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"What was that noise?!"

Upon hearing the question, the two eight year old boys froze, looking at each other with wide opened eyes. They had been bickering for over fifteen minutes about some game, pushing and pinching each other when one of them knocked over an expensive vase. Both boys knew the importance of said vase which was the reason why they were panicking so much. However, taken over by fear, none of them were able to come up with an excuse for what had happened. 

"What!" one of the boys' mothers exclaimed in disbelief at the sight of what was left of the vase. "Who broke it?" she asked in a calm tone. "Pran!" she exclaimed suddenly and the poor boy jumped in surprise. Why was she screaming his name so suddenly? Pran turned his eyes to the other boy to see him with his finger still pointed in Pran's direction.

The little fucker.

Pran felt anger fill his small body upon realising that he had been wrongly accused. However, the anger didn't last very long, quickly being replaced with fear as his mother started scolding him for breaking her favourite most expensive vase. 

Pran's family wasn't wealthy, but they weren't poor either. They were slightly more comfortable than some people. They didn't need to worry about money yet they weren't considered rich. Pran's parents didn't have many expensive items in their house and one of them was that vase. 

It had been one of the first expensive gifts Pran's father had made to his wife over fifteen years ago and that was why it held so much importance to Dissaya. But there she was now, looking down at the broken porcelain with a heavy heart. 

The other boy -Pat- watched as Pran was scolded, holding back his tears as he waited for his mother to calm down. Pat was starting to regret accusing Pran of breaking the vase when clearly it was him. He had panicked when he saw Dissaya's anger reflecting in her eyes as she asked who had done it. Before he knew it, he was pointing his finger at her innocent son. 

Pat wasn't supposed to be here in the first place. His little sister had broken her arm while playing and she was rushed to the hospital. However, Pat's parents knew it would take some time before they could return home and didn't want to leave Pat alone in the house. They also knew that Pat would get bored if he was to go with them so they took every bit of courage they had in their bodies and asked for a favour to the people they hated the most. 

Their neighbours.

Pat remembered clearly his mother saying to Dissaya that Pat was a sweet boy and that she promised he wouldn't cause any problems. Pat knew it took a lot for his mother to ask Pran's parents to look after him and he didn't want to disappoint her. 

Pran was soon sent to his bedroom while Pat was to play alone in the living room. As Pran walked back, Pat noticed the way his little shoulders trembled. He had finally let go of the tears. Pat had to admit he was impressed. One thing was for sure, he would have never been able to hold his tears from spilling while being scolded like Pran just was. Pat hated being yelled at, he liked being praised, he liked making others proud of him. 

It took another two hours before a knock on the front door was heard. Dissaya grumbled under her breath as she walked to the front door and opened it to reveal Pat's father. The two adults glared fiercely at each other but remained polite as Dissaya called Pat. The boy went back home and everything was fine. 

Except it wasn't.

Pat couldn't stop thinking about the way he had accused Pran for something he hadn't done. He felt extremely guilty. So, when he was sure his parents had gone to bed, Pat climbed out his window and jumped onto his neighbour's balcony which he knew for a fact led to Pran's bedroom. 

Quietly, Pat slid the window open and pushed the curtains aside to get inside the room. There, he found Pran tugging his covers aside to get in bed. But before he could do that, Pat grabbed his shoulder and Pran jumped, turning around quickly as a yell was threatening to come out. Pat slapped his hand over Pran's mouth to keep him quiet and shushed him.

"Do you want your mom to know I'm here?!" Pat whisper-shouted with his finger still in front of his mouth. Pran tried to reply but his answer was muffled. "Sorry." Pat said as he took his hand off. 

"You scared me!" Pran exclaimed quietly, hitting Pat's arm. "What are you doing here anyway? You got me in trouble for something I didn't even do. Why did you do that? My mom would have been less angry if she knew it's you who broke it." he complained. "Now, I'm grounded for a week."

"I'm sorry!" Pat said, genuinely looking sorry which surprised Pran. "I panicked! Your mom is really scary when she's mad." he said and Pran nodded in agreement. Pran was about to speak when they heard Pat's mother call for Pat from inside his house. Pat gasped and without another word, he left. 




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It was with a heavy sigh that Pran walked out to take out the trash. He made his way to the front of the house and put the trash away, noticing Pat come out as well to do the same as if on purpose. Pat held a wide smirk as he saw Pran there too and Pran wanted to slap that smirk away. 

"Does it still hurt?" Pat asked as he scanned Pran's body from head to toe. 

"Shut up." Pran grumbled, too tired to deal with any of this and Pat noticed. 

"I was just teasing." he said, holding Pran back from leaving. "Seriously, how do you feel?"

"Exhausted." Pran replied instantly and cursed himself when he saw the satisfied smirk appear on his boyfriend's face. "I will smack you, Pat."

"Okay, okay, sorry." he chuckled, pulling Pran to his chest and holding him. They stayed like this for a while before it was time for the two of them to go back inside before it became suspicious. Pran walked back, yawning as he did so and missing the flower pot that was placed on the side. Pran tripped over it and the pot loudly broke into pieces. 

"Shit!" he exclaimed as he stared at the pot in panic. "Shit, shit, shit!" he cursed, knowing perfectly well that his mother was about to have a mental breakdown over the pretty flower pots she liked to brag about being broken.

"What was that?" Pat asked, making his way to his boyfriend after hearing the commotion. "Oh oh, someone's about to get his ass kicked." he teased, laughing as he looked at the pot as well.

"Pran?" they heard Dissaya call from inside the house. "What was that noise, honey?" she asked and before Pran could come up with anything, he watched his mother walk out of the house and see the broken pieces on the floor at Pran's feet. "Pran!" she exclaimed in disbelief. Pran immediately hung his head low, taking in the scolding quietly. Even after years, Pat was still scared of angry Dissaya. Pat could see how Pran was holding back his tears just like he always does and he felt bad for him.

"It was me." Pat spoke up, cutting Pran's mother mid-sentence as she and her son whipped their heads in his direction.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." he apologised. "I was messing with Pran to annoy him and didn't see the flower pot. I tripped over it. I'll make sure to buy another one for you to replace it." he said and Dissaya blinked back at him quietly. 

"Alright." she finally said. "Thank you for telling me." she reluctantly told him. "And stop bothering my son." she added before turning around and going back inside. 

"Why would you d-"

"You took the blame for the vase when we were eight." Pat said with a wide grin. "Now we're even, Mr Parakul." he said, pulling Pran closer by the back of his neck and kissing him the way he knew it would leave Pran speechless. "I'll leave you to pick up the pieces though, my love." he whispered, pecking his cheek with a smirk when he saw the dazed look on Pran's face. "Good night."

"....good night." Pran whispered even though Pat had already left, leaving Pran to quietly clean up the mess he had made with only one thing in his mind.

Pat.

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