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“What we have now…” Pat was looking right into his eyes, like he knew. “What should we call it?”
Pran knew the game they were playing. Pat didn’t want an answer, he already had it. He didn’t care if Pran didn’t want him to know yet, if he wasn’t ready. That’s how Pat usually is: he would take what he wanted from people without looking back at what he had caused, who he had hurt. Pran refused to be just another one of his mistakes.
“If we’re not enemies,” Pat kept talking, eyes turning slightly red as the words came out of his mouth. “Could we be friends?” There was hope in his voice, Pran could tell.
There was no way they could ever be friends. Everything with Pat was always so complicated. Having to sneak around, having to lie to his friends, having to think about what Pat could be doing, where he was, all of the time, was too much for him. Pran didn’t enjoy hiding in the dark just because of the tiny hope something would change.
But he wanted to, so badly, for things to be different. He wished for a life where confessing his feelings for a guy wasn’t as hard as it was now.
“Why?” Pran felt one tear roll down his face and desperately wanted to wipe it away. “Do you want us to be friends?” He didn’t mean to say it like that. Like it was a challenge.
But apparently, Pat took it that way. He looked at Pran, a slight smirk on his face that disappeared almost immediately, accompanied with a mocking tear rolling down his cheek. What did he had to cry about? Did he feel bad to humiliate Pran like this? Was he finally feeling some sympathy?
“No.”
Simple as that. Pran felt his chest get heavy, and his body felt like it wasn’t his own. He tried to look away, unable to take any more of this pain. Never, in a million years, Pran thought that getting rejected could hurt like this. Was this what people called a ‘heartbreak’? Cause if it was, he thought he might die from it. He wanted to walk away, he had every intention to.
But then, Pat took a step forward. Pran did too.
Pat was like waves. Knocking him right back down as soon as he tried swim away, to save himself. With Pat’s lips on his own, Pran felt like he was drowning.
It lasted no more than 20 seconds, but it felt like a lifetime. It felt like that was where he was meant to be; looking into Pat’s eyes with his breath against his lips. Pran felt something bloom inside his chest: the foolish hope for a happy ending.
He knew better that anybody that it was impossible. There was no way he could stand in front of the world and tell people Pat was his. The only thing he could was drag Pat’s face down to kiss him again, because if that moment was all they were ever going to get, he was going to make it last.
Pat’s hand was on his face, and Pran felt like his whole body was on fire. He was being demanding, like he was with everything else, and Pran surrendered. He melted into his mouth and let him have control, as long as he kept kissing him.
Pran wanted him closer. He needed to touch, to feel, to hold Pat against him so tightly that they would be chest to chest, unable to think about anything else.
He knew he was being greedy. He knew things could only get worse from that moment, he knew it, but the sound Pat was making, his breath heavy like he couldn’t control himself, like he couldn’t help but devour Pran with his mouth, drove him absolutely insane. He didn’t think he could ever stop kissing Pat. He didn’t want to.
However, life never gave Pran what he wanted. Life gave him what it was meant for him.
Pran knew he looked completely wrecked: teary eyes, lips swollen and face flushed with red. He regretted opening his eyes the moment he did it. Pat looked composed, his breath a little shaky, but nothing much. He was looking at Pran like he was the answer to all of his problems. Pran was afraid it might be the opposite of that. Pat gave him a comforting smile, like he was saying ‘Everything’s okay, we have each other’.
That was a lie. They didn’t just have each other.
They had parents who hated each other, friends that couldn’t stop fighting and a fucking rivalry between their faculties. It wasn’t as easy as Pat’s smile made it out to be. They were both supposed to be something. They were supposed to be class president, the captains of the rugby team, the leader of their friend groups. There was no time for all of this nonsense, and Pran wished he realized that sooner. He held back the tears as he walked away without looking back.
Kissing Pat was like being in the middle of the ocean. Pran had worked so hard to push all those feelings down, to hide them so deeply inside himself so they would never see the light of day. Now, everything was ruined.
There was no life boat, no one who was coming to his rescue, no one who even knows that he’s lost. And Pran was drowning.