#
The text came on a Thursday evening.
*Pack for two nights. Comfortable clothes. I'll pick you up Saturday at seven.*
Jun read it twice. Looked at the time. Looked at the text again.
He typed back. *Where are we going.*
Three dots appeared. Then: *It's a surprise.*
Jun set his phone down and looked at the ceiling of his condo for a moment.
Then he picked it back up. *Duan.*
*Just pack. Trust me.*
Jun put the phone face down on the table and went back to what he was doing and did not think about it.
He thought about it for the rest of the evening.
---
Saturday arrived and Duan arrived with it, seven on the dot, leaning against his car in the morning light with the particular energy of someone who had been awake and ready for hours and was enjoying having information that someone else didn't.
Jun came down with his bag and looked at him.
"Where are we going," he said.
"Good morning to you too." Duan took his bag and put it in the boot before Jun could argue about it.
"Duan."
"You'll see when we get there." He opened the passenger door and held it with the expression of someone who had absolutely no intention of saying anything further on the subject.
Jun looked at him for a moment.
Got in.
Duan closed the door, came around to his side, got in, and pulled out of the carpark with a smile he was making no effort to contain.
Jun looked out the window. "At least tell me how long the drive is."
"About three hours."
"Three hours."
"You can sleep."
"I'm not going to sleep."
He slept for an hour and a half.
---
He woke up to different air.
That was the first thing — the air through the vents had changed, cooler and cleaner, carrying something green in it. Outside the window the landscape had opened up, low hills and wide sky, the flat sprawl of the city completely gone. Trees lined the road on both sides, the kind of dense and serious trees that belonged to somewhere that took itself seriously.
Jun sat up and looked around.
"Where are we," he said.
"Almost there," Duan said.
Ten minutes later they turned off the main road and onto something narrower, and the trees pressed closer, and then they turned again and the trees opened up and Jun saw it.
A resort sat in the middle of a wide green property, low buildings in dark wood set against the hillside, the kind of place designed to look like it belonged to the landscape rather than having been placed on top of it. In the distance, hills. Above them, open sky. The air coming through the window now was genuinely cool.
Jun looked at it.
Then at Duan.
Duan was watching him with the expression of someone waiting for a verdict.
"Khao Yai," Jun said.
"Khao Yai," Duan confirmed.
Jun looked back at the property. The hills. The sky. Something in his chest settled quietly.
"You planned all of this," he said.
"I've been planning it for two weeks." Duan pulled into the carpark. "I looked up everything. There's a vineyard nearby, a waterfall if you want to do something, good food. Or we do nothing. Whatever you want." He turned the engine off and looked at Jun. "I just wanted to take you somewhere new."
Jun looked at him for a moment.
"Thank you," he said. Simply, the way he said things he meant.
Duan's dimple appeared. "Don't thank me yet. Check in first."
---
The room was more than Jun had expected.
Wide windows that looked out over the hills, the glass letting in the cool air and the green of everything beyond it. A bed that was enormous and clearly chosen with intention. A deep soaking tub in the bathroom that Jun looked at and said nothing about. A private terrace with two chairs facing the view.
Duan dropped onto the bed immediately and spread his arms out and looked at the ceiling with the satisfaction of someone whose plan had come together exactly as intended.
Jun stood at the window and looked at the hills.
The light was doing something particular out there — the morning sun coming through the cloud cover at an angle that made the green of the hills look almost unreal, the kind of light that made Jun's hand move toward where his sketchbook would be.
He'd brought it.
"There's a market in the afternoon," Duan said from the bed. "And the vineyard does a tour at four if you want. Or we just stay here."
"We can do the vineyard," Jun said.
"Yeah?"
"I want to see the landscape from up there."
Duan sat up and looked at him at the window. The light was on Jun's face and his eyes were doing the thing they did when something had gotten into them — focused, slightly far away, already looking at the shapes of things.
"Okay," Duan said, quieter. "Vineyard at four."
---
They spent the morning doing nothing in particular.
Jun sketched on the terrace while the clouds moved over the hills and the air stayed cool and Duan sat beside him and read something on his phone and occasionally said things that didn't require a response and didn't seem to need one. It was easy in the specific way that only happened when two people had stopped performing ease and were just inside it.
At some point Duan put his phone down and watched Jun sketch.
Jun felt it. "What."
"Nothing." A pause. "You look good when you're working."
"You've said that before."
"Still true."
Jun kept his eyes on the page. The corner of his mouth moved slightly.
They went to the market in the afternoon — a small local one, nothing like the city markets, vendors selling things that came from the ground nearby. Jun moved through it slowly and Duan walked beside him and bought things without consulting anyone and handed Jun half of everything and Jun ate all of it without comment.
At one stall Duan spent five minutes negotiating over something small. Jun stood beside him and waited. When Duan turned around victorious Jun was already looking somewhere else but had clearly been watching the whole thing.
"You didn't have to do that," Jun said.
"I got a good price."
"You spent five minutes on something that cost fifty baht."
"It's the principle," Duan said, and handed Jun the thing he'd bought, which was a small wrapped candy that Jun looked at and then put in his pocket.
Duan saw him do it. Said nothing. Smiled at the next stall.
---
The vineyard sat on a slope with the hills behind it and the valley spread out below, rows of vines running down toward the lower ground in clean lines. The late afternoon light had gone gold and long and the air up there was cooler still, carrying something that smelled like grass and earth and the particular sweetness of fruit on the vine.
Jun stood at the edge of the slope and looked at it.
Duan stood beside him and didn't say anything for a while.
"This is what you wanted to see," Duan said eventually.
"Yes," Jun said.
"Is it what you expected?"
Jun looked at the rows of vines, the way the light caught each one, the shadow between them. The hills in the background doing what hills did in this light — going blue at the edges, the far ones almost disappearing into the sky.
"Better," he said.
Duan looked at the side of his face and felt something warm and full move through his chest that had become familiar over the past months and never got smaller.
They did the tour. Jun asked the guide questions that were specific and unhurried and the guide, who was used to polite nodding, visibly appreciated it. Duan watched Jun process information the way he processed everything — completely, storing it somewhere.
After the tour they sat on the terrace of the vineyard restaurant as the sun went down, wine in hand, the valley below them going orange and then pink and then a deep quiet blue.
Duan looked at Jun across the table.
Jun was watching the valley. The wine had put a faint warmth in his face and his eyes were soft in the evening light and he looked, more than Duan had ever seen, at rest.
"Hey," Duan said.
Jun looked at him.
"I love you," Duan said. Casually, the way he'd started saying it — not a declaration, just a fact being stated, the way you'd say the sky is blue or the food is good.
Jun looked at him for a moment.
"I know," he said. Then, quieter, the way he'd started doing: "I love you too."
Duan smiled into his wine.
Jun looked back at the valley.
---
They ate dinner at a small place near the resort that Duan had looked up and Jun had not expected to be as good as it was. The kind of restaurant that had no business being this good given how unassuming it looked from the outside. Jun ate more than he usually did and Duan watched this happen with quiet satisfaction and didn't say anything about it.
They walked back to the resort through the cool night air, the sky above them enormous and full of stars the way it never was in the city. Jun tilted his head back and looked up at it.
Duan watched him do it.
"You really do love open things," he said.
"I told you," Jun said, still looking up. "The scale of it."
"Does it still make you cry?"
Jun lowered his head and looked at him flatly.
Duan grinned.
Jun walked ahead. Duan caught up and found Jun's hand in the dark and Jun let him take it and they walked the rest of the way back like that, the stars above them and the cool air around them and the resort lights coming closer through the trees.
---
The room was quiet and warm when they came in, the hills outside the window gone dark, just the outline of them against the night sky.
Jun set his things down. Duan closed the curtains halfway and turned back around and Jun was already looking at him from across the room.
Something in the quality of the look was different from the daytime. The cool outdoor air was still on their skin and the room was dim and Jun was looking at Duan the way he sometimes did when he'd made a decision and was done waiting to act on it.
Duan stayed where he was.
Jun crossed the room.
He stopped in front of Duan and reached up and took his face in both hands and kissed him — not soft, not tentative, just direct and certain, the way Jun did everything when he'd stopped holding back. Duan's hands went to his waist immediately and Jun kissed him deeper and walked him back until Duan's back met the wall and Jun pressed in close and kissed him like he had a point to make.
Duan pulled back enough to breathe. "Jun—"
"Don't talk," Jun said, and kissed his jaw, his throat, his collarbone, mouth open and warm dragging down while his hands worked at the buttons of Duan's shirt.
Duan tipped his head back against the wall and let him.
Jun got the shirt open and spread his hands flat across Duan's chest, feeling him breathe, and looked up at him. His eyes were very dark.
"Bed," he said.
---
Duan walked Jun back toward the bed and Jun went, sitting down on the edge and looking up at him with dark eyes and nothing composed left in his expression.
Duan leaned down and kissed him and Jun kissed back immediately, hands sliding into his hair, pulling him down. Duan pressed him back onto the mattress and Jun went without resistance — just lay back against the pillow and looked up at Duan with the particular openness he only had in this room, in this specific kind of dark.
Duan took him apart slowly.
He moved down Jun's body with his mouth — jaw, throat, collarbone, the center of his chest — and Jun's breathing changed immediately, uneven and quick, his hands moving to Duan's hair and gripping. Duan pressed his lips to Jun's stomach and felt him tense and kept going lower and Jun's hips shifted and a sound escaped him that had nothing held back in it.
Duan took his time.
Jun's thighs fell open. His hands stayed in Duan's hair, not pushing, just holding, fingers tightening every time Duan did something right, which was often. The sounds he made were continuous and soft and entirely unguarded and Duan felt each one go through him like something electric.
Jun's stomach tensed. "Duan—"
Duan hummed and felt Jun shudder.
He worked him until Jun's grip in his hair pulled him up and Jun looked at him with glassy eyes and swollen lips and an expression that Duan would spend the rest of his life being grateful he got to see.
Duan kissed him and Jun kissed back desperately and his hands went to Duan's waistband immediately.
They dealt with the rest of their clothes and Duan reached for the nightstand and Jun watched him with dark eyes and when Duan looked back at him Jun lifted his arms and pulled him down.
"You're beautiful," Duan said against his temple.
Jun made a sound that wasn't words.
Duan got the lube and took his time with this too — patient and careful, watching Jun's face at every step, Jun with his head back and his lips parted and his hands gripping the sheets, rolling his hips down onto Duan's fingers and making small desperate sounds that echoed in the quiet room.
"More," Jun said. His voice had completely left its usual register.
Duan gave him more.
By the time Jun was pulling at his shoulders Duan reached for the condom and Jun watched him with eyes that had gone completely dark.
Duan lined up and pressed forward and felt Jun take him and both of them went still.
Jun's head dropped back into the pillow. His hands gripped Duan's arms. His chest heaved.
Duan pressed his forehead to Jun's temple. "Okay?"
Jun nodded. His jaw was tight. "Move," he said. "Please."
Duan moved.
---
Jun was loud from the start this time.
No holding back, no trying to stay quiet — just sounds, continuous and unguarded, his body arching up to meet every thrust, hands dragging down Duan's back hard enough to sting. Duan felt everything and moved steady and deep and watched Jun come apart beneath him in real time.
He found the angle that made Jun's whole body lock.
Jun made a sound that bounced off the walls and his hands flew to the headboard and gripped.
Duan stayed exactly there.
"There," Jun said, voice completely broken. "Don't stop — right there—"
Duan didn't stop.
Jun's back arched clean off the mattress. His sounds turned into something continuous and wrecked and beautiful and Duan braced over him and kept going and felt Jun's legs wrap around him and pull him deeper and the tight heat of him and the sounds he was making went straight through Duan's spine.
Jun came with Duan's name torn out of him, untouched, clenching around Duan so tight that Duan groaned against his throat and followed him over with his hips pressed deep and Jun's hands gripping the back of his head and both of them shaking.
They stayed connected.
Breathing.
The room was completely quiet except for them. Outside the window the hills were dark shapes against the night sky and the stars were still there and somewhere far below them the valley was doing whatever valleys did at this hour.
Jun pressed his lips to Duan's shoulder. Once. Rested there.
Duan turned over carefully and Jun moved with him and they ended up facing each other in the dim room, close, the warmth between them significant.
Jun's hair was everywhere. His eyes were half closed and he looked — settled, was the only word Duan had for it. Like something in him that was usually held at a slight tension had finally just let go completely.
Duan reached over and pushed his hair back from his face.
Jun let him.
"Good trip?" Duan said.
Jun looked at him. Something moved in his expression that went directly to Duan's chest.
"Good trip," he said.
Duan pulled him in and Jun came without resistance and tucked his face into Duan's neck and Duan held him and felt the full weight of him and thought about a crowded festival and a stranger getting up off the ground and walking away and everything that had happened since.
"Jun," he said.
Jun made a sound against his neck.
"Thank you for letting me in," Duan said.
Jun was quiet for a moment.
His arms tightened around Duan once.
He didn't say anything. He didn't need to.
Outside the stars kept going and the hills kept their shapes in the dark and inside the room it was warm and still and neither of them moved for a very long time.