Chapter Text
Gawin sat on the edge of his bed strumming idly on his guitar. He had thought about posting another cover, but couldn’t decide between Neil Young or something by Jeff Buckley. In the end it was 11pm and he was feeling foggy with exhaustion. After so many weeks of nonstop work, he had a few days of nothing ahead of him. The weight of everything was lifting and all he felt was bloody tired.
He set his guitar on the stand beside his bed and fell back onto the bed, sighing deeply.
“You’re pathetic,” he said aloud in his silent room, then chuckled at how stupid his voice sounded.
Finally, a few chances lately for time on his own, time with his family, a hiking trip with friends, time without Joss. And literally all he could do was try to distract himself from thinking about Joss. He imagined they were both lying on the bed, as they often did in the evening when they shared a hotel room, chatting about the day, staring at the ceiling, too tired to get undressed. Sometimes they fell asleep like that on tour, waking up at 4am from the jetlag, lights still on, still fully dressed in yesterday’s clothes.
He flashed back so vividly to the feeling of standing with bleary eyes in the bathroom, laughing and sputtering toothpaste on his shirt at the sight of Joss’s ridiculous scarecrow hair sticking up at odd angles from burrowing into the bed during their impromptu nap, pointing at his reflection the mirror, making Joss smile back stupidly with the toothbrush poking out of his mouth, dimple in full force. His toothpasty smile, his snorting laugh, all his goofy charm contrasting with his muscly, veiny shoulders.
The smell of Joss’s pillow in the mornings that Gawin would often inhale after he got up before Gawin to head for an early gym session. He told himself he just liked the scent of Joss’s shampoo, but had to laugh at himself for such a bullshit explanation. He also reveled in the smell of Joss’s t-shirts when he borrowed them, the scent of his baseball caps, the aura that surrounded them when they hugged, made of Joss’s deodorant and laundry detergent, and just the warm scent of his skin. It was all Gawin could do to avoid plunging his face into Joss’s neck and breathing like a man coming up out of the water after holding his breath. Double fuck…
Gawin realized his was lying there on his bed, alone, with his eyes closed, smiling to himself like a drunk idiot. But he was stone-cold sober. Unfortunately.
“Fuck, Fluke, get it together.” He was talking out loud to himself a lot lately.
He and Joss had been through so much in the last couple of years. They had so much fun together, and it had been such a ride. Gawin felt so respected and loved and entertained. Fuck, Joss was so funny and kind and fucking sweet. Always watching his boundaries—never stepping too far into his space without the right communication, never interfering with his music. Flirting with him for the fans and making him feel like a princess, but never overstepping off stage. And all of that seemed to come from such a sincere place, the gestures, the hand at the small of his back while they walked across stage, the flirty jokes—it all felt caring but not fake or invasive. And it was all for fun…wasn’t it?
Joss put himself out there constantly for Gawin, inviting him literally everywhere with him, sharing all his best friends, treating him like family. Showing interest in his music, his obscure movie taste, his vinyl collection, his recipes. Listening to every word he said like it was all equally meaningful—even the stupidest ideas or random Dad jokes. Triple fuck.
It was so cliché to fall in love with your acting partner, Gawin thought. Nah, surely not. Well, he used to think that. Or he used to lie to himself and pretend it wasn’t happening. But at some point, he had accepted it. And kept it all contained. Mostly.
“If you guys were going to fuck, you would have by now, right?” Aou had said a couple of nights ago. Gawin had snorted his whiskey sour a little bit up into his nose by gasp-laughing while sipping. It burned like crazy and made him sneeze three times.
“Fuck, warn me before you talk about us fucking,” Gawin said, voice croaking slightly. He coughed a few more times and looked sheepishly up at Aou, feeling his ears burning.
“Oh God, you weren’t kidding then,” Aou replied, his hand flying up to his face in horror….or, was it delight? His eyes were flashing with excitement. “You’re really properly into him,” he said with quiet reverence. “Wow, man. Fuck.” Aou’s eyes widened. He put his hand over Gawin’s on the table and squeezed. Then he broke into a huge grin. “I mean, he’s Joss Way-ar. Technically you’d have to be dead not to find him hot, I guess.”
Aou winked, but then his expression fell at the sight of Gawin’s eyes. They had gone a bit glassy and his chin quivered. Aou tightened his grip on Gawin’s hand.
“What are you gonna do?”
“I really have no idea. I didn’t see this coming,” said Gawin, staring into his cocktail glass for answers. “I mean, I know it sounds obvious, but I really thought we had the perfect working relationship. I thought the chemistry was there, but totally manageable.” He pulled his hand away from Aou’s softly and ran it through his hair, pushing it off his forehead, which was flushed and sweaty.
“I thought I could compartmentalize it. I’ve been doing that for so long, and it was working. But he’s just…. Joss. I mean, he’s a fucking dork. You know him, he’s ridiculous, but he’s also the best. I admire him. He’s so dedicated to everything and everyone. He’s so smart and…no, he’s wise. I told myself that I just admire him. And appreciate him. And then I started smelling his t-shirts.”
Aou put his elbows on the table and his chin on his folded hands. “Babe, you’re fucked.”
The little bar was quiet, with only a couple of small groups sitting around little tables and remixed jazz playing quietly enough that they didn’t have to raise their voices to be heard. It was rather dark, and there was also no sign of them being recognized, but Gawin still instinctively looked around at all corners of the room. You couldn’t be too careful, even in a city as big as Bangkok.
“I start to have the feeling that I have to do something, or else things are going to get weird.” Gawin said, sighing deeply, “But if I do tell him or hit on him or whatever, I know things will get weird.”
“You do not know that. The whole world knows he’s in love with you.”
“Fuck off. You’re not helping.”
“Gawin, I am serious. I mean, I’ve never been totally sure what you feel about him, even though I can’t say I’m completely shocked,” said Aou with another wink. “But that boy fell for you a long, long time ago. I would put money on the fact that he keeps it friendly and professional for your sake. Gawin, he’s the biggest service top on the actual fucking planet. It’s written all over his gorgeous face. He should have a t-shirt printed for identification. Or a nametag! Hello, I’m JOSS, and I’ll be your server…”
Gawin tried to laugh. He felt like his chest was being run over by a steamroller and crushed. There were too many conflicting emotions: fear, anticipation, excitement, lust, amusement, terror, shame? “Why do I feel ashamed? Like I’ve done something wrong somehow?”
“Oh, sweet pea, quit that,” said Aou, walking around the table to sit next to Gawin and putting an arm around his shoulders and giving his upper arm a firm squeeze. This is why Gawin told him first. He had a few friends he knew he could trust in this business, who would understand the situation he was in. But Aou was the only person he could imagine showing this vulnerability to. He would say the right thing. He was a walking advice column. And a cool gay auntie. “You of all people should know that love is love. And queer love is the best love. Don’t you dare feel ashamed.”
Gawin propped his forehead on an open hand. “But I don’t want us to go the way of OhmNanon. What if he rejects me? And what if he doesn’t? What if we have a fling that ends and we don’t want to be in the same room anymore?”
“And what if you end up like us?” Aou turned Gawin’s face to his, winking again. “I think Boom would agree that hooking up with your co-star can actually be a great decision.”
“It’s unrealistic to hope for a relationship like yours.”
“Oh, is it? Do you think I wasn’t shitting myself with fear when we started? Same sport, different game.” He sighed, pulling Gawin’s head over onto his shoulder. “But I’ll tell you something. At some point, the pretending gets too exhausting. We’re actors, but playing roles in our own lives will make us all crazy.”
He turned to Gawin, taking his friend’s hands in his own. Gawin was starting to feel a bit manhandled. “Sweetheart, it’s your life. But from where I sit, this is a rare opportunity. Maybe once in a lifetime?” He laughed a breathy laugh, reaching for his drink.
“And if you don’t bag him, I may try.”
Gawin managed to look offended for two seconds. Then they both burst into giggles, breaking the seriousness. They moved onto other topics, but Gawin’s mind never left Joss that night. And he could tell by the occasional soft look of, what, sympathy, sorrow, envy? that Aou was now fully aware.
That was last week. And nothing had really “happened” since, besides Gawin sinking further and further into his thoughts, reviewing the last years like a cheesy tiktok edit with “Everything is Romantic” playing. Falling in love again and again (and again and again and again). Fuck fuck fuck.
Gawin threaded his hands into his hair and massaged the thoughts away from his brain. Unsuccessfully.