His parents announced they'd be staying at a hotel for the night said that watching their son already "claimed" reminded them of their wedding day, and they wanted to enjoy a private getaway. They'd be heading back to their country house in Nan tomorrow.
So what did that mean?
It meant their precious only son had no choice but to hand over his most sacred space his own home—to that guy. Like an offering on a silver platter.
Are they under some spell or what? Planning to hand over my life and property to him? The way his parents beamed at him was suspicious enough.
Since his parents' old bedroom had long been turned into storage, that left only two bedrooms in the whole house. Where was the guy supposed to sleep?
Thump—
A broad hand, light as a falling leaf, landed gently on his head. Along with it came that familiar scent cool, calming and the warm, low voice of Kind, the so-called prince charming. He'd seen his parents off, fed BooBoo until the dog snuggled soundly into its new outdoor kennel yes, the one he had bought.
But tonight, instead of enjoying his purchase, Kind had insisted on sitting out under the moon.
"Still drinking, Fhan? The night dew's strong. You don't even like staying outdoors—you'll catch a cold."
The self-proclaimed second dad lowered himself beside him, still ruffling his hair. Fhan shoved his arm away and took another long swig.
"I'm not BooBoo. You don't get to pet me whenever you like. If you'd wanted something from me, you should've made your move ages ago." His parents gone, he could finally unleash every ounce of venom. Let's see how long this guy could endure.
"I'm just worried about my boyfriend. I don't want you getting sick."
Shameless. He said it so boldly, like he actually believed it. The deep voice, the word boyfriend—both grated on his ears. Fhan tipped the bottle higher, determined to drain it.
"Then go to bed. Leave me alone."
"Can we talk? Since you woke up this morning—since our engagement—we haven't really had a serious conversation, not once." Manah's hand brushed the bottle in his grip, urging him to ease up.
"What is it?"
"I like you, Fhan."
"I don't even know you. Hell, I only just learned your name is Kind. Beyond that? Nothing."
"Earlier you let BooBoo play with your phone, right?"
"I don't know. I was asleep. My parents gave me that mutt hoping I'd change, but it's pointless. I'm still me. If the dog starves, that's not on me—I never asked to raise it in the first place!"
"Dream, quiet down. BooBoo understands more than you think."
"Answer me honestly. What the hell do you even like about me? When did you see me and think I was worth it? All I do is sleep, ignore the house, neglect the dog. Do you really think I'm good enough for you to like?"
"I never said I liked you because you're good. I just… like you. The first time I saw you, I liked you. Even if all I ever see is you asleep, I still like you. Feelings aren't something we can control. Isn't that true?"
"Well, I don't feel the same. I only agreed to this engagement because it made my parents happy. But sooner or later, you'll leave anyway. You'll get sick of me."
The more he drank, the looser his tongue. Dream, who rarely talked to anyone seriously, spilled everything in one drunken rush.
"Maybe you're right. Parents always hand us things we never asked for. But you know—they don't give us anything bad. Just things that don't quite fit."
Kind turned to face him fully, knees touching. He took Fhan's glass and drank from it, deliberately breaking down walls.
"Exactly! That's why life should be about choosing for yourself." Fhan snatched up the bottle, downing it defiantly.
"It's okay if you don't like me. I can wait. I'll still make sure you're happy with me—at least as happy as you are when you're asleep. If you ever want me gone, just say the word. If you want me to only care for BooBoo, I'll do it. Cook, clean whatever you need. Just… give us a chance, Dream. I really do like you."
"…I don't know. I've never managed anything in life. All I do is eat, sleep, work at my computer, feed BooBoo. I've got nothing no future to offer you."
"Then I'll lend you mine. I've already done everything I wanted. My life was steady boring—until I met you and BooBoo. Honestly, I joined that dating app just so I could bring someone home to my grandma before she passes. She never forced me to, but I wanted her to see I wasn't alone. The moment I saw your picture, I swiped right without hesitation… because I liked you."
"…Can you stop saying that word? Like. Every sentence it's always that. I'm not used to it. I've never… I don't understand it!"
His voice cracked as he jabbed a finger into Kind's chest. Too many emotions surged inside him, overwhelming in a way he'd never dealt with before.
Grab
"Dream, are you drunk? Your face is red, your eyes are hazy…" Kind caught his wrist gently, pressing the back of his hand to Fhan's forehead. Their faces were suddenly close, eyes locked in the dim light.
Push!
Dream shoved him back down onto the seat. "Stay out of my business. I want to drink."
The golden liquid slid past his lips, rushing down so fast it spilled at the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his thin white shirt. The fabric clung to his pale chest, revealing the faint curve of a pink nipple.
Gulp
Kind's throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, heat rushing through him. He quickly snatched the bottle from Dream's hand and took a heavy drink himself.
"I'll drink with you."
Gulp.
"So you can drink, huh, rich boy? Funny, I didn't see you touch a drop when my parents were here."
"I can. I just didn't, out of respect for them. If I'd gotten drunk, it wouldn't have looked good."
"What's that supposed to mean? You transform when you're drunk or something?" Dream chuckled, picturing some fantasy movie scene, amused despite himself. Even drunk, the guy sat straight-backed, sipping carefully, like he was still at some formal dinner.
"No. It just wouldn't have been proper. Not when speaking with elders on an important occasion."
Thud!
Another full bottle landed in front of Kind with a sharp bang. Now each of them had one.
"Fine. Then drink this whole damn bottle. I want to see what you're like drunk. If I can handle that, then maybe—maybe—I'll decide whether to like you back."
"That's what you want?"
"Yeah!"
"…Alright."