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white’s been walking for hours.
(leave, p’black had told him.
stay away from my gang, p’ had said.
was white asking for too much when he wished that they could be brothers again?
of course you were, his mind replies, he hasn’t seen you in years and you thought identity theft would endear you to him? fucking idiot.
but we’re twins, he whines back
so what? it’s been years since you’ve been together. why would he care about that? and looking at the way he slapped you, he barely cares about you too. don’t be fucking stupid. cut your losses and leave.
but sean…
but nothing. p’ was right about one thing, sean’s never gonna forgive you for this. you know how he valued honesty and we’ve been lying to him for months.
taking on a softer tone his mind says, let’s just accept defeat and move on okay? big brother was right. we’re not cut out for this.)
he had stopped by the riverfront first, to figure out what he was going to do after p’ had so cruelly turned him away.
(staring at the water, he so desperately tries not to think about sean. sean with his pretty eyes. sean’s little smile he got when white did something particularly cute. sean who was a huge fucking book nerd.
if i’m not black- the black you used to know, would that be okay? he had said that night
sean had slowly smiled and said, what’s in a name? a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.
and sean kissed him — soft and sweet and sure. and all of white had melted. who was white to stand up to the love sean gave him?
his fingers brush over the space where sean had taken a button.
i hope you keep it, white thinks, sadness weighing him down. i hope in the middle of the night when you can’t sleep, you pull it out and stare at it. i hope that in your softest moments you think about me fondly. i hope you press a kiss to it on those nights. i hope you keep me in the recesses of your mind. i hope that i remain a what-if. just so that maybe one day, i can come back and fall into your arms again.
brother used to call him kind but white knows that he’s anything but kind. he’s entirely too selfish.
let sean hate me he prays to the river let him hate me. so that i don’t have to live with the thought that i broke his heart.)
i’ll walk. i’ll walk and walk and walk until i can’t walk anymore. maybe by then i’ll end up in some nice farming community and they’ll take me in and i can live the rest of my life there.
and so white walks. his calves ache and his feet are probably swollen. it’s night by the time he decides to take in where he's landed. just his luck, he’s ended up in one of the rougher parts of bangkok. oh well, whatever. if he gets mugged, then he gets mugged.
it’s not like i have anything of value on me. he thinks hysterically, i’m a nobody now. gave all the status up when i walked out of father’s house.
people are starting to look at him, he doesn’t care. there’s nothing to care about. everything he had wanted is gone.
(hia with his knowing smiles and sharp eyes.
i’ll retrain you to be as good as you were, hia had said. white had known then and there that hia knew he wasn’t black, but he kept white’s secret. he’d have to send hia a fruit basket or something when he got to that farming village.
p’yok and his smiles. p’yok and his art. p’yok and his insane ability to take a punch. p’yok and his love for ice cream.
it’s cold and it’s sweet. what more could you want? p’yok had said the one time they went out for it. he’ll send p’yok some art supplies when settles down
thinking of p’gram hurts. he fucked up the most with p’gram. he should’ve been kinder, spent more time with him. he saw the sad looks p’gram would shoot him when he curled up with sean on the couch. he should’ve taken the time to explain what was going on to p’gram. p’gram, out of all them, deserved to know what was going with p’black.
i’m sorry p’gram. i’m so sorry. he thinks tears dripping down his cheeks.
he’ll send p’gram two fruit baskets when he gets to the community.)
so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t hear a motorcycle pull up next to him.
“-ack. -lack. black!” someone shouts
he jumps. turning to look, it’s p’gram on a bike.
p’gram leans forward on his bike, concern etched on his face, “black? what are you doing here? and why are you dressed like that, it’s cold y’know? and are you crying?”
p’gram’s voice goes up on ‘crying’. it would’ve been funny if white wasn’t so tired.
no time like the present, he thinks, they’re gonna know anyway. might as well take p’gram’s anger now.
“p’gram,” he starts, looking downward “i’m not black.”
p’gram looks confused. “p’gram? black we’re the same age. and what do you mean you’re not black?”
“p’gram,” white says looking him in the eye “i’m not black.”
p’gram seems to stop at his sure tone and finally looks at him. white sees the way p’gram notices his lack of earrings, the clothes, the way white carries himself.
“okay,” p’gram says tonelessly “you’re not black. get on the bike. i’m taking you back to the garage.”
“i’m not allowed to go back to the garage. p’black said i should stay away.”
“get on the fucking bike. you can explain at the garage.” p’gram says in between clenched teeth.
“you’re not listening.” white says agitated “i’m not allowed to go back to the garage. p’ said i couldn’t. and even if i could, so what? everyone’s just gonna be mad at me.”
p’gram raises an eyebrow “you’re making a lot of assumptions right now. maybe you should let other people decide their emotions for themselves. and i am listening. black said you should stay away right? why would you listen to him? you’re grown up enough to make your own choices.”
p’gram leans forward again and smiles. it’s not a pretty smile. “and maybe you’re not listening to me. i’m not giving you a choice, get on the fucking bike now.”
and what can white do? he gets on the bike.
walking into the garage this time around is a lot more nerve-wracking than the first time around.
stupid, fucking idiot. p's gonna kill you. not to mention everyone else. how 'bout next time, we just try credit card theft? his mind says
isn't that just another form of identity theft?
shut up.
white snorts. p'gram turns around, "is something funny?"
all humor fades out of him, "no, of course not."
p'gram looks unconvinced but nods slowly. "okay, well let me go in first and ease them into it. then you can come in okay?"
"yes, p'gram." white says looking downward
"hey, hey. none of that. i can't speak for the others, but i promise i'll hear you out before i get mad."
"you're still gonna be mad though" white points out
p'gram smiles a little "well, yeah. you've been lying to us for who knows how long. i think i deserve to be a little mad, don't you?"
turning around, he motions for white to follow him in. before they enter the workshop, p’gram motions for him to be quiet.
“i’ll go first. you wait here until you hear me tell you to come in.”
white nods his head. waiting by the garage doors, he hears p’gram start to talk.
“hey guys! i think we need to talk. there’s some-”
“where the fuck have you been gram?”
fuck p’ is here. it’s too late to leave though.
who said that? p’gram would never know. you could just go right now.
i can’t do that. the others deserve the truth.
so mail them a fucking letter or something.
c’mon, we’re better than that.
too lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice he’s taken a half-step forward. looking upward, he sees p’gram and p’ looking to be about half a second away from fighting. he takes a second to look over p’, to make sure his brother hasn’t gotten hurt in the 3 hours they’ve been apart.
p’yok is playing with his favorite butterfly knife looking disinterested in the conversation.
switching his gaze over to the other side of the couch, he sees hia looking directly at him, head tilted curiously. white flinches. hia raises an eyebrow.
you okay? hia mouths
white gives a wobbly smile back.
he can’t bring himself to look at the back for sean.
sean, he mouths, ok?
hia averts his gaze and shakes his head subtly.
white’s heart stutters for a beat before beating twice as fast. everyone’s voice dulls out. he drags his eyes toward the back, to the barstool near the back.
sean’s favorite spot, he recalls.
(“i picked it out when i first came to the garage” sean had said when white had asked. “i couldn’t stand you and i wasn’t comfortable with everyone else yet so i picked a spot where i could hear everyone but was far away enough that i could leave. now it’s just become my spot.”
sean liked it when white stood between his legs.
“perfect height to hug you and you’re so close. i like touching you.”
white couldn’t stop blushing for the rest of the day.)
sean’s hunched over in his chair, a blank look in his eyes and the weight of the world on his shoulders. p’gram raises his voice and sean winces. slowly he looks up and white’s already shattered heart breaks into a million more pieces.
sean’s face is beat to hell. bruises all over his face and one eye is swollen shut. there’s a cut near his temple that’s still sluggishly bleeding. it looks like he didn’t even try to fight back. there’s a sob building in the back of his throat.
they lock eyes and a broken sound comes out of his mouth. it cuts through the argument and white takes a step forward. then another and another and another until he’s right in front of sean.
sean’s still staring at white, a blank look in his eyes. white takes a hesitant step forward to stand in between sean’s legs. raising his hands, he gently cups sean’s face.
lightly pressing his thumbs into sean’s cheeks, he whispers, “who did this to you? i left you alone for 6 hours and you end up like this?”
it’s dead silent in the garage. he tries not to think about the fact that sean’s hands haven’t come up to grip his waist like they usually do. white misses the pressure.
(the sadness in him is slowly being replaced by anger. white is so tired and he is so angry.
who did this to sean? sean — his beloved, his love, and a million other things that white will only say when he’s alone — has faults he knows.
he’s impulsive and hotheaded. he doesn’t think things through sometimes. he has fucked up past that he stubbornly refuses to think about. and he thinks that violence is the answer to almost everything.
white is 90% sure that sean is addicted to nicotine and alcohol but sean is also kind. sean is brave, sean is so, so, so intelligent. sean is funny and likes weird trivia facts. if sean didn’t major in political science, he would’ve majored in education. sean is so good with kids.
sean is- sean is a million more things that white could spend a lifetime expanding on. sean deserves to be whacked upside the head sometimes but never to this extent.
white is going to fucking kill whoever did this to sean.)
he leans forward to press a featherlight kiss to sean’s swollen eye. leaning back, he asks again, “who did this to you?”
sean’s eyes track off his face to look at someone behind white. they slide back to his face.
“you.” sean whispers looking him in the eye.
(tears slip down white’s cheeks and something in sean’s eyes clear up. lifting his hands up, sean grips his waist. the knot in white’s chest loosens just a tad.)
“are you fucking kidding me?” p’black says from behind them.
white is going to fucking kill his brother. disentangling himself from sean, he walks over to his brother.
“are you a fucking idiot white? huh? is that it? cause i know i told you to stay away from the garage and my gang.” p’ says.
(“his gang?” hia mutters on the side.)
“did you do that to sean?” he says coldly, ignoring his brother’s cutting remarks.
p’ laughs — it’s a little unhinged, “that’s what this about? fucking sean?”
“did you do that to sean?” he says again, stepping closer.
p’ spits on the floor before looking him in the eye. his mouth twists into a cruel smirk. “yeah, yeah i did. why? does it make you mad?”
white says nothing, just takes one step closer. p’s eyes are glinting with amusement. he doesn’t recognize his brother. maybe he never had.
then in the blink of an eye, white punches his brother in the face. it connects.
(“oh,” p’yok sounds gleeful “i taught him that!”)
p’ stumbles backward. pain smarts across his right cheek. white bites down on his tongue so he doesn’t groan.
“fuck you.” he spits out, venomous and angry “how dare you fucking do that to someone i love. who the fuck do you think you are?”
p’ looks up and smiles — there’s blood at the corner of his mouth. the nice part of his brain wants to apologize and wipe it away. wants to take care of his brother the way he used to when they were kids. he’s too angry for that today though. he’s gonna make his brother fucking bleed today.
“me? i’m your big brother, nong. gotta protect the baby of the family, remember? it’s in the job description.”
“and you love him? he loves you?” he laughs “he can’t even tell us apart. some love.”
“he didn’t even know you had a brother until today!” white says, voice raised.
white laughs this time, it’s sad and it’s broken.
“and why is that? huh? not a single one of them knew about me. were you ashamed of me? ashamed of your little brother p’?”
p’black stomps towards him and grabs his collar in one hand. “say that shit one more time, white. i fucking dare you.”
“were you ashamed of me p’?” he says mockingly “did it take away from your tough-guy reputation if they knew you had a twin? is that it? hmm?”
p’ brings his fist down to punch him. it never connects. p’gram gets there before it can.
grabbing p’s hand, p’gram says, “c’mon dude. that’s your baby brother. i’m sure we can settle this some other way.”
white’s itching for a fight though. he hasn’t been this angry in years. he’s gonna break his brother’s nose. who cares if it’ll hurt him too? their pain has always been reciprocal. p’ hurt someone he loved. white’s gonna make him learn what that feels like.
(white learned long ago that people would only accept anger from one of them. and that was okay with him. he wasn’t an angry person by nature. no, that was p’black who raged at every injustice he came across.
somedays it seemed like p’ had gotten all the rage between them.
he’s angry now though. if it had been just him p’ had hurt, white could live with that. could make do with the happy memories he had with p’ before this all went down. but p’ hurt sean for no reason other than what? he was dating white? he didn’t like sean?
fuck p’ and fuck his shitty emotional intelligence. white’s gonna rip out his fucking spleen.)
“let him go, p’gram” white says smiling “he can’t hurt me without hurting himself anyway.”
tapping his right cheek, white sticks it out for p’black, “c’mon big brother. hit me. my cheek still hurts from where i hit you. let’s make this even.”
“let me go gram,” p’ says. gram lets him go slowly.
p’ slaps him across the face. it’s harder than the slap he gave two hours ago. his cheek hurts and his eyes water.
whipping his head back to look at p’, he scoffs. he pushes his brother off of him.
“what? couldn’t even fucking hit me properly?” he spits on the floor “pussy.”
p’black’s eyes are angrier than he’s ever seen them. “fuck you.”
white is so fucking tired.
“no, fuck you!” he explodes “do you know how fucking exhausting this past fucking month has been? huh? do you know how tiring it is to act like you and your shitty attitude towards life? i gave up everything for you! i had a nice job lined up before this, do you know that? walked out on father and everything! for you. all for you, you fucking bastard!”
“nobody fucking asked you to do that!” p’ roars “nobody was holding a gun to your head asking you to take my place! who told you to infiltrate my gang? wear my clothes? ride my bike? huh? oh yeah, fucking tod!”
“‘are you ashamed of me p’?’” p’ says mockingly “absolutely! you’re so fucking naive it’s a miracle you can cross the street without getting hit by a car.”
“you trusted tod, of all people. you’re not fucking cut out for this life. you think you can get a few tattoos, wear a few sleeveless shirts, ride a bike, and all of sudden you fit in? don’t be fucking stupid.”
“and what was i supposed to do?” white asks, enraged.
he takes a step forward, “i hadn’t lived in thailand in over a decade. was i just supposed to just magically know where you were? it’s not like i could ask you. you were in a fucking coma. was i just supposed to know that tod was the one who put you in the fucking icu?”
“so what? you didn’t know? and then what, you take my place? hatch up some insane little revenge plan? god, you’re pathetic.”
white takes another step forward. he’s standing right in front of p’ now.
“and what was i supposed to do?” he asks coldly “sit at your bedside and weep? tend to your wounds until you woke up? go around to your classmates and ask them to write a ‘get-well soon’ card for you?”
“you wouldn’t fucking do that if it was me in your position.” white laughs humorlessly “or maybe you would. it’s not like i fucking know you anymore.”
“so yes, i hatched up some ‘insane little revenge plan’ as you so eloquently put it. yes, i pretended to be you to varying degrees of success. yes, i was using myself as bait. yes, i fell in love with sean. yes, i started a protest. yes, i learned how to take a punch and how to get out of a chokehold. yes, i helped burn down tawi’s summer home. and yes i did it for you, you fucking asshole.”
“you had a heart attack during the coma, did you know that?” he says looking his brother in the eyes.
it’s dead silent in the garage save for p’s heavy breathing.
“what the fuck?” p’gram says
“did you know our heart’s stopping, transmits across the bond? did you know that p’?” there’s shock in p’black’s eyes.
good, white thinks viciously
“‘gotta protect my brother’?” he echoes from earlier, smiling. there’s an unhinged look in his eyes.
“isn’t that what you said? so where were you when i was writhing on the ground struggling to breathe? where were you when my heart stopped?”
“oh yeah,” he chuckles hysterically, “you were in the hospital causing it. hell of a way to protect your nong, p’.”
“fuck you.” p’ says but there’s no real heat behind it
(white’s so fucking tired and he knows p’ is tired too. he can fucking feel it. can’t p’black just hold him and let him cry on his shoulder like he used to? does he have to make this so hard?)
“did all this shit for you. spent a whole month thinking about what it’d be like to talk to you in person again. dreaming about the day, i could put the act down and stop lying to my- your friends. dreaming about the day, i could go back to being your little brother again. and what do i get in return?”
white shrugs. “you come back and there is no tearful reunion. there is no catching up. not a single ‘hey little brother, it’s so good to see you’. not a single ‘i missed you’. no, you just get mad at me and tell me to stay away from you.”
“was i supposed to thank you for doing all that shit?” p’ says
“maybe?” white cries “i don’t know! a longer hug would’ve done just fine. maybe a head pat. or even a ‘let’s catch up’ would’ve worked, you son of a bitch.”
p’ throws his head back and laughs, “you're right, i am a son of a bitch. mother took me, remember? and she raised me to be just like her — a bitch.”
he tilts his head mockingly, “what about you though? father took you. and from the looks of it, you turned out exactly like him — just as manipulative as him.”
there are sobs building in him as they stare at each other.
aren’t you supposed to be my big brother? he wants to scream, why can’t i recognize you?
they could go in circles for the rest of the night. p’ won’t back down unless he does something dramatic.
(and isn’t this the worst part? that white understands why p’black is doing this? that he gets it? that if white had a little brother in this situation, he wouldn’t let him within a 10 km radius of this place. if white had a little brother, he probably would’ve gone insane in this situation.
but white’s grown up. white’s no longer the crybaby he once was. white’s got a backbone and morals and determination now. everything p’ wanted him to have all those years ago.
and p’s just gonna have to recognize that.)
“i didn’t wanna do this but it looks like i have no choice now.” white says
he turns and stalks towards the table that the rest of the gang have congregated around.
“sorry ‘bout this p’yok,” he mutters as he swipes the butterfly knife off the table.
as he walks back towards p’, he flips open the knife in a move that p’yok had taught him.
there’s sounds of a scuffle behind him. he turns his head to see p’gram being held back by hia and p’yok.
“i’m not going to gut my own brother,” he says
(white tries not to think about the fact that sean hasn’t said a single word throughout all of this.
i’ll beg for forgiveness if have to. white thinks)
he stands in front of his brother, an uncovered knife in his left hand and his nails digging into his palm in the other.
p’ flexes his right hand and stares him down.
“i know why you’re doing this” white starts “i get it. you wanna protect me.”
“but i’m all grown up now. you’ve got to let me make my own choices. you can’t wrap me in bubble wrap forever. and plus, there’s a hit out on you. we’ve got the same face. you think those goons tod’s gonna send after you will know the difference between me and you?”
“if one of us gets hurt, the other feels it. don’t make me go through that again.” white says
he reaches out to grab p’black’s left hand.
“i don’t want to leave and i’m not gonna leave. whatever hang-ups the gang has about me lying to them will have to be resolved after tawi’s been taken out. it’s too late for me to get out.”
white slaps the knife into p’s open palm and curls his fingers around it. guiding p’s hand, he presses the blade to his throat.
p’ just stares at him.
the gang starts.
“what the fuck are you doing?” hia says “put the goddamn knife down."
white ignores them. “i just got you back p’, i’m not leaving you again. i spent a decade without you and it was the worst time of my life.”
he presses the knife in harder, “if you want me to leave p’, you’ll have to kill me.”
“don’t you dare fucking kill yourself with my favorite knife, white.” p’yok says, tone deadly
p’ still says nothing.
“p’ — or i guess since you didn’t want me to be your brother so badly — black, if you want me safe so badly, kill me. dead men can’t get hurt.” he says smiling
“do it black, do it. put me out of this fucking misery. it’s not like i have anywhere to go after this. i’m not your brother, i’m not these guys’ friends, i’m not sean’s anything.”
“white,” sean says.
(it’s the first word he’s said since white punched p’ for him.
and how sweet it is, white thinks. his name from sean’s mouth makes him want to cry.
i want you to hold me, he thinks, i wanna kiss you and love you for as long as you’ll have me. for another 50 years, and then another 50 after that.)
white ignores him.
“kill me black, just fucking kill me!”
p’s eyes darken and he presses the knife in deeper.
p’ leans in. “you want me to kill you? huh? i’ll fucking do it.” he murmurs
white meets his gaze head-on. “then do it black, but you once said that it was me and you against the world. that it was you and me forever. if that means anything to you, let me stay by your side. as a brother, as a friend, or whatever you need."
"just let me be by your side,” he begs.
p’ presses the knife in deeper for a beat, two, three before he drops it.
it lands on the floor with a deafening clang.
the punch that sends him sprawling on the floor hurts like hell though.
p' stands over him breathing heavily.
(white can't help the tears that fall from his eyes — a month's worth of exhaustion all catching up to him at once. hands coming up to stifle the sounds coming from his mouth, he sobs.
he sobs for all the times he’s broken p’gram’s heart and all the little lies he had to tell sean. he cries for all the friendships he’s gonna have to give up when all this is over. but mostly he cries for his and p’s relationship.
for all the years he’s missed. all the times he’s needed his big brother and p’ wasn’t there. for every time he turned to tell p’ something and p’ wasn’t there. for every milestone they missed. for the university acceptance reaction, he didn’t get to see, for the high school graduation he missed, for the university graduation that p’ missed. for every failed test he didn’t get to tutor p’ through. for every break-up p’ didn’t get to comfort him through.
for a decade’s worth of missed inside jokes. for everything that led them to get up to this point, white sobs.)
p’ leans over him and grabs his collar, “you motherfucker” he seethes
“you piece of shit brother.” he says, shaking white “look at me. look at me!”
white looks at him.
“the only thing i have ever wanted to do is keep you safe. ever since we were children. you hear me?”
white nods.
“you were my responsibility, not our shitty parents’ responsibility but mine. mine to take care of, mine to love, mine to look after. you were the brightest point in our fucked up childhood. it’s the only thing i look back fondly at.”
he continues, “and you never fought back or got angry, so you were mine to get angry for. mine to demand better for. mine to punch people for. and you ended up taking care of me too.”
(i had to. white thinks you were mine too. mine to look after, mine to patch up, mine to calm down.
it was too much for you to carry alone but you wouldn’t let me help you. so i had to do things subtly. i’m glad it worked.)
p’s eyes harden, “and then they fucking took you away from me. said we were too fucking attached to each other. who was gonna protect you in russia? who was gonna make sure you drank your milk there? father? that bastard doesn't know the first thing about you.”
“i couldn’t even do anything about it. i blinked and you were on a plane to russia. you were gone before i even had a chance to say anything.”
“and then-” he seethes “-a decade later, when i had finally compartmentalized you in a way that didn’t ache every time i thought about it, you come back on the worst night of my life and then i wake up a month later to you in my trashed apartment dressed in my clothes.”
“‘p’’ you say ‘i’ve been putting myself in unnecessary danger to find the people who hurt you. also i’ve been working with the person who hurt you. also i’m fucking the one guy you can’t stand.’”
white snorts, a barely-there smile flitting across his face.
“what the fuck was i supposed to do nong?” p’s says, voice dropping to a whisper “i couldn’t let you put yourself in any more danger. so i was rude and i was mean and i pressed on all the buttons i knew would hurt so you would leave. and it worked didn’t it?”
p’ shakes him again, “and then you come back, against my wishes and my orders, you fucking came back. and then you punch me for hurting sean. as if sean can’t fight his own goddamn battles.”
“you come back and you pick a fight with me. and you tell me some of the most horrifying shit i’ve ever heard in my fucking lifetime. like the fact your heart stopped because of me or that you’ve been using yourself as bait and i’m just supposed to be okay with that?”
“worst of all,” p’ says voice dropping several degrees “you make me hold a knife to your neck and tell me that you think i don’t want you as a brother. how could you even think that? you’re the first thing i think of when i wake up and the last thing i think of before i go to sleep. i spent years after you left compulsively checking for a new bruise. you’re the only brother i’ve ever wanted!"
"and then you beg me to kill you. you’re a shit fucking brother.”
“how could you do that white? how could you ask me, your big brother, your p’, to kill you? what the fuck were you thinking?”
(there’s a shiny sheen over p’s eyes and white knows that he won’t cry in front of their friends. that he will hold it all in until he’s alone and then he’ll break.
white’s the one that made him like this, white’ll fix it.)
the tears that subsided to listen to p’ have started again, stronger this time. reaching up he pulls p’ down on to him. wrapping his arms around p’s neck, he babbles as he sobs.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i didn’t want to take all those cheap shots at you — well i kinda did then but you wouldn’t listen to what i was saying. and i didn’t really want to die, well i did-”
p’s grip on him tightens, white barely notices over his frantic attempts to apologize.
“-but not anymore, i guess. but still sometimes maybe? and you’re the only brother i’ve ever wanted too. i’m sorry i made you hold a knife to my neck. i’m so sorry.”
his brother pats him on the shoulder a few times before telling him to sit up. once he does, p’ whacks him across the head, hard. white knows that p’ feels it by the way his hands clench tightly.
“don’t you ever fucking do that again. and it’s ‘p’ ‘ to you little brother. don’t you ever call me ‘black’ again.”
white gives him a wobbly smile as he whines, “it’s only by 3 minutes p’!”
p’ flicks him on the forehead, “i’m still older, dummy.”
p’ stands up and bends down to ruffle his hair. extending a hand, p’ says “c’mon get up now. i think we gave enough of a show to these three here.”
white takes the hand and as he stands up a wave of dizziness comes over him. he stumbles, p’ grabs him by the wrist.
“hey steady, steady,” he says softly
“as much as i loved this lakorn” p’yok says “i do have a mom to go home to and this entire night to think over. so maybe we can reconvene tomorrow?”
“good idea.” hia says “we’ll all meet up here tomorrow for breakfast. clear?”
“crystal.” everyone responds.
white has to do something first though. gently twisting his wrist out of p’s grip, he walks over to sean.
“hey,” he says looking up at sean.
sean says nothing but his hands come up to hold white’s waist and his eyes soften. white’ll count it as a win.
(“what he needs to do is keep his hands off my baby brother. i’m gonna fucking kill him tomorrow.” black mutters on the side.
“you will do no such thing.” ghumpa says. “not after what you did to his face. you’re banned from fighting with him in my garage for the next month.”
“the next month?” black splutters “there’s no way that’s gonna last.”
“well, i guess you’re gonna have to make it last then.”
yok and gram snicker watching them.)
“i’m sorry. i promise i’ll explain tomorrow.” white says
sean stares at him for a moment before responding, “i’ll hold you to it, pretty rose.”
a blush rises to his cheeks.
“i take it back,” p’yok calls out “i love romance lakorns!”
p’gram slaps him upside the head and turns to them grinning, “sorry lovebirds, continue.”
the blush gets stronger.
sean’s hand comes up to his cheeks. “so pretty” he mutters
dropping his hand, he waves bye to the rest of the gang and starts walking to his room.
“wait.” p’ calls out, walking towards sean.
sean stiffens before turning around to face p’.
digging around in his pocket, p’ pulls out a tube of cream. “here” he says, slapping it into sean’s open palm.
“it’s bruise cream” he explains
sean looks confused.
“this isn’t an apology. i’m not fucking apologizing for what i did but white’ll be mad at me if i didn’t try so there, bruise cream. i nicked it from the hospital, so you know it’s the good kind.”
“put it on before you go to sleep. it’ll fix all of the…” p’ gestures to sean’s general face.
“black,” sean says shortly “shut the fuck up.”
it’s tinged with amusement so white’s gonna count it as a win.
p’ looks back at him in annoyance and white smiles.
things aren’t completely okay yet, but they will be. white can’t wait for tomorrow.