Ebb and Flow - Book 1

Five

"Fucking prick!" Gulf shouted at the night sky once outside in the quietness of the car park.

"Aaaarrrgggh", he bellowed through clenched teeth, kicking the dustbins that lined up against the outer wall of the building. One of the lids clattered onto the tarmac, clashing angrily before spinning round, round, the jarring sound echoing into the atmosphere before it slowed to a stop.

Quiet was restored, with only Gulf's heavy breaths of impotent frustration heard above the gentle, incessant hum of traffic from the direction of the city.

But then another sound. Footsteps, approaching. Gulf - who had leant back against the brick wall, head tilted upwards as if to seek stars that the smog and lights of his Bangkok home rarely revealed - turned abruptly, ready to confront whoever it was. Primed to attack, because attack was his defence.

Mew Suppasit stood to the left of him, keeping a safe distance away as if he knew he needed to. Gulf knew who the man was - well, most people in Thailand did in fact. But it wasn't only because he'd seen him on the cover of all of those magazines as 'Most Eligible Bachelor 2020', or even because they'd analysed so many of his interviews in his university seminars. It was because he'd watched Mew take to the stage earlier that evening and in that moment had felt his omega heart slow, slow, slow, almost to a stop. Each beat was like a bass drum - deep, resonant, powerful. Like his heart was calling out to another, waiting for a reply, he thought now, then shook his head dismissively.

"What the hell do you want?", Gulf spat out instead.

Without reply, Mew bent down to pick up the fallen dustbin lid, placing it back into position before straightening up and wiping his hands against his navy suit pants. Still not uttering a word, an ambiguous smile played on his lips as he looked at Gulf.

Suddenly feeling that his nails were digging into his palms again, Gulf busied himself with pulling a packet of cigarettes from his trouser pocket, before lighting up and drawing a long drag, inhaling back deeply - only once - before dropping the cigarette to the floor and extinguishing it with the heel of his shoe.

Smoke spiralled out of his nostrils as he exhaled. And the two men just stared openly at one another - brown eyes to brown eyes, alpha to omega, bass drum calling bass drum.