Moving closer, Sud’s warm breath tickles my ear as he says, “I’m going to put my cock in you and fuck you until your toes curl and you can make as much noise as you want.” As I’m tingling from head to toe with that thought, he brings his lips to my mouth and kisses me slowly, his tongue tangling with mine. My hand reaches into his pajama pants and his into mine, and we stroke each other as we kiss until we can’t concentrate enough to keep it up, then, foreheads pressed together and breath coming fast and hard between us, we make each other fly for what seems like forever.
“That was fantastic,” I say when I can speak.
“It always is with you,” Sud says before kissing my temple.
“Aw, you’re so romantic.” I tickle him, making him jerk.
After a moment, Sud asks, “Have you decided where you’re going to live this school year?”
“Goodnight,” I say, rolling over so my back’s to him. Grabbing Fuzzy, I close my eyes and listen to Sud chuckling. He wants me to live at his place with him. I kind of want it, too. I guess I’m just being difficult. I know Peach’s brother hates the dorm and would really like to move into the apartment. I think everyone expected me to move in with Sud in August, but I stubbornly stood my ground.
I guess the real reason is I don’t want to feel like Sud’s taking care of me. The dorm and then the apartment gave me a small feeling of autonomy I’ve never had before as the boy who was always shuffled around between people, never truly belonging anywhere.
But living with Sud would be so nice. We could sleep together like this every night. It would also be a good cover for our relationship as far as work goes. If we’re roommates for school, we have a reason to be together every night.
I’m going to do it. Probably.
Chapter Thirty-two: Sud
Noi surprised me this morning by telling me he’s going to move his stuff from the apartment he shares with Bua and Peach to my place. He’s been resisting the idea, and I was giving up hope. I can’t help but smile when I think about it.
I’ve spent the morning cleaning the apartment. Noi is out running errands, and then he’s going to go pack.
Around noon, I get a text message from him saying he’s packing, and he’ll text me when he was finished so I can come help him move his stuff.
Half an hour later, I get another text.
My parents are in Bangkok and they called to say they’re coming to pick me up for lunch! What do you think they want?
Since the Somprasongs normally see Noi only once or twice a year, and usually in their home, I’m as confused as Noi is. I tap out a quick text back.
I’ll be right there.
The dots that show Noi’s typing a message appear and disappear on the screen, and I know he’s trying to talk himself into telling me not to come, but I’m already grabbing my keys and wallet. I’m halfway to my car by the time his next text comes through, and I stop in the parking lot to read it.
That’s okay. I can handle it.
Too late. Be there in ten. Don’t leave without me.
The day is dreary and overcast, the sky threatening imminent rain. Therefore, the traffic is bad as people forego walking or using motosais and take cars and buses instead. When I get to the apartment building, Noi is pacing the pavement outside. I park and climb out of my car. As I jog toward him, I spot Somchai and Supaporn Somprasong making their way toward him from the other direction, and I slow down, observing them from a distance. I’ve never seen them before except in a photo Noi used to have by his bed until he was around nine or ten years old. I never asked him why it disappeared.
His father is only around 179 centimeters tall and has a lithe build like Noi. His hair is dark and sprinkled with gray, and his expression is stern. His mother is petite and would be attractive if not for the sour look on her face. I can’t help but feel grateful that Noi did not have to grow up with them. How could these two miserable people have created such a wonderful person?
They don’t hug him. Noi’s father shakes hands with Noi as though they are business associates. His mother only nods to him. Anger simmers in my gut, because Noi deserves so much more.
Over the years, every time Noi answered his parents’ summons to visit his childhood home, he came back wearing a cloak of sadness that lasted for days. Pah always drove him there but was never invited inside. Although he knew Noi could be there for hours, he never left, afraid Noi might need him. When they would return home, I always rushed outside to meet them, and Pah would quietly instruct me to give Noi a little time before talking to him. Hours later, as I sat reading or doing homework on my bed, Noi would come quietly into my room and curl up beside me.
He never talked about the visits to his parents’ house. Sensing he needed affection, I drowned him in it, wanting to make up for what he never got from them. Now, with the confirmation of how they are with him right before my eyes, I’m glad I did that.
Despite what I suspected all along, I’ve held a seed of hope that maybe one day Noi’s parents would come around—realize their mistake in not being involved in his life and wish to make amends. But, standing here, watching them treat their son like a virtual stranger, I know that will never happen.
Determined to shield him as best I can, I move forward. He’s wearing his navy dress pants with a white button-down shirt, and he’s slicked his hair back. He looks as though he’s going to a job interview rather than lunch with his parents, and that makes my heart ache even more.
His face lights up when he catches sight of me, and that strengthens my resolve not to leave him alone with them. I’m no longer a kid. The Somprasongs will have to go through me to get to Noi.
Giving the two elders a stiff wai, I stand beside Noi, close enough to clearly relay that I am there for him.
“Sud,” Noi’s mother says, somehow managing to look straight down her nose at me even though she’s much shorter, “whata nice surprise.” Her tone sounds more like she means the opposite. “We didn’t expect to see you.”