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Lovers or enemies.
Pete sighed into his beer, the liquid rippling into multiple circles. He repeated the motion a couple more times. His eyes glued to the beer.
There was something wrong with him. Besides the fact that there was a demon living inside of him and now was no longer sealed for his protection.
Oh well it was now… kinda.
He had many questions. Questions about him being born deaf. His parents going through with such a ritual to simply “fix” his hearing impairment. Why did they decide that was the way to go?
Could he really keep that demon deep inside him—keep control over him and that everything would just be okay?
So many things.
But well that wasn’t why he was here at the bar all alone. No, he was here because he couldn’t believe something about himself.
Niran had bound their souls together. In order to protect him. It was something he didn’t expect a man he had only known for maybe a month or two to do. But it wasn’t even that that shocked him.
It was when Niran told him that the soul binding wasn’t only for couples. That enemies could do it too. The way he reacted when Pete even suggested the idea that he could fall in love with him.
That… bothered him.
Too much.
He played it off then. Laughed.
But there was a tightness in his chest. It hurt. And he wasn’t sure why. Was the idea of being with him so terrible? Niran might not like men—it’s what Pete was trying to tell himself.
He glanced down at his wrist, imagining the golden string that now binded him to Niran until they died. It only appeared in certain moments. Whenever Niran got close, or if Pete thought about him… or maybe even wanted him.
The string knew. It seemed to know everything in regards to Niran.
Pete huffed.
Was his feelings just from the golden string? Or did it only awaken things? He didn’t know nor did he honestly really care. Nothing was going to happen after how vehemently Niran rejected the thought of them being together romantically.
“Are you going to drink or just continue to blow into your beer?” A voice cut in, taking Pete out of his train of thoughts.
He glanced over to see a man join him at the bar. The dim light confused him for a moment. Any man briefly looked like Niran, a side effect from the binding, so Pete wasn’t shocked to see that the man looked like him. But even as Pete rubbed his eyes, Niran was still staring back at him.
Huh. Maybe it really was Niran.
Pete didn’t know if he felt happy or embarrassed to see Niran. He glanced at his wrist before gazing back at his beer. “I’ll drink.” He finally answered, taking a slow sip of his beer.
Niran (?) hummed. He waved down the bartender with a simple raise of his hand. “I’ll have what he’s having.”
A second later the bartender placed the beer in front of Niran before walking away. Pete spared a glance at Niran, taking in his outfit. Now he couldn’t exactly comment on Niran’s style because it wasn’t like Pete himself was some fashionista.
But he didn’t think Niran had any outfit that looked this nice. A pair of black pants and matching black button up. Pete felt himself blush when he saw Niran’s eyes flicker over to him. A small smirk pulling on the other’s lips.
Shit. He got caught.
It was silent for a moment. The tv playing the news, a news caster talking about new developments dealing with the protestors. Pete’s thoughts briefly flickered to Ploy.
He hated that his sister’s life was essentially gone. Yes he knew that the ritual would save her (and everyone else) but that didn’t mean he wasn’t horribly sick each time he thought about what happened to her.
“Do you always come here?” Niran suddenly cut in.
Pete glanced away from the tv and let out a humorless laugh. “Are you insinuating I’m an alcoholic as well as a gambling addict?”
Niran’s eyes widened as he sat up straight, lips parting in shock. “Wha—? No, are you crazy?” He laughed. “What made you even think that?”
“Hm,” Pete shrugged. He knew that was out of line. Niran would never stoop that low. But he was feeling a little bitter right now. He finished his beer and quickly ordered another one. “Nothing really.”
It was quiet again.
Another beer was placed in front of Pete. He quickly began drinking it, wanting to use it as an excuse to not have to continue talking. It was childish but he still felt hurt over the idea that Niran didn’t want to date him.
“… how did you become a gambling addict?” Niran suddenly spoke, causing Pete to pause.
Pete placed the glass on the table. His eyes felt as if they were burning. It wasn’t like he was still particularly struggling with gambling anymore. He hadn’t gone in awhile now. The memories were just beginning to come back.
How alone he felt… the need to make everything feel dull.
To chase a high even if it was temporary.
“It was fun. You can get a lot of money quickly.” He decided that was a good enough answer. Not the full truth but hopefully enough. His voice had wavered a little. He felt a little flushed now, already on his third beer.
He glanced over to his right where Niran was sitting. His eyes widening slightly when he saw the other staring at him. It felt… strange to be stared at like this. Though the gaze Niran gave him didn’t make him feel the usual butterflies.
“Are you okay?” Niran asked.
Pete let out a laugh. Small, brief, and almost hard to hear. His eyes felt a little watery. Vision blurry. He turned his body to fully face Niran. Maybe he was more tipsy than he originally thought. Or maybe he wanted to use drinking as an excuse.
He leaned in, arms reaching out to rest on Niran’s shoulders. Niran’s body flinched. The other man stared at him in shock—like a deer in headlights. Pete couldn’t help but giggle, a wet giggle that did nothing to hide his sniffles.
His voice sounded rough as his lips parted, “can’t you feel it, Niran?” He asked. The connection with Niran felt so weak. He wondered if it was because the feelings between them weren’t equal.
While Pete’s soul was all in and devoted to Niran, Niran wished to keep him at a distance.
Pete pulled away before Niran could answer. “I’ll be right back.” He whispered. He slipped off the chair and rushed to the restroom. The door slammed shut behind him as he crashed to the sink. His breathing harsh and heavy.
The only sound in the restroom was of him. His fingers gripped at the countertop of the sink. Cold marble resting against his flesh. He was overreacting. He should be grateful. Grateful that Niran essentially gave up everything to keep him safe.
Right. Feelings be damned.
He finally glanced up in the mirror—catching the sight of himself. His eyes were wet and glossy. Red with his pupils wide. Cheeks flushed from drinking too much beer. He ran a hand through his bangs and looked away.
A mess.
Why did he care so much?
Pete waited a minute or so. Letting himself calm down. It wasn’t until he was sure he was decent enough that he left the restroom to rejoin Niran. He bit his bottom lip as he tried to think of what to say.
He had overreacted right in front of him. Was there any way he could play it off as a joke? Claim that he drank too much? It’s just playful flirting maybe? Ugh. Pete groaned to himself.
“Shit, shit…”
“Pete.”
“Aow,” Pete stopped in his tracks.
There, right in front of him, was Niran.
In totally different clothing. The usual shorts and t-shirt. Niran’s true style.
Niran’s gaze was harsh. And it was through his gaze alone that Pete realized this was the real Niran. Besides his outfit. Pete smiled awkwardly as he clasped his hands together. His gaze briefly flickering to his wrist to notice the golden string had reappeared.
It was attached to this Niran.
He really screwed up.
“Niran—”
“Let’s go.” Niran interrupted. He reached over and grabbed Pete’s hand, storming out of the building. Pete grunted at the force but followed him.
They hadn’t stopped even after walking for over three minutes. Pete wondered if Niran had really walked to the bar and not driven his car. But he could only focus on the pain on his right wrist due to Niran’s tight grip.
“Niran, it hurts.” Pete called out, attempting to tug himself free. He was ignored. “Niran.”
Niran only quickened his pace.
Pete felt himself grow angry. The beer pushed away any of his filters—all of the thoughts that might’ve told him to just let Niran take him home. It was wrong, definitely not the brightest thing to do, but Pete connected himself to the demon deep inside of him… and used that strength to tug himself free.
The sudden inhumane strength caused Niran to stumble. He quickly glanced back with wide eyes, different from the fake Niran in the bar… this time he resembled a dog. His gaze narrowed as he stood up straight.
“Are you crazy?” Niran finally spoke. Pete bristled at his tone. “Don’t use his powers so flippantly. It can corrupt you.”
“Uh,” Pete only nodded his head. “I won’t. You just didn’t want to let me go. What was that about anyway? I didn’t even pay for my beer.”
“I paid your tab.”
“Ah… thank you.”
Niran hummed. “You were talking to that guy pretty closely.”
“Oh…” Pete chuckled nervously, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “You saw…?”
“More than saw.”
“Ah, well… I thought he was you at first.”
Niran blinked, a weird emotion flickering in his eyes but he didn’t say anything. “Forget it. Let’s go home.” Niran turned to leave. He didn’t say a word but Pete could tell from his gaze alone that he was bothered.
Bothered by what? Pete couldn’t help but groan. Whenever there was something bothering Niran, it was as if he just couldn’t talk about it.
It didn’t matter if Pete pried or tried to get him to speak his feelings. Niran would close up. Not express himself at all.
But Pete could feel it. He could feel something was upsetting Niran. Though it was hard for him to name the emotion. His gaze hardened as a determined look pulled on his face.
“Niran.”
“What?”
“What’s wrong?”
Niran stopped. “Nothing. It’s late, let’s—”
“It’s not nothing!” Pete interrupted, his voice rising. They were lucky the sidewalk was basically empty. He stormed over to stand in front of Niran. Niran’s eyes quickly looked away. “Niran, I know the soul binding is just for protection but I can feel your emotions. Something’s wrong, tell me.”
“You feel my emotions?” Niran let out a laugh. His lips pulled into a humorless smile. “I feel yours too, Pete. I felt it so much that I had to find you,” his hand pressed against his chest, right near his heart. “I had to… I couldn’t ignore what you were feeling.”
Pete blinked. The declaration wasn’t anything he was expecting. Though he had almost forgotten it was a two way street. Whatever he was feeling from Niran… then Niran must’ve felt what Pete was feeling earlier.
“Then…” Pete whispered. “We could… both say what’s bothering us?”
Niran scoffed. “And what would that do?”
“Niran, I’m trying to help but it’s like you never want to say anything!” Pete began to yell, he could feel something clenching in his heart. The pain was unbearable. He stepped forward to where he was close to Niran. Feeling the heat radiating off him. “How can I help you—”
“Fine! You want to know?” Niran’s hands shot out and grasped Pete’s shirt, tugging him even closer. “I saw how you touched him. The way you looked at that stranger.”
Pete gasped at Niran’s sudden forcefulness. His hands shooting up to grasp Niran’s. “Wait—”
“You want to know how I feel? Angry. I felt angry. Why did you look at him like that? Why did you touch him like that?”
“Hah?”
Niran huffed and released his grip. He looked away, embarrassment etched all over his face. His hands rubbed against his face as he let out a frustrated sigh. “Forget it. Forget I even…” his voice trailed off when he felt arms resting on his shoulders.
He looked back and his body froze.
Pete was pressing into him. Resting his arms on Niran’s shoulders just like he did on the fake one at the bar. His eyes, those same eyes that Niran was beginning to fall for, stared up at him. Pete bit his lip before a shuddered sigh left him.
“You were jealous?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.
“…no.” Niran weakly rebutted.
“Mhm. If you weren’t then I guess I should…” Pete’s voice trailed off. He slowly began to move his arms away.
Niran moved before his brain even understood what he was going to do. His hands gripped Pete’s waist, keeping his body flushed against his. The touch made his brain short circuit. Pete’s waist was smaller than Niran could comprehend.
A surprised gasp left Pete. His eyes widened, so wide that Niran had to fight the urge to not mutter out the word ‘cute.’
Pete felt nervous. He hadn’t really foreseen what was going to happen when he moved so close to Niran. Certainly wasn’t expecting Niran to grasp his waist like he’s done it before. Like it was made just for him.
He hated that it made his stomach tingle.
The two stared at each other for a moment. Both unable to really say anything else.
“Uh,” Pete whispered. “Did you… really feel my…?”
“Yes. I can feel everything.”
“Then you didn’t feel that I was… hurt from what you said this morning?”
Niran’s breathing stuttered. “You…? Pete, I’m sorry. I didn’t—I don’t know why… I’m not sure what I’m feeling towards you. You’re different. I didn’t hesitate to do the ritual but I still don’t know why I did it. I don’t know if what I feel is… ‘that’ so I just…”
Pete shrugged. He thought he would’ve been more angry at the fact Niran seemed so confused but he couldn’t blame him. He felt confused as well. In all honesty, being with Niran felt like it was pre-destined. Like it was meant to happen.
Past lives? Pete wasn’t sure.
“It’s okay.” Pete muttered. “We can… figure it out.”
“Okay…”
“But you should work on your jealousy.”
Niran rolled his eyes, “is it a crime that I don’t want to see you with another guy?”
Pete chuckled, a lazy smirk on his lips. He teasingly pulled at Niran’s cheek—enjoying the glare the other sent him. “Of course! I’m not your boyfriend… you don’t have any owner-mmph!”
Lips crashed into his.
The kiss was hungry. Niran’s hands tighten their grip on Pete as he roughly pulls him against his body. Their bodies flushed together naturally. Pete’s hands grip at Niran’s chest. Trying desperately to ground himself as Niran devoured him.
He was often told the demon inside him was waiting for the day to devour him… but it seemed Niran would be the one to do so first.
Teeth clinked against each other. Niran nipped and pulled at Pete’s bottom lip, earning a wet gasp from him. It wasn’t Pete’s first kiss. He wasn’t untouched or anything but this type of kiss was nothing like his last ones.
Niran was pulling moves he didn’t think were popular. He swallowed each and every one of Pete’s mewls. Leaving no space for Pete to pull away to catch his breath.
When Niran started to suck on his tongue, Pete felt his legs twitch. It was becoming too much. He weakly punched Niran's chest. Even though he wanted to pull away he still continued kissing him.
Hands roamed down Pete’s body. Cool hands touched Pete’s bare skin that earned a loud gasp that was muffled by Niran.
Pete finally managed to free himself after a minute passed. His breathing heavy as he kept a tight grip on Niran’s t-shirt. He couldn’t even speak. Throat dry from his constant moaning.
His cheeks flushed when he finally took in Niran’s gaze. The hungry look he gave him sent a shiver down Pete’s spine.
“I’m not your boyfriend… but your soul belongs to me. No one will ever live up to our connection.”
“E…eh…?”
Shit… Niran was more possessive than Pete thought.
Earlier…
“I’ll pay for his tab.” Niran said, handing over some baht to the bartender. He was already pissed off. Anger bubbling within him. Pete had walked off to the restroom so Niran took that as his opportunity to see the dude Pete was conversing with.
The dude, an ugly one at that, raised an eyebrow. “Who are you?”
Niran felt his eyebrow twitch.
He had come to this bar looking for Pete. His bond with Pete had allowed him to feel the growing negative energy within the other. He originally planned to ignore it but he couldn’t any longer. So he allowed his heart… no, soul, guide him to his other half.
Imagine his shock when he saw said other half wrapping his arms around another man.
Niran just wanted to ignore the guy and take Pete home. He didn’t want to concern himself with strangers who ultimately didn’t matter. But now that the bastard spoke to him…
His gaze was sharp as he turned over to look at the man. He laughed at the sight of him.
“Who am I?” Niran leaned in close. “His boyfriend, you asshole.” He grabbed Pete’s beer that he hadn’t finished and poured it all over the man’s lap.
“You?! What the hell?!” The man cried, quickly reaching for some napkins.
Niran rolled his eyes. He wanted to say more but noticed Pete had exited the restroom. A wave of relief washed over him at the sight of him. He ignored the man’s yelling and walked over to Pete.
If he wasn’t a good man—he would’ve done something worse.
Way worse.