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The grip around Pathapi's lower arm is torturously familiar, as his ex boyfriend drags him out of the club in long, decisive strides. And yet he is unable to do anything but stumble after him.
The fresh air helps his mind to somewhat set straight again and he pulls his arm harshly from Tamtawan's grip.
"Why did you do that?" Tamtawan demands, with his hands on his hips, like he has any right. As if he has any right to lay a claim on him like that.
"Why do you care?
Phi watches as Tamtawan sets his jaw, quiet for a moment before he answers. "I'm your producer," he claims and Phi has to hold back not to laugh out loud at that ridiculous statement.
"No, you're not," he hisses, hoping to put every bit of venom, every bit of rage into the words. "I told you I wouldn't work with you. You're not my producer, no matter how much you claim you are."
Tamtawan's nostrils flare, all his focus completely on him. It would be so easy to slip back into old habits. Into teasing Tamtawan.
"So why do you care what I do?" Phi continues when Tamtawan still fails to answer.
Tamtawan shakes his head, jaw still tight. "Phi, are you serious? She clearly wanted to—"
"It's of no concern of yours who I fuck! I don't belong to you. I haven't for years. You don't want me. You made that very clear when you broke up with me. You have no right."
For the first time since meeting Tamtawan again, there's neither smugness nor indifference on his ex's face. Instead he almost looks hurt.
And that's not fair. Tamtawan has no right, not since breaking up with him. Breaking contact with him. Breaking his heart.
It's childish pettiness that turns him back to the entrance of the club. Not that he would actually go back to her, but it's not like he can stay here either. But before he can open it, Tam's hand has curled around his wrist, yanking him back again.
Phi yelps, undignified, as he collides with Tamtawan.
He can feel Tam's breath against his neck, hot and sudden for a second too long before he rips himself free.
At least that was the plan. Tamtawan's hand is still tight around his arm, keeping him close, unwilling to let go.
"Let go!"
"No."
"Tamtawan!" When Phi pulls back as to look into his face, there's determination on Tam's face. Despite having spent years apart, Phi knows what this face means. There is no way he's going to get through him.
"Don't go back," Tamtawan says and it's not pleading. It's not telling him. It's—well, he can't quite describe it either. Something in the middle, something new and Phi doesn't like that thought that he didn't know every nook and crannie of Tamtawan's.
(Then again, he did break up with Phi, so the point should be moot.)
"Maybe I want to."
He doesn't, but Tamtawan doesn't have to know that. There is a part of him that is thankful that he burst into their conversation and saved him from the spidery wandering hands.
Without giving him a warning Tamtawan pulls Phi closer again until their faces are mere inches from each other. Tamtawan's skin is the same warm colour it was when they broke up, only now Tamtawan seems to know better how to style and make it glow warm and soothing.
(Or maybe that is just Tamtawan and Phi forgot.)
Pathapi hates it.
"You don't."
"How would you know?"
"I know you," Tamtawan's hand is hot where it snakes around the side of his throat. His thumb gently caressing the underside of his jaw.
"Are you sure? It's been years since … People change." And isn't it pathetic that he still can't actually say it? As if faced with Tamtawan is what rips the old wound back open.
"I know you," Tamtawan claims and Phi hates him for it. Hates him how certain his voice sounds.
"You don't!"
"I do!"
And it's this, that immature back and forth that tears the small thread in two holding Phi back. It's not thought through. It never really is when Pathapi acts on instinct. So he grabs Tamtawan's face with his hands and pulls him into a kiss.
It's more teeth and anger than anything else. He wants to bite down and tug and taste blood. Though reality is that despite everything, Phi can't hurt him.
Not like that.
He feels like a feral cat with trimmed claws.
Tamtawan's breath brushes against his lips when their kiss breaks, familiar and comforting, flooding his whole body with warmth. Phi doesn't dare open his eyes, afraid what he will find there when he does.
Afraid to utter a single sound to break whatever this is.
"Phi."
Tamtawan apparently does not feel that way.
"What?"
"Open your eyes."
"No. You don't get to tell me anything."
Tamtawan sighs. "I'm your producer." There's a smile in his voice. Pathapi can tell.
"I fail to remember where I accepted that."
He wishes Tamtawan would simply leave and let him stew in his bad decisions on his own. He doesn't want to see his smug face or the raised eyebrow or the quirk of his lips. No, Phi wants to get drunk tonight and forget everything that happened.
(Most of all he wants to forget the taste of Tamtawan's lips.)
The worst thing about arguing with an ex is how intimately they know one. Tamtawan's fingers dig into his side, tickling him, which leaves Phi no other choice but to open his eyes and glare at Tamtawan, who's smiling innocently at him.
But there's more.
His lips are pink and shiny and his eyes are darker and yearning and it's overwhelming.
"Tam—"
When Tamtawan moves closer, there's enough time for Phi to avoid his lips. To push him back if he really doesn't want him. But that's the tragedy about the situation. There's never been a day he didn't crave him, even when Tamtawan broke up with him. Even with what he put him through.
Faced with him, Phi's weak.
He might regret this.
Scratch that, he'll definitely regret it.
Kissing Tamtawan properly feels like coming home. Like discovering a part of him that he thought was gone for good.
It's easy to get lost in the warmth and familiarity of the touch. Of hands so careful to cradle him, of a mouth knowing him intimately and still wanting him.
And Pathapi feels starved.
Famished.
Like a drop of water in a sizzling desert.
Tamtawan gasps against his lips when Phi drags him close by the shoulders, tripping along until Phi's back hits the wall.
When he opens his eyes again he realises they've moved away from the entrance and are now situated in a darker, more private nook.
He can't quite make out Tamtawan's eyes anymore hidden in the shadows. But his voice is breaking, leaking emotions Phi has been wanting to hear for years when Tamtawan says, "Pathapi," quiet but firm and wanting.
It's enough to undo him.
Claiming Tamtawan's lips again is easy, it's a dance only the two of them know the steps of and despite that, or maybe because of that, it makes his head spin.
Tamtawan's hand grips his hip for a moment before sneaking under his shirt. It's familiar and yet new at the same time. There are new calluses pressing against his skin. It's another cruel reminder of their separation.
After years trying to deal with Tamtawan breaking up with him, he didn't think it would hurt anew.
He should've known better.
He pulls back.
"Tawan."
Tawan blinks at him for a moment. It's as if they're both stuck in this situation, in a different time. When everything was easy and nothing complicated. When all they had and needed was their love for one another.
Tawan swallows.
"Phi, I—"
"Khun?"
They break apart. Pathapi smoothes his shirt and jacket down, smiling cordially at the valet, who's staring at them, an unlit cigarette in his hand.
He clears his throat. "Your car, it's been parked in zone 2. Would you like me to get it?"
"No, thank you," Phi says.
The valet nods, taking it as the dismissal it is, and returns hurriedly to the club.
Tawan drags his thumb over his lower lip, his gaze caught on something Phi can't see.
The silence between them stretches on, finally becoming uncomfortable.
Phi barely suppresses a tremble when he asks, "What did you want to say?"
Tawan turns, closed off once more. It's enough for Phi wanting to shake him until he spills whatever he was about to say.
"You need to be careful about what you do," he starts, lips still shiny with Phi's saliva, lower lip kiss bruised where Pathapi dug his teeth into. "Your reputation can't afford another scandal."
Like waves crushing over him, taking away the last few minutes, Pathapi is back to where he was before. This didn't mean anything. This was just—he doesn't even know what it was.
A lapse in judgement, sure.
A terrible mistake.
The bitterness bubbles back to the surface, angry and all consuming.
"As you're not my producer, I fail to understand how it concerns you what I do or don't do."
Tamtawan's jaw tightens. "Phi, please. I still believe we can work together."
Phi's lips quirk in a joyless smile. "After everything you've done. After treating me like shit? Yeah, I'd rather not."
When he turns, there are no footsteps following him.
He finds his car relatively easy and only when he's back inside and has brought a few kilometres between himself and the club (himself and Tamtawan) does he dare to properly breathe again.
He's a fucking idiot.