Eighteen

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Once a double dose of suppressants had begun to take effect and the men's bodies became more their own again, Mew ventured back to the bedroom, where he found Gulf still seated on the floor with his back resting against the wall.

Earlier, Mew had thrown the bottle of pills onto the bed from behind the door, instructing Gulf to take two straight away, before shutting himself in the bathroom, showering as he waited for the medication to reach his blood stream. He didn't fully understand what was happening to them, but he knew that in that state Gulf and himself needed to be kept away from each other at all costs.

So returning to the bedroom now with bowls of spicy cabbage soup and pork dumplings, edging down the wall to rest alongside Gulf and at the same time leaving polite space between them, Mew felt anxious. He could see the turmoil in Gulf's almond shaped eyes. Felt the wall (that he'd been silently chipping away at in every moment they had shared), building up again. He thought that he could hardly see Gulf over that wall now, just those turbulent, troubled eyes.

"Gulf, I hope you know that I would never hurt you?", Mew said openly, as he placed both soup bowls on the cool tiled floor between them.

"I wouldn't let you hurt me" was Gulf's response, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Silence.

Trying again, Mew explained: "I called my friend P'Min while I was in the bathroom. She's a doctor who specialises in ABO relations. I told her what happened and she said she will come straight over to talk to us when her shift at the hospital ends - she should only be another hour or so".

He saw Gulf tense, and then straighten up defiantly..."I don't need a fucking doctor. We had sex, we liked it a bit too much, our bodies got carried away, and so we dealt with it. What else is there to say?"

"I think you know, nong", Mew spoke softly, patiently.

For the next few minutes the only sounds within the room were those of two hungry post-coital men and their bowls of steaming soup.

Nourished and replenished, Mew knew that he needed to begin to climb Gulf's wall again - especially since he desperately wanted him to stay long enough to consult with P'Min.

So he began to talk, began to tell his story, simply wanting Gulf to know him. He talked about his family, how much he loved them all yet how caged he felt at times. Then of his realisation as a 9 year old that he was only interested in other boys. His subsequent relationships of varying lengths but an identical outcome. He told of how his love of creating and listening to music was his solace and one true satisfaction in life. That he loved dogs and Japanese cuisine, hated wearing a tie to business events, preferred showers to baths, planned his daily outfits based on colour superstitions. And that he had an incredible life but had never felt truly alive in the last few years (omitting "Until I met you", for fear of over burdening the other).

As Gulf listened to Mew's story - drawn in by his animated way of expressing ideas - the thorns of anxiety began to blunt. The lump at the back of his throat was swallowed away, the frown
smoothed, and the legs eventually stretched out and then crossed - unconsciously - into a lotus position.

When Mew finished his monologue, Gulf was listening intently, thoughtfully..."Why can't you be a musician, if music is what fulfills you? I don't understand"

"It's not the life that was given to me nong. I have to follow my parents plan and continue their work with Wings of Jongcheveevat - Jom does too"

"But life isn't given to you. It's yours. Life is what you make of it. Your work in the business is important to your family, so continue to do it...but you have to do what's important to yourself as well, or else you will lose yourself. You must be true to yourself. That's what my mae always said".

Mew was taken aback. What Gulf had said was straightforward, yet it had never been said to him before. It made him feel brave. He felt his heart swell at the thought that this special man - the strongest omega, no the strongest person - could think of him that way. As somebody who was more.

It made him vow even more determinedly to keep broaching that wall. Mew was an easy extrovert, a 'people person', so well knew that if he could encourage Gulf to open up a little, then he would be able to extend him by asking pointed questions.

So he began..."Your mae sounds like a very wise woman..."

Ebb and Flow - Book 1Where stories live. Discover now