Chapter Text
Peem knows that Q is watching him, despite his supposed focus on his most recent, spectacular-as-ever work. Peem, in turn, is just staring at his own canvas, entirely unproductive.
“You could just not go, you know?” Q declares, in that casual by-the-way tone of voice he only ever uses when, in reality, he isn’t the least bit casual about the topic at all.
Peem sighs. He knows that Q is worried, but… “I’m not going to bail on Fai, just because her cousin got shitty taste in men, Q,” he returns.
Q snorts in agreement. “So shitty.”
“Oi!” Peem can’t help but grin at his best friend. “That’s my taste you’re insulting as well.”
Q waves his paintbrush dismissively, focusing back on the painting he intends to give Fai as a gift for her wedding, an apology for not being able to attend the ceremony himself. “Brief bout of insanity on your part,” he declares. “You gave that dick all of what? Two weeks of your time before ending it again? And you never made it past the point of movie dates or getting coffee together. Doesn’t count.”
Peem grins at Q. His best friend who always knows what to say to make him feel better, always, always on Peem’s side of things. Unwavering. Peem thinks that opening an art gallery-slash-studio-slash-painting-workshop with Q after uni was the best decision of his entire life.
Very much in contrast to any decisions he has ever made in his dating life. Well, if you can call his one, singular attempt at dating Kluen during uni a ‘dating life’ at all, even less so since that attempt lasted all of three weeks.
Sure, Kluen had a crush on him, and they’d already been kind of friends, so Peem let himself be talked into giving dating Kluen a try. However, Peem had been perfectly upfront about not returning Kluen’s feelings from the start, had even told Kluen that he might just not be wired that way, considering his lack of interest in anyone at all up to that point of his life. Still, Kluen had insisted on just wanting a chance, so Peem had given in, agreeing to go on a date with Kluen.
In the end, it had lasted for less than a month. They only went on a couple of dates in total and never went further than a few relatively chaste kisses before Peem straightforwardly told Kluen that the feelings just weren’t setting in for him and it might be better to just break it off. To save their friendship. Or so he had thought at the time.
The most frustrating part? Peem had absolutely believed Kluen when he said he was fine with it. Sad, but fine. Right until Q had almost gotten himself suspended for near-enough bashing Kluen’s skull in after hearing him trashtalk Peem behind his back.
Q meets his eyes, serious. “You know he’s gonna be there and spend the entire evening trying to make you as uncomfortable as possible, all the while smiling his smug little asshole smile.”
Peem sighs again. “I know,” he replies. Because he does. It’s been more than a year since they all graduated and supposedly moved on with their lives, two years since his and Kluen’s brief attempt at dating but, according to their few shared acquaintances, it seems like Kluen still hasn’t gotten over it, still tending to insert the occasional meanspirited comment about Peem into conversations from time to time.
Peem generally prides himself for his excellent taste in friends. How Kluen slipped past that, even he doesn’t know.
Of course, Fai asked Peem whether he would be alright when her cousin announced her plus one and of course he told her not to worry. He is beyond honored that she asked him to be part of her bridal party and he’s not going to bail on her just because Kluen is going to be there. They’re all adults. It will be fine.
“It’ll be fine,” he proclaims out loud, focusing back on the canvas in front of him, determined to finish the commission their studio got two weeks ago. “Several others from uni will be there as well, so I just have to deal with him on my own during the formal parts.” And during the rehearsals, the pre-wedding organization, the photo shoots, possibly the dress fitting, and so on. Still, it’ll be fine.
“Mm,” his best friend hums right back at him, agreeing, unsurprised, disapproving.
It will be fine, Peem affirms to himself.
Peem is not fine. He is drunk and wallowing and his friends aren’t being much help in cheering him up.
“You could just find yourself a date for the wedding,” Toey chimes in. “He knows you won’t make a scene no matter how much of a dick he is being. But if you have a date, he probably won’t risk it.”
Peem smiles at Toey’s worry. Out of all of them, Toey quite possibly took Kluen’s assholish way of dealing with Peem not wanting a relationship the worst, uncompromisingly vindictive the moment he heard about Kluen’s trashtalking. Almost like a personal offense.
“And where would I find a date with less than a month’s notice, Toey?” Peem laughs. Really, his friends are making this into a far bigger deal than it really is. Sure, he’s got no interest in seeing Kluen again or listening to his smiling, pointed comments, but it’s just for one night. Peem can deal.
Mostly, he is worried about Fai. He doesn’t want her wedding party to be overtaken by meanspirited bickering just because Kluen can’t keep his mouth shut about something that should have never been anything beyond two people agreeing not to date in the first place.
Tan snorts inelegantly from his left, halfway sprawled across the table between them. There is humor in his eyes as he grins at Peem. “Peem. My dear friend. If you want a date, no matter the time frame, you could just walk out on the street and smile at any random stranger you meet and they’ll likely follow your pretty face anywhere you might want to take them. Including a wedding. Quite possibly right to the altar.”
Peem chokes, sputtering in protest, ignoring the way he can see Toey trying to hide his grin behind his hand as Q’s cackling laughter mixes with Pun’s giggles and Chain’s snort.
Honestly, his friends. Ridiculous, the lot of them.
Peem knows he is drunk. Like, really drunk.
He is sitting outside, on some random bench in front of the bar where he has been drinking, slumped vaguely sideways, doing his best to ignore how the world is spinning in lazy circles around him despite his closed eyes. Or at least he thinks his eyes are closed. He isn’t entirely sure.
He left the others behind in the bar, claiming to want to go home, not wanting to ruin everyone’s night by being maudlin. But, so what if he is maybe wallowing a little?
He knows full well that he is making a mountain out of a molehill when it comes to meeting Kluen again. It’ll only be one night, maybe a couple of hours of wedding things beforehand, and likely no more than a handful of disparagingly pointed comments directed his way in total.
But, well. Kluen is still his only attempt at a relationship to date, so Peem thinks it fairly reasonable that the unnecessarily dramatic aftermath of said attempt only tends to make him feel like more of an idiot when it comes to these things.
He’s 23 and he hasn’t had a real relationship yet, never even felt that draw to another person which his friends have tried to describe to him for years, ever since Peem realized he might be a little different when it comes to these things. Sure, he can tell when people are good-looking, has rather firm opinions on the matter, even. But it’s rare for him to find anyone attractive and, even then, that part of looking at people and thinking ‘he’s hot, I want to fuck him’ or ‘I wonder what he looks like naked’ just doesn’t happen for him.
Still, he did honestly try with Kluen. He’d also been entirely honest with Kluen before they agreed to try dating. Kluen who had absolutely been lying when he said he was okay with Peem maybe being different. Kluen who Peem thought was his friend and whom he hadn’t thought to protect himself from, sharing things about himself he usually wouldn’t. Only for Kluen to throw all of it right back in his face when they broke up. Or stopped going on dates. Or whatever.
Peem hasn’t really tried since. That one failure only serving to convince him that dating simply isn’t for him. He’ll wait for the day when he finds someone he actually wants and, even if that day never comes, it’s not like he needs a partner to be happy. He is perfectly fine on his own, more than. He has his friends, the studio, his art, his family. Sure, sometimes he wonders, sometimes he watches his friends be happy in their relationships and longs for the same. But mostly he’s happy as he is.
Mostly.
Alas, when going to a wedding that his not-quite-ex-who-turned-out-to-be-something-of-an-asshole will be attending as well? Not so much.
So, now Peem is wallowing. While drunk. On his own. Because his friends deserve to have fun, while he deserves to feel a little maudlin for a night, before going back to being himself tomorrow and reminding himself that a single evening in the presence of his asshole ex really isn’t something to be this dramatic over.
Inconveniently enough, that earlier conversation with his friends about simply finding himself a date to keep him company and to keep assholes away seems to have somewhat gotten stuck in his head. Peem wants to snort. He hasn’t even succeeded in finding himself someone to date under normal circumstances (because Kluen doesn’t count) and Peem is absolutely ignoring the fact that said non-dating status is something he is perfectly content with most of the time, as well as a decision he has deliberately made.
Still, if he hasn’t managed to find someone to date in all his 23 years of life, how would he possibly manage with less than a month to go?
“You okay?” an unfamiliar voice cuts into his fuzzy thoughts.
It takes Peem a couple of moments to realize that whoever it is might actually be speaking to him. He opens his eyes, squints against the hazy light. There is someone standing in front of him, someone tall and broad, blocking out most of the lights that had Peem so dizzy he’d found himself sitting down mere steps after leaving his friends behind in the bar.
He lets his gaze trail upwards, though can’t really make out any details, fuzzy as his sight is. Broad shoulders and fluffily swoopy hair are about the only things that register with him.
“Mhm,” he hums in affirmation. “Just peachy.”
A snort. “Yeah, you look it.”
Peem waves his hand dismissively, still caught up in his thoughts about his… non-datingibility? Un-datingness?
He doesn’t realize the fluffy-haired stranger is still standing in front of him until that same voice cuts into his thoughts once more. “Have we met before?”
Peem frowns. “That’s a lazy pick-up line.” Because he’s good with remembering people and he’s pretty sure he’d have remembered that voice or those shoulders if they had met before.
A snort. “It would be. If I were trying to pick you up.”
“Hmm,” Peem hums in agreement, already having forgotten what they are talking about. He sways a little in place as the bench beneath him gives a jolt and it takes him far longer than it honestly should to realize that the sudden movement is due to someone having sat down next to him.
Oh, he’s warm, Peem thinks distractedly, his right side no longer chilled. Really warm. I like warm.
Another pause, a hum. “Oh. Are you friends with Tan, by any chance?”
“Tan?” Peem asks brightly, happy to hear one of his friends mentioned. “Mhm. Tan is a good friend,” he asserts solemnly. “Tan is really good at friending.” He frowns. That sounded strange.
Huffed laughter and Peem immediately grins back. “He is,” his warm, broad-shouldered, fluffy-haired new friend says.
Because Tan’s friends are his friends. Or however that saying goes.
“You know Tan?” Peem is always happy to talk about his friends.
“Since highschool. I think I’ve seen you in his pictures.”
Peem blinks at him, widens his eyes in an attempt to focus better, if only to see whether he can claim the same, but gets quickly distracted by high cheekbones and dark eyes watching him. “I can’t see you clearly,” he declares cheerfully.
Another huff. Peem is getting the distinct feeling he might be getting mocked. Not that he cares. He deserves this one night of not caring.
Then, “You need help getting home?”
Peem sighs. He doesn’t. He knows if he stays right here, his friends are bound to find him on their way out once they got done drinking.
“Mh,” he denies, still mostly busy with the way the world keeps spinning around him in lazy circles.
“You sure? I can call you a cab,” fuzzy guy says.
“Already did,” Peem refutes. Then frowns. Brings up his phone to focus on the blurry screen, uncertain whether he actually did. Blanketing warmth against his shoulder jolts him a little from his hazy thoughts, his new friend leaning into his space to look at his phone.
“You didn’t,” his friend says.
“Hm,” Peem hums, still unconcerned, sprawling back against the bench and his new friend’s really rather warm shoulder. “My friends will only be a couple more hours. I can wait.”
They might be quite a bit closer than before, considering Peem can make out quite a bit more of his features like this. Pretty lips, he thinks vaguely.
Lips that are curled in an exasperated smile. A sigh, possibly irritated, possibly endeared. “Come on,” his new friend says. “There is no way I can just leave you here. Tan will kill me if something happens to you. I’m taking you home.”
Peem smiles. “Are you a cab.”
A huff. “I will be for you.”
Peem grins. His new friend is really nice. No wonder Tan is friends with him. He is also cheerfully ignoring the way he is leaning most of his weight into the guy’s side at this point as they near a line of cars parked close to the bar. Or, at least Peem thinks it’s close by. He might not have the best spatial awareness at the moment.
Turns out, his friend’s car is rather comfortable as well. Even despite Peem bumping his head against the door frame. Or rather, against his new friend’s hand that had been conveniently between his head and the doorframe.
It’s a fancy car. He lets his fingers pet at the leather of his seat, jolting a little when the other door closes after his new friend has settled into the driver’s seat.
“So, where am I going?”
Peem frowns at him. How would he know?
Another sigh. “Where do you live?”
Oh, that makes more sense. Peem rattles off his address cheerfully, leaning back in his seat, rather comfortable at the moment, smiling happily at his new friend.
Who huffs, this time in obvious exasperation. “Honestly,” he mumbles as he starts the car. “How does Tan even let you out of his sight? It’s a wonder no one has decided to take you home and simply keep you, yet.”
Peem frowns over at him in vague confusion. “You’re taking me home.”
A sigh. “Yes, I am. But I meant-,” he breaks off, shakes his head, eyes on the road as he pulls out of the parking lot, lips quirked in a smile.
Peem blinks.
“You like weddings?” he asks his newest friend, the topic not at all having wavered from his mind.
There is a pause. “Weddings?” He sounds somewhat incredulous.
“Mhm,” Peem hums.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been out drinking to forget your upcoming nuptials or something,” his friend sounds rather judgmental, though his eyes remain on the road.
“Pfft,” Peem waves him off. “No, friend. A friend’s wedding. My friend.” He frowns, uncertain what he had been saying.
A soft laugh from beside him. “Do you get drunk like this often?”
Peem feels like he is being judged. “Not anymore,” he protests. Because going out for drinks every couple of weeks really has nothing on his uni days. “Just ahead of weddings where my almost-ex will be.”
A laugh. “How can someone be an ‘almost’-ex?”
“Four dates and two kisses and him being a complete asshole when I broke it off.”
“Ah,” his new friend seems rather taken aback, possibly at Peem’s vehemence. “Alright, I’ll give you almost-ex.”
Peem hums, feeling vindicated. See, even near-strangers agree that Kluen doesn’t count. Not that his new friend counts as a stranger. Clearly. Since he’s Tan’s friend and also taking Peem home. See? Clearly not a stranger.
“My friend said I should take a date,” he declares, mind still caught on that particular discussion, eyes on the dizzying lights passing by the car’s window.
“Ah. And you don’t want to?”
Peem shrugs vaguely, uncertain himself. “The one time I dated someone, he turned out to be an asshole. Not the best track record.”
“Hm,” his new friend hums.
Peem vaguely notes the car shutting off, “And where would I even find someone who’d go on a date with me on such short notice, hm?”
His only reply is huffed laughter and a shaking head, a brief burst of fresh air. Although, it takes Peem until the door on his side is opened from the outside to recognize the building they are parked in front of. Oh, that’s his apartment building.
“When is this wedding?” his new friend asks as he helps pull Peem from his seat.
“On the seventeenth,” he returns.
A pause.
“Next month?”
“Mhm,” Peem confirms.
He thinks he loses a little time as they make their way to his building and then Peem struggling up the stairs. Balance is hard.
“I could be your date,” his friend says. “I don’t know this ex of yours-”
“Almost-ex,” Peem protests.
“Almost-ex,” he agrees. “But I’m really not one to let anyone out-asshole me. So, you’d definitely be safe from that with me.” The grin is obvious in his friend’s voice, although Peem is currently kind of distracted by how comfortable the guy’s arms are. Being carried up the stairs is much more convenient than having to walk up to his apartment himself, he decides.
“I don’t need a protector,” Peem grumbles into a conveniently close by shoulder. “Just because my friends say I’m too nice to people doesn’t mean they’re wrong.” He frowns. That didn’t sound quite like what he was trying to say.
“Mh,” the guy hums, obviously amused. “Sounds like you kind of do.”
Peem pouts.
Oh, look. That door looks exactly like the one of his own apartment, what a coincidence.
He says as much.
Another soft laugh, as he is put back on his own feet. “Where are your keys?” Oh, it’s his apartment. That makes sense.
It’s good to be back home. Peem is tired.
“Here,” his new friend says after herding him towards his couch. He says it as though he expects Peem to be able to focus on anything at all, instead of just being busy watching his ceiling spin in lazy circles above his couch. A sigh, his phone being pressed back into his hand. “I put my contact in your phone. If you remember anything come morning, give me a call.”
He smiles at Peem, a sideways quirk to his lips, before he rises and moves towards the apartment door, closing it softly behind him.
Peem stares after him. Right until his eyes fall closed and he knows nothing anymore.