You Are Every Season - Book 2

Four

Warning: brief mention of mature content.

Mew watched with mischievous satisfaction as Gulf shifted about uncomfortably on the breakfast bar stool. The climax of the previous night's anniversary celebration had seen him bent in half over the mixing desk as Mew ploughed him from behind. Tingling at the memory, the alpha could still hear Gulf's ragged, euphoric cries as he had orgasmed, probably destroying hundreds of thousands of bahts' worth of recording equipment in the process.

"Do you need a cushion, Gulf?", Mew leant to whisper in his ear, enjoying his provocation immensely as he sniggered, anticipating his faen's reaction.

A crimson tide crept up Gulf's neck, then across his ears and face as... "Bastard! Don't you dare!", he hissed.

Mew's mother looked up from her bowl of muesli at the noise. Gulf have her a weak smile, before feigning an urgent need to check something on his phone, lowering his eyes with a silent inner scream. Gulf loved to play, loved to live dangerously...but not in front of his parents-in-law. No, that would be one of his only limit lines.

Not that the Jongcheveevats hadn't been supportive of Mew and Gulf's relationship. Having been introduced to Mew's young omega partner in the early days of their union, the family were aware of the journey the two men had taken to reach their status as mates. Mates with 'pure love' who had chosen to not yet mark one another. It was all highly irregular, sure, but - as Mew's father had sighed resignedly: "I have long since known that there would come a day when Suppasit would choose to do things his own way. First his music and now this. He's his own man now - so be it". And Mew had felt instantly closer to his Phor at those words.

The alpha loved to watch Gulf interact with his family. His initial terse awkwardness - after all, he had so little experience of family dynamics himself - had, over months and years, morphed into careful respect and maturity. Never was Gulf more polite than when in the presence of his parents in law. It warmed Mew to know that his mate made that effort, would go against all of his own basic instincts, simply because he loved him and wanted to please him (not that he would admit to that, not in this lifetime).

With Mew's sister Jom, in contrast, Gulf seemed even younger than his twenty-four years, so carefree. The two really seemed to bring out the silliest, sassiest sides of the other - so much so that Mew often just left them to their own fun, heading alone to the study to catch up on Wings of Jongcheveevat paperwork. The two nongs would be busy for hours, treating each other to avant- garde makeovers and dancing around the palatial living room, hips shaking, singing at top volume but in all the wrong keys.

Yes, Mew smiled fondly to himself - that was his Gulf. Always an enigma, always a contradiction. Always a free bird, ferociously independent and unapologetically complex. He would make a wonderful parent one day, Mew's mind said. Wait...what?!?! Where had that come from? 'Getting
clucky because you turned thirty-one, Grandpa?', he teased internally, brushing aside the initial stray thought.

Tuning back into the morning's conversation, Mew's father was asking Gulf about his plans for graduation day.

"Will you be attending any part of the events, Suppasit?", he turned to Mew.

"I hope so Phor" Mew confirmed, "I'm planning to speak with the events team at the university to discuss a reason for me to be present at the official ceremony. Perhaps making a donation to support grassroots graduate business projects, or something?".

His parents nodded in agreement, smiling supportively at Gulf.

It was a delicate balance for the two men, their public and private lives. Having agreed in the first weeks of their relationship that only their closest friends and Mew's family should know that they were a couple, so they had lived so far. Behind closed doors.

It wasn't that they weren't proud of their love. Both were unwaveringly brave when it came to the other. But having grown up in the unforgiving glare of media spotlight, Mew was acutely aware of the toxicity and expectations that came with such exposure. He could well imagine the webs that would be spun: gold-digger Gulf, poor orphan victim Gulf, bisexual man-whore Gulf, darker- skinned lower omega Gulf, aggressive hothead Gulf, and so on and so on.

No, Mew wouldn't let that happen until both were in position and ready for it. So - with a vague cover narrative that Gulf was a Wings of Jongcheveevat intern to explain his contact with the family (should he ever be photographed) - the two simply lived together at their condo and closed their door to all but their inner circle, for now. It was the safest way.

But there would come a day - a day just around the next corner - when that door would be kicked down mercilessly, and the loosest lips of Thailand would be uttering their names in vain.