HYSM

Twenty

Mew's first thoughts had been of swanky restaurants, chic bars, the delicious darkness of the back row of a romantic cinema screening. Typical date venues. But none of them had felt like Gulf. Gulf Kanawut wasn't a typical date...

The zoo, perhaps? He loved animals. Or a day trip to Pattaya for another beach visit together?

No. They were things Mew would love to do with his Nong one day, but not that day. Their first official date together - their first time really out as a pair in public - perhaps ending the night with a new status too, if Gulf said 'yes'.

So Mew had relaxed back into the rhythmical swaying of the garden hammock, closing his eyes as he sought more spiritual inspiration in the dappled afternoon sunlight.

What did his Gulf feel like?

Simple, straightforward, yet infinitely deep. Liking nothing fancy, but being the fanciest, most mesmeric thing Mew had ever laid eyes on. Natural. Strong. Yes - if Mew himself was the perpetually-moving ebb and flow of the sea and her tides, as the younger man had told him the day they departed Hua Hin - Gulf was an immovable, unshakable, exquisitely blossoming tree that survives an earthquake with the deepest roots. That enigmatic contrast within his soul that the elder man found so endlessly beguiling. Stubborn, blunt determination and delicate, soft beauty - tree leaves a source of oxygen itself to Mew.

And so it was that when the two men disembarked from the elder's motorcycle the following Saturday morning, it was beneath the 'Welcome' sign of Suan Rot Fai, an expansive park of intertwining cycle paths, luscious green lawns, elegant nesting herons and the sweet, pungent aromas of scenting herbs on the breeze.

An adventure commenced:

Rented red bicycles, racing one another with youthful, carefree, dizzying whoops all the way down to the edge of a tranquil, rush-lined lake - croaking bullfrogs and chirruping crickets obscured within the tall grasses. Then an exchange of wheels for paddles to take a rowing boat out together - Gulf laughing until tears streamed down his cheeks at Mew's squeals as he mischievously rocked the rickety vessel from side to side. A sheepish wai of apology when they inevitably lost an oar overboard - Mew pulling out his wallet authoritatively to pay for the damages.

Next, onwards to visit the butterfly house - rising majestically as a catherdral of glass, wings of every colour imaginable fluttering like glimmering jewels that drizzled from a rainbow, resting on wooden stands of sliced fruit to unfurl tubular proboscises and sip that sweetest nectar of fructose. Mew and Gulf captured one another posing with butterflies on their head, their shoulders, their fingertips - the younger man pouting, flame-cheeked, at the other's chuckles upon noticing him deep in conversation with a 'Nong' Malay Lacewing resident.

Bellies beginning to rumble and grumble - signalling time to leave Rot Fai - Mew collected the motorcycle from the parking shack at the gates to speed them onwards, just a few minutes in a Northerly direction to Queen Sirikit Park. A quieter, more picturesque grandeur - the two unloaded the elder man's carefully prepared picnic basket to lounge for sweet passing hours on the neatly trimmed, shaded lawns of one of a maze of enchanting botanical gardens and arboretums. They fed each other strawberries. Kissed and teased and tickled and rolled alternately on top of one another, sniffing in essence and scent, celebrating the feeling of being together, free and in love.

Then as shadows began to slant longer and the evening chorus of birds to trill - swooping from branches to snatch darting insects mid-flight from the cooling air, nature's food chain in demonstrative action - Mew took Gulf briskly by the hand, to say:

"Come on baby, one more stop - and we've got to be quick or we'll miss it"

Over, then, to the contrasting bustle and buzz of Santichaiprakan Park of an evening. For its famed, glorious view of the nightly sunset, Bangkok locals and tourists side by side harmoniously in the grounds of ancient structures of the old city fortifications. Overlooking the banks of the Chaophraya river and her tumultuous power, the setting was a sensory stun to the arriving Mew and Gulf. Lively street artists and acts entertaining, pop up stalls vending every imaginable edible treat and delight, merchants wandering with wristfuls of shiny helium balloons, whirring light-up fidget spinners, and bubble machines that sent translucent, spherical liquid in ascending cascades, to burst into nothingness mid-journey up into the sky, as the Sun yawned and stretched her way behind the sleepy horizon.

Mew stopped to buy a single red rose from a teenager selling from the kerb - presented it to Gulf with an exaggerated bow, provoking cheers from a passing group of Swedish tourists, claps and winks abound.

The two walked, grinning, hand in hand, then, to find a quieter, more secluded spot, reclining to watch the last reaching, kaleidoscopic rays of the day slowly refract, retract, dwindle and fade, until the velveteen blanket of darkness and night enshrouded them at last...

"Now we've been through sunrise and sunset together", mused the younger man as they bid last poignant goodbyes to a day that would always be remembered.

Then after moments of contemplative silence...

"The poetry of Earth is never dead", Mew recited quietly, head leaning to rest on Gulf's shoulder.

"Hoy! Are you a poet now Phi? Your talents are never ending" - the younger's tone teased, but he lifted his hand to ruffle the other's hair affectionately as he spoke.

"Not my words. A poem I had to learn in my English Language class in first year. It's true though, right?"

It was, Gulf nodded to himself. Then, in a smaller, more hesitant voice...

"How did you know? How did you know to bring me to these places?"

"Because when I close my eyes, this is what you look like to me: My 'poetry of Earth'. I see how you're at home in nature. You breathe deeper, you're...more open, at peace"

"Fuck, you know my heart like no one has ever known it" - Gulf

"Baby, I love you like no one else could ever love you too" - Mew

Then:

"I know it" - and Gulf grasped the elder man's chin to tilt his face upwards to receive his gentle, lip-trembling kiss.

He did feel open and peaceful. He did feel loved. Cherished and cared for in the most tender way that he hadn't even known he needed. Mew's love made him weak at the knees...even from a seated position.

Hearts were swelling, bursting - can a heart really expand in physical size through the power of feeling? It's what they believed in that moment, as the nearby busking band's crooning rose to a crescendo and Gulf leant forwards, eyes closed, to breathe in the timeless, floral scent of the red rose in his hand.

And when his lids drifted open again, Mew's face was closer, everything else around suddenly freezing - motionless and muted silence - dark eyes alive with emotion as he whispered:

"Please say you'll be my boyfriend...I can't live another day without calling you my faen..."

Gulf's simple reply:

"I thought you'd never ask"