luckiest bastard after him.”
Win laughs. Of course, he knows Off will say that. He is Gunnie-whipped.
“Do you remember the first time we brought her home?” Win asks as he nuzzles his face on Bright’s neck. “You were so scared and excited and… you couldn’t take your eyes off her.”
“I couldn’t help it, okay? She was so beautiful. Not that it changed. But seeing her just… she took my breath away.”
Win nods. “She’s the most precious thing. I have never imagined I could love someone more than you.”
“HEY!”
Win laughs. And it sounds like music to Bright’s ears.
“Come on,” Win says. “Give her to me so I can bring her to her room and you can eat your dinner and we can go to bed early.” Then he adds, “… and then I can eat you.”
Bright blushes. “WIN!”
“Ssssshhh. Little ears,” Win admonishes as he carefully extracts Claire from Bright’s arms. Once secure in his arms, he pecks Bright’s lips. “I’ll be waiting.”
“Win! I swear to—”
But once again, Win just laughs. Bright swears his husband is going to be the death of him one day.
But Bright’s not one to disobey a direct order.
So he’ll eat his dinner like the good boy that he is and come to bed early to have his dessert.
Or rather for Win to have his dessert.
Sounds like a good plan.
Oh yes. All is well in their family life. And Bright plans to let it stay that way.
##
BLOOD CALL, An Outtake from Blood (DARK ROMANCE – BW AU)
AN: This is an outtake from my mafia series AU on A03 called BLOOD.
—000—
Bright (Viper)
A murderer.
He knew his fate was sealed the moment Blue Krait announced that this assignment would be Viper’s first.
Bright was Viper. And he’s going to have his first kill as a snake. His first intended kill. He wasn’t going to take a life because he needed to survive, he was going to take someone’s life because he was tasked to.
The assignment was easy—make sure the senator would forever stop from sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. The power figure has been such a pain in Coral’s turf, threatening the exposure of the Colubra Family’s business in the area, going so far as to threaten to frame the drug operations on the Family.
Colubra blood loathed threats. Revenge became twice as ruthless when the threat was the basis for the retaliation.
Twice as ruthless. The Colubra would send the most ruthless retaliation the Family could offer— their assassins.
Bright finally pulled himself together upon hearing his first task, he had cast a look at his companions and had suddenly felt a strange kind of belongingness.
In their eyes, he saw sympathy. Deep inside their cold, uncaring hearts, they understood how he felt at least during that particular moment when he needed some sort of reassurance.
It made him feel better.
The journey to the execution place wasn’t the typical arrangement.
Generally, the assassins preferred to work alone, save the Black Mamba who’s always with Blue Krait. However this time, all members of the Death 6 came with him, riding in pairs behind him and the Black Mamba in two black Ducatis.
That had been another surprise—the Black Mamba riding with him. He never rode with anyone, even with Blue Krait. But he didn’t dare question Blue Krait when he had quietly asked Bright to get in behind Black Mamba.
Contradictory to what he had expected to feel, Bright felt more relaxed. There was surprisingly some sort of strength and calmness gradually pouring through him just by touching the Black Mamba. Getting that close to the Family’s most ruthless assassin, holding on to his waist as he drove his Kawasaki Ninja to the destination, had made him feel relieved and comfortable in the oddest of ways.
The cold air helped as well.
When they finally arrived at the scene, the fear he felt was surprisingly replaced by an emotion he didn’t expect to feel when he was ordered to take a life.
Excitement. Gone was the fear and anxiety. They were replaced by a much more positive emotion.
The excitement suddenly enveloped him, pouring through him in waves, drowning him in an unmistakable pleasure, as if killing was the one moment he’d been waiting for all his life.
Was this how each of them felt? Every time they went on a mission?
The senator’s mansion was heavily guarded as expected, cameras and guards alike were everywhere.
They weren’t a problem for Death 6. They never were.
The moment the Colubra assassins entered the grounds through a high wall, Copperhead had killed all the guards with his favorite Glock 17, its silencer muffling any noise that could’ve alerted the senator’s higher guards. The higher guards were skilled gunmen, known to follow the senator anywhere to protect him. They didn’t sleep, always guarding the senator and his family even when they slept at night.
They stood no chance against Death 6.
Garter immediately sensed the first two who were hiding behind windows. She managed to shoot them before Bright could even blink. Copperhead took care of the next ones, his sarcastic grin wide on his face as his victims fell one by one in fast succession.
Soon, there was an exchange of silent shots between the two groups of professional killers.
And Bright—he was in awe.
Regardless of his nerves, he couldn’t help but admire his fellow assassins. If there was such a thing as teamwork among killers, he had just witnessed it.
Leading the group, Garter and Copperhead served as the front armors, walking calmly but shooting anyone in sight. Garter’s shots were more calm, calculated. Copperhead’s were aggressive but he never missed.
Blue Krait and Ball brought up the rear end, ready to help when needed. They took care of anyone who might emerge from behind.
Bright was at the center, walking alongside Black Mamba. But while Bright’s eyes were everywhere, looking at any possible stray bullets, Black Mamba, with his eyes solely in front, was strutting calmly, almost bored, as if they’re taking a stroll in a park instead of walking in dangerous grounds.
Trust, Blue Krait had once said to him. They do attack each other playfully once in a while, with real guns and knives (much to Bright’s horror), but during missions, they always had each other’s backs.
Always.
Ironically, trust has been the foundation for the seemingly indestructible Death 5, now 6.
Bright finally understood what kind of trust Blue Krait had meant during that moment when they had entered the senator’s courtyard.
Regarded as the best, Black Mamba didn’t even pull his gun out of its holster, knowing that the two assassins in front of the unusual squad would never get him killed unnecessarily.
Bright didn’t know what Garter and Copperhead felt regarding the display of trust the Black Mamba had shown, but he knew that they had the same trust in their leader.
That trust was manifested that same moment when the Black Mamba shot a higher guard, who was unseen by the other five, right before they reached the stone steps leading to the double doors of the mansion. Bright realized that they did not only trust the Black Mamba to kill missed and unseen foes—they trusted him with their lives and he would always protect that trust.
The group had reached the mansion’s double doors without so much. The assassins separated when they got inside the house. Garter, Ball, and Copperhead left to make sure that no unwanted eyes lived to see the daylight. They still needed to be discreet after all. If a witness lived, it would be doom and gloom. King Cobra wouldn’t want unnecessary probing from the authorities.
Bright knew the massacre outside couldn’t have woken up anyone else. As brutal as the exchange of shots might’ve been, both sets of modern warriors had used silencers on their guns—a fact that Blue Krait had researched about or else they would have been more discreet in their attack. Bright suspected that the Black Mamba’s right hand even knew what type of guns the higher guards were using and who had sold it to them.
By the time they reached the senator’s bedroom, Bright’s excitement had grown out of proportion much to his disgust. He went inside, followed by the Black Mamba, while Blue Krait waited outside.
The senator was deeply asleep. He looked untroubled and content with no trace of a looming nightmare. He had learned from Blue Krait that the senator and his overbearing wife had recently divorced, taking away one of the senator’s problems—a nagging spouse. Bright thought it was probably the reason why the senator seemed so peaceful in his sleep.
So he wasted no time.
Invading the floor in a soft, quick stride, he reached the bed of the authority figure. Without so much as a blink of an eye, he locked an arm around the senator’s neck, instantly waking him up.
Senator Phawat was a huge man, but his strength was nothing against the Death 6’s newest member. Bright swiftly slid the dagger across the senator’s neck, the blade sliding smoothly along the skin, cutting his throat effortlessly.
Bright closed his eyes in the process, a temporary moment of weakness. He heard the gasp, then the gurgling, then finally the last breath, before he felt the body convulse.
Senator Phawat was gone just like that.
Bright opened his eyes and immediately sought the Black Mamba’s eyes. He wanted to see his reaction. He needed to see his reaction.
For a brief second, Bright had seen something in the leader’s usually guarded eyes—pride—before they were back to their usual cold expression.
And then without another word, the assassin turned on his feet and started walking away from the scene. Bright followed his back with his gaze as he left the room.
It was a job well done, the simple gesture had said. Bright didn’t know whether to smile or cry at the irony of it being a job well done when he had to take a life.
His first real kill. It hadn’t completely sunk in yet, but it was his first real kill.
Bright gazed at the lifeless body in front of him. He had never killed on purpose. While he had killed his fellow participants during the battle royale, it was because he needed to not because he wanted to. He was a survivor and he needed to survive. He needed to take another’s life because his life had been at stake.
This kill was different. He needed to want it. He needed to force himself to want to end the senator’s life otherwise he couldn’t do it. And he needed to do it. The consequence of failing wasn’t worth it.
It could be torture.
Or death.
Bight knew he would die if he failed a mission—whether it be a slit on the throat or a bullet to the heart or brain—and in the hands of his fellow assassins. No member of Death 5, now 6, had failed any mission. The assassins trained for precision—they couldn’t fail. They were not allowed to fail. Failure equated to shame. Shame equated to death. Failure to execute a mission was unforgivable.
At least in the handbook of the Colubra Family.
Bright knelt down beside the bed, pulled his dagger from the almost severed neck, and closed the eyes of the senator. He whispered a prayer for the peace of the senator’s soul before getting to his feet. He wasn’t an overly religious guy, but he believed in the existence of a heavenly being. He knew a divinity would save the souls of those he…they had mercilessly murdered tonight.
After one last look at the body, he followed his fellow assassins to the blackness of the night.
—000—
Death 6
The group of cold-blooded killers decided to stop at a rocky terrain a few miles away from headquarters.
The view from their resting place was picturesque, a peaceful painting of subtle emotions. It was overlooking the city, the city that was surrounded by a hodgepodge of brightly colored lights.
It was a flawless yet satirical epilogue to a tragic ending.
Bright was standing at the edge of a cliff, his gaze far away.
It felt strange. Yes, he knew he had finally killed someone with the intent to kill, but the reality behind those words hadn’t sunk in yet. He felt numb. Cold. Uncaring. Soulless. He wondered if these feelings would backfire when he was in his room and finally had the quiet environment suited for reflection.
He’d find out later.
“You did well.”
Bright closed his eyes and didn’t look back at the owner of the voice. The relief he felt when he heard it though—it was something he had yet to look into.
“There’ll be more like this from now on, Viper,” the Black Mamba said. “Today was a test. If you did not survive it, it meant you didn’t belong beside me.”
Bright wanted to laugh. So he did. He also didn’t know where he found the confidence to do so, but he snatched the other man’s hand from the front and intertwined their fingers together.
His senses and reflexes really did improve. He did this with his eyes closed.
“Let go of my hands,” came the cool reply from the Black Mamba. “You know I can kill you in an instant, Viper.”
“But you won’t,” Bright replied, finally opening his eyes. He gazed straight at the eyes of the deadliest killer he had ever known.
He received no reply, but Bright already knew. He leaned in to kiss the Black Mamba. To his relief, the kiss was answered without hesitations.
He’d savor this peace for now.
With this demon by his side.
—
“He is taking this better than I thought he would,” Blue Krait declared, sounding amused at the sight in front of them. He was addressing no one in particular.
He was sitting in the space between Copperhead and Garter, the three of them sprawled under a protruding tree from the rocky walls. Ball was sleeping a few feet away from them.
Their eyes were all on the newbie, who seemed to be taking it more calmly than how they expected him to.
Garter, whose head was resting on the Copperhead’s left shoulder, hummed her agreement.
“I actually thought he would break down. I was expecting a scene. Ball was ready to pacify him. I saw him pocketing an extra shot.” They always carried a death shot whenever they were on missions. They’re small injections with lethal poison that dissolve the organs in less than three minutes. It’s their way out if they’re captured.
If.
Blue Krait chuckled humorlessly. “Well, this one keeps on surprising us.”
Garter turned her head slightly to face him. “We’re Death live in the flesh, Blue Krait. We live a monotonous dark life. I don’t mind surprises.”
“It’s because Black Mamba likes him,” Copperhead scoffs. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? They’re banging each other!”
They suddenly heard a shot, but Copperhead managed to evade it. They all grinned at the cold expression on the Black Mamba’s face who was the one who
“It’s true!” Copperhead shouted. “You can shoot all you want, but it’s true! You’re banging him!”
Black Mamba fired another shot. And another. Until he didn’t.
Because Viper had held his free hand as well.
“SEE!”
But they could see how Viper gently forced their usually stubborn leader to face the other way.
“You don’t value your life, do you?” Garter asked Copperhead, who just shrugged.
“Things really just got more interesting with the greenhorn,” he admitted. “Boss is less rigid. It irritates me that he seems to have developed a soul suddenly, but—I don’t hate it.”
It was his way of saying he liked Viper.
“I don’t have a great feeling about this though,” Copperhead added. “It was… too easy.”
The silence meant everyone agreed. It was too easy for King Cobra to surrender Viper to them. Usually, they expected more blood. But he didn’t ask for it.
King Cobra was blood. There would always be blood spilled whenever he was involved.
“I’m on it,” Blue Krait said. “But if you three can look out for unusual things, it’ll be better.”
“Got it.”
“We protect family,” Garter replied. “No one could hurt MY family as long as I’m alive to protect it.”
As if the Black Mamba sensed what they were talking about, he subtly inclined his head until they could see his expression. Viper had his eyes closed again, but he hadn’t let go of the Black Mamba’s hand.
He gave them a nod.
Death 6 was their family. And if they need to spill every drop of their blood to protect it, they would.
##
I’M SORRY (BW- AU)
Disclaimer: The characters are inspired by real-life people, but the story is mine. Anything similar to real-life circumstances is a coincidence.
—000—
BRIGHT
Bright glances between the clock and his daughter who keeps turning her head to stare at the hallway leading to the door. He saves the last edits he made on his husband’s next single and stands up from his station, his eyes not leaving his daughter’s dejected form.
Win is late. Again.
He understands. Of course, he does. When Bright decides to fall in love with Win five years ago, he knows this will happen.
His husband is one of the most sought-after idols in the entertainment industry. He’s 6ML’s top artist. He’s everyone’s first love, true love, and great love. It’s rare for him not to have any project because there’s a long line of shows and producers waiting for their turn.
Bright, who’s Win’s composer, knows that between them, he needs to be the one to make the sacrifice. Win can’t just fall off the face of the planet so suddenly.
So he did. Five years ago, Bright gave up his stable composer job to become a freelance composer. He still gets paid because Win is still as bankable as ever, but he no longer has that opportunity to compose songs for other artists.
No one knows Win is married to him. If he continues to work for 6ML, it’ll be impossible for Win to hide it.
And it’s fine with him. Falling in love with someone like Win has consequences. But it’s something he has been ready for.
But not for Claire, their daughter.
Their daughter doesn’t even realize how famous her other father is yet. All she knows is that her Dada plays different roles—he can be a singer, a dancer, an actor, a host, or even a newscaster. And that he’s being taken care of by Uncle Off.
Claire has no idea that Win holds the hearts of thousands of men and women across the world. And that if just one of them finds out he and Claire exist in his world, Win will break each of those hearts.
And his career will come to an end.
Yesterday, Win had promised Claire that he would be home just in time to read her a bedtime story. Their daughter will sleep in less than an hour and there is still no sign of the one who made the promise.
It’s not the first time it happened. Win breaking a promise to their daughter happens more frequently than he makes it.
“Claire?” Bright carefully asks. He will try to start mending his daughter’s heart even before it gets fully broken by another unfulfilled promise.
Then when Win comes home later, Bright will have to heal his heart for breaking his daughter’s.
Bright knows Win hates breaking a promise to either of them, and he always beats himself for it. But it can’t be helped. This is one of the things they already accepted when they decided to pursue this.
Still, it isn’t easy. It probably will never be until Win himself decides to leave the industry. And he can’t force his husband to do just that. He knows how much Win loves his job.
This is the role Bright will forever take for the two people who mean the most to him right now.
Claire slowly turns her adorable little head to face her Papa. “Yes, Papa?” she says in that small voice that tells Bright she is trying not to show him how sad she is that her Dada isn’t home yet.
Bright sits beside her on the couch and pulls his daughter to his side. He snatches the book from her hand and turns it upside down.
“Dada will be home soon,” he says in a gentle voice he only ever uses for Win or Claire. “He probably has been caught up at work. We know how scary Dada’s bosses are, right?”
It makes Claire smile. “Uncle Off calls their bosses angry dragons and Uncle Gunnie always hits him in the back of the head.”
Bright doesn’t know whether to laugh or get frustrated at this, but he chooses to let it go. It isn’t exactly… bad… anyway. Off sure deserves that hit, but at least the thought of Gunnie hitting him makes Claire smile.
“Yes… so… erm… Dada needs to be very careful not to anger them. I am sure he will be home very soon and he will be right on time to read you a story before you go to bed.”
Win hasn’t texted or called, which means his phone isn’t with him yet. He must have been in a meeting. Bright knows that he has a couple of those today; and the last one is for a new drama role he will be filming this summer, which will be released in autumn.
Win always calls or sends a message whenever something comes up. He never likes worrying Bright.
“But—” This is it, Bright thinks. “If… if Dada cannot get away from the dragons early—will it be okay for Papa to read you that story instead of him?”
Claire’s lips quiver, but the little girl nods. She looks so much like a perfect mix of him and Win even though she came from neither of them. “Okay…. Okay, Papa.”
Bright’s heart breaks at the soft reply. He places a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. “Dada will make it up to you, Baby. But we need Dada safe too, right? We don’t want him to catch fire on his clothes. Dada needs to be handsome all the time and he won’t be handsome with burnt clothes.”
Bright feels relieved when Claire finally giggles. “Okay, Papa. We don’t want that. Dada needs to have cool clothes or he will become a Pauper and Prince Off will laugh at him from the castle.”
Okay. He really has to have a talk with Off soon. What the heck does that idiot keep telling Claire when he babysits her?
“All right,” Bright declares as Claire rests her head on his chest. “Let’s read this first and Dada can read you the next one when he arrives, yes?”
Claire nods and starts listening to Bright narrate the story of the girl who goes to Wonderland.
Win needs to arrive soon. Bright doesn’t know how many lates Claire can take.
—000—
“I’m sorry, I’m late.”
Bright hears the deepest regret in Win’s voice. He doesn’t hear him come in because he is too busy listening to their sleeping daughter’s broken heart and singing to her until she falls asleep.
Bright feels the bed dip from behind him before he feels strong and lean arms wrap around his waist. It’s usually the other way around. While Win is taller, Bright is broader, and it’s easier for him to take the role of the big spoon.
But not tonight. With the way Win’s hands are trembling as he intertwines their fingers, he knows his husband isn’t ready to face him yet.
Or their daughter for that matter.
So Bright doesn’t say anything and just allows Win to bury his face on his back. They stay in that position for a few minutes before the younger finally speaks.
“Love, I’m sorry,” Bright feels him whisper. “I’m so sorry, Bright.”
Bright sighs and carefully turns on his side so he can finally face his beautiful husband. Win looks so heartbroken and he looks so tired. His eyes are glassy as he meets Bright’s gaze.
“Hi,” Win whispers. The younger leans in to place the softest kiss on Bright’s lips. What can he do but reciprocate it? Bright loves kissing Win. He will always love kissing him.
“Have you eaten?” Bright asks when he lets go of Win’s lips. “I can heat up your dinner for you.”
Win shakes his head and buries his face on Bright’s neck. “I ate at the meeting. We were held up. My co-star didn’t like the script and demanded a few changes. Ah. We will change half of the script for her.”
“Who is it this time again?” He never asks Win about his co-stars nor does he watch television nowadays. He’s too busy working at home and looking after Claire he doesn’t have time to catch up with what’s happening.
And Win usually tells him anyway. But today’s his first meeting with the new production team, and his first time getting introduced to his new leading lady.
“Lolita.” She is one of the most sought-after actresses today. Win has worked with her in the past for a music video and a movie. Their love team has created a wide fanbase, but not wide enough to give them consistent projects together.
Bright sighs. These women do not deserve his husband as their love interest. “Want me to tell Off to put laxatives in her drink?”
Win chuckles. Finally. “She isn’t worth it.” Then in a more serious tone, he adds: “And I wish I could just have left the meeting so I could finally fulfill a promise to our daughter.” He reaches a hand to stroke their daughter’s cheek.
“How long did she try to wait for me?”
Bright smiles sadly. “She held on for an hour.”
“Damn it.”
“Vocabulary, love.”
“I’m sorry.”
Bright strokes Win’s cheek. He really is so beautiful. “I can’t say it’s not bad, because it is. But I think all we need to do for now is to allow her to understand slowly so that she will not bear a grudge against you. It isn’t any of our fault. We… we had been ready for this, but we both know it would be different with her.”
Win doesn’t respond and instead leans over Bright so he can kiss their daughter’s forehead. Bright can hear him apologizing all over again.
“Before the filming starts, I will take a week off,” Win declares with resolve as he leans away so he’s facing Bright again. “No promises, but I will try my best to pull it off. They will have me all to themselves for three months. A full week with my husband and daughter is nothing compared to that. I will make sure Mr. Footuh gives me that break.”
“The gremlin will fire you.”
“Now that I have a reason to live? Then let him,” Win says without hesitation. Bright loves the fire in Win’s eyes. “My work was my only life a few years ago. But it’s different now. I am not afraid anymore. It isn’t worth it.”
“You don’t need to do that,” Bright replies, pulling Win closer. This time, he wraps his arms around him.
But Win simply smiles. “Bright, I will do anything and everything for you and Claire. I wasn’t ready before, but I am now. If Mr. Footuh threatens to fire me then so be it.”
Bright exhales a breath he has been holding and kisses Win’s forehead. “We’ll manage if he does that. You know, we will.”
“We will. You and Claire are the most important blessings I have. My job is now secondary. It doesn’t even come close. So tomorrow, I will go directly to him and ask for that vacation.”
“I really love you so much, Win.”
“I love you. I love you both so much.”
“Dada?”
Win stiffens in Bright’s arms but immediately recovers. The younger lifts his body up just in time to see Claire blinking the sleepiness in her eyes.
Win gently removes himself from Bright’s arms before standing up so he can walk to the other side of their daughter’s bed. He lays down beside her and places a kiss on her forehead.
“Hello, Baby.”
Claire stares at her Dada before smiling, melting both of her parents’ hearts.
“Dada, you’re home.”
“I’m home.”
“Did you defeat the dragons, Dada?”
He hears Bright snicker, which tells him this is probably Off’s fault. Oh yes. Every stupid story is Off’s fault.
“Yes. Dada defeated the dragons so he can finally come home to his King and his little Princess,” Win responds before blowing a raspberry in Claire’s pajama-clad stomach. The little girl giggles and reaches out her arms towards him. Win gladly allows himself to be enclosed in such tiny arms.
“I love you, Baby Girl,” he whispers. “Dada is sorry that he’s late.”
“It’s okay, Dada,” Claire replies. “It’s not your fault. I love Dada too. This big!” she exclaims as she lets go of her Dada to stretch out her tiny arms. Win laughs and embraces her once more.
“Dada, will you read Claire a story now?”
Win nods and turns towards him. Bright casually hands him the book.
“Start the story now, Dada, please,” Bright says with amusement. He’s not going to let this be easy for Win. “We’re listening. Also, with the sound effects please.”
Win glares at him, but Bright simply returns it with a pointed look. He feels smug when he hears his husband whisper, damn it.
“Fine.”
With Claire’s squeals of glee, Win really can’t say no anyway.
For the next few hours, Claire’s room is filled with sounds of fire-breathing dragons and princes.
And as Bright watches his husband and daughter laugh together, he wishes for more moments like this.
Tomorrow, they will share Win again with the world.
But at least for tonight, Win is theirs.
He’s not selfish, but the universe knows how badly he wants to be.
—000—
Selfish.
Bright stopped being selfish when Win fell in love with him. And when Claire arrived in their lives, he just felt like he had everything. As long as he’d stay with his husband and daughter for a long time, he’d be content.
But this—this isn’t what he has in mind.
“Bright—I’m so sorry,” Off says, his friend’s eyes begging him to understand. But how can he when Claire hasn’t stopped crying? The little girl won’t even allow anyone to touch her. She just wants to be in his Papa’s arms and stay there. It’s as if she knows it’s the only place in the world right now where she’s welcomed wholeheartedly.
“It’s not your fault, Off,” Bright replies bitterly. “This is all on him.”
“Bright—”
Bright smiles at Off, and he sees his friend wince. He would have lashed out, but the crying little girl in his arms was preventing him from doing so.
“Off, you know I never asked for anything. I never demanded anything. But this—this is too much. For years I accepted everything because I understood. But that—that, I will never understand.”
“Bright—please, you two should talk about this okay?” Off says, his tone desperate. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to.
“He had a choice, Off,” Bright replies. “I only ever wished for him to do one thing when such a circumstance happened. And I trusted that he would. But he didn’t.”
Off is panicking. “Bright—please. Win will be here soon. He and Lolita are just talking to the press. Gunnie will bring him here in a bit.”
But Bright shakes his head. “We’re not staying for a minute more, Off. As you can see, my daughter needs to get away from here as soon as possible.”
At the mention of his daughter, Off isn’t able to reply. His friend knows that there’s no compromise when it comes to their daughter.
Good, Bright thinks. He gives his friend one last nod before he walks away with the little girl. Claire is calmer, but she’s still sniffing and won’t look up from Bright’s neck. They need to get out of here.
“At least let me bring you to your car,” Off says. “Please? Just for your safety. ”
Bright nods. Even though he’s not really in the mood for a companion, Claire’s safety will always come first. Off knows the protocols. He can lead them safely to his car.
Once there, his friend pats Claire’s head gently before nodding at him. Not one word comes out of his mouth.
It’s only when he gets inside the car after making sure Claire’s strapped to her cart seat does he hears Off speak.
“Fuck,” his friend says.
But Bright closes his car door without another word and zooms away. He never looks back even if it’s breaking his heart.
WIN
Win’s heart is breaking.
“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT?!”
He could hear Gunnie try to placate his boyfriend’s anger but to no avail. And Win knows he deserves that anger. Off isn’t reacting like his manager right now. The manager would have understood why he did what he did. The friend wouldn’t.
The effect of what he did gushes like a raging river after the red carpet event.
He was surprised. He was so surprised to see their daughter being carried by Gunnie at the front, just a foot away from the reporters, behind the red velvet stanchion rope.
But at first, he was filled with happiness. He really was. Until he realized where they were.
And then he panicked. Most especially when he saw Claire trying to reach for him and call for him, with Gunnie whispering something in her ears.
And as Win slowly reached the end of the red carpet, his anxiety doubled. He could see the reporters throwing strange looks at his daughter. He could see her mouthing Dada but Gunnie was shushing her gently.
So when the reporters were just within earshot and his daughter a full meter away, he acted on instinct.
Win hurriedly crossed the last steps and pushed Claire away. Not hard. Definitely not. Even unconsciously, he wouldn’t hurt his daughter.
But he… pushed her. He pushed her away.
And that was him denying her.
And the worst thing? It wasn’t her safety that was on Win’s mind at that time. He had pushed her to make sure she wouldn’t ruin his reputation.
Because he wasn’t ready. Not yet.
The last thing he saw was Gunnie’s shocked expression as well as the teary-eyed expression of their daughter before the reporters hounded him and Lolita.
He swore he could hear Claire cry, but the music and the reporters distracted him. After years of being in the business, his idol mode was automatically reactivated whenever he was in front of the press.
And right after, the gravity of what he had done hit him in full force. He left the theater before anyone could even stop him. He needed to come home and explain everything to their little girl and to his husband.
Fuck, he thought.
Bright had always been understanding. He knew what Win’s job entailed. Hence, between the two of them, it was Bright who had been hesitant to have kids. At least not yet. Because he knew it would be a difficult job, and he wasn’t sure if Win was ready to give up his career yet or at least half of it.
Still, Bright said yes. Because Win promised that he would make it work.
After just a few months of finally having Claire in their arms, Win broke a promise.
But Bright understood. Again. He took care of Claire, just asking Win to make sure he would still play a major role in their daughter’s life. And he tried. Hard. Because he was the one who wanted this badly.
The days were for his work, but the nights—Win made sure it was shared equally between Bright and Claire.
They made it work. Because Win promised he’d make it work with Bright.
And now here he was. He broke another promise.
“He’s—Bright’s not answering my call,” Win whispered, his voice trembling. Gunnie, who had been more understanding, patted his knee to calm him down.
Off sneered at him. Off never sneered at him before.
“What do you think? After what you did, he’d just welcome you with open arms?” Off asked. “Win—I was there when Bright was hesitating to adopt a baby because he knew you might not be ready. But you promised. You reassured him that when it came to the baby, there was no compromise. Claire would always come first.”
“Off—please—”
“No, Gunnie,” Off said. “I am not just his manager, I am also his friend. I am also Bright’s friend. And I am Claire’s godfather. I’ve been protecting this family for a long time. But how can I do that when Win himself is destroying it?”
“Off!”
“Off—” Win interferes. “You—you know what would have happened, right? If I.. acknowledged my daughter.”
“Yes, of course,” Off smiles coldly. “You’ll make your husband and daughter happy. And I think, yourself as well.”
Win pales at the remark.
“You know my thoughts about this, Win,” Off adds. “You know how they have changed in the past couple of years. I’ve seen how you’ve become miserable whenever you aren’t with your family.”
“Off, please—” Gunnie finally says.
But Off just shakes his head. “Please bring Win home, Love. Use his car. I’ll fetch you at the lobby of the building. I’ll have to take care of the press. Because apparently, after pushing his daughter away, this idiot left the venue without a word to find her, creating buzz among the press people because of such atrocious behavior.”
Without another word, he starts walking away. Though he pauses when he’s already by the door.
“Win, do you remember what Bright asked you to promise?”
Promise me that if that time comes when Claire is accidentally exposed, don’t ever deny her, Win. Come to her rescue. You can deny me all you want, but not her. I can understand, but she won’t. Don’t break your daughter’s heart, Win.
And Win had promised. AGAIN.
His silence must have been enough for Off because his manager just shakes his head, clearly disappointed in him.
“Win—come on. I’ll bring you home. You can’t drive in this state,” Gunnie says a few minutes later. Win doesn’t reply, but he allows the other to drag him to a small pathway leading to his car. There’s always a special passageway made for him, or else he’ll find himself hounded by fans.
The car ride is quiet. Gunnie, who usually has a lot to say since he’s not only Win’s friend but also Win’s manager’s boyfriend, just allows Win to wallow in his own self-pity.
They’re almost near his house when Win finally opens his mouth. He needs to ask. He has to.
“Gunnie? What happened? Why were you there?”
Gunnie sighs. “It’s my fault, Win, for not being able to say no to Claire.”
“It’s Bright’s fault for allowing it in the first place.”
“Don’t you dare blame your husband in this, Win!”
Win is shocked, to say the least. It’s not the reaction he’s expecting.
“Bright has NOTHING to do with it. He has always been careful, Win. He sacrificed a lot for you and your dreams, even to the point of setting aside his own. Don’t. You. Dare.”
Ouch. “Gun—”
“He and Off were talking about your next song so I volunteered to look after Claire,” Gunnie continues. “He must have told me to be careful a hundred times, but just one tiny request from the little tot and I couldn’t say no. It was MY fault, not Bright’s. Never his. He’ll never compromise you, Win. I thought you at least knew that.”
“I—” Of course, he does. Bright has been wonderful. It’s his ego talking. He wants to blame someone so the guilt won’t kill him. And he’s so used to Bright making the sacrifice he wants him to take this blame as well.
He is a fucking horrible human being and a husband who doesn’t deserve his husband.
“I’m sorry,” Win finally replies. He starts crying again.
Gunnie just shakes his head and doesn’t reply. He only speaks when they reach the apartment building. “We’re here. I’m dropping you off in the lobby. I’ll park this and wait at the reception for Off. They recognize me anyway. Go.”
They might still be there.
Win doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s out of the car even before Gunnie has parked it properly.
They just have to be there. They just have to be.
—000—
The house is empty.
Win has expected it, but he has still hoped otherwise. He knows Bright enough to understand that his husband is a flight-first-before-fight man. He doesn’t like confronting things or people while they’re still fresh.
He calls Off, but it only ends up in his friend’s voicemail.
Again, it’s Gunnie who finally pities him. He tells him to stay put in their home and that he will be the one to come up in a bit. It means the other guy is still in the lobby.
Gun arrives a few minutes later and sees Win sprawled on his couch staring at nothing.
He sighs and sits beside him.
“Hey,” he nudges Win, but he will not respond.
Gunnie sighs and goes to the kitchen. He comes back with cans of beer and hands Win one, which he wordlessly accepts.
It takes a few cans of Kirin before Win manages to speak. He is trembling.
“I didn’t mean to, Gunnie,” Win whispers, his hand automatically clutching at his chest. He has never known pain until now. There is this hollowness inside his chest that keeps getting bigger, refusing to stop until he is no longer whole.
“You didn’t, but you couldn’t take it back either.”
“Does Off—does he know where they are?”
Gunnie smiles sadly. “I can’t lie to you, Win, you know that. They’re at Bright’s hometown.” At Win’s panicked eyes, he adds, “Just for a week! And Bright will not tell his parents what happened. You know he isn’t like that.”
Win wraps his arms around himself. He really feels vulnerable right now.
“Everything will be fine, Win,” he hears Gunnie say. “Like how it always does.”
And Win fucking hopes it will.
—000—
Win’s Mom quietly serves her eldest son breakfast.
Win has been staying at the family house for a week now since his husband and daughter left for Bright’s hometown.
It was his mother who came and got him. It turned out Off had called her. While he wasn’t talking to his friend yet, he still cared.
When Win failed to go to work for a week, Off made sure he wasn’t bothered even by his management, most especially Mr. Footuh.
Win was aware he had lost a lot of weight. He’s not eating. He’s not sleeping. And he’s always by the phone, having caught his mother talking to Claire one night. But even before he could snatch the phone from her, it had been disconnected.
Bright never called again. Or maybe his parents and siblings had been more secretive about it. They loved Claire. And while it was difficult for them to accept Bright at first, they fell in love with the man as well. He was very patient. He didn’t force any connection with Win’s family. He just showed them how sincere he was and how much he loved and supported Win.
Bright thawed the icy hearts of his traditional family. It took him a whole year, but he was able to. And now—he knows his family is on Bright’s side. They don’t voice out their opinions, but missing Bright and Claire has been slipping from their mouths a lot recently.
“Just place the used dishes on the sink. I’ll take care of them in a bit,” Win’s mom says, breaking his thoughts. Everyone thinks his mom is too sophisticated for household chores, but little do they know she loves to clean a lot.
“Mom,” Win calls. There’s something so impersonal in his mom’s tone that finally makes Win talk.
He can see that she’s trying not to get swayed by the emotion in her son’s voice. But Win needs something on his side right now. Just one person who can try and understand him.
It used to be Bright, but Win has fucked that one up greatly.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” Win whispers. And perhaps it’s the desperation in his voice that makes his Mom go to him and embrace him. Win wraps his arms around his Mom’s stomach and quietly breaks down.
She doesn’t say anything. She just allows her son to cry as she embraces him.
In times like this, a mom’s silent understanding can always make things temporary better.
—000—
Better.
Win’s heart stops when he comes home and sees his husband, the handsome man he hasn’t seen in three whole weeks, with a bag in his hand.
“Bright…” he stupidly says, his heart a little too slow to catch up that yes, this is indeed his husband in front of him, dressed in his signature plain shirt and jeans, wearing his hair in that little half ponytail Win loves so much.
Bright is the first one to recover from the shock. He gives him a small smile that looks forced. It makes Win flinch.
“Sorry, I thought you would be filming until late at night. I just… got a few of Claire’s things. I’m… I’m going now,” Bright says and moves past him.
Win finds that he cannot move even though his brain is running a mile a minute. He’s panicking. He knows that if he allows Bright to leave now, he will never come back for a long time.
And that… that hurts more than anything else.
Win stops thinking. Fast as lightning, he turns around and runs towards Bright just in time to stop him from reaching for the knob.
“Bright… Love Please…” …don’t leave me. Don’t walk away from me.
Forcefully, he places himself between the door and his surprised husband before wrapping his arms around him.
God. He misses Bright so much. He can feel every fiber of his being getting alive with this man in his arms even though the hug isn’t being returned. It feels like it has been a long time since he’s able to feel this so much peace.
“I love you… Bright, I love you,” he whispers, his embrace on him tightening as he speaks the words. “I stopped making excuses for what I did. I was wrong and I was the worst father for doing that. If I could turn back time, I would have done so already, but I couldn’t.”
Bright still doesn’t respond.
“When I proposed to you, I had every intention to love you for the rest of my pathetic life, Bright. And when Claire came into our lives, that vow extended to her. That will never change. I’m sorry… I’m sorry that I hurt you and Claire. But I want you to know that my life is meaningless without you two and that everyone can go to hell for all I care. Love… please. If you can’t forgive me… at least believe that. Believe that… please. I am begging you… Please.”
Win continues to cling to Bright. He has no more tears left to shed, but he wants Bright to feel how sorry he is, and how he’ll go to hell first before he can repeat the same mistakes again.
“I love you… I love you so fucking much. Please…. please…”
Perhaps, it’s the sincerity in his voice that finally got through to his husband. Because after a brief moment of hesitation, Win feels it. Two larger arms wrapped themselves around his smaller frame.
Win clings tighter. Bright has to lead him to their couch because he won’t let go of the older man.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he keeps saying as pushes himself further into Bright’s embrace, refusing to move away from him. “I love you. Don’t leave me… please.”
Bright doesn’t respond, instead, he lifts Win’s chin and looks into his eyes. He must have seen what he wants to see because he dips his head and finally claims Win’s lips in a kiss.
And Win instantly responds, kissing Bright harder, as if he hasn’t had a taste of the older man for days.
Well… he hasn’t. And that thought alone fuels him more. He can’t lose him. He can’t lose them. He refuses to.
He will die if he does.
So in a painful combination of shattered promises and new beginnings, Win shows Bright just how much he is nothing without him.
And thankfully, Bright allows him.
—000—
Their post-passion cuddles are usually Bright holding him against his chest just keeping Win close.
But it’s different tonight.
Bright’s head is on Win’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. This is how Win wants it tonight. He wants Bright to hear that his heart’s only beating for him.
“I love you.”
Bright places a soft, lingering kiss on Win’s chest. It is a simple gesture, but it means everything.
I love you. I will always choose you.
As he feels Bright change their positions so he can envelop Win in his arms, the younger can’t help but wish that it’s still not too late for him to ask Claire for forgiveness.
—000—
Forgiveness.
“Do you think she will forgive me?” he asks quietly as they make their way towards his husband’s old apartment, where he and their daughter are currently staying.
Bright squeezes his hands. “It will be easier with her, Love. Claire was hurt. She thought you—hated her. Because you denied her. But—she’s a kid. She has a pure heart. She’ll forgive you.” He kisses Win’s forehead, allowing the younger to relax a little.
“Who’s inside?” Win asks.
“Just your mother, I promise,” Bright responds before pulling open the door. He has heard from his husband that his mom has been visiting her granddaughter every chance she gets. This is one of those times.
Though she has no idea Bright will be coming home with him.
Home. Win feels nostalgic as they enter the genkan. Bright’s apartment is big, but he was able to get it for half the price. It’s owned by the lady who used to think of him as her grandson. Bright got close to her because he was a regular customer in her coffee shop. Bright couldn’t sleep whenever he was composing a song, and her shop had been his creative nook.
Bright’s apartment used to be their secret sanctuary for a long time, which is why they didn’t even think of selling it. It was… decent but ordinary. No one would think a celebrity like him would stay here.
This used to be home for him. He could be who he was here. He could wake up all grumpy and disheveled, and with the worst morning breath ever and Bright wouldn’t care. He could wear his most tattered shirt and he’d never bat an eyelash.
“Papa? Is that you?”
Win’s thoughts stop along with his heart upon hearing that little voice he missed so much. Bright smiles at him reassuringly before releasing his hand so he can show himself to their daughter.
“Yes, Claire. It’s me,” he hears Bright say. “Were you good to Grandma?”
“Yes, Papa!” Claire giggles, instantly melting Win’s heart. “Claire loves Grandma so much!”
Win can hear his own mother laughing at what their daughter just uttered. Claire really is everyone’s little gem.
Win steps out of the shadows just as his mother looks up. Her mouth falls agape at the sight of him, but Win begs her to keep quiet.
She nods, but there is doubt in her eyes. It hurts him a little. But then again, this is his fault, isn’t it?
“Love…” Bright’s voice gets his attention. “Papa has something to ask you.”
Claire jumps from the perch on the couch to run towards her Papa “What is it, what is it, Papa?!”
Bright turns their daughter around before he stoops down to her level. “Baby?” he asks while cupping their daughter’s face between his hands. “Do you… miss Dada?”
Win isn’t able to breathe until he hears the small voice respond with a soft “yes”. The relief he feels is enough to last him a lifetime. Bright is right. Their daughter’s heart really is so pure.
“You do?” Bright sounds relieved, and Win is once again reminded about how lucky he is, and how miserable his life would be if fate hadn’t been kind to him.
It had been a close call.
Claire nods meekly. “I miss Dada, Papa. Is he… is he still angry at Claire? I just wanted to see him. I didn’t know it was bad to do that.
No, it wasn’t bad to do that, Win wants to say. It hurts that his daughter thinks what she did was bad. Damn it, Win. You asshole.
“Does he forgive Claire now?” Then she starts to sniffle. “Because Claire promises she would never do that again.” The little girl then turns around and jumps at Win’s mother to bury her tiny face on her lap, and cries. She cries so hard that every adult’s heart in that room cracks and shatters into pieces.
Win cannot take it anymore. He just cannot see his daughter break down like that. Never again.
Win finally takes another step until he can be clearly seen.
“Claire? Dada loves you so much. You did nothing wrong, Baby. It was Dada’s fault for being bad. But—I didn’t mean to. And Dada promises that it will never happen again. Dada loves you so much that it hurts you to think that way.”
They all witness as Claire freezes in Win’s mother’s arms before he slowly lifts her head to meet the eyes of her father.
Win gets down on his knees and slowly extends his arms towards his daughter.
“Claire, Baby, Dada is really sorry and he misses you. Can you ever forgive Dada?”
Claire continues to stare at him, her eyes wide.
“Claire? Baby Girl?” Win’s voice is trembling. “Love?”
It takes a few more heartbeats, but Claire finally snaps out of her shock and runs towards her father’s arms.
“Dada!” Claire keeps saying even as she cries. Win hugs her so tightly in his arms, assuring his daughter how much he loves her and how badly he misses her.
Even his usually cool mother is now openly crying at the sight.
When Bright joins the embrace, Win is enveloped in a warmth that he thought he would never feel again.
They’ll be okay.
From now on, Win will make sure that they will be.
So the next day, he calls Off and tells him to arrange a press conference for him even without the permission of the management.
And Win—he reveals it all. That he’s married. That he has a daughter.
And that he’s leaving 6ML.
Mr. Footuh receives an irrevocable resignation letter later that day on his table.
##
MELT HIS HEART (ROMANCE – BW AU)
Disclaimer: FICTION. Anything similar to a real-life circumstance is purely coincidental.
AN: This is actually SarawatTine. All rights of 2gether and its characters belong to JittiRain – I don’t earn from publishing this fanfiction on my site.
The plot and story of Melt His Heart belong to me. Please don’t post this anywhere without my permission.
—000—
Tyne’s dream has always been to own a dessert shop. He thinks that people deserve a touch of sweetness in their lives regardless of the bitterness life brings.
As a little boy, he had witnessed even the grumpiest people smile whenever they had a taste of the sweet products. So he promised himself that when he grew up, he’d have his dessert shop. He’d be one of those people whose goal would always be to bring a smile to the face of even the saddest person in the world.
20 years later, he makes his dream come true.
After graduating from law school, instead of running his own law firm, Tyne goes to Paris, enrolls in a pastry school, and comes home with a certificate. He then builds his dessert shop and turns his law degree into more of a side job. He doesn’t accept huge cases unless necessary and instead concentrates more on corporate consultancy.
Souri, his dessert shop, is built with his own money and effort. He got his inheritance from his parents when he turned 21 and decided to pour some of it into his shop. His parents were both supportive, as well as his older brother Kavin who’s now managing the family business. From the family side—he has never had any problems at all. They just want him to be happy. They always say he should make himself happy.
So Tyne does. He buys a house in a nice neighborhood and builds his shop next to it so it’s easy for him to manage the operations even with just a few staff. With the help of his two best friends (Gunnie owns a PR firm and Pippy’s an interior designer) who live in the same village, Tyne’s able to start his business with a bang.
Gunnie invites his influencer friends to promote the shop for free and attend the launch. And Pippy has done a great job making sure the interior of the shop is as perfect as its products.
In just 6 months, Tyne’s dessert shop has done so well. It has become so popular he has to open a pop-up store in a huge mall, which is more accessible to most. This results in the village shop calming down a little in terms of dine-in customers. It’s still popular with people still dropping by to order their pastries for the day or even for the night, but peak hours aren’t as hectic now, which Tyne’s grateful for. And there has also been an increase in non-peak hours, which gives those who hate crowds the opportunity to visit.
That’s how Tyne meets Wat—the recipient of his unplanned and unsolicited free sweet treats—if only to make the other man smile.
—000—
Smile.
Despite the lack of a smile on the handsome face, Tyne falls in love at first sight.
It’s almost four, just after the 3 pm peak hour on a Sunday, so Souri’s a little less busy with just a couple of tables occupied by a total of 4 people. Tyne’s busy arranging the mini display at the counter when the shop’s bell rings, indicating a newcomer. He looks up ready to greet the customers, but upon seeing who it is, his words die on his throat.
In front of him is the most gorgeous-looking specimen he has ever seen in his entire life, and he’s in a football uniform. Tyne stands there, gaping, as the handsome man lets in a group of rambunctious little kids inside and tells them to sit at the long center aisle table while he orders for them.
Tyne swears his heart stops beating as the man goes straight to the counter to order 11 cups of ice cream.
Up close, the man is more handsome, if that’s even possible. He has such beautiful Bambi eyes, a prominent Roman nose, the most luscious pink lips, and a well-defined facial structure framed by a shoulder-length, layered cut.
He’s sweaty obviously, but he looks and smells fresh to Tyne. In fact, he smells like the rainforest right after a shower. If that’s how he smells sweaty, Tyne can’t help but wonder just how fresher the man smells after a bath.
Let’s not go there, Tyne, he admonishes himself.
“Hi,” the man starts, his eyes on the menu while Tyne’s eyes are on him. The latter also just about melts at the slightly deep, raspy voice. “11 cups of your Souri Special cups please.”
“Uh. Right,” Tyne replies still a little distracted as he reaches for a cup they use for their special ice cream. “Erm… May I know your name, Sir?” Tyne asks. When the coach lifts an eyebrow, Tyne immediately clears his throat and explains, lifting the cup for the other to see the little box-like blank space. “So I—can put your name on the cups.”
The coach, thankfully, doesn’t make a fuss. After all, it’s also the procedure in almost all coffee shops everywhere.
“Wat.”
Wat. A unique and nice name for such an incredibly handsome individual.
“Okay, Sir Wat,” Tyne replies with a smile of his own. “11 cups of Souri Special. That’ll be—”
Wat hands him the cash, which Tyne takes with a surprisingly steady hand. After the handsome customer has gone back to the table, Tyne tells his staff he’ll be the one to prepare the order. The two staff give him a knowing look, but say nothing and just nod.
Tyne beams. It’s the reason why he hired Kimhan and Namcha and let them work full-time on weekends. They’re both hardworking students who don’t hover or question Tyne’s decisions. They just do their jobs well. On weekdays, he has Ajin and Tul in the morning and Maew and Tong in the afternoon—also very hardworking pairs that work well with Tyne.
Actually, Tyne’s very picky in terms of his staff, and it’s paying off. He’s only hiring students who need part-time jobs and he trains them himself. He wants to help those who need money for their studies. All six are college students who need money to pay for their college fees. Not that they don’t get allowances from their parents, but they’re all good kids who want to help on their own.
Tyne hums softly as he carefully but expertly prepares the 11 cups. When he’s done, Kimhan assists him in putting the eco-friendly cups in the tray along with wooden spoons, but he doesn’t offer to take them to the center table. Instead, the young man joins Namcha at the counter to help with the customers who just came in.
As Tyne’s about to serve the ice cream, a sudden thought halts him. He glances back at the cups.
Oh no. Oh no, Metatyne. You are not doing this.
But even he knows HE IS doing it. HE IS going to do it.
So before Tyne can back out from it, he goes back to the ice cream freezer counter and scoops a couple of flavors. He brings the cup to the soft ice cream mixer and allows the machine to combine the flavors. He then pours a drip of espresso on it—just a little—and places whipped cream, nuts, and chocolate chunks on top, finishing it off with a drizzle of his homemade chocolate syrup—a special syrup he also sells in jars, which is one of his bestsellers.
Satisfied with his handiwork, Tyne puts it on the tray along with the other cups and brings them to the center table. He smiles at the excitement on each kid’s face especially when Wat distributes it to them one by one.
When the only thing left on the tray is the unusual flavor, Tyne can see the confused look in Wat’s eyes as the latter looks up at him. Tyne simply smiles and tells him it’s a special flavor given to random customers.
“You can give it to another customer,” Wat says coldly.
And Tyne almost backs out. The other man can be really intimidating with that resting bitch face and that voice. But for some reason, the happy looks on the faces of the kids beside Wat make him stand his ground.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” Tyne says calmly. “If you don’t like it, you can just leave it be. I can’t serve it to another customer—that’ll be impolite. However, if you change your mind and still eat it, you can just leave a review on your receipt for us, which is actually the purpose of these random freebies. We’ll appreciate it, and the future customers will benefit from it. Thank you.”
And with that, Tyne walks away and goes straight to the counter, busying himself with taking inventory of the desserts left. Tyne doesn’t glance at the table and does not check if the man touches the cup of ice cream.
An hour later, Tyne sees the kids start standing up from the corner of his eyes. All of them wave to Tyne and say their thanks, with two even walking to the counter and thanking Tyne personally and asking for his name.
“I like you, Mr. Tyne. My name’s Meekael Taylor, but they call me Bunny,” the little boy says. “And here’s Briar Light. You can call him Wolf,” he points to the other boy whose hand he’s holding.
Tyne shakes the hands of the two boys and waves at them, extremely touched by the sweetness of the gesture.
Wat on the other hand doesn’t even spare him a glance or thank him before he leaves. The man simply ushers the kids outside the shop and doesn’t look back.
Dejected, Tyne frowns. But the disappointment only lasts for a full minute before his determination comes back in full force and tells himself that if the coach comes back, he’ll make sure to give him a free dessert again.
After all, Wat has finished the ice cream.
And that’s a good sign… right?
—000—
Good.
A one-time thing has become a regular thing.
Every Sunday afternoon, the group of boys and their coach go to Souri to get their fix of sweet desserts. And Tyne always makes sure he’s always there to get Wat’s order even though the man doesn’t engage him in any conversation other than his orders.
Bunny and Wolf always talk to him though. Bunny’s extremely talkative while Wolf’s content to just let him talk and stare at him, which Tyne finds cute.
Fortunately, the colder-than-ice coach doesn’t stop the two boys from talking to Tyne. Though he never spares their interaction a glance. The coach never looks his way. Not once. He’s ignoring Tyne, and it irritates and saddens Tyne at the same time.
His only consolation is that despite being cold and aloof, Wat’s demeanor changes completely whenever he addresses his team. He’s gentler with the kids, and it touches Tyne’s heart.
So Tyne being the softy that he is, even with all the warning bells telling him to slow down, continues to do what he does best—keep charming the seemingly bitter-cold man with the sweetest desserts.
And perhaps, one day, the saccharinity will slowly sip through the man’s veins.
And it’ll soften him up enough to appreciate Tyne and his consistency.
—000—
Consistency is indeed the key.
It has been weeks, but Metatyne Wong never stops doing it. Why? Because he’s stubborn as hell.
Every Sunday, once all the boys are done being served their cones or cups, Tyne will give the coach a free macaron or a free ice cream under the guise of asking for his opinion. Despite the warnings from his best friends, Gunnie and Pippy, Tyne pushes for it and continues to give the coach free desserts—alternately giving him ice cream and then macaron.
At first, the coach doesn’t budge. Wat accepts the free sweet treat and at least gives a nod as a thank you (or what Tyne stubbornly insists as a gesture of gratitude) but doesn’t comment about it.
Until that day when Tyne finally finds a note scribbled on a piece of tissue containing the icy cold coach’s review of the butterscotch ice cream flavor, Tyne gave him while he was picking up the trays.
It’s short, but it’s more than Tyne ever asked for: Not for me because it’s too sweet, but it’s good in terms of flavor. Will probably be a hit for kids.
Tyne sends his staff home early that day with a big smile on his face.
Since that afternoon, Tyne and Wat have continued to communicate that way. They never speak the words out loud, but Wat always leaves a review on the receipt or a piece of tissue, which Tyne always looks forward to.
The truth is, despite this routine starting as a way to melt the icy man’s heart, Tyne takes the reviews seriously because they are, after all, from a customer’s feedback. His two shops are doing well, and he needs all the feedback he can get.
But of course that’s just a bonus. Tyne can’t deny that his agenda, first and foremost, is still to melt the coach’s icy heart.
—000—
Melt.
Much to Tyne’s delight (and after a few more weeks of free desserts), his efforts seem to be working. The once stone-cold heart seems to start thawing right in front of his eyes.
For one, the review gets longer every week. And then there’s the VERY FIRST verbal thank you for the free macaron one Sunday, which makes Tyne’s whole week full of rainbows and rays of sunshine. His heart actually stops when he hears the words that he forgets to even say anything back. Gunnie and Pippy, who are there to witness it, have to pinch Tyne hard before he can move.
“Oi MetaTyne Wong. It’s been 10 minutes!”
“God, you’re so fucking whipped. But can’t blame yah. That’s a yummy piece of man ass.”
“And he smells yummy! Who gave him the right to still smell like rainforest after the rain even though he’s sweaty? The fuck?”
And Tyne just ignores his best friends’ babbling. He is too happy, and he wants to keep himself inside that little happiness bubble for at least a few more hours.
Wat’s a happy crush. There, he admits it. And he’ll be Tyne’s happy crush until he can no longer be.
Which happens sooner than later.
—000—
Tyne has never thought of sooner or later as a bad thing.
Time, to him, is a concept that’s inevitable, hence he always just goes along with its flow as much as he can. But this is one of those times he thinks time is probably not his ally.
Tyne doesn’t expect him to come that Saturday because it’s raining really hard. As much as he wants to see the older man, the kids shouldn’t be out in this downpour.
“Your man ass won’t be coming.” Pippy declares, a cup of FREE ice cream in his perfectly manicured hand, the audacity.
“He’s not my man ass!” God, why are his friends so vulgar?
“It’s been a couple of months, Tyne. There should have been a development by now. And no, thanking you IS NOT a development—it’s human decency,” Gunnie pipes in while biting into his FREE macaron.
Again, the audacity of his best friends to come every Saturday to witness his nonexistent lovelife for entertainment and even get themselves free desserts.
“Will you two shut—”
But Tyne’s words are drowned by the sound of the bell, signaling the entrance of a customer. He glares at his best friends before facing the newcomer with a smile.
Until he sees who it is. And he almost drops the smile. Almost. Because Tyne’s still a professional. And he will treat every customer with respect regardless of what they make him feel.
Tyne ignores the concerned glances from his best friends.
It is Wat. The one he’s been waiting for all afternoon. Dressed in a casual button-down and jeans with his hair tied in a half-ponytail, making him look more gorgeous than he already is. It’s as if he plans on going out in this downpour despite how inconvenient it is.
And Tyne could’ve swooned there and then really—or even deluded himself into thinking that the coach purposefully dressed up to see him here.
But—Wat’s not alone. He’s with someone. And that someone is a petite, elegant woman who looks so damn beautiful Tyne’s heart aches at the unfairness.
But what makes it worse is that Wat’s eyes are focused on her, his hand wrapped around her tiny waist. He’s looking down at her like she is his moon, and perhaps the entire galaxy he’d love to conquer.
Now Tyne isn’t one to conclude things. He knows she can be his friend, his best friend, or even his sister.
But then—right in front of Tyne’s face—Wat pecks her lips. Softly and oh so lovingly.
Fuck. Tyne hears something crack somewhere. It could be his heart, but he’s not exactly sure at the moment. What he’s sure of though is that it’s pretty obvious now what they are to each other.
God it would have been the perfect time to see Wat smile for the first time, and Tyne would have been happy. But instead, it hurts. It hurts that the beautiful smile is not directed towards him, and will probably never be for him. The coach has never smiled at him. Not once. And not with such a beautiful smile. Tyne has never seen the other man this alive before.
And damn it motherfucking hurts.
It’s just a happy crush, Metatyne, he reminds himself. You said it’s just a happy crush. He keeps reiterating in his mind. The pain he’s feeling is already telling him that perhaps, this is no longer just a happy crush.
Just shut the fuck up, Tyne, he forces himself to listen. Fortunately, his stupid self does.
So Tyne being a professional business owner still serves the couple, ice cream and a couple of macarons with a smile on his face. He tries not to look into Wat’s eyes though—he doesn’t want to.
“Enjoy your desserts,” he says, smiling at the beautiful lady, who smiles back at him before he turns his back on them and goes straight to the counter to keep himself busy.
Again, Tyne ignores the concerned glances his best friends are throwing at him. At least they know him enough to leave him alone for now.
Though he’s pretty sure he’s not going to come out of his shop unscathed—Gunnie and Pippy will not let him leave without the talk.
Once or twice Tyne can feel Wat’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t give the other man the satisfaction of acknowledging it. They’re not a part of each other’s lives for him to show the other man that he’s this affected. Tyne’s not starring in a rom-com drama. This is reality.
Finally, after a full hour of unaddressed tension that can be felt by everyone who knows Tyne, Wat leaves with the woman without talking to the sweetshop owner.
And Tyne reminds himself that it’s all right. Or if not yet, it will be.
As his friends hound him right after the door closes behind the guy and his date, Tyne tells himself that’s the sign that he should probably stop.
“You should,” Gunnie says quietly. He should.
“You’re not yet too deep into it. It’s better to stop now.” Pippy says.
Tyne nods. And if his best friends see his eyes misting, they don’t mention it. Instead, Pippy steals another cup of ice cream right in front of Tyne’s eyes.
But he doesn’t even notice.
Still, Tyne decides to stop. Before things get deeper and really complicated.
—000—
Complicated.
Wat and his presence in Tyne’s life—and the way he makes Tyne feel—are the complications he doesn’t need.
Tyne hates complications because he doesn’t know how to deal with them. Hence, he always tries and simplifies things, breaking them down into little pieces until the smallest parts are no longer significant.
Tyne starts by taking away the only connection they have—free desserts. It might look petty, but it’s not. When a person wants to move on from something, he has to go back to the roots and cut the source. Or else it’ll just keep growing and growing as if there have been no steps taken forward.
Tyne doesn’t exactly know why he’s moving on, but some things don’t need a valid verbal reason. Sometimes the things that affect a person the most aren’t spoken but felt.
So yeah—Tyne stops giving Wat free dessert.
He will never forget the shocked look on the man’s face that first Sunday he imposes it on himself when Tyne doesn’t take over the counter (which he usually does) as Wat comes to order for the kids. He will also never forget the confused look he throws at Tyne when there’s no extra cup or extra plate on the tray that Kimhan brings to the center table even though Tyne’s behind the counter.
A few minutes later, Wat even orders dessert for himself. But instead of Tyne serving him, he calls Namcha to take the young coach’s order, with his back on him all throughout the transaction.
Tyne swears he hears a dejected tone in the other’s voice, but he also thinks it’s probably his imagination.
That day, Wat and the kids leave Souri without a single interaction between him and the coach.
This is the 3rd Sunday since.
“Bye, Mr. Tyne!” Bunny’s voice interferes with his thoughts. Tyne looks up from the counter and waves at the kid who’s holding Wolf’s hand, before following the others out of the shop. Bunny and Wolf have been consistently sweet. Wolf always makes sure to say hi to him whenever he requests extra water for Bunny and him. Bunny on the other hand is the farewell representative, always the one waving goodbye to Tyne.
Tyne accidentally catches Wat’s eyes, but he immediately averts his gaze and pretends to examine the shelves for dessert inventory, which looks pathetic because there are almost no macarons and pastries left since they’re about to close in an hour.
“Using the kids as shields, huh?” Pippy asks beside him just as the door finally closes behind Wat, and Tyne can finally breathe.
“Why are you here again?” Tyne asks, eyeing the cup of ice cream in Pippy’s hand. “And stop getting free ice cream. You have to pay for that. You’re richer than anyone else in this neighborhood and you can’t even pay for a cup of ice cream.”
But Pippy ignores him in favor of testing his patience. “You should just confront him. It’s better than seeing you mope like this.”
Tyne rolls his eyes and starts collecting the trays. His store’s policy is to put all cups and utensils on the tray, but the staff will be the ones to collect the trays. They take waste segregation seriously, and most customers don’t do it right so it’s better if the staff are the ones to do it.
“Who’s moping?”
“Come on, Tyne. Talk to the man.”
Tyne shakes his head. “First of all, I don’t have the right to do that. Pippy—we don’t talk at all except when he orders for his kids.”
“You talk through the receipt reviews!”
“Shut it. Second, he’s just a happy crush.”
“Happy crush, but you’re this affected.”
Ouch, Tyne thinks, but he’s not going to give his best friend the satisfaction. He hands Namcha the trays, which the handsome young man willingly receives, before facing Pippy.
“Exactly that—how will it look like if I approach him and talk to him seriously about this stupid little crush I have?” How will Tyne even explain this to the man, when he himself doesn’t even know what’s going on with him? “The answer is NO, Pippy. He is just another customer.”
And that’s all he ever will be because that’s all he needs to be.
Tyne hopes he can keep that promise.
—000—
Promise.
Tyne keeps repeating the promise in his head when Wat corners him near the restroom at the back—in all his football god-image glory.
Well, it’s not exactly corner, but more like Tyne wants to pass, but Wat won’t budge. He’s not speaking either—possibly waiting for Tyne to address the situation.
But Tyne won’t. Nope. Never.
So instead of speaking or telling Wat to move, Tyne bows his head and tries to duck under the coach’s outstretched arm.
But instead, he gets trapped between the arms of the man—and what arms they are. Tyne can also smell him, and it’s intoxicating. The coach smells fresh, but there’s also an underlying hint of musk, probably from his sweat from playing football all afternoon.
Tyne, in all honesty, wants to bury his face in that neck, but he’s trying to keep himself steady before he does something stupid like sniff the man’s heady scent.
“Tyne?”
The other man’s soft tone brings Tyne back to the present. This is the first time the man addresses him in such a voice. Still, he immediately takes a step back to bring some distance between the two of them.
“Yes, Sir?” Tyne asks, trying to be formal.
“Tyne, can we talk?”
Tyne’s surprised at the question. Talk? Why will Wat talk to him? They never really… well, talked.
“Sir, if you have complaints regarding the services or our desserts, our staff will give you an evaluation form. We promise to take all comments seriously. If that is all, I need to go back to the counter.”
He tries to move, but Wat once again stands in his way.
“Tyne—can you please look at me?”
Fuck. Don’t—I’m telling you, Metatyne. Don’t you fucking dare—
“Tyne, please?”
Damn it. Tyne meets his eyes.
And what he sees there takes his breath away.
The walls in Wat’s beautiful eyes are down. And for the first time, Tyne sees emotions swirling in those brown peepers.
Tyne almost gives in. Well, he does, but not as much as he could have done if he’s in his right mind.
“You have 1 minute,” he says, proud of himself for staying calm as he waits for the other man to explain.
Wat actually looks nervous, but he also looks determined as if he knows this is a chance he shouldn’t miss.
“Tyne—”
Tyne doesn’t reply.
“I just—” he seems to hesitate at first. But when he meets Tyne’s gaze again, he takes a deep breath and continues. “The woman. The woman you saw with me. Her name’s Bea.”
Tyne feels the slight pain in his chest, but he ignores it in favor of glaring at Wat. “What about her?”
“I just—” Wat pauses again. “I just want you to know who she is.”
Tyne lifts a perfectly shaped brow. “Mr. Wat, I don’t think you need to explain to me what you and Bea have. You’re my customers, and it’s none of my business.”
Wat seems to flinch at that, but doesn’t say anything.
“Is that all? Because I have a lot of other things to do.”
“Tyne—why are you avoiding me then?”
“Avoiding you?” Tyne asks. “Mr. Wat, I am not avoiding you.”
“But you don’t give me free desserts anymore. You don’t even look my way anymore. You even act as if I don’t exist. Did I do something wrong?”
Wat looks hurt. Really hurt. As if what Tyne did crushed him to pieces.
There goes that traitorous heart again, Tyne thinks. He almost lifts his hand to his chest, but realizes that will look a little strange. So instead he crosses his arms in front of him and tries his best to smile at the seemingly hurt man.
“There’s nothing to explain, Mr. Wat. I just realized I’ve been acting quite unprofessional with you by forcing you my desserts, so I simply rectified it. You are my customer. I should treat you professionally.”
“But I love them. I really do.”
Damn it. Don’t you fucking give in, Metatyne. This doesn’t mean anything. He just wants the free desserts.
Liar.
Perhaps. But Tyne isn’t going to entertain that thought when Wat has a girlfriend. Or perhaps even a wife. He doesn’t really want to know.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Wat. That promo has ended. Good day to you, Sir.”
And with that, he walks away.
Wat doesn’t stop him this time.
But Tyne swears his heart bleeds at the soft whisper he hears just before he turns the corner.
“Tyne, please.”
Tyne doesn’t look back.
—000—
Look.
“And now you’re looking for him?” Pippy scoffs as he catches Tyne looking up for the umpteenth time just to see who entered the shop. “Tyne, you sent him away.”
“I did not!” He did.
“You did,” Gunnie replies, popping another macaron in his mouth. “What you did—that is sending him away.”
“How can that be—” Fuck, he did. But what can he do?
“He begged, Tyne,” Pippy interrupts his thoughts. “He wanted to explain, but you didn’t let him. You gave him one minute, but you were the one who consumed it, not him, you idiot.”
“He had nothing to explain.” Tyne wanted him to explain, but he felt like he wasn’t ready.
“Exactly, you idiot!” Pippy continues. “He had nothing to explain because like what you told him, it was none of your business. But he still felt like he needed to. Tyne—that meant something.”
“What do you mean?” No, Tyne doesn’t want to give himself hope.
“That he cares about what you think, goodness!” Gunnie almost screams, causing Tyne to apologize to some of the customers who jump at Gunnie’s voice.
“Gunnie, please calm down,” Pippy admonishes him. “We have customers.”
Gunnie sighs and turns towards the customers to bow his head and smile, before turning his attention back to the quiet Tyne. “Think about it, Metatyne Wong, or you might NEVER see him again.”
“It’s been three weeks, Tyne,” Pippy points out. “He might not even come back, but IF he does—give him a reason to keep coming back. Talk to him properly and hear him out this time.”
And Tyne thinks his friends might be right. He should stop being stubborn and hear the man out or else, he might not see him ever again.
And Tyne hates that it scares him.
—000—
Scare.
Tyne almost screams as he sees said man standing in front of the dessert shop just as he’s closing it.
“Damn it, Wat. Can you please give a man some warning?”
But instead of the expected snarky or cold comeback, Wat simply bows his head and murmurs an apology. Tyne being Tyne immediately feels guilty. He sighs as he continues to lock up the shop before looking at the said man.
“What are you doing here?”
Wat lifts his face so they can be eye to eye, and Tyne can’t help but wonder once again how in the world someone as gorgeous as this guy exists. He’s bathed in the moonlight, looking like a god that’s just sent to bring some sense into Tyne.
Tyne loves the shoulder-length hair tucked nicely in a half-ponytail. Not everyone can pull off the long-hair look, but here’s this man doing it effortlessly.
“Tyne, I just… I just really want to talk. Can we talk, please?”
His friends’ words echoing in his brain are enough to make Tyne agree. So he nods, much to Wat’s surprise. But instead of expressing it, the coach merely nods.
“Where do you… uh… feel more comfortable talking?” Wat asks shyly, something Tyne’s not used to. The man used to be so cold and intimidating that if Tyne wasn’t who he was, he wouldn’t have been able to approach him.
“I have a front porch. We can talk there,” Tyne replies to which the other nods. He starts walking, and he can feel Wat’s stares boring on his back. Though for some reason, they don’t make Tyne uncomfortable.
“Oh. You live here.”
Tyne smiles at the incredulity in the voice. It’s a good thing his back is facing the other or else—
“Yeah. So it’s easier to manage the dessert shop,” he instead replies, leading the man to his front porch. He gestures to the cozy cushioned wicker chairs. “Please make yourself comfortable. I’ll just go get us something to drink.”
Without waiting for Wat’s reply, he enters his home and goes straight to his huge kitchen. He takes his time preparing the drinks to also give himself time to calm down.
Once he feels like he can handle Wat’s presence, he comes out to the front porch bearing the tray of drinks. Wat sees him but doesn’t offer to bring the tray. And Tyne likes that. He’s not some damsel in distress. He can handle carrying a tray.
He places the tray at the top of the small table and sits beside Wat, maintaining a full foot distance between them.
“So—what do you want to—”
“I like you very much, Tyne.”
Tyne almost drops the glass he snatches for himself as he stares at the other man with his mouth agape.
“What?” he stupidly asks.
Wat nods, but immediately averts his gaze. “The very first time I saw you.”
What?
“What?”
“That day,” the coach continues, his tone wistful, “I thought the kids deserved a reward for playing so hard during practice that I asked them what they wanted to eat. All of them were curious about the new dessert shop we passed by every Sunday and they requested to get ice cream from said shop.”
Tyne doesn’t reply, but Wat seems to have taken that as a sign to continue, so he does.
“I usually don’t pass by this side of the village because I live in Phase 1,” Wat explains, “but ever since the field where we usually practice was taken over, I had to find another field to practice, and thank goodness, the developer agreed to let us use one of the grassy vacant lots on Sundays.”
“Are you—” Tyne interrupts, making Wat finally face him. “Do you teach football at the private school in town?”
Wat shakes his head. “No, I don’t. Teaching them is actually just a sideline of mine.”
Now Tyne’s curious. “What do you—do, if you mind me asking?”
Wat shakes his head. “I don’t mind. I’m a composer. I write songs.”
“Oh.” Tyne’s surprised. “Really?”
The other man nods. “Really. I… wanted to start my own label, but due to unfortunate circumstances, that has taken the backseat for now.”
“Why?”
A small smile blooms on Wat’s face, taking Tyne’s breath away. Wat smiling makes his face light up. But seeing the small hint of hurt in those eyes makes Tyne curious.
So he waits, waits for the handsome man to start talking. Thankfully, Wat does after a few seconds of silence.
“I had a falling out with my family.”
Oh. Oh. “Oh.” Tyne doesn’t really know what to say to that. “Erm… I’m sorry.”
Wat chuckles, and Tyne finds himself melting at the husky laugh. This is the first time he hears it. In fact, tonight is a night of so many firsts, and he keeps getting caught off-guard.
“You don’t need to be sorry, Tyne,” the coach replies seriously. “My family’s issues are caused by differences in… beliefs. And things just went awry.”
“Do you—want to talk about it?” Tyne asks. Perhaps, that’s Wat’s reason for seeking him. He needs someone to listen to his problems without the fear of being judged because they don’t know the coach. And Tyne is someone he just met recently—a not-so-stranger who falls under that category.
However, instead of nodding, Wat shakes his head. “No—at least not now. And Tyne.”
“Hmm?”
“I’m—not here to talk about me.”
“Oh. So—erm—”
“I’m here to confess, actually,” the small smile is back on Wat’s face. “I’m here to confess to you.”
Oh. OH. Oh! “Huh?”
“I thought I was obvious when we last met.”
Tyne frowns. That’s something he thought “If you like me, then why—”
Wat pauses for a bit, but Tyne can see he’s not going to back out. He had sought out Tyne for a reason, and he wouldn’t waste the chance.
“Tyne—I’m confessing to you because I want you to take this as a promise,” he says after a while.
“A promise?”
Wat nods. “I know you can’t trust me, not yet. Not when I haven’t proven anything yet. But, Tyne—please try to believe when I say it’s you. It’s you I like. Not her. Not anyone else. It’s you.”
“Wat, you don’t make any sense,” Tyne replies. “I’m not going to be a third party. Don’t ask me that.”
Wat shakes his head furiously. “Tyne, there’s no third party. You’ll never be a third party. You’re the only one. I promise. It’s just that—”
“That—”
“There are things I need to fix right now with her,” Wat says. “My relationship with her is complicated. But I assure you, it’s not anything close to romantic or any type of illicit affairs—Tyne, just let me… please… just let me fix this.”
Tyne bites his lower lip. That kiss hurt him. He needs to know what that’s about.
“Before I say anything about this, I want to know—what is that kiss for?”
Much to his surprise though, instead of frowning or looking surprised, Wat simply chuckles. It’s not even an ice-cold laugh. It sounds genuine. Sincere.
“Tyne. I wonder if you’ve really seen what happened.”
Tyne huffs defensively. “I was there, Wat. Of course, I saw what happened.”
“Then you should’ve seen I was uncomfortable about it. And you should have seen that the kiss had caught me off-guard. She pulled me towards her—I didn’t kiss her. I’m gay, Tyne.”
There’s finality and determination in Wat’s voice that even though Tyne wants to back out from his resolve, he finds himself nodding.
“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay. Let’s say I believe you—” The second one is to reassure himself that he’s doing the right thing. Wat won’t lie to him. He just knows he won’t. “—tell me what really happened.”
And Wat does. Without hesitations. And Tyne? Well, he’s going to listen.
“That day, that you’ve seen us,” the coach starts. “I was… about to confess.”
“What?” This is getting more confusing by the minute to Tyne.
Wat nods, looking embarrassed. “Yeah. So I was on my way to your coffee shop. I just walked to breathe some air and gather more confidence. I didn’t know she was following me, and approached me right before I turned the corner to your street.”
Tyne nods but doesn’t say anything.
“She wanted to talk to me about… something,” the man continues. And with the way Wat hesitates explaining further, Tyne thinks this is that issue he needs to fix with her, so he doesn’t question him.
“And—”
“I had to entertain her,” Wat says. “What we talked about that way was very important to me, so she asked me if we could have coffee so we could talk about it. And I agreed.”
Tyne sighs. “And you, being a gentleman, escorted her to my shop.”
“Yeah,” Wat says. “Bea isn’t… always that bad.” When Tyne lifts a brow, Wat chuckles. “What I mean is, she isn’t always an irritating person. She can be quite sarcastic if she isn’t chasing after me, and can crack a joke.” His eyes become somber as he says the next words. “That’s what you probably saw when we entered your shop. We were talking about a common person we knew, and something stupid he recently did. Said acquaintance is actually a close friend of mine, so it was easy for me to react.”
“Your arms were around her waist, Wat,” Tyne confesses. “And you’re looking at her lovingly. Now the lovingly is somewhat explained, but the waist—”
The amusement on Wat’s lips is so obvious, but hey—Tyne thinks he has the right to be jealous. He is, after all, the apple of this man’s eyes, or at least that’s what Wat claims.
“Tyne, she slipped and I had to catch her around the waist to prevent her from embarrassing herself,” Wat says. “I wish I could say it was purposeful, but she really slipped, and it’s because I accidentally tripped her—so we both laughed. I—” The coach hesitates, and he suddenly blushes, which makes Tyne confused.
“Why are you blushing?”
It takes a few more seconds before Wat’s able to compose himself, and then he lets out a deep sigh. “The moment we entered, I caught sight of you. And my world just stopped—like how it always does whenever I see you.”
This time, it’s Tyne who blushes. “Damn it.”
Wat chuckles again. “Well, yeah. That’s how stupid I react whenever I see you. I bet you think I used to glare at you because I was a cold motherfucker, but Tyne—my brain just short-circuits whenever I see you.”
“Stop,” Tyne groans. This is too much for his poor little heart, damn it.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” Wat says. “But—I think you now get what happens next. She probably… saw what made me act that way and—”
Tyne glares. “So she kissed you.”
“Well, yeah.”
“And then you started acting like I had the plague, and however I tried to look at it, I felt like, or more like, I hoped—that you felt the same way. That you were… jealous.”
“I was.” Tyne won’t deny it. Wat’s been putting everything out in the open. It’s only fair that he does too.
“Oh.” Wat pauses, but Tyne appreciates that he doesn’t look smug about it. He’s more… relieved. “Can I—can I come closer, Tyne?” Wat asks gently.
And all Tyne can do is nod and drown himself in those beautiful, somber Bambi eyes.
When Wat is just a breath away, Tyne closes his eyes. He’s not exactly expecting anything, but he’s not denying it either. If it happens, it happens.
Damn it, Metatyne. You WANT it to happen.
Oh, yes. I do.
“Tyne?” The warm breath that smells like coffee and toothpaste, fans all over Tyne’s face.
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“I’m really not a third party? You’re not cheating on her?”
“Never. I promise you that what we have is nothing like what you’re thinking, but—it’s too complicated for me to explain right now.”
“Well, okay.” It’s not that hard to convince Tyne after all.
So he just accepts it. Accepts the pillow-soft lips that taste as good as they smell. Wat kisses well—soft but not hesitant. Passionate but not aggressive. Though Tyne thinks if provoked, this man will transform into someone else that Tyne would love to get to know one day.
But for now, Tyne will just enjoy the moment he’s having with this man even though he knows that the complications he has been trying to avoid just keep hitting him in the face.
But he has to admit, this one is something he’d rather not avoid at all.
—000—
Avoid.
If anyone told Tyne a few months ago that he would avoid the coach for a different reason, he would have told them off.
But here he is, really avoiding the coach again, who looks so damn handsome in his football jersey, as he orders for the group of boisterous kids at one corner of the shop.
“Hey.” Wat says softly. Tyne hears a scream somewhere behind him, and he knows it’s his best friends, who are once again, in his shop and stealing his macarons right in front of his face.
“Hi,” Tyne says, clearing his throat. “Erm… so… erm…”
“Use proper words, Metatyne!”
“He’s blushing like a virgin when he’s no longer one!”
Tyne blushes deeper and turns his head to glare at his best friends who just smirk at him. He takes a deep breath and turns his attention back to the handsome man standing across the counter. He doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Erm… the usual for the kids?”
Tyne nods and starts punching buttons on the register. “Anything else?”
The coach doesn’t reply, but Tyne refuses to look up. He’s not this shy when it’s only the two of them together, but they’re inside his shop, and he feels like everyone’s currently staring at them.
Tyne clears his throat. “Anything…. Else?”
“Yes,” the coach replies. “Whatever the owner recommends. And—”
Tyne’s impatience when Wat doesn’t continue gets the better of him, so he finally looks up to meet the coach’s gaze—only to find him staring at him with the most loving gaze.
It takes Tyne’s breath away every damn time—how much love the other man has for him. And he hopes that Wat can see the same whenever he looks into Tyne’s eyes because sometimes Tyne thinks his love for him’s too great it’s suffocating both of them.
“W-wat?” he stutters.
Wat smiles. “Have dinner with me, Baby.”
Scream. Screams, actually. Tyne wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he refuses to let the teasing halter him from replying.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Coach?”
Wat puts his hand on top of his head and moves closer until they’re nose to nose.
More screams. Teasing. And Tyne could have sworn Pippy dramatically fainted, and the kids tried to help him get up.
“Baby, when you said yes six months ago, you said yes to every single date after that,” the coach replies. “And in another six months, we’re making it official.”
It’s been two years since that kiss on Tyne’s front porch. Wat disappeared for a couple of weeks after that, and when he came back, he formally proposed to Tyne and explained what happened.
Bea’s father owned the private school in town. His father granted scholarships to Wat’s kids through football. He was threatening to revoke it if Wat didn’t marry his daughter.
Bea’s father, as it turned out, was the head of the family Wat was promised to when he was younger. In other words, his parents fixed his marriage with Bea. Wat never entertained her advances but had remained polite for the sake of the kids while finding ways how to help them with the limited resources he had.
Right after Wat confessed to Tyne, he went straight to Bea and outright made it clear that he didn’t want her. Perhaps when he explained properly, Bea would have a heart and wouldn’t take it out on the kids.
But Wat was wrong. Right then and there, Bea told his father to revoke the scholarships.
He did. Right in front of Wat. The next day, Wat received calls from brokenhearted parents. These kids didn’t have the money, hence Wat worked hard to give them scholarships, even going so far as to be their coach for free when he himself was struggling to make ends meet. Wat’s family was rich. But he had been disowned.
That’s where Kavin came in. That day, Tyne’s brother offered scholarships to the kids. The Wongs owned a private school in the city center, and it had been a quick solution.
And then Kavin introduced Wat to Thyme, his… best friend. Thyme owned a record label, and coincidentally, he needed a talented composer for their new artists.
Wat was hired on the spot.
A few months later, he was hired again. This time, as Tyne’s boyfriend.
A few months after that, he was promoted to fiance status.
And in another six months—
“Damn you,” Tyne says before finally crossing the small gap between their lips and kissing his fiance gently. He feels Wat’s hand fall from his head to his shoulder as the coach kisses him back. He grins when he sees his staff and his best friends try to distract the kids from what’s happening at the counter.
Ooops. He almost forgets they’re not alone. So after savoring those cupid-bow lips for a few more seconds, Tyne finally moves away from the man and boops his nose with his finger.
“Fine. I’m going to dinner with you.”
Wat grins and starts walking backward towards the table with the kids. “Thank you, Baby. Meet you here at 6. After this, I’ll just go home to take a bath and come back.”
“Hey! Your payment. This isn’t free, Sir.”
“Put in on my tab,” Wat says as he winks. “I think this time, the promo extends to forever.”
“Hey!”
But Wat just chuckles and shakes his head before walking back towards the kids and sitting with them. Tyne rolls his eyes as he tells his giddy employees to prepare the order for their most demanding customer.
And then he joins them. He just notices that Wat actually saves a space beside him.
And as the banter around the table continues, he hears words whispered to his ear that just about melt his heart right then.
“I love you, Tyne.”
And all Tyne can do is say the words back.
##
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.
EPILOGUE
Wynn watches them from afar, a smile that is not so rare these days etched on his pretty face.
Seeing Bow, Daniel, and Mia chase each other around the park brings unexplainable happiness to his heart. A heart that was once stone cold but is now completely thawed by a fire that he still can’t grasp no matter how much he reaches for it.
The fire. His fire. Him
In the end, love is still not enough to contain Bright, but at least love has been enough for him to keep coming back.
It’s been two years and Bright still keeps visiting. Just visiting.
There are times when the other man stays for a week, sometimes even for two weeks. But most of the time, Bright just stays for a couple of days at the most.
And Wynn, he keeps asking even though he receives no answer.
Bright—he always flees without saying goodbye, as if he has finally acquired wings that render him invisible and indiscernible.
And Win finally gets used to it. At first, he always gets angry. Angry at the other man for being selfish and insensitive. But then he also realizes that it must have been hard for Bright to keep saying goodbye as much as it is hard for him to do so.
And since then, he has been more understanding of the other man’s feelings.
Still, Wynn keeps looking forward to the days Bright will appear on his doorstep, ready to stay for a day or two, or for weeks. As long as he keeps coming back, Wynn will keep hoping.
That one day, Bright will finally be able to clip his wings. That he can finally allow the last of the feathers to fall. That he will finally rely on his legs, legs that will finally allow the other man to travel the same path as Wynn.
Wynn closes his eyes and smiles. He is still broken, but for some reason, he feels whole. Maybe because the one who keeps breaking him is still the only one who keeps putting his pieces back together.
***
Wynn senses Bright’s presence even before he feels the other man sit on the patch of grass beside him.
“You don’t look surprised,” Bright says after a few moments of silence. “That I’m here again.”
Wynn simply hums before opening his eyes and turning his head to meet Bright’s gaze.
Bright chuckles. “I almost feel insulted.”
“You always come back,” Wynn says quietly, his eyes falling on the familiar backpack Bright usually carries with him. “That’s not new. I will probably be surprised if you decide to–” His voice trails off. They both know what he’s going to say next anyway.
“I need to hear you ask it.” It’s Bright’s only response.
“Again, that’s nothing new. You always tell me that.”
Bright pinches him on the sides, causing him to glare at the other man. Bright lifts a brow while Wynn continues to stare at him for a few more seconds before finally averting his gaze.
Wynn’s eyes go back to Bow and his niece and nephew. Daniel and Mia haven’t noticed Bright yet, but Bow has. His brother keeps throwing subtle glances their way, but leaves them be.
Bow knows about his pain, but his brother refuses to take it away from him. And it’s one thing he’s grateful about. Bow knows he needs to feel the wounds so he will know how to heal them on his own. His brother is not the type to cradle him, and perhaps, he has been helping Wynn that way.
“Fine,” Wynn finally sighs. “So will you?” he asks, trying to sound casual. “Stay?”
He doesn’t receive a verbal answer. Instead he feels the weight of Bright’s head on his lap. The man lies down on the grass and just puts his head on Wynn’s jean-clad thigh.
And Wynn allows him. Bright is probably tired from all the flying he has been doing for the past few months. Win knows even winged creatures need to rest. They cannot fly forever.
He runs his fingers through the other man’s hair, feeling the soft silky strands glide against his fingers.
Bright hums, his tone sounding grateful and content.
Wait–
It only takes him a couple of seconds before he finally realizes it.
And then Wynn smiles.
He closes his eyes and just feels. He doesn’t need words. He never does.
Soon, he feels Bright reach for his hand on his hair, and holds it close to his chest.
“Wynn.”
“Hmm?”
Bright doesn’t reply, but there’s a silent question hanging between them. A question that they probably both know the answer to, yet both seem afraid to voice it out loud.
But Wynn answers it. Because he can. He can now.
“I know,” he says. He leans down and places his forehead against Bright’s.
“Welcome home, Bright,” he whispers against the other man’s lips, before finally claiming them fully in a kiss.
Bright smiles and allows himself to be embraced by the familiar feelings that used to chase him away.
It’s time. They both know it’s time.
Bright finally allows the last of his feathers to wither away with the wind.
He doesn’t need them anymore.
End
CHAPTER 6 – CLIP
Bright
Life is a never-ending crossroad. The choices are there, and one only has to choose which direction to take.
The catch is, every direction is the unknown. It has to be chosen and experienced before the consequences are revealed.
Life is a tricky bastard that way.
Life is sly, cunning. It moves like a monster, lurking in the dark, until an unsuspecting prey passes along the way. And then it jumps and devours it. Mercilessly. Giving it no choice but to surrender.
Bright is the prey.
Within a span of almost three months, Bright’s life—the life that he has tried to keep steady for years and the life that he has fought for and has sacrificed a lot for—changes.
To be free. To fly. To cross over horizons. To reach the precipice of nothingness. These are his goals as a wanderer. Spreading his wings fully—it’s what defines him. It’s what makes him, him.
Yet here he is, on a bench at a bus stop, waiting for the right bus to arrive. His cheeks are wet with tears for crying over the loss of that something that stops him from being him.
Bright doesn’t expect the tears to fall. For one, he never has to deal with something similar before. And two, he never finds the use for them. Tears usually define one’s strength. But in his case, tears define his weakness.
Bright isn’t supposed to feel. Most especially he isn’t supposed to fall. He isn’t supposed to be attached. He is supposed to leave after two months.
He couldn’t. Every time he wants to just pack up and leave, whenever he feels Daniel’s hugs and Mia’s cuddles, or even hears Bow’s toneless voice, and he just postpones it for another day.
And then he sees Wynn. His smiles, his frowns, his morning bed head, his icy expression, his laughing face—saying goodbye has never been more painful. It’s slowly destroying Bright inside.
He has so many questions that are still unanswered. And if they remain blank for a long time, he will disintegrate with the burden that is supposed to set him free.
Is freedom still worth it? Will he allow himself to still flee when all he thinks of is being incarcerated inside that apartment with the people he comes to love in just a few weeks?
Does he still need to fly when every time he thinks about the nest that becomes his temporary home, he wants to settle down?
Does he still need these fluffy, intricate wings that he has been enhancing for so long when his feet are now refusing to fly along with them?
Sure, he has answers. But they are still as fuzzy as his feelings. And it’s unfair if he pushes to stay when what he feels is still as vague as his intended destination.
Bright closes his eyes. For the first time in his life, he wishes for his heart to overrule his mind and his senses.
But God—it won’t cooperate.
He opens his eyes, frustrated at the stubborn fist-sized organ inside his chest. He needs help. He needs clarity. Or else even his life’s purpose will become a vague memory that he might not be able to recover.
Securing his backpack on her shoulders, Bright stands up and crosses the highway to wait for the bus going the opposite way.
His wings need to make a detour. Perhaps, it’s time for him to visit.
It’s been so long.
***
How many months has it been since Bright has last caught sight of the huge glass house he never calls home?
He almost forgets how beautiful it is. How the transparent glasses allow him to see the large front garden and the small lake at the back. How the sun directly shines on his face the moment he wakes up. How he can clearly see the starry night sky from his bedroom window—
Bright has to admit that he missed this.
He turns towards the cab driver, the old but still jolly Tomas, and hands him a wad of cash. He has to take a cab in town to get here, and he is fortunate that the cab driver knows him and doesn’t make a fuss upon seeing him.
Bright is not going to stay. He doesn’t want a commotion. He doesn’t want a warm welcome. Old Tomas knows it, and he silently acknowledges it with just a mere nod.
“Thank you,” Bright says before closing the door. Tomas gives him one last wave before the old man zooms away.
Bright takes a needed breath before he climbs the three-level stone staircase leading to the front door. The young man steadies the backpack on his shoulder before pressing the doorbell beside the polished wooden door and patiently waiting for whoever will answer the door. It’s still early, around 3 pm. He is quite sure that his family will not be home yet.
Oh how wrong he is. Mika answers the door. Poor Mika whose face pales upon seeing her long lost wanderwhore of a brother.
“Bright?” His sister’s voice is a whisper, but the look in his eyes tells Bright the onslaught of emotions she is currently feeling—shock, delight, a burst of anger, and happiness.
Happiness seems to win. Because Mika’s eyes finally soften as she takes in all of Bright’s form.
“You’ve grown taller,” Mika says softly, her voice quivering. “Not that you weren’t a giant even before. I mean–”
“Mika,” Bright responds gently, a small smile on his face, as he watches the tears start to form in his sister’s eyes.
Mika silently and slowly opens her arms to him. “I deserve a big sisterly hug, don’t you think, you big doofus?”
That’s all Bright needs to hear before he comes walking towards Mika’s arms and embracing her tightly.
And then as if a switch is flicked on, Bright cries. Hard. He cries for missing his family. He cries for staying away for a long time. He cries for leaving. He cries for everything he’s been keeping locked inside his chest for a long time.
Bright cries. He just cries.
The two of them stand there for a long time, with Mika holding his much taller younger brother in her warm, familiar arms.
It’s the sight that their parents come home to. After a few seconds of getting over the shock of seeing their prodigal son, they join the embrace-and-tears fest happening right at their front door.
The three of them hold Bright tight. And Bright, in turn, holds on to them just as tight.
Bright never wants to let go. So he doesn’t.
***
Bright’s eyes are closed, his head on his sister’s lap, as Mika sings a familiar song to him.
The two of them are about to sleep, but because Bright misses his older sister, he requests for her to sing him a song before she leaves for her bedroom.
It’s oddly comforting.
When they were kids, Mika used to do the same. It was her way of helping Bright divert his attention away from his constant desire to flee. Mika has a beautiful voice, which has always instantly relaxed Bright’s mind.
Bright is on the verge of falling asleep, carried away by his sister’s lovely voice, when Mika suddenly stops singing and asks the question he is not ready to answer yet.
“So who is he? Or is it a she?”
“Who?” Bright’s eyes fly open, trying to sound casual.
It fails.
“Don’t who me,” his sister says, lightly tugging at his fringe, earning her a loud ouch from said young man. “We both know that something, or more appropriately someone happened.”
“It’s not what—”
Mika covers Bright’s mouth with her free hand. “Shut up. Isn’t that the reason why you’re here looking all tired and confused? I know you more than you know your flighty self. Now confess,” she demands, sounding like how a typical older sibling usually is. But then in a softer tone, she adds, “You know you can tell me anything.”
Can he?
“So–” Mika clears her throat. “Is it a he or a she?”
Bright blushes before finally admitting defeat. Mika will never leave him alone anyway. “It’s a he.”
“Okay–so?”
“What so?”
“Bright–” His sister’s voice sounds frustrated. “What are you so afraid of?”
“I don’t know,” Bright honestly responds. “I honestly don’t know anymore. I used to be aware of my fears and my desires, Mika. But now they’re all blurred again and I feel lost.”
“No, you aren’t,” Mika says.
“I’m not what?”
“You aren’t lost,” Mika replies. “You came back home. You knew your way back home. You’re not lost.”
Bright chuckles softly. “I don’t understand myself anymore, how can I not be lost?”
Mika shakes her head. “I really think you’re wrong about this. I don’t think you’re lost. In fact, I think you’re experiencing the opposite.”
Bright remains silent, waiting for his sister to elaborate because he knows she will, at least until she knocks some sense into him.
“You found something. And it’s making you feel confused because you don’t know how to handle the feelings it’s eliciting from you. Am I right? Or am I correct?”
Bright fails to respond, but his silence is enough for both of them.
“There are things in this world worth taking a risk for. Because sometimes, it’s in taking a risk that we find the clarity we’re looking for.” Mika lightly strokes Bright’s cheeks before her fingers drift back to his hair. “Bright, I will not ask for details. Maybe you need to sort it out first yourself even before you can share it with the people who care for you—I don’t know, I’m not sure. But I just want to ask this—do you think, whatever this is that’s making you feel confused, it’s worth it?”
Is it?
Mika sighs. “Idiot, don’t use this too much,” she says while flicking a finger on her brother’s forehead. “You’ve been using this since the beginning of time along with your stupid senses. Well bad news, they’re not always reliable. Your senses get dull and this brain of yours is overused.”
Bright frowns. Mika shakes her head.
“Use this instead. Because sometimes, this fist-sized thing here is the only thing you need to consult.” Mika reaches for his hand and places it on his chest.
Bright can feel his heart beating. Right now, the beat is a slow, continuous rhythm. But even if it lacks the pumping adrenaline that a fallen heartbeat possesses, Bright knows at least this particular answer. Because every beat reminds him of nothing but him.
Of Wynn.
I love you.
“He told me he loves me,” Bright admits as he stares at the ceiling.
“And?” Mika asks softly.
I love you.
Those words used to scare him and chase him away.
“I don’t know,” Bright replies.
I love you.
“Are you ready, Bright?”
Am I ready? Is he ready to be a familiar face in a world full of strangers? Is he ready to be somebody in a world full of somebodys? Is he ready to cut the wings off his flighty feet and stay?
Bright remembers the way that Daniel toothily smiles whenever he wants to ask a favor from anyone. The boy knows how to use his charms to his advantage. Bright remembers the way Mia always tries to act like a grown-up lady even though she is very much still a girl in everyone’s eyes. Bright remembers the way Bow tries to act tough even when he wants to be vulnerable. He’s quite bad at hiding his uncertainties even when he tries so hard to cover them up.
And then Bright finally remembers Wynn. Just Wynn. Because everything about him is something and everything to Bright.
Is he ready? He feels like he is.
Lupita’s words echo in his mind like an endless loop.
“When you can’t take the flight, allow yourself to fall. There’s nothing wrong with falling… and risking whether someone will catch you or not.”
And then Mika’s.
“Leave, travel, go everywhere, anywhere… but come back. Because no matter how much it scares you, home is home, Bright. You need a home. Even if it’s not with us, there will come a time that you will have to stay somewhere.”
“How will I know?”
“When you come back on your own, you know you’re ready to stay.”
Stay. Home. Come back.
“Bright?” Mika’s voice cuts through his thoughts.
“Hmm?”
“We want to meet him,” Mika declares with a fond smile. “We want to meet the man who finally made you want to stay.”
Bright’s cheeks turn red, but doesn’t say anything. Sometimes he wants to strangle his sister for knowing him more than he knows himself.
Mika simply chuckles at his reaction.
“Sleep it off, Bright,” she says before lifting his brother’s head and putting a pillow under it. “Tomorrow, I bet you will have the answer.”
Will he?
“Good night, Bright. And don’t think too much.”
***
The sun doesn’t even begin to shine yet, but Bright is already totally awake.
He takes one last look at the piece of paper in his hand before placing it on top of his bedside table.
“I promise I will come back soon,” he whispers.
Bright quietly leaves his room.
And the house.
He has a place to go.
***
Dear Mom, Dad, and Mika,
I woke up today and realized that my flighty feet are fading along with my wings. My feet do not feel as light anymore, and my wings are now a pair of translucent nerves that feel useless.
I feel like they will both disappear soon. In my heart, I have accepted that fact.
But before they totally disintegrate right in front of my eyes, I will use them to have one last flight.
And then I will allow them to finally be clipped.
I will see you soon. I promise. By that time, it will be by feet and not by wings.
I love you all.
Bright
***
Bright knows Mika will find his letter. Bright also knows that he will once again disappoint his parents.
But Mika will understand. And she will make their parents understand.
It’s just that Bright has to do this.
For himself and for him.
***
The café is full.
It is that time of the month when people just want to laze around in an air-conditioned place, gobbling up sweet things while having their caffeine fix.
Bright stands outside the café with his backpack slung on his broad shoulders. He takes a deep breath, the beat of his heart changing along with the look in his eyes.
This time, he doesn’t look conflicted. Or burdened. With a determination that he has only felt once or twice in his life, he barges inside the café, his eyes instantly searching for him.
He doesn’t see anyone, not even Daniel and Mia, who are both there, looking surprised at Bright’s sudden appearance.
“Bright!”
Bright whips his head and meets Bow’s pleasantly surprised face. He seems to be manning the counter. Bright would have been surprised too upon finding the other man there, but he is busy searching for someone else.
Bright walks towards him, his gait laced with purpose.
“Where’s Wynn?” he asks, sounding a little breathless. Bow opens his mouth to answer him when a sound of a swinging door is heard.
“Bow? What’s the commotion all—Bright?”
And Bright freezes in place at the sight of the man he misses, flighty feet and all.
“Wynn.”
Wynn
Wynn doesn’t know the feeling of how it is to fly.
He doesn’t have wings. He finds no purpose for the pair of elaborate, gentle mesh that has the ability to bring a soul onto its favored destination, along with the feeling of lightness and the taste of freedom.
He doesn’t know how it feels to spread one’s wings, and then allowing them to glide with the wind or even against it.
He doesn’t know how it feels to maneuver a pair of massive woven feathers attached to one’s back as he mingles with the clouds and breathes everything in.
He doesn’t know how it feels to synchronize the movements of his limbs with the flap of his wings.
All he has ever needed in his life is a pair of legs. Legs that can help him carry the load that he has willingly carried on his back for years.
He used to not care. But he finally catches sight of a wing carrier from his post on the ground and Wynn just finds himself captivated by the sight.
He loves how the rhythmic flutter of the wings synchronizes with the dance of the wind. He is amazed by the shadow the figure casts upon the shrouds of white, a touch of gray that heightens the feel of realness amidst the realm of the reel.
But then, the shadow starts to fall. And in his haste to catch it, he changes the direction of his feet.
Wynn feels the fall. While he is the one who catches, he still feels the impact. The reckless descent robs him off his breath, leaving him gasping for a much-needed air that is neither granted nor felt. He feels helpless as he flails, trying to clutch at a saving grace that will break his fall.
He never finds it. Yet, he feels like he never hits the bottom ground. He remains suspended in a cloud of ambiguity, the fine line between two clashing yet complementary forces—the purgatory of a truth and a lie.
At the moment, he is not sure which he prefers—the truth that can destroy him or a lie that can temporarily save him?
How to fall. He never did learn the basics. He’s clueless, emotionless, on what to exactly do now that the man he misses so much is in front of him.
Bright has beautiful, expressive eyes. And he is looking at him with those brown orbs that never fail to render him momentarily useless and numb.
Wynn’s mind is currently a vessel of unguarded, unanswered questions.
What is Bright doing here? Why did he come back?
Bright just left a couple of days ago, leaving him with a hollowness that he has not once felt. And now the man is here. And he is scared to know the answers he might have brought with him.
Wynn walks closer until he’s standing just a foot away from Bright. Bright, who seems to have frozen in place. Wynn would have laughed at the expression on his face if neither of their hearts were on the line.
His movement seems to have woken Bright up from his temporary daze. In fact, the other man looks startled.
Wynn remains quiet and doesn’t say anything. He is afraid to utter a word, worried that it might chase the other away even before Bright states his purpose.
Wynn waits. He waits for Bright to say the first word.
And he does.
“I… visited my family,” Bright says.
The statement confuses Wynn, but he doesn’t say a word, waiting for the other man to finish talking.
“Wynn, I… I… how do I explain this?” The words are whispered, but Wynn still hears them. And before he can stop himself, he reaches out to cup his cheek–a gentle gesture that surprises them both.
“What’s the matter?” Wynn asks carefully. “Did… did something bad happen?”
Bright shakes his head, but doesn’t utter another word.
“Bright?”
Bright shakes his head again, and with more conviction this time. However, he still doesn’t say a word to Wynn.
“Bright,” Wynn calls softly, trying to read the cloudy thoughts reflected in Bright’s eyes, but the other averted his gaze. Wynn sighs. “Look at me, Bright. Please?”
Perhaps it’s the pleading tone in his voice, but Bright finally does.
And Wynn finally sees everything.
There is fear in those eyes. There is also doubt. And there is… resolve. Despite the thin veil of insecurity, there is determination in those eyes—Bright wants this to happen and he will not regret it, whatever it is the other man is about to do or say.
Wynn’s chest aches. And he knows, he will soon bleed. He doesn’t need more words to come out from the other’s mouth to define what he has seen in Bright’s eyes.
Wynn cups Bright’s face with both of his hands. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes are begging Bright to prove him wrong.
He doesn’t.
“I can’t, Wynn,” Bright whispers. “I can’t stay.”
Wynn stills, his hands as rigid as ice.
“Listen to me, Wynn, please listen to me,” Bright hurriedly says, placing his hands above Wynn’s before the other can take them away. “Wynn, I did not come here to stay. Not yet. I am not yet ready.”
Wynn’s face remains unreadable. Bright gives him a sad smile. He caresses the hands that are still on his face, the gentle soothing motion of his fingers relaxing Wynn, but not making him feel better.
“Why?” Wynn finally asks.
“Because I want closure. And to find it, I need to take one last flight on my own.”
On his own. He doesn’t need Wynn and it fucking hurts.
“Wynn–-I have to go back and retrace the paths I have taken. It’s the only way I know I can attain the closure I’ve been looking for. But before I can do that, I–” Bright’s hold on his hand tightens. “I need to come here first. I need to see you. I need to–I just… I just want you to know that I want to. Stay,” Bright softly admits. “I need you to know that I do.”
Wynn remains silent.
“But my wings–” Bright continues as he gives Wynn’s hands one last caress before releasing them. “They couldn’t be clipped overnight. I need time to slow down so I will not crash and leave us with nothing but broken pieces of me. Do you… do you understand me, Wynn?”
He does.
“I need to clip my wings on my own,” Bright says, his eyes never leaving Wynn’s. “And… I need time, Wynn.”
Time. Time is always a factor in a crucial decision. A cruel constant in a world full of uncertainties.
“But I will come back. I will always come back.”
But will you ever stay? Wynn wants to ask Bright. But for some reason, he remains tightlipped.
“Wynn–please always ask me every time I come back,” Bright says, pleads, as if he can understand Wynn’s thoughts. “I know it’s selfish and my answer might not be what you would want to hear, but please always ask me.”
Desperation. Sadness. Anger. Hope. He can hear them all in Bright’s voice.
“I will need to hear you say the words,” Bright continues. “Because even if I will not be ready to stay yet, I will always have a reason to come back. I will always have something to hold on to, something that will always remind me that I need to try because there is someone, something waiting for my answer.”
No words come out of his lips. But he knows Bright can see his pain.
“Promise me,” Bright whispers.
And then… Bright kisses him.
And Wynn– he kisses him back, pouring all the words he couldn’t say in that one last desperate gesture.
“I’m not enough, am I?” Wynn finally asks when their lips separate.
“I love you,” Bright whispers against his lips, not bothering to answer the question Wynn finally has the courage to ask.
And then he lets go.
Without another word, Bright immediately turns around and leaves, the sound of the bell tinkling after him.
He doesn’t look back. Not once.
Wynn doesn’t see the people around him. Doesn’t see Bow looking at him with worry in his usually indifferent eyes. Doesn’t hear Daniel and Mia being restrained by Jared and Reeve because they are both calling for Bright. Doesn’t hear the sighs of disappointment and pity from the other patrons in the café.
Wynn’s eyes are only on Bright’s retreating figure. He watches Bright walk away from him until he can no longer see the other man.
Until he can no longer feel him.
Until he disappears from his life..
Wynn closes his eyes and makes a small promise to himself.
One day. One day he will be the weight to his wings so he will not be blown astray by the unpredictable wind. He will guide him down until his feet completely touch the ground and he no longer needs to fly.
And Wynn will never let go.
But right now, he needs to accept that he is not enough to make Bright stay.
And he has to let him go.
***
Endings pave the way for beginnings.
A month after Bright left, Wynn and his family of four started new routines. Routines are something that would not have been possible if their lives weren’t touched by a stranger.
“Are you ready to go, kids?” he hears Bow call from the living room. Wynn places his empty coffee mug at the kitchen counter and leans back against it, preparing his ears for the coming retort.
“We’re coming, Papa! Dan is just slow! His legs are still too short!”
“Am not slow, Mia! And I’m not a shorty! I will grow tall, tall, tall, once they cut my ding-dong, you will see! Don’t be a meanie! I will just tie my shoelaces!”
“What do you mean they will cut your ding-dong?! Papa! Dan is talking nonsense! Uncle Wynn!”
“It’s true, Mia! That’s what happens to boy grownups!”
Wynn shakes his head, a small smile plastered freely on his face. From among all the changes Bright caused, this is probably the best one.
Bright. Wynn unconsciously places his hand on his left chest. The thought of the other man still pains him, but he is coping. He has to accept the fact that while there is a possibility that he might come back, there is an even bigger possibility that he might not. While the pull of the heart wins most of the time, the pull of one’s soul is enigmatically more stubborn.
Even he understands that.
It’s heart versus soul. And Bright’s soul is as stubborn as his invisible wings.
Wynn shakes his head, trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts. He composes himself before he exits the kitchen, car keys in hand, and joins his brother in the living room.
Bow looks up from the magazine he’s been reading and offers Wynn a small nod.
“Mia has a meeting for her class’s bake sale,” Bow says tonelessly. “Dan says he will wait for her until 2 pm.”
“She’s not even ten and she already has meetings?” Wynn asks, clearly joking. “And Bake Sales? Just so you know, you will pay for the cakes she will get from the café.”
Bow rolls his eyes. “Tell me about it. She’s being smug about it too. She acts like a damn grown up sometimes and I don’t like it. She is growing up too fast. And the cakes–just deduct it from my salary,” he sighs.
Bow doesn’t seem to realize it, but he’s being possessive and protective, and it’s a good sign. For someone who is diagnosed of not being able to feel again, it’s always a good sign whenever Bow shows any type of emotion.
Wynn reaches out to pat him on the back. “You’re doing quite well, Daddy.”
Wynn feels Bow stiffen upon hearing the label, but he immediately relaxes.
“Thank you,” Bow whispers. He doesn’t need to tell Wynn how embarrassed he is. Once upon a time, Wynn had mastered the art of reading Bow. That skill hasn’t diminished in time, flat affect or no flat affect. He might never be able to see happy tears from Bow’s eyes again, but he knows his brother would have been crying by now if he could. Unlike Wynn, Bow never had a problem with expressing his emotions through tears. Bow has always been braver than him.
A comfortable silence hangs between them, the type of stillness that has now become a welcomed regular presence. Silence, in any of its forms, has been a sort of comfort for Wynn.
“Are you going to be okay?” Bow asks him a couple of minutes later. He sounds cautious, careful, as if he’s scared that Wynn will suddenly break in front of him like a piece of fragile glass.
Will he be okay?
He has to be. He just has to be.
Wynn values life and its flow. Life, even with a shattered heart and unfulfilled desire of the soul, must always, always go on.
Wynn lifts his hand to touch his heart that’s painfully beating inside his chest.
“I will be,” he responds softly, his words echoing the thoughts of his mind but not the yearning of his soul.
He will be.
CHAPTER 5 – FALL
Bright
Bright meets his first love in college.
Denver is his classmate in Psych 101 – Basic Psychology. It’s Bright’s favorite elective.
He sits right in front of Bright in class while Bright sits on the last row, beside the window. While Bright’s itchy feet are more controllable in college, he still needs an escape that can help divert his attention from all the boredom a monotonous class could bring. Boredom triggers his urge to flee, and it’s something he still needs help with.
Denver is arguably good-looking. His skin is as white and clear as clouds. He wears his hair in an undercut, its shiny blackness a perfect contrast to his skin. He often has a stoic expression on his face, but his Asian eyes have always revealed everything he’s thinking. He’s on the thin side and has an average height for a guy. He possesses an attractiveness that will probably not be appreciated at first glance by a casual passerby. He has a quiet charm—beauty that only speaks to someone who keeps looking.
Denver has quickly become Bright’s distraction in class. The young man is quiet, barely talks unless the professor calls him. He has a raspy voice, which sounds weird yet can bring a certain kind of comfort. It dulls Bright’s senses so well that he almost doesn’t need to sit beside the window to distract himself.
Bright stops feeling the need to flee whenever he hears Denver’s voice.
It’s a new feeling for Bright. He has never experienced such an incessant fluttering of heart and shortness of breath before, and just because of the sight of a man. All he knows is that he always finds himself looking at Denver whenever he arrives in class, following him with his gaze until the other young man takes his seat in front of him. Bright even often forgets he is supposed to listen to the lesson and stare at the professor, or at least focus on the writings on the board because his eyes automatically drift their way to the back of Denver’s head.
One fine day, Denver finally catches Bright looking at him, his profound eyes snatching the breath out of him.
And Bright, fears that it’s the end. That his first crush feelings will be crushed by his own crush.
But fate has other plans. Bright–he couldn’t have been more wrong. Because Denver bravely asks him out. The quiet, cold classmate asks him out on a date and admits that he has been staring at him for quite some time now too.
For the first time, Bright feels a certain warmth in his heart. It takes his breath away and allows him to float with the clouds.
They date for a while. Despite their uncanny similarities, everything seems to work for both of them. Denver doesn’t suffocate him. While Bright? He doesn’t demand much from Denver. It’s a mutually beneficial relationship wherein things seem to go right.
Until Denver utters the words that change everything.
I love you.
And Bright flees. Without explaining anything to Denver, he flees. The words catch him off-guard, scaring him to oblivion. Those words are uttered so tenderly Bright knows they mean so much more than what he is willing to accept.
It’s too much.
And just like that, Bright breaks the heart of the first person outside of his usual crowd who genuinely cares for him.
And it hurts him deeply. It hasn’t been his intention to hurt Denver, or to even lead him on.
Bright cries for days as he mourns the end of his first relationship. Yet, even with all the sadness and pain, he knows he will do the same thing again if he is given a chance to go back to that moment.
Denver is a dream, a really good one that allows Bright to feel a new emotion he never thought he could even experience. But he also realizes that what he shares with Denver is probably not love. Because if it is, Denver’s confession could have made him happy instead of doubtful. Could have made him grateful instead of scared.
And… his words could have been enough to make him stay.
But they aren’t.
Bright knows love exists in different ways. His family loves him, and that feeling has been keeping him safe and secure for the longest time. He is aware of the love between friends too, and how different it is from the love shared among family members.
But Bright is not familiar with the love between strangers, not until Denver arrives and shows it, only to realize he is not probably ready to reciprocate such a pure and steady emotion that’s why he doesn’t feel it.
All throughout his wanderwhoring, Bright has never felt it nag at him. He has never felt it poke at him.
Yet–
Staring at the family in front of him, Bright feels like he is suddenly assaulted by an onslaught of tender thoughts and feelings. Familiar feelings that he once thought he’s ready to accept. It’s an ordinary weekend and an ordinary set up, but the sight in front of him is giving so much warmth he feels like melting from it.
Bow, the usually indifferent man is playing with Daniel and Mia. He’s still not laughing and he’s still not smiling, but the way his children lean on him tells Bright that the relationship between father and kids have long since changed, and perhaps for the better. While Bow can never go back to the way he was before, the smiles on the two children’s faces reveal just how happy this change in him makes them.
And then there’s him. Wynn.
Bright’s eyes automatically fall on the guy he has been avoiding lately, and this simple action immediately reminds him why.
It’s Bright’s heart. Every time Wynn is near, breathes the same air as him, his heart constricts painfully inside his chest, rendering him breathless and weak. Bright is not dumb. He has an idea what this is, but he doesn’t want to recognize it. Recognizing it means accepting it. Accepting it means acknowledging that it’s true.
Recently, he feels the strangest things whenever Wynn is nearm opposing feelings that confuse the hell out of him. Whenever Wynn accidentally touches Bright, the latter feels like he is being burned with a fire that ignites his senses. Whenever Bright hears Wynn’s voice, he gets carried away by the deep melody of the song his soul sings, yet he hesitates to sing along with the fear of being out of tune.
Wynn. Wynn is the contradiction that his heart can’t afford to understand right now.
Wynn. Wynn. Wynn.
As if hearing Bright’s thoughts, said man lifts his head and meets his gaze. And Bright? He averts his gaze because looking at the other man is a painful burden that’s making him breathless.
“I’m leaving,” Wynn suddenly announces, making Bright flinch. The other man stands up and hugs Daniel and Mia, who just continue to play with their toys, and reaches out to touch Bow’s shoulder. “I’ll be back early. I will bring dinner.”
Bow nods, throwing a short glance at Bright. Wynn ignores the gesture and walks past the couch Bright is seated and doesn’t even throw him a look.
Bright feels his heart crack a little as he hears Wynn’s footsteps fade.
It hurts. He can’t deny that it hurts.
“Just so you know, Bright,” Bow says, surprising Bright a little and catching his attention. He hands Daniel a lego, which the little one accepts with a toothy smile. “Hurt Wynn and I will hurt you. He is not as strong as you think he is. He is probably more vulnerable than you. And I will never forgive you if you destroy him. Ever.”
Bright doesn’t have a response to the warning words other than silence. How can he, when he cannot promise something he will easily break?
Bow does not speak again.
***
Bright never waits. He hates waiting.
Waiting takes away the meaning behind his need to flee. Waiting allows him to stay still, contemplating about things he doesn’t want to spend time thinking about.
But here he is, waiting.
Bright knows Wynn will come home regardless of what happened this morning. He always does. The other man has this strong grasp of home. He values home. He will always come home.
Bright spends the whole day thinking about everything including his feelings, picking up every single thought he needs from among his cloudy mind just to come up with a decision.
And he has. And he needs to tell Wynn.
Bright doesn’t have to wait long though because Wynn is true to his words. He arrives home early and brings dinner.
Wynn tries to act normally, but Bright can see that even with the others in the room, the tension between them is affecting the other man. Wynn’s smile has always been wide for the people he cares about, but this time, his eyes are full of conflicting emotions, invalidating the smile he is wearing. Wynn tries to laugh at Daniel’s antics, but it sounds so hollow he could have been mourning instead.
The look Bow casts him after dinner reminds Bright of his earlier words: He is not as strong as you think he is.
Bow is wrong. Bright knows. Bright knows that Wynn is not as strong.
And this is the reason why he needs to tell the other man.
***
“You’re leaving.”
Bright hears him before he can feel the other join him on the balcony. But this time, instead of sitting across from him, Wynn remains standing, leaning against the glass door.
There’s silence for a long time. And it’s when Bright realizes that Wynn is waiting for him to speak.
But Bright can’t seem to form the words he wants to say. He wants to give Wynn a reply, but nothing comes out from his mouth. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know if he needs to say anything.
It’s a statement. Wynn knows he will leave even before he says it.
“I don’t expect you to stay, Bright, but I want to know why,” Wynn continues, his voice too even for Bright to decipher what he’s really feeling. And this scares the latter. Because he doesn’t like this version of Wynn.
Too cold. Too unfeeling.
But there’s Wynn’s Why. How can Bright even answer that? His desire has always been unfathomable by logic. All he knows is that he needs to feel it. The freedom. Or else he will disintegrate and cease to exist.
“Wynn, I can’t—”
Wynn cuts him off, his voice steady and quiet, yet there’s a hardness to it that makes Bright feel like he’s talking to that first version of Wynn.
“No. Don’t tell me you can’t. I already know you can’t stay. But–Bright. I cannot, will not let you leave unless you have a proper reason for breaking my family’s hearts.”
His words effectively shut Bright’s mouth.
“Have you?” He hears Win add with a soft, cold chuckle. “Have you even thought about the hearts you’ll be breaking when you leave?”
Bright has no proper response to that.
“Daniel and Mia—they will be devastated. And Bow… I don’t even know what will happen to him once you’re not here to make his children happy. As much as I hate to admit it, you have become a part of this family and you leaving will destroy whatever changes that occurred.”
“And you?” Bright doesn’t know why of all the questions, he asks that. But he feels like he has to. He has to know. “When I leave, Wynn–what will happen to you?”
“Fuck, I don’t understand you,” Wynn replies with another bitter chuckle. “You never give straight answers and instead you ask questions to justify the answers that only exist inside your head. You are so unfair, you know that?”
“That’s what I am. That’s who I am. That’s what I am capable of giving.”
Wynn shakes his head. “Don’t… just don’t.” He pauses for a few seconds as if to compose himself, before he starts speaking again in that manner that Bright hates. “I won’t pretend I get you. I’m tired, Bright. Just… tired. And if these are the kinds of answers I will receive from you, I don’t think we have more to talk about.”
“Wynn, I—”
“I’m not having this anymore, Bright,” Wynn says quietly. “If you want to leave, leave. I just request that you do it while the children are sleeping. Good night.” He turns his back on him.
“Wynn, wait!” Bright abruptly stands up from the floor, almost slipping in the process. “Please…. Please wait.”
Wynn stops but doesn’t turn around.
“I’m… I’m leaving—” Bright starts. “Really soon.”
“I know,” Wynn says.
“No, you don’t. You think—”
“I do. You’re leaving because of your flighty feet or whatever you call your thirst for flying or leaving. And then you seem to have a habit of breaking people’s hearts in the process.”
It was a low blow, and Bright feels it hit him a thousand times.
“No, you don’t,” Bright replies, his tone revealing the hurt he feels because of the words that came out of Wynn’s mouth, shaking his head even though Wynn cannot see it. “Listen to me. You have to listen to me so I can explain.”
A sigh. “Then explain.”
“I’m not just leaving because of the same old reasons,” Bright starts, his voice so soft he wonders if Wynn can even hear him. “I’m leaving because… because I think I… I think I love you.”
And there it goes. Bright finally says the words.
The words that had once chased him away.
***
Wynn remains quiet, but Bright knows he needs to keep talking or else he will not get another chance.
“Love—it’s not for me, Wynn,” Bright says, his voice as painful as the throbbing in his heart. “But… it happened. And I need to leave before it destroys us.”
“Destroy us?” Wynn finally replies. “Destroy us or destroy you?”
“Wynn, it’s… complicated.”
“It isn’t. But you are making it complicated.”
“I’m not wired to love, Win!” Bright says with desperation. “I leave. I always leave. I… you know I can’t stay, Wynn. I can’t stay. I can never stay.”
Wynn finally turns around and smiles at him. Bitterly.
“You know, Bow tells me I am selfish. But now, I think I can tell him how wrong he is. I am not selfish. You are selfish.”
“I just admitted I love you and you call me selfish?” Bright asks, his voice surprisingly still even when he is dying inside. “If I’m selfish, I would run away without telling you my feelings. And I will stay and just allow it to destroy us both until it chases me away.”
This time, Bright receives a laugh. His confession is answered by a harsh, cold laugh that pierces through his already conflicted flighty soul.
“That’s not love,” Wynn says to his face without flinching. “Because love is supposed to be enough to make you stay. But here you are trying your best to leave. So leave. Leave and don’t ever come back.”
And then he is gone.
Bright its back down on the balcony floor, the very last of his strength leaving him. He doesn’t notice the tears that start to run down the smoothness of his cheeks as he stares at the night sky, which seems to be mourning with him.
For the first time in his life, Bright silently curses the day that he had allowed his wings to spread so he could freely fly.
Because right now, all he wants to do is clip them so he can freely fall.
***
Bow corners Bright.
“It must have gone wrong.”
Bright knows Wynn’s brother is referring to the supposed confrontation. The flat affect victim seems to care more than he should be able to. Bright wonders if it is contagious. Because after the pain he felt last night, he just feels numb as if he lost the ability to feel.
“Yes,” Bright hums.
“That’s why you’re still leaving,” Bow declares as he sits on the couch opposite his, offering Bright a glass of water, which he takes.
“Yes,” Bright quietly responds.
“Why do you keep on leaving? Are you, by any chance, running away from something or someone?”
Bright shakes his head. “I’m not running away from something or someone, Bow. It’s the opposite actually.” A half-truth.
“So is this simply another I-need-to-find-myself situation? Soul searching?”
“That’s not the case at all,” says Bright with a small smile. “I leave… I always leave because I need to keep being myself.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Bow says.
“I’m a wanderwhore.”
A small pause. “Excuse me, a what?”
Bright chuckles humorlessly. “I have flighty feet,” he explains, emphasizing the words. “I can’t stay put. I can’t remain… still. I need to leave and continue walking, running, or whatever you will call it, or else I’ll go insane.” He sighs, seemingly as tired as how his explanation looks. “I can’t… I just can’t stop, Bow. I don’t expect you to understand. But I feel… incarcerated whenever I stay at a particular place for a long time. I feel… chained. I always feel the need to fly. And just by myself.”
“I still don’t understand,” Bow admits. “How will you… I mean… don’t you have any plans of settling down somewhere? I mean–”
Bright shakes his head, his fists clenching. “I don’t know. I can’t feel at home anywhere. Maybe if I feel it, I’ll stay.”
“And this?” Bow asks. “With Daniel, Mia, me, and… Wynn? Isn’t this home for you?”
Bright freezes at the question, but he easily rearranges his features to try and mask it.
“It is home for you,” Bow concludes when Bright fails to respond. “Then why are you leaving us?”
“Because I can’t. I…” he sounds pained. “Wynn doesn’t want me to stay.”
“Bullshit.” Bow slowly walks towards the other man and sits at the coffee table, fully facing him. Without second-guessing his urge, he reaches for Bright’s hands and holds them between his own. Bright feels his hand shake for a bit, but immediately relaxes when Bow squeezes them.
“Bright,” he begins cautiously. “What are you going to do?” Bow asks.
“I will leave,” Bright whispers. “I need to. That’s the best way for all of us to continue without anyone being left behind.” He smiles at Bow. “I hate endings, Bow. I can only go on and on and on and never stop. That’s who I am. That’s what I am.”
Wynn
Wynn has never fallen in love.
He’s seen people fall in love. He’s seen his parents. He’s seen Bow. And while he understood its general meaning, he hasn’t felt it.
He had ex-girlfriends, flings, one-night stands with men and women, but he never used his heart to dictate his actions. Not once. So he is unfamiliar with such an idiosyncratic concept.
But this—this tender feeling inside his chest must be love. Because it won’t hurt so much if it’s not.
Wynn falls asleep with his hand on his chest, trying to appease the pain that cannot be soothed by mere physical comfort.
***
Wynn wakes up to the smell of bacon and eggs—a smell that would have put him in a good mood. But he knows Bow doesn’t cook and that can only mean one thing.
Wynn refuses to meet Bright’s gaze as he enters the spacious kitchen. Daniel and Mia greet him with a kiss on the cheek. Bow is there too, looking surprisingly fresh for someone who doesn’t care much about his physical appearance.
“Good morning, Bro,” Bow greets in that indifferent tone of his. He pats the seat next to him, motioning for Wynn to occupy it. Wynn nods, but proceeds to the counter first to get himself a cup of coffee.
Bright is there, standing stiff. From the prickly feeling in his skin, he knows Bright is staring at him. But Wynn doesn’t give the other man the satisfaction. He walks past Bright without acknowledging his presence. It pains him to act this way, but it pains him more to know that Bright is just right there, and that soon enough, he won’t be.
Bright flinches at the gesture. Wynn sees it. But he stops himself from reacting because he is hurting too. If it’s difficult for Bright, it’s also difficult for him.
Wynn sits beside Bow and starts serving himself with the hearty breakfast. He eats quietly, ignoring the looks everyone else is giving him. The room feels empty with the combined forces of silence and tension, and even the kids feel it though they don’t understand the sudden presence of such a suffocating atmosphere.
“I’ll bring Daniel and Mia to school,” Wynn declares after a few minutes of stillness. He says it to no one in particular even though it’s obvious it’s for Bright.
“I thought Bright is bringing them to school,” Bow declares, his usually cold voice cutting through the tension like a hot steel. “Bright usually does it these days, what changed?”
Wynn stands up. “Nothing. It’s just better if things get back to normal.” He pauses. “And fast.” It’s a jab, and the three of them know it.
“Dan, Mia, are you done?” Wynn asks, turning his attention to his niece and nephew, who are both oblivious to what’s happening around them.
“I’m done, Uncle Wynn!” Daniel replies as he hops off his chair. Mia throws her brother a glare before standing with more grace like the little lady that she is.
“I’m ready too, Uncle Wynn,” she replies with a more subdued tone.
“Let’s go then,” Wynn declares before turning towards Bow. “I’m bringing home dinner for us. See you later.”
Bow simply nods. “Am I not getting my kiss?” he asks, his attention on his children.
This catches Wynn off-guard—since when has Bow started getting this sweet to his kids? He watches it unfold right in front of his eyes, aware of the sudden ache it brings to his chest.
Daniel approaches Bow first and throws himself at his father without any hesitation. Bow holds him close for a few seconds before planting a kiss on his forehead and letting him go. Then he motions for Mia to come to him.
Mia is a surprise to Wynn. She used to be so wary of Bow. But now, the little girl simply smiles and hops towards his father, giving him a tight embrace that a daughter only reserves for the first man in his life. Bow plants the same kiss on her forehead before releasing him from his arms.
Right then, right at that very moment, Wynn understands the feeling. He recognizes that the dull ache in his chest is nothing but happiness. It presents itself in a melancholic form, but it’s still happiness.
His family is all right. His family will be all right. It’s all he needs in his life.
“I’ll see you later, dorks,” Bow says. Wynn witnesses as Daniel and Mia’s expressions both light up at the simple words.
As they say goodbye to Bright, Wynn throws his brother a grateful look, which Bow acknowledges with a verbal answer.
“They’re my children, Wynn, and I’m their father,” Bow says. “It’s time for me to act like it. Go. You’ll be late.”
Wynn gives him a short nod before he leaves the kitchen with the two children holding each of his hands. They’re almost out of the door when he hears hurried footsteps behind them.
“Wynn—”
Fuck, not now, he thinks. He chooses to ignore the voice and tells Daniel and Mia to hurry out of the door.
“Wynn, please.” The voice sounds pained. It sounds broken. It sounds so lost.
Just like him.
But he still ignores it.
As Wynn walks away, he feels an unexplainable hollowness inside his chest.
Wynn feels like he just lost his heart.
***
They say that love makes one do stupid things.
Wynn can feel their eyes on him as he picks up the spilt cup of coffee and hastily throws it inside the garbage can. It’s his fourth cup in just two hours, and the second one he spilled.
He’s obviously having a shitty day. The moment he steps inside the café this morning, it is felt by everyone—from the stiff way he greets Jared to the curt nods he grants his employees.
He’s taking it out on them. And while he is aware of this, Wynn cannot find it in himself to care.
He shouts at Val thrice, and glares at Jared a lot. While Jared is used to his occasional bursts of temper tantrums, Val is not. Wynn has a suspicion that the girl is currently crying her heart out in the backroom.
Wynn wants to punch himself. He has never acted this way before. He is usually a rational man who knows how to manage his temper. But things in his life are currently turning into something he cannot control. Losing his grip is something he is not used to and it’s bugging him.
It’s making him restless.
Wynn picks up the mop resting against the wall and wordlessly hands it to Jared before proceeding at the baking area.
What’s happening to me?
The baking area is as usual, clean. Reeve, his pastry chef, is obsessed with cleanliness and it’s not a surprise to him to see how everything is well-organized.
Wynn walks towards the table and inspects the newly baked pastries. He can feel Reeve’s eyes on him as he waits for something cooking in the oven.
“Where are the mini apple pies?” Wynn asks.
“We only have them on Fridays,” Reeve responds, his tone telling Wynn that he finds his question odd. “We have mini peach pies today.”
Wynn looks at him, his expression grim. “Make one.”
Reeve lifts a brow. “No. I have more things to bake and it’s not on the menu for today. We don’t even have fresh apples right now. What the heck is happening to you, Boss Man?”
Wynn shakes his head, avoiding the question. “Just make one, Reeve. This is my café and I’ll have anything I want.”
“You’re acting like a five-year-old brat right now,” the pastry chef says icily. “No. I will not do it. I don’t have time to run to the grocery just to indulge your stupid whim. Have one of the mango turnovers.”
“I don’t care, just make one, Reeve!” Wynn shouts. “And I hate mangoes!” Damn it, he thinks. “Why can’t you just all give me back my fucking control?” he asks, clearly sounding frustrated.
Reeve shakes his head, obviously unaffected by the outburst from his boss, and lightly pushes Wynn to the corner where a small stool is located. “Sit.”
Wynn allows himself to fall to the corner chair while Reeve simply stares at his boss, his arms crossed in front of him, watching Wynn turn his sour mood on him.
“Scream at me, Reeve,” Wynn says in a surprisingly calm voice as he meets Reeve’s gaze. “Or hit me, whichever you think you can give harder.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m acting stupid and immature, and I can’t help it.”
Reeve simply leans against the counter. “I will not do that, Boss Brat. That’s a coward’s way out. You want me to do the nasty thing for you—hell, no. Face your fucking problem like a man. You’ve been terrorizing your staff all afternoon.”
Wynn cannot even utter a protest at that. Reeve shakes his head and turns towards the entrance to the kitchen. “Jared!” he shouts.
Within a few seconds, the tall barista enters the kitchen, confusion on his face. He looks more confused upon seeing Reeve and Wynn.
“Er… what’s happening?”
“I don’t even want to explain,” Reeve sighs. “Just be a darling and bring Boss Man here back to his hell hole. Arwin and Val can handle the counter for a while,” he says.
Jared nods and walks towards the frustrated-looking Wynn, pulling at his arm. “Come on, Boss Man,” he says. “You’ve already made Bhel cry this morning. It won’t do you any good to roam around the shop with that gloomy cloud above your head. It’s bad for business and you know it.”
Wynn nods dejectedly. He mutters an apology to Reeve before he allows himself to be pulled away.
He cannot understand himself anymore.
***
Wynn immediately collapses on his chair and covers his face with his hands upon entering the office. He hears Jared close the door and he knows the young man hasn’t left him.
“What’s wrong, Boss?”
Wynn wants to laugh—he just asked himself that question. He could have shrugged off the inquiry, but Jared looks at him with those innocent eyes of his. The young man wears puppy dog eyes even better than Daniel, and Wynn just finds himself telling him everything right from the start.
“So?” Jared asks after Wynn is finished narrating what happened. He will not admit it, but letting that out makes his chest feel lighter somehow. Love really is a heavy burden to carry.
God, even my thoughts are turning cheesy.
“What do you mean by so?” Wynn asks, sounding exasperated. “Bright is leaving, Jared. I don’t even know if he will ever come back. Or if he even wants to come back.”
“But you just told me Bright admitted he loves you.”
Wynn chuckles gravely. “Yes. And it’s not enough to make him stay. Is that even love? Isn’t love supposed to make you stay with the one you love?”
It’s Jared’s turn to laugh. But his is more melodious, musical, good-natured–an exact opposite of Wynn’s laugh.
“Boss, I don’t think you understand love at all.”
Wynn looks at him skeptically, but Jared just shakes his head with a small smile.
“Love is complex. It’s a complicated abstract that doesn’t have a precise explanation. It’s a paradox. It’s an oxymoron. It’s a metaphor. Love is meant to be felt, meant to be absorbed, and not just meant to be seen, spoken, or heard. Love will drive you crazy with contradictions, but well, that’s just the way it is. It’s sweet, but it has a bitter aftertaste. It’s warm, but it freezes your insides. It’s hard, but it makes you soft. It’s gentle, but it hits you roughly. It’s painful, yet it’s soothing.”
Wynn stays quiet. Jared is describing what he feels for Bright. He never has the right words for it, it’s starting to make sense. The chaotic feelings inside him are being defined straight to his face, and just like that, they are sorting themselves out.
“Love is difficult, Boss,” Jared says. “But once you accept it, it becomes easy to deal with.”
Does it? Will it?
“Reeve and I—it’s more difficult for us than the society-approved couples,” Jared continues with his usual cheerful smile. But while he wears the mask, Wynn can feel the sadness in his voice. “Homosexuality is still frowned upon, even though yes, people are more open to other types of love than before. Still, Reeve and I can’t do the usual things normal couples can do in public without being the center of everyone’s attention. We can’t hold hands. We can’t kiss. We can’t stay close to each other—you name it. And while Reeve and I don’t really care, the people around us care. We don’t need prodding in our lives. We don’t need their attention. So even if we do not care, we both know that it’s better for us if we reserve and express our affections in private.”
Wynn can attest to that. He has seen Reeve and Jared outside of work—they simply look like best friends bantering and making a fool of each other. He has also seen them in the company of friends. They’re more affectionate then. More free. They never let go of each other’s hands and they always stay close.
“It’s difficult, but we’re getting by. I am happy as long as I am with him. And while he is Mr. Grumpy personified—” Even Wynn smiles at this. “—I know he is happy as long as he is with me. Even our parents are starting to understand us. It’s taken them a long time, but at least we’re getting there. Who knows they might even accept us soon?”
Will this be how it’s going to be if him and Bright—
“I know what you’re thinking, Boss,” Jared says, throwing him a knowing look. “But… does it matter? Do you care? Even if no one approves?”
There is no hesitation in his response. “No. It doesn’t matter. I don’t think it ever will.”
It makes Jared smile. “See? Is it that hard?”
“How long have you two been together?”
This time, Jared blushes. Perhaps the younger man thinks he has gotten away with it. “We didn’t mean to keep it a secret, Boss. We’ve been together for two years.”
Wynn nods. It’s really none of his business. He also doesn’t care if his employees get together as long as it won’t interfere with work. Reeve and Jared are his most hardworking employees. And maybe, just maybe, he already has a hint.
“Boss,” Jared says, getting Wynn’s attention back. “nothing else matters as long as what you feel for a certain person is real. Fight for him if you know it’s worth it. Is he… worth it?”
Again, Wynn finds it easy to answer. He opens his mouth to respond, but he is stopped by sudden tentative knocks on the door. Jared gives him a sheepish, slightly disappointed smile before he opens it.
It’s Val, from the sound of it. They exchange a few words before Jared shuts the door again.
“Erm… Boss?” Jared sounds uncomfortable.
“Hmm?”
“You have a visitor.”
“What?” he asks, sounding tired and confused at the same time. “Who?”
Before Jared can respond, the door to his office opens.
“Me.”
“Bow?”
Bow nods coolly. “Yes, yes. You and our employees wear the same look. I told you this morning I will start being responsible, right?”
Wynn nods wordlessly.
“Good,” Bow says before he turns towards Jared. “They need you at the counter.”
Jared smiles and gives the brothers a small salute before leaving the room. When the door closes, Bow brings his attention back to Wynn.
“You look like shit.”
I feel like shit, Wynn wants to say, but chooses to shut his mouth.
He can feel Bow’s stare at him. His brother knows how affected he is. Bow knows him more than he knows himself.
And Bow also knows what the problem is. How does the universe bring two people together when one is afraid to need someone and the other one is afraid to be needed? How do two people end up together when one is afraid to stay and the other one is afraid to move? There are no two people more emotionally opposite than him and Bright.
And yet they both fall. Yes, as much as he wants to deny it, he cannot anymore.
He falls. He falls for Bright. He is in love with Bright.
“Talk to him, Wynn,” Bow says after a long silence. “Bright is leaving tonight. It’s time for you to think about your happiness instead of someone else’s. You can be a hero without sacrificing your own happiness, you know. Remember–even heroes are imperfect.”
Wynn has never been more scared.
***
“Can we talk?”
Wynn comes home late because of an emergency at one of his branches. Bow keeps calling him, cursing at him, and demanding that he hurry up. Luckily, he makes it just in time.
Wynn watches the surprise on Bright’s face as he processes his statement, and perhaps Wynn’s sudden presence. Bright probably doesn’t expect him to be home before he leaves.
Wynn patiently waits for the other to catch up with his thoughts. This is his last chance and he hopes Bright gives it to him.
“Okay,” Bright finally answers. His tone of voice is soft, welcoming, and Wynn feels the relief pouring through him. “Is… the balcony okay?” he asks.
“Yes, yes, please,” Wynn responds.
Bright places his backpack on the couch before he opens the sliding glass door to the balcony and steps outside. Wynn follows him without a word, but not without sending a long, probing stare at the offending object on the couch.
Wynn slides the door close behind him. He knows that Bow will not eavesdrop, but he still feels a little better knowing that there is a wall separating them from the rest of the world. He wants this between them. Only them.
Bright is already seated on the floor at the right side of the door. It’s his usual place. Wynn doesn’t know how he will be able to go to the balcony and not imagine the other man sitting there.
He sits on the other end and mimics Bright’s pose.
“Where will you go next?” Wynn begins.
Bright chuckles softly, tonelessly. “I don’t know. But that’s the beauty of it, Wynn. I always don’t know where I will end up. I’m not afraid of nowheres and anywheres. Have never really been afraid of nothings or anythings.” Bright sighs. “It’s always been that way.”
Wynn turns his head to look at Bright. He is staring at the sky again. He has always known Bright is extremely handsome, but it’s only now that he has the guts to admit such a thing. The moon illuminates the angles on Bright’s face, giving him a soft, ethereal glow that grips at his heart and at the same time soothes it.
“Bright.”
“Hmm?”
Wynn takes a deep breath. “I love you.”
He sees Bright startle at his confession, though the man doesn’t speak a word.
“I’m sorry, I was an idiot,” Wynn continues, trying his best to remain calm as he pours his heart out. “I’m sorry that instead of being honest that night, I was rude and uncaring. I was confused and I was afraid. You caught me off-guard and I panicked,” he explains. “And… well, I… and I was hurt.”
Bright finally turns towards him, the other man wearing a frown that looks out of place on his perfect features. Wynn hates it. He thinks that Bright should always smile. He has a nice smile that never fails to light up everyone’s day. His days in particular, most of the time, if he will be honest about it.
“Wynn, I—”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know that.”
Bright closes his mouth and simply watches as Wynn stands up from his place and sits beside him. Wordlessly, Bright stares at him, the other man’s eyes full of unfathomable emotions that Wynn knows he is not ready to say.
Not now. Not when Bright is leaving.
“I won’t ask you to stay, Bright,” Wynn announces with a soft smile. He lifts his hand tenderly caress Bright’s cheek as if it’s something fragile. “You’re not ready, and I respect that.”
“Wynn—” Bright’s voice quivers. He closes his eyes and lifts his hand to cover Wynn’s. The latter watches as silent tears begin to race down the man’s cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” Wynn whispers as he pulls Bright towards him. Perhaps, it’s a futile effort because the moment Bright’s face meets Wynn’s chest, he starts trembling in his arms. Bright is a large man, but he feels so small in Wynn’s arms.
Wynn holds him close. Tight. He allows the other man to let the pain flow, the pain he’s probably been carrying for years.
Wynn doesn’t cry. He will not cry. This is Bright’s moment to be vulnerable. He will not take it away from him. Bright, who’s been so strong and independent for a long time, finally breaks down.
And Wynn feels happy that he gets to be there for him when he finally does.
***
“Bright,” Wynn calls just before the other man opens the front door.
Bright does not turn around or look back, but he remains unmoving.
“Come back,” Wynn whispers. “Come back when you can stay. When you can stay for Dan and Mia. For Bow. For me.” he says. “I promise that when you come back and I feel that you’re ready to stay, then I will ask you to stay. I will give you a reason to stay.”
Bright doesn’t reply, but Wynn can see him tightly gripping the straps of his backpack.
Wynn, with a hand clutching his chest, physically tries to soothe the ache that can only be healed from inside but to no avail. With one last helpless sigh, he walks away, purposefully leaving Bright alone.
He cannot see Bright leaving him. For now, he will allow Bright to see him walking away from him.
Such is the pain of the one who leaves, and the one who is left behind.
***
“You let him go,” Bow says as he watches his brother stare at the sky. He comes out right after he hears their front door close, joining Wynn at the balcony. He is currently sitting on Bright’s usual perch.
“I did,” Wynn responds. “I can’t ask him to stay if he cannot stay. But I told him… I told him that once he is ready to stay, I will not hesitate to ask him to stay. With Daniel and Mia. With you. With me.”
“It’s going to be a pain tomorrow. You should do the explaining to Daniel and Mia. They’ve grown attached to that man,” Bow declares. “Do you think he will come back?”
Wynn turns his head to stare at his brother. “I don’t know, Bow, but–-”
Bow throws him a strange look. “But?”
Wynn smiles. “I told Bright I love him.”
“You did, huh?” Bow doesn’t sound surprised.
“I did.”
“How did it feel to say those words?”
“Liberating… painful.”
“You think it’s enough to bring him back?” Bow asks. “To you? To us?”
Wynn has no answer to that. It’s not his to answer.
Bright is the only one who can decide when he is finally ready to have his wings clipped.
2gether the Movie: A Review
2gether the Movie: A Review
Ratings: 5/5 Stars
Directors: Noppharnach Chaiwimol, Kanittha Kwanyu, Weerachit Thongjila
Main Cast: Vachirawit Chivaaree, Metawin Opas-Iamkajorn
Story: Based from เพราะเรา … คู่กัน by JittiRain
Disclaimer: This is an informal movie review, devoid of structure and some elements of a professional movie review. This is simply a string of comments from a fan who loves 2gether and the actors playing the main characters.
It is not just a case of destiny, but also a case of chemistry and an honest-to-goodness, feel-good story. Not to mention there is that subtle emotional kick that hits randomly all throughout the movie, forcing the audience to do a massive organ inventory.
2gether is a story about two young men falling in love for real after faking a relationship to save one of them from a persistent suitor. It’s a tale about love at first sight, unconditional love, and how gender is not a hindrance to finding what one’s heart wants.
The Movie starts with Tine Teepakorn Aekaranwong getting ready for what seems to be a special occasion. Seconds later, Sarawat Guntithanon, Tine’s partner, steps into the frame and asks his boyfriend about what he’s feeling. And from then on, a series of flashbacks starts, bringing the audience back to where it all begins.
And this is where everything makes sense.
2gether the Series is from the POV of Tine, which gives us a one-sided glimpse of the scenes, except perhaps during that confession in the bus wherein Sarawat bares all. 2gether the Movie is both from Tine’s and Wat’s POV, and it includes inner monologues that fill the gaps in the series—it’s what makes the movie different.
But let’s break it down one by one.
The Actors and Main Characters
Tine, played by versatile actor Metawin “Win” Opas-Iamkajorn, is a tall, handsome student under the Faculty of Law and a self-proclaimed ‘chic’ boy who makes it his ultimate goal to find a girlfriend, only to end up being chased instead by Green, another male student under the Faculty of Humanities. He seeks the help of cold, introvert Sarawat Guntithanon, the university’s talented heartthrob, whose character is brought to life by the effortless acting of Vachirawit “Bright” Chiva-aree.
Sarawat and Tine have been portrayed excellently by Bright and Win, and the movie will convince the audience just how perfectly they play these characters. That there will be no other actors who could have played these two characters better than them. Sarawat and Tine have become Bright and Win; and Bright and Win have become Sarawat and Tine.
Each expression or each gesture that has been shown in the Series that perhaps has an ambiguous or vague impression, makes total sense in the Movie. It’s like finally finding the missing pieces that will help decipher the codes, and it feels so good knowing that all hunches and thoughts are valid.
And there is that chemistry. One has to be blind not to see it or has to be numb not to feel it. All Bright and Win have to do is to stand beside each other for that chemistry to overflow and catch everyone off-guard who isn’t expecting it. The main actors’ chemistry plays a huge role in the success of the series, its special episodes, and the movie. There is just something about the two of them that makes even the smallest scene explode with sparks.
Perhaps it’s because there has always been little to no fanservice between them, making way for other people to witness the real bond between them. And that bond is what makes them special because they seem to protect it with all they have.
It’s natural and unscripted. It’s vague, but solid. It’s visible, but unidentifiable. It’s not a secret, but it’s private. Whatever it is, it’s a bond that transcends work and will not be easily shattered by naysayers or detractors.
Bright and Win – they deserve a new BL couple series. That chemistry needs to be flaunted out there again, perhaps not just on the small screen, but also on the big screen again.
Musical Score and Editing
One of the notable things worthy of laud in the movie is the musical score.
While the series and its special episodes have the best OST (they’re the stars in my Spotify account), the movie can really boast about its musical score.
The background music is amazing, and always plays during the best cuts where it should be played. This highlights some scenes more, bringing out the best in every word spoken and every emotion shown.
The music is always on point, adding to the sentimentality of each scene, making the viewer feel as if they’re right there along with the characters, experiencing the same things.
It is also noteworthy to talk about the story flow. The fluidity of the storyboard is evident, with no awkward cuts or unnecessary scenes. It’s a short, clear-cut way of narrating a beautiful love story between men, without overwhelming the viewer with information.
And finally, there is the addition of the inner thoughts—both from Tine and Wat. The inner monologues have redefined the story so much. And the best thing about it? The revelation about Tine’s feelings. It turns out Tine is as whipped as Sarawat all along, and that hits straight to the heart of every fan who has always thought that it’s just Sarawat who has been feeling such deep emotions in the beginning.
Other Points
- Their love for vintage – simple things that last long, increasing their value overtime. In Still 2gether, Wat traded his BMW for a Vespa motorcycle. It might not be convenient for long drives, but it’s the perfect transportation for him and Tine. And for the movie, they own a Mini Cooper. Vintage vehicles hold a lot of memories—the longer they stay in one’s mind and heart, the more precious they become. It’s a perfect symbolism for the SarawatTine couple.
- The expressions of the people closest to them (i.e. P’Dim’s expression when SarawatTine are doing the pocky challenge or his expression when Green joins the Music Club). These tiny additions will make you understand why the characters of the series in that particular scene act that way in the series.
- The chemistry between the cast. 2gether is a story crafted by the mind of JittiRain and brought to life by amazing actors. From 2gether to Still 2gether to 2gether the Movie—it has been obvious how the relationship between everyone is so healthy that the chemistry just flows naturally from the screen. Everyone just seems to get along well. The characters and the story become a part of people’s lives because they have become family—probably one of the reasons for 2gether’s magic.
- The directors and the production staff. Directors who take care of their actors will always bring out the best in them. As evident, 2gether has the best directors who took their time getting to know the actors with the characters. It’s no wonder why there is consistency and quality in the production, even if the movie seems to be a spur-of-the-moment decision from the management.
Which finally leads to this—
To those who are hesitant to give 2gether the Series a try, the Movie can be your… test. It’s 2gether the Series’ and Still 2gether’s key scenes combined in a two-hour show and complemented by new scenes that flawlessly tie Sarawat and Tine’s story in a neat bind.
The Movie fills the gaps in the Series, resulting to a full story that touches every fan’s heart, leaving no room for doubts when it comes to the love shared between two people of the same gender identity yet of different sexual orientations.
2gether the Movie is NOT just a duplicate or a repeat of 2gether the Series, but rather a supplementary masterpiece that completes it, giving way to a more in-depth understanding of each character’s actions and emotions and revealing the full contextual meaning of every scene.
Some say that plot-wise, it’s not the best BL series out there. Perhaps, that’s right. 2gether’s plot is simple and light.
But a story doesn’t need to be complicated to be beautiful. A story just needs to speak to its audience, and that’s what 2gether and its cast and crew manage to deliver in spades.
For Filipino fans, you can watch 2gether the Movie via online streaming platforms. This is not a paid advertisement. I just want to support Bright and Win, Sarawat and Tine, and the series that gave us them.
Links:
https://www.upstream.ph/content/vod/2gether-the-movie/61fd0bf0a3bb0651fb443bb2
https://www.ktx.ph/category/2gether-the-movie-for-philippine-territory-only
CHAPTER 4 – HOVER
Bright
His life as a wanderwhore teaches him two truths.
First truth. Life is cruel. People don’t really care how it manipulates and destroys a person as long as they will not be involved in it. Most people will always save themselves before others. Survival is human nature.
And there’s the second truth, which Bright still hasn’t mastered–the involvement of feelings. A wanderwhore should never feel. Once feelings start to get involved, the wanderwhore life is doomed to end.
Bright grows up with the finest things money can buy. His father made it big in the oil business years ago, securing a future for him and for the next generations to come. His mother, on the other hand, is a famed plastic surgeon. Her clients range from well-known celebrities and models to bored, rich housewives. She is also a socialite. If she doesn’t give parties, she attends one. She is in every famous person’s VIP guest list.
But despite all of these conveniences in life, their family is different from most rich families. Unlike the stereotypical elite ones wherein parents are too busy for their kids, Bright’s parents always make sure to spend time with their two children, Mika and Bright, who, despite their five-year age gap, are very close.
Bright has an ideal family set-up. His parents and his older sister have never been the problem with what’s going on inside him.
It has always been him. Bright has always been afraid of the concept of home.
Home. Home is permanence. Home is steady. Home is stability. Home is static. And it’s a curse for someone whose soul is restless, whose soul craves for freedom all the time.
Bright is a flighty soul. He has the biggest pair of itchy feet.
Bright’s family—he loves them so much—but they’re not enough to contain his soul. The silent whirlwind of emotions inside him is too difficult to contain even by love. It’s overflowing. It’s massive. It will take a strong, steady force to subdue the limitless craving for possibilities.
This doesn’t happen overnight. Even as a kid, Bright already possesses the restless winged feet. At the tender age of five, he has probably broken most rules that are actually set to control teenagers: curfew, the choice of friends, and proper etiquette a young man from their society should have memorized since birth.
Choice of friends. Bright still finds himself smiling whenever he thinks about his first friends. They’re not the typical pals a kid is expected to hang out with.
Bright’s first friends are far from who society thinks as normal. One will typically think his first friends will be the neighbor’s son or daughter, but instead he meets them at a park a few blocks away from their home called The Woods.
Hagis and his wife Lupita are caretakers in said park. They are Bright’s first friends.
Hagis looks like a villain waiting for a stupid teenager to come near him so he can slash his or her throat. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, with a beard that could rival a hermit’s, and a nasty, lopsided grin. Lupita on the other hand looks normal, but there is something swirling in the depths of her eyes that will scare anyone. She looks like she can see into someone’s soul and tell the person his or her deepest darkest thoughts.
Bright has never cared about their looks. He is drawn to them the moment he first sees them.
They become Bright’s only friends in the neighborhood. He is often a visitor in their small bungalow at the edge of The Woods and they always served him tea and biscuits.
Hagis is actually a jolly man while Lupita is really weird, but in a… motherly kind of way. She often tells Bright that she can see his future– that Bright is destined to fly away as high as he wants, but with a clipped wing.
Bright doesn’t understand the ambiguous words, but he understands that Lupita is a woman of substance despite her oddities. He always keeps in mind the words that come out from her mouth. But the most memorable one will probably be Lupita’s last words just before she and Hagis leave town for an opportunity given to her husband: when you can’t take the flight, allow yourself to fall. There’s nothing wrong with falling, and risking whether someone will catch you or not.
Falling and risking—they don’t scare Bright. On the contrary, they become the essence of his being. A guide that allows him to navigate through life with a different approach than most people his age.
When Bright becomes a teenager, something in him stirs harder than ever. The constant need for change engulfs him whole. He can’t go to school like a normal kid because he always cuts classes. He’s often restless and just can’t keep still or stay in one room for long hours, doing the same things over and over again. He always feels the need to leave and be somewhere else instead. It’s a struggle for him to stay put for an hour or two, what more for three or more?
After a few mishaps in school, his parents finally decide to homeschool him until high school. Bright’s parents hire a tutor, who teaches him the whole day. His classes have an interval of an hour for every subject, perfect for someone like Bright.
College has been more tolerable for Bright. The experience has given Bright a better understanding of life. He has learned to curb the fierce instinct to flee at random times. He also starts to communicate better with people. Life is learned best through experience, and college has provided him that.
It doesn’t mean the need to fly has diminished. It’s still there, just lurking behind the surface, waiting for an opportunity to manifest itself again.
Which happens on the first day of his first job.
Bright is hired at a marketing firm as an associate. The tasks are manageable, but it’s the way they’re being handled that gets to him. There are processes for everything, even for the simplest task. Bright cannot work on a project without limitations and rules, and it begins to overwhelm him. He begins to feel restricted. Until he feels like his hands are fully tied and can no longer move. The struggle to be free from everything gnaws at him, forcing him to finally shake the shackles that have been holding him prisoner.
Bright’s parents witness the sudden breakdown. Bright’s sister feels it worse than anyone else.
So with a heavy heart, they let him scratch the itch. They allow Bright to leave.
“Leave,” Mika had told him. “Leave, travel, go everywhere, anywhere… but promise to come back. Because no matter how much it scares you, home is home, Bright. You need a home. Even if it’s not with us, there will come a time that you will have to stay somewhere. Be somewhere.”
“How will I know?” Bright asks her. He has experienced the feeling of wanting to stay somewhere or wanting to stay for something.
Mika hugs him. It’s more difficult for her to do it now when he’s six foot tall, but Bright hugs her back like a little child.
“I have no exact answer to a subjective abstract, Bright. That will always be up to you. All I know is that when you come back on your own, you are probably ready to stay and call something your home.”
Bright chuckles at the memory. Mika has always been the smarter one between them.
Stay. Such a simple word with an ambiguous meaning, and Bright hasn’t found its meaning for him yet. He’s not sure if he even will.
“Bright!”
“Bright!”
Bright turns his head to meet the owners of the voices he has gotten used to hearing in the past few weeks. He smiles and stands up from the wooden bench to meet Daniel and Mia, who are running towards him, their backpacks bobbing up and down as they do so.
Daniel reaches Bright first, immediately launching himself on him. Bright picks him up like he weighs nothing. Daniel embraces him and buries his face on his neck, surprising Bright. The urge to push the boy away starts to consume him, but thank goodness he is able to suppress it.
“How’s school?” Bright asks as he awkwardly pats Daniel’s head with his free hand.
“It’s good!” Daniel says, lifting his head so he can look at Bright in the eyes. He sounds enthusiastic. “We made drawings today! I drawed a tree!”
“It’s drew, not drawed,” Mia corrects him. Daniel ignores her, which he seems to often do lately every time his sister corrects him.
“Bright, where’s Uncle Wynn?” Daniel asks instead, burying his face on Bright’s neck again.
“Wynn is busy today,” Bright replies. Wynn is supposed to pick them up today, but he texts Bright at the last minute, asking him to do it instead. The café is serving a large group of people for an event, and the other man’s hands are full the whole day. “Are you disappointed I fetched you?”
Daniel shakes his head. “No. But Uncle Wynn promised he’d bring us to the café today. Will you bring us there?”
“Really?” Bright hasn’t been to the café, and he has never felt the need to ask more about it. But he’s lying if he says he isn’t curious about what is keeping his employer busy all the time.
Bright catches Mia’s eyes. The little girl is looking at him with that cute, expectant look that should be considered illegal.
“Uncle Wynn did,” she says, tone almost begging. “And I want to see Jared. And I want to eat Reeve’s cake. Please, Bright,” she says. “Please bring us there.”
“Please, Bright,” Daniel whispers while playing with the hood of Bright’s jacket. “I want a chocolate shake.”
Oh God. Bright should learn how to say no to these two. Wynn, and even Bow, has warned him about the convincing power of the children. At first, he doesn’t take it seriously, but when the two kids start using it, Bright is taken aback by what they can make him do. The charm always works on the young man, making him succumb all the time. He knows Wynn wants to call him on it, but the other man is not faring any better. Wynn is worse when it comes to the two kids.
Speaking of Wynn. For the past few nights that they’ve been talking, Bright is starting to understand him. Wynn has many layers, and he manages to unsheath a few of them. Although there is that certain moroseness which seems to make him complex, Bright’s employer is actually easy to understand.
Wynn loves the feeling of being needed, of being useful. He takes pride in being someone else’s pillar. The man will not admit it, but the pride in his voice can’t be concealed whenever he tells Bright about how he works hard for his family.
It may not look like they have the best sibling relationships, but Wynn loves it that his parents left Bow in his care. He also loves it that he gets to provide for Daniel and Mia like a proper parental figure.
But, there is also one small catch. A flaw in the system Wynn has established on himself.
He doesn’t want to need someone. A paradox that makes sense. Bright understands contradictions the most. He is, after all, one himself.
“Bright!”
Bright almost drops Daniel. “What?”
“Let’s go!” Mia says, pulling at Bright’s hand. “We’ll take a cab! Hurry, Bright!”
No just hangs on Bright’s lips. It’s once again never uttered.
***
Literally Coffeeholic.
“Apt,” Bright mumbles, quite amused at the name of the café. The owner is literally a workaholic and a coffee addict. While the man prefers tea at night, Wynn consumes coffee during the day like it’s nobody’s business. The other man is the very embodiment of the café he owns.
“It’s big, isn’t it?” Mia asks, her eyes twinkling. “Uncle Wynn owns this. And there are many more like this in other places, Bright. Uncle Wynn owns many like this! He is riiiiiiiiicch.” She sounds proud, and it makes Bright smile.
“It is big,” he agrees. “And impressive too.”
Bright allows himself to be pulled inside.
***
The divine smell of coffee intermingling with the smell of pastries and pasta, passes through Bright’s nose as they enter the cozy establishment.
The shop is all glass, except for the back walls and one side wall. From the outside, one can see the dainty interior of the café. The concrete walls are covered with wallpapers that look like giant pages torn from books, which Bright feels is really very creative and classy. Bright can make out a few of her favorite quotes from both classic and modern writers.
I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. Henry David Thoreau.
Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail. Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties. John Milton. The blind man’s words have always been a favorite of his.
“Oh,” Bright quietly snickers when his eyes land upon another quote. This one from a modern writer: JK Rowling. The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware. “Someone’s a Harry Potter fan,” he mumbles before letting his eyes trail on other quotes. He can see Thomas Elliot, Shakespeare, John Green, and Charlotte Brontë.
“Bright?”
“Bright!”
Bright looks at Mia. The little girl is pouting at him and tapping a foot impatiently. Daniel on the other hand is just giggling.
“I’m sorry,” Bright apologizes sincerely. Spacing out is a habit of his.
“Ah. So you’re the new sitter.”
Bright extricates his gaze from Mia to meet the owner of the voice. He is leaning over the counter, staring at him with those soulful green eyes.
“Oh… hello,” Bright nods awkwardly. He’s really not good at first impressions. It doesn’t seem to faze the other man though as a smile brightens his face.
“I’m Jared, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Bright,” he says, extending his hand for Bright to shake. Bright smiles easily at the easygoing greeting and shakes Jared’s hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Bright quips, feeling a little relieved at the other’s pleasant personality. “And yes, I am the new sitter to these pain-in-the-peach kids.”
“It’s not peach,” Daniel giggles. “It’s butt.”
“Dan!” Mia immediately her younger brother for the use of an adult word. “This is Pa-Bow’s fault,” Bright hears her whisper.
The smile falls from Bright’s face at the mention of the name. From the way Jared grimaces, it seems like everyone knows who Bow is too. Yet, no one talks further about the subject.
“Soooo…” Jared says, diverting the attention away from Bow. “What can we get our little bosses and their new friend?”
Mia actually blushes, and Bright thinks this is the telltale sign of an innocent crush. Wynn has made the right choice in hiring Jared. This young man can charm anyone out of their pants, including kids.
“I want cheesake!” Daniel says with a smile, pointing at the Raspberry Cheesecake.
“It’s cheesecake,” Mia corrects, but once again, Daniel ignores her. The little girl sighs and timidly points at the triple chocolate delight. “I want the chocolate one, please. And… and can I get a cup of hot chocolate too?”
Jared winks at her. “Anything for milady.” Mia’s blush intensifies, making her look more adorable. Jared turns towards Bright. “And you, Bright?”
“Oh,” Bright shakes his head. “I… I don’t want anything.”
Jared frowns. “It’s free, Bright. You’re the boss’s family.” Bright wants to cringe at the mention of the word. “Right, boss?”
Huh. Right, boss? Right—
“Hey.”
Bright turns around. Wynn is really standing there, looking at the spectacle happening in front of him. He is wearing his work mask, the kind that intimidates people. But the way his eyes soften tells Bright he is quite pleased that they’re here.
The children, he quickly corrects himself, not even bothering to ask why he needs to do so.
Shrugging off the thoughts that start to plague his mind, Bright watches as Daniel and Mia run towards Wynn. The older guy immediately goes down to his knees just as the two launch themselves at him. Both he and Jared watch fondly as the two kids start telling Wynn about their day in school.
“They’re so adorable,” Jared whispers.
Bright nods his head in agreement. “They are.”
“And boss loves them so much,” Jared adds. “He’s a softy when it comes to them. And less of a slave driver when they’re here.” The last statement is uttered loudly, causing Wynn to glare at his staff. Jared simply laughs and starts preparing the food the children requested.
“You were busy today,” Bright says.
“Yup,” Jared says. “We had an event. It was a small event at the function room upstairs. There were just about ten people. But the customer was a bit… demanding and wanted the attention of every staff member.” He rolls his eyes, making Bright chuckle. “Then of course, there’s the typical crowd. The café was quite full an hour ago too so we’re really up to our elbows.”
“I see.”
“Bright,” Jared says, placing the tray of cakes and pastries. He notices that there’s a slice of blueberry crème pie, which none of them ordered.
“I don’t—”
Jared cuts Bright off. “Don’t say anything. Just eat it. My boyfriend made that. Don’t insult him.”
Bright lifts a brow. “Boyfriend?”
Jared winks at him. “Yes. The grumpy pastry chef. Please don’t worry about this. Just eat, okay?” He says it with such tenderness that Bright finds himself swallowing a sudden lump in his throat.
“Okay,” Bright says after clearing his throat. “Thank you.”
He remains silent until Jared places two cups of hot chocolate and a cup of coffee on another tray. Bright doesn’t need to ask for whom the coffee is. Jared just gives him another wink before turning his attention to the customer who just entered.
Bright lifts one tray to carry and tries to lift the other too. But before he can spill anything, he finds one tray being snatched off his hands by a pair of strong ones.
Wynn’s. “Come on, I’m taking a break. Let’s eat together,” Wynn says with a small smile. The man has been giving Bright small smiles recently. Perhaps it’s a result of their nightly talks that Wynn has been a little friendlier towards him. Sometimes Bright even thinks he can already consider Wynn a friend.
Can he?
Without waiting for Bright to respond, Wynn turns his back on him and leads the two children to an unoccupied table. He watches as Wynn sits beside his niece and nephew, his demeanor fully relaxed and carefree. Whenever Wynn’s with them, the other man lets go of a few inhibitions and just seems to enjoy the moment.
He really is different with them.
Bright smiles fondly at the sight before him. They look like a proper family even without Bow.
“Bright!” Daniel and his toothy grin.
“Bright! Come hereeeee!” Mia and the demanding but sweet lilt to her voice.
Wynn nods. Just nods. But there is a little smile playing on his full lips as he waves for Bright to join them.
Wynn. Wynn and his subtlety.
So Bright does without hesitation. He joins the little family at their table. He sits beside Wynn, and the man hands him a fork for his cake. Bright accepts it with one of his own smiles and joins the conversation, fitting naturally as if he has been a part of their lives for so long.
That night, when he’s lying on the comfortable couch and ready to sleep, Bright thinks about his afternoon at the coffee shop.
It’s when he realizes that he shouldn’t have accepted the offer to stay.
Wynn
Wynn fully embraces independence.
He grows up doing things on his own and by his own.
Their father, Gilbert, is a Senior Vice President of a popular clothing brand. He practically lives in the office—he always comes home late and leaves home early. The time his children spend with him is rare. He is there yet he never is.
Their mother, Brianna, is a housewife. She doesn’t have a job. But instead of staying at home, she is always at one of her friends’ house, discussing household problems and gossiping about other housewives and their nonexistent sex lives. She is an affectionate mother, but she has never truly let go of her freedom. Most of the time, she forgets she already has a family to take care of.
That she has children who need her presence in their lives.
Wynn and Bow—they grow up with the maids as their only companions, a typical yet not an ideal set up for children born in a rich family.
Gilbert and Brianna are good parents when it comes to how parents should feel for their kids. They genuinely care for their sons. However, they have a different definition in mind with regards to the meaning of being responsible parents.
Gilbert thinks that because he can provide well for them, it’s enough to make them happy. Brianna on the other hand always thinks that her sons are independent enough not to need her so much, so she continues to live the life she used to live before her early marriage. She hasn’t completely let go of her bachelorette status, and has been trying her best to go back to the elite circle she used to belong to.
Which is probably why Wynn is the way he is. He has always acted as Bow’s parental figure ever since they’re young. Bow relies on his older brother more than he relies on their parents.
At a young age, Bow completely lets go of their mother and father as his guardians. As long as Wynn is there beside him, Bow never complains. There is no surprise that the bond between the brothers becomes stronger than the bond between parents and sons.
Wynn… likes that feeling. Most would have felt that it is a heavy burden and a responsibility, but to Wynn, it feels… good. It feels natural. He easily accepts it. He easily fits into the role as Bow’s guardian despite his young age. He takes care of Bow and looks after him without the slightest hint of regret. He takes pride in watching his brother grow into a fine young man.
For Wynn, it’s a huge accomplishment. His accomplishment.
When their parents decide to stay in L.A., Wynn doesn’t feel any remorse or anger for them. He welcomes the sudden change. So does Bow.
Wynn—he used to be Bow’s everything—his parent, his brother, and his best friend, his confidante. But that accident caused a great change. While Bow’s thoughts and feelings for his brother have somehow faltered in a way due to the brain operation, Wynn’s haven’t. He cares more for his younger brother, becomes more protective of him even.
Wynn’s parents volunteer to take Bow with them back to L.A., but Wynn disagrees. He knows what will happen to Bow if he allows it. Their parents will just hire caregivers to take care of him, something that Bow doesn’t need.
His younger brother isn’t an invalid. He has huge changes in his behavior, and he might be fond of using his wheelchair for an unknown reason, but Bow can still walk and move properly.
Bow needs to be placed in a normal environment. The flat affect might prevent him from understanding and feeling things the normal way, but he is still a breathing, feeling, thinking human being. He doesn’t need to be treated differently.
So Bow stays with Win. So do his children. It’s difficult at times, but Wynn handles everything by himself. He just needs help with the kids, but only because he has work to do. If he can only work at home, he will do it, if it means spending more time with his little family.
It’s the way Wynn wants it. It’s not about pride. Or plain stubbornness. It’s just that Wynn has become used to doing everything for himself and for the people who are important to him. As long as he can do it, he will do it.
But life is not life without randomly throwing odd twists and turns. There are times when life just doesn’t follow the direction it is supposed to take.
Like Bright’s arrival in his family life. In his life.
For someone who doesn’t even know what he wants in life, Bright instantly stirs the equilibrium Wynn has established in his family. He feels like a virus, silently spreading, silently conquering. The one infected by the deadly disease will not feel the effects until it’s too late.
Daniel and Mia accept Bright easily. No babysitter has ever stayed for a long time. Bow’s kids are nice kids, but they are very mischievous. Their previous sitters have to suffer pranks and white lies before they can even have the two children listen. Wynn often finds himself finding a new sitter every few weeks.
But with Bright, it’s different. They listen to every word he says. They love playing with him. They like hanging out with him and listening to his stories. They love the man.
There’s also the curious case of his younger brother. Bow probably doesn’t notice the changes, but he seems to feel things slowly. Wynn is still unsure if Bright has anything to do with it, but there are times he hears them having a decent conversation. And he swears he sees Bow crack a smile or two.
And then there’s… Wynn himself.
Wynn never relies on other people. He hates it. He doesn’t like the feeling of being a burden to other people.
But recently, he knows. Wynn knows that emotionally, he has come to rely on Bright. Wynn has never opened up the way he has been opening up to Bright.
Their night talks come as a surprise to him. They become an unexpected part of his routine. Wynn finds himself looking forward to the nights wherein he will find Bright awake, and at the balcony. It seems like their signal. Whenever Wynn comes home and finds the balcony door open, he will go straight to the kitchen and prepare tea for them. Then he will join Bright and they will talk about random things. Random things which often start as silly, but end up being one of the deepest talks in Wynn’s life.
Bright is smart—he knows about a lot of things and most importantly, he seems to have a good grasp of how they work. And Wynn, despite being knowledgeable about a lot of subjects, finds himself learning a lot from him. The other man’s life might seem to be directionless right now, but he has no doubts that Bright will be able to find his own path soon.
And Wynn hates this. All of this. He doesn’t like that he is having all of these thoughts about someone he just knew for a few weeks.
But he can’t stay away. He just can’t. That much he can admit. Bright has wormed his way into his life like a cunning fox. His presence has become a comfort to Wynn himself, and despite him trying to act like he’s all casual about it, he isn’t. It’s making a big impact in his life, in his family’s daily life, and he can’t just let it go.
Yet he doesn’t want to dwell on it too much. There are so many contradicting emotions threatening to climb into the surface, and Wynn is clueless on how he will be able to deal with them.
At least not yet. However, Wynn feels like there is something that needs to be addressed soon.
Bright has been… acting odd lately. There seems to be something wrong with him. Ever since that day at the café, Bright seems to become just a bit distant.
He still approaches Wynn the same way he always does. He still talks to him, interacts with him, discusses things with him, and argues with him at times. He smiles at him, laughs with him, and still remains his playful self around him at night.
But something has changed. It’s almost unnoticeable, but it’s lurking on the surface. Wynn can feel Bright, but there seems to be an otherworldly presence in him that tells Wynn that while the other man is physically present, his soul is miles away. It’s as if he is slowly drifting away from them, from him, and Bright is not even stopping it.
Wynn is bothered. He hates what this means. He hates what this implies. And as much as he tries to stop it, the feelings he’s trying to keep hidden starts to reveal a tension that confuses him more. It’s subtle, quiet, but it’s there.
And Wynn isn’t the only one who can feel it. Wynn knows they can both feel it. But even with the presence of the edgy air around them, the nightly ritual continues because they both need it.
The evening trysts become an escape from everything—Wynn from his uncanny need to prove how useful he is, and for Bright, perhaps it’s a break from his all-consuming thoughts.
Wynn works a lot. And Bright—he thinks a lot. Distraction is probably what they both need to maintain the equilibrium within themselves. The night talks allow them to find a rope that they can hold on to, and they both subconsciously grasp it tightly.
Some nights are fun, and light, and just everything a break from the universe’s quirks should be.
“Your mom almost named you Tortellini?” Bright asks in disbelief, causing Wynn to shush the other man. Bright blushes, the tips of his ears turning red, which Wynn finds endearing, and apologizes immediately. “I’m sorry, but that’s just a little absurd.”
“I know, but keep your voice down. Gosh. You’re waking up the whole neighborhood,” Wynn says with a disapproving tone. “But to answer your question, yes. Because Mom loves pasta. Italy is her favorite country. And she thinks it will be fun to name her children after her favorite pasta.”
“Yet, your name is Wynn…ter Melon.”
Wynn groans, and he hears Bright chuckle. “Don’t remind me. While Dad managed to convince her to agree to use another name, she uttered Winter Melon, her favorite milk tea flavor just before she passed out from exhaustion. She labored for nine hours. And Dad thought Mom deserved to name me however she wanted to.”
“But—”
Wynn sighs. “Dad was able to at least save a little face for me by at least changing the spelling.”
Bright looks like he will die from all the suppressed laughter. Win glares at him. Bright averts his gaze and clears his throat before he speaks again. “So Bow is—”
Wynn nods, his lips twitching. “Bow’s namesake is the bow-shaped pasta.”
“Oh my God,” Bright whispers incredulously.
Wynn stares at him, blinking, before he bursts out laughing, surprising Bright. The look on the other man’s face makes Wynn want to capture it and frame it.
“You’re… laughing.” Bright’s tone is that of wonder, which almost insults Wynn.
But then again, he can’t blame the other man. While he smiles a lot these days, he still rarely laughs. Jared says he takes life too seriously. Bow says he is being selfish.
And Wynn thinks both of them are correct—he takes life too seriously and he is selfish.
“Wynn?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re starting to smile and laugh more lately,” Bright says, speaking the words Wynn just uttered in his head. “You have such a nice smile. Your dimple… is cute. A smile looks good on you. Wear it often.”
Bright isn’t looking at him, but rather at the night sky. But there is a ghost of a smile on the other man’s face that just twists at Wynn’s heart. He unconsciously touches his left chest with his right hand, trying to make sense of what he’s feeling without revealing what he doesn’t want it to reveal.
Not yet. .
“Must be the weather,” he calmly replies, giving a general response that doesn’t mean anything. Not yet. “The weather tends to affect one’s mood. It’s cold lately. I love the cold. When I love something, it puts me in a better mood.”
Unsurprisingly, Bright agrees. Because acquiescence is probably the best reaction to Wynn’s stupid, unexpected response. And it’s safe. Acquiescence is safe.
“Yes. It must be the weather.”
And Bright doesn’t say anything anymore. It’s as if he understands what just happened and he too doesn’t want to dwell into it more. They delve into other topics after such awkward moments, much safer topics that do not need stupid, nonsensical answers that render them both speechless and lost.
Some nights are silent.
They just sit, a full meter between them, sharing tea and pastries, until one of them leaves without saying a word.
The quiet nights are probably the safest nights. There is no venturing into the unknown or into the untouchable territories. They just both enjoy the silence.
And the company.
The silence is not just comfortable—it has become so much more. As days pass, it starts to become an assurance. An assurance that in silence, there is always company. That in silence, there can be sanctuary. That in silence, there can be concealed truths.
Silence has become the only witness to the huge development between them. Yet it does not speak. It does not divulge the unspoken secrets that have been thrown back and forth between two conflicted souls without the use of words.
Some nights are cathartic.
There are nights when every frustration, every anger, every pain, and every undefined feeling are released and brought to the light. These are the nights when they simply want to inflict pain to those who they think deserve it.
In their case, it’s pain towards each other.
Words are cruelly exchanged, hurtful words that penetrate the skin and strike the soul. They throw nasty remarks towards each other until the tension abates into plain weariness and superficial banters.
Stress always gets to Wynn all the time. He is, after all, still just a normal human being with limitations and fears, and weaknesses. And he needs to let it out or else it will affect his interaction with people the next day.
Wynn hates taking out his bad mood on Bow even though his brother deserves it at times. He hates it when he spends his morning with Daniel and Mia in silence, just because he is too careful not to blow up on them.
But Bright—he’s different. Wynn stops being afraid to show what he feels to him because Bright is also not afraid to retaliate and meet him head on.
Bright, as Wynn has found out, is the type of person who is never afraid to say anything if provoked. He curses at him, glares back at him, and always gives him a piece of his mind in that quiet, dignified way of his. Bright is intimidating whenever he wants to, and that ignites the fire within Wynn, making him release all of his pent-up tiredness as sharp words.
These nights always start the same way as the other nights. They just end differently.
Wynn will join Bright. Then he will start being an asshole by goading Bright through insensitive remarks that pertain to his odd situation. Bright usually becomes sensitive and defensive when his situation is being mocked.
Wynn will push Bright to the limits. It’s always been easy for him to accomplish that.
Then Bright will combust. The two of them will verbally assault each other until the insults turn into something too pathetic and too futile to be considered as insults.
One will just leave the balcony without another word, while the other one finally relaxes, knowing that the words are not as hurtful as they are meant to be.
The next morning, they will both be back to normal, as if the test of egos doesn’t happen the night before. It’s an odd arrangement, but it works for both of them. It’s a connection that cannot be explained by mere words.
The nightly trysts remain a secret. It’s just between him and Bright.
Until Bow finally calls him on it.
***
Wynn is tired. It’s one of those days wherein everything just seems to go wrong. At the end of the work day, he’s just glad to go home and dive into his bed.
Which he does the moment he arrives. He goes straight to his room and plops on his bed. He will check on the kids and his brother later. He just wants to take a short nap first.
Wynn is just about to close his eyes and finally get that much needed rest, when he hears soft knocks on his door. Thinking that it’s Daniel (the little boy dreams of sea monsters and mermaids and can’t sleep at times), Wynn tears the door open with a smile on his face.
“Yes, Dan—”
It’s not Daniel. It’s Bow. On his wheelchair. Looking at him with that familiar blank gaze.
Wordlessly, Wynn steps aside to let him in. Bow doesn’t purposefully search for him if it’s simply nothing. His brother has something to say and he wants Wynn to listen.
Bow wheels his chair inside as Wynn closes the door behind him. He turns around and notices that Bow doesn’t go further inside, which means this will not take long.
“You and Bright are both idiots,” Bow says without hesitation. Wynn is surprised at the words that just came out of his brother’s mouth.
“Excuse me?” he asks, sounding confused. He is confused. “What?”
“How long have these things been going on? The nightly talks?”
“Why do you sound like it’s a bad thing?”
Bow responds tonelessly. “Just answer my question.”
“It’s none of your business,” Wynn says without faltering. He doesn’t mean for it to sound harsh, but with the way Bow is now staring at him, he knows he failed.
“It’s my business,” Bow says, looking him straight in the eyes. “Whatever is happening between you and Bright, it doesn’t just concern you two—it also concerns the three of us. The rest of us in this household.”
“I don’t understand what you are trying to say, Bow,” Wynn replies truthfully. “We are simply talking. If you are jealous because Bright is spending time with me then—”
Bow cuts him off with a short, sarcastic laugh.
“There is nothing funny with what I just said.”
“So you are thinking this way, huh?” Bow asks, his expression turning serious once again. “I don’t think of Bright the way you think I think of him.”
Wynn doesn’t reply. He is too lost for words. Bow’s response is so casual, but it feels like he just hit Wynn straight to his face.
“Listen to me well, Wynn,” Bow says, his face back to its usual indifference. “You’re different now. You might not admit it and you might not even have noticed it because you’re naïve as fuck, but you have changed.” He pauses for a while. “But the one that caused you that change—you know he won’t stay for long, right? Or have you forgotten it?”
This time, Wynn stiffens and Bow notices it.
“God, you’re hopeless,” Bow says impatiently. “Make him stay, you asstard, it’s what I want to say before you start spouting nonsense. Tell Bright you want him to stay even before he thinks of leaving. We know nothing about how these things work. We don’t know when Bright will have the urge to… leave again. Do something before it’s too late.”
Wynn feels like he’s being doused with ice cold water.
“I know you’re just afraid to ask him to stay because you think it’s a weakness to ask someone for something. It is NOT, brother,” Bow continues. “But I am not forcing you to do what you think will make you uncomfortable. But I just at least want you to know that if or when Bright leaves, you’re not the only one who will get affected.”
Wynn knows. Of course, he knows what Bow means. Daniel and Mia will be devastated when Bright leaves. The connection Bright has with the two kids are incomparable. They have never been attached to previous sitters as much as they are attached to Bright.
Daniel clings to him as if he is his only source of energy. Mia looks at him like Bright is her light.
And Bow, Bow himself changed. He is still an asshole most of the time, but he talks more to people around the house now, and interacts more with his children. Daniel is starting to accept his father’s behavior. Mia is still wary, but she doesn’t flee from the room now whenever Bow tries to talk to her.
“Bright’s this stupid young man who thinks he can fly forever,” Bow continues, cutting through Wynn’s thoughts. “And you—you think you exist to be someone else’s wings. You want to be useful all the time. You want to be able to protect all the time. You want to be everyone’s savior. But guess what, brother, not everyone wants to lean on someone. Sounds familiar?”
Wynn refuses to say anything. Bow shakes his head at his brother.
“One day, Bright will realize he needs to clip his wings,” the younger says. “And one day, you will realize that you need to stop acting as someone else’s wings. And perhaps, when you both do, you can finally meet in the middle.”
Silence seems to be Wynn’s only answer at the moment.
“I’m not your responsibility, Wynn,” Bow says quietly. “I never was. You just thought I was. You just think I am. Live your own life. Let me live mine. That will not take away the fact that we are brothers. I will always be your brother, and you will always be mine.”
Wynn still doesn’t say anything. And when it looks like he will remain silent for the rest of the conversation, Bow decides to just leave him alone to his thoughts.
“Think about it,” Bow says silently before maneuvering his wheelchair out of Wynn’s room.
I Refuse to Say Things That I Can Write Better 