It started the way most things between them started — with Duan and his texts.
It was a Saturday morning and he had been awake since eight with absolutely nothing to do. Dom and Fah had gone home for the weekend. The condo was quiet in a way that made his brain restless. So he did what he always did when he had too much time and not enough to fill it with.
He opened Jun's chat.
*Good morning kha. Did you eat breakfast?*
Read. No reply.
*I'm bored. What are you doing today?*
Read. No reply.
*Jun.*
Read. No reply.
*Juuuun.*
Read. No reply.
*I'm literally just asking what you're doing today. You don't have to be so cold all the time. The weather is already doing enough of that.*
He watched the typing bubble appear for the first time in weeks and sat up so fast he nearly fell off his bed.
*Talad Noi. Now leave me alone.*
Duan stared at the message for approximately four seconds.
Then he grabbed his jacket and his keys.
---
Jun arrived at Talad Noi at half past nine with his camera around his neck and his reference notebook tucked under his arm. The morning light was already doing exactly what he needed it to do — filtering through the narrow lanes, catching the texture of the old shophouse walls, casting long shadows across the uneven ground.
He had barely lifted his camera when he heard footsteps behind him.
"You're late. I've been here for ten minutes."
Jun turned around slowly.
Duan stood there with both hands in his pockets and a grin that suggested he was very pleased with himself.
Jun stared at him. Then he turned back around and started walking.
"Go home."
"I'm just here to look around." Duan fell into step beside him easily. "Architecture student. Old buildings. It makes sense."
"Go look around somewhere else."
"This is a public space Jun."
Jun kept walking. Duan kept walking beside him. This was apparently how the morning was going to go.
---
To his credit Duan was quieter than usual once Jun started working. He didn't hover or interrupt. He just drifted alongside him through the narrow lanes with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the old shophouse facades and the rusted signboards and the way the morning light landed differently on every surface.
Jun crouched down to photograph the base of an old doorframe, the wood worn smooth and dark with age. He adjusted his angle, checking the light.
"The grain on that is really something," Duan said quietly from somewhere above him.
Jun didn't respond but he took the shot from a slightly different angle than he'd originally planned.
He moved further down the lane toward an old staircase pressed against the exterior wall of a shophouse, its iron railing eaten through with rust in places, the steps uneven and beautiful. Jun lifted his camera.
"That railing has been load bearing for probably sixty years," Duan said, studying it with his head tilted. "You can see where they reinforced it here." He pointed without touching. "Whoever did that knew what they were doing."
Jun lowered his camera slightly and looked at where he was pointing.
Then he raised it again and took the shot.
They moved through the community like that for the better part of two hours. Jun photographed and Duan occasionally said something that wasn't completely useless and mostly stayed out of the way. Jun would never say it out loud but having someone point out structural details he might have otherwise walked past was not the worst thing.
What was the worst thing was Duan's face every time Jun looked through the viewfinder.
"Stop making that face."
"What face?"
"That face."
"I'm just standing here."
"You're staring."
"You look good when you're concentrating." Duan said it so simply, like it was just a fact he was reporting. "I can't help it."
Jun turned back to his camera. "You're so annoying."
"You've said that before." Duan smiled. "You're still here though."
Jun had absolutely nothing to say to that so he walked further down the lane and pretended he hadn't heard it.
---
By the time Jun had everything he needed the morning had stretched into early afternoon and his stomach was making its opinion known.
"There's a place I really like near here," Duan said, appearing at his shoulder. "The food is genuinely good. You should try it."
Jun looked at him. "Why would I follow you anywhere."
"Because you're hungry and I know this area better than you."
Jun considered this with the expression of someone weighing a minor inconvenience against a practical solution.
He started walking. "Lead the way."
Duan's smile could have powered something.
---
The restaurant was small and warm and the kind of hot that hit you the moment you walked through the door. Jun felt it immediately. They found a table and Jun fanned himself briefly with his notebook while Duan rattled on about the menu with the enthusiasm of someone who had clearly been coming here for years.
"The basil rice here is not like anywhere else. I don't know what they do differently but it's just — you have to try it. Also the pork. Actually everything. Just order everything."
Jun looked at the menu. He ordered his usual — basil stir fry. Two large sets.
Duan looked at the two portions and then at Jun and then back at the menu. He ordered the same. Two large sets.
Jun looked up at him. "Don't waste food."
"I won't."
"I'm serious."
"I can finish it." Duan smiled with complete confidence.
Jun said nothing and put his menu down.
---
They waited for their food and Duan had been doing something with his face for the past few minutes that Jun had been pretending not to notice. A kind of held back energy, like something was sitting right behind his teeth waiting to come out.
"Just ask," Jun said without looking up.
Duan blinked. "What?"
"Whatever it is. Ask it. Keeping things to yourself like that makes me uncomfortable."
Duan straightened up. He was quiet for a moment, choosing his words carefully in a way that was very unlike him.
"Who is Than?"
The name landed quietly between them.
Jun looked at him. "How do you know that name?"
"I overheard you and Chawin talking at the cafeteria. A few weeks ago." Duan held his gaze. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to listen."
Jun was still for a moment. Then he leaned back in his chair.
"It's not a big deal," he said. His voice was even, the way it always was. "Than was a close friend. We talked a lot, spent a lot of time together. I didn't think much of it." He paused. "One time he invited me to a friend's birthday at a bar. He got drunk." Another pause. "He tried to take advantage of me."
The air at the table shifted.
Duan's jaw tightened. Something moved behind his eyes that wasn't his usual warmth — something harder and much less patient. He wanted to say something. Several things. None of them particularly calm.
He breathed through it slowly.
"I'm sorry that happened to you," he said carefully.
Jun watched him work through it and said nothing.
"If you're curious about something," Jun said after a moment, his expression returning to its usual steadiness, "just ask me directly. I'd rather that."
Duan looked at him. Then a slow smile spread across his face.
That was progress. That was absolutely progress.
---
The food hadn't arrived yet and Jun was already starting to feel the heat of the restaurant settling into his skin. He reached up to fan himself with his hand.
Duan reached into his bag and produced the small handheld fan, clicked it on and held it up without a word.
The gentle breeze caught Jun's bangs and lifted them slightly, cooling the faint sheen of sweat at his forehead. Jun looked at him. Duan looked back, holding the fan steady, expression completely open.
Jun studied him for a long moment. Like he was trying to find something underneath all that warmth and ease. Reading him.
"Why do you actually like me," Jun said.
Duan opened his mouth immediately. "Your skin—"
Jun's expression shifted in a very specific way.
Duan closed his mouth. Swallowed. Actually thought about it this time.
"You look mature when you work," he said finally, quieter than usual. "I've watched you without you knowing. The way you focus. You look like someone who really means what they do." He paused. "I liked that."
Jun didn't say anything. He looked at the table for a moment and then back up.
"Why architecture," he asked.
Duan blinked at the subject change. Then smiled. "I like tall buildings."
Jun looked at him.
And then, quietly, almost privately, he laughed. Not a big laugh — just a short soft exhale through his nose with the corner of his mouth pulling up. There and gone in a second.
Duan's whole face lit up like someone had switched him on.
"You're so cute—"
Jun's expression flattened back immediately. He picked up his water and looked away.
"I didn't say anything," he said.
---
The food arrived and they ate without much talking.
Jun finished both plates steadily and without ceremony, the way he always ate — quietly, efficiently, like it was simply something that needed to be done. He didn't look up once.
Across the table Duan had slowed dramatically somewhere around the second half of his first plate. By the time he reached the last few spoonfuls of the second his jaw was moving with a determination that his eyes did not share.
He finished it.
He set his spoon down very carefully.
Jun did not look up. He did not say a word. He had warned him.
Duan quietly loosened his belt one notch under the table.
---
When the bill came Jun reached for it without hesitation.
"I've got it," Duan said, his hand landing on the tray first.
"Split it."
"No."
"Duan—"
"You can pay next time." He picked up the tray and stood before Jun could argue further.
Jun looked at him for a brief moment. Then let it go.
Outside the restaurant Jun's phone was already out. A white car rolled up to the curb smoothly and Jun turned and held his phone up, screen facing Duan.
The ride app. Already booked.
"I was going to offer—"
Jun opened the door and got in. It closed behind him with a clean click.
Duan stood on the pavement and watched the car pull away. He raised one hand in a wide wave, elbow going, the full thing, at a car whose passenger was definitely not looking back.
He stood there for a moment after it turned the corner.
Then he smiled to himself and started walking.