I Want You To Be My Last

Part 11 : Dare

"K-Kanawut?" P'Mew uttered Gulf's given name under his breath, gaze zeroing on the bracelet adorning Gulf's wrist and Gulf felt like running.

Much as he tried to pull his hand away, he couldn't, mentally panicking as he watched the way P'Mew struggled to do the same. Gulf could literally hear the wheels in P'Mew's head turning - he was obviously trying to pierce things together and was clearly having a hard time accepting it, judging with the way he was trying to put on a smile but only ended up looking constipated instead - and it would have been entirely hilarious if Gulf wasn't presently trying his best to hold it together as P'Mew was, lest he'd embarrass them both.

Gulf nodded again, barely resisting the urge to turn around when P'Mew whispered, " K ?", just loud enough for Gulf to hear as if he still wasn't sure this was the case despite finding the evidence of it dangling around Gulf's wrist.

Gulf tilted his head in affirmation and, realizing he was still shaking P'Mew's hand, pulled it away and bowed.

"Oh, right, everyone, I expect you all at dinner later, okay?" P'Arm was saying next, sounding and looking thrilled as he pulled at P'Mew's arm again and effectively breaking the awkward air hanging between Gulf and the other man. He took a step back without looking up, hoping that no one else in the room had noticed that brief but uncomfortable exchange between the two of them, vaguely hearing the others agreeing as P'Arm started walking away, taking P'Mew with him.

P'Best was immediately sauntering over to check on him once their producer was out of earshot.

"Hey, what just happened? Are you okay?"

Gulf wasn't, but he wasn't an idiot to admit that to him, or to anyone else for that matter.

He mustered a laugh and nodded at his manager, hoping he didn't look as terrified as he felt. He could feel his heart doing somersaults in his ribcage, and it was difficult to tell if it was still because of the adrenaline pumping through his system when he'd performed earlier or if it was because of something else.

"I'm fine, Phi," he said as he turned around and reached for his discarded jacket and put it on, fingers touching the bracelet now hidden from view.

"Just thirsty. Can I have some water please?"

Gulf had a feeling P'Best was aching to ask questions but the older man knew him well enough to tell that Gulf wasn't in the mood to answer. Not now and possibly not ever.

"I'll go get you a bottle. Wait here."

"Thanks, Phi."

-

They were expected back on stage right after P'Mew's performance, but while the others were busy going through the supposed questions the reporters would be asking them later, Gulf was here, standing on the side-stage once again and ogling P'Mew like an amateur stalker.

To be fair, it wasn't like he could help it. He was curious enough to know more, to see more, and watching P'Mew there on stage, dancing and singing like he owned it obviously wasn't helping. He knew this was the part where he should be telling himself to step back, to reassess the situation enough to be reminded how badly this would end if he wasn't careful, but it was hard.

He wanted to, but it was difficult to stay sensible when he kept on remembering S' - P'Mew's very sudden confession earlier knowing he was looking at it, at the other man in particular, on a different view now that he found out who S was, how he looked when he laughed, when he made that comment about Gulf's height, when he gave Gulf a once over the moment he realized who Gulf was in return.

It was difficult not to feel as though the universe was conspiring to fuck with them both by putting them in the same place at the same time, by allowing Gulf to recognize the other man and letting him hope he could get away without getting recognized in turn. But as it was, he'd given himself away the moment P'Mew caught sight of his gift around Gulf's wrist, and it was honestly a downward spiral from then on.