Catch me (when I fall)

SarawaTine Chronicles Part: 2

2.

Full-fledged agreement on both their parts is something Tine isn't used to but, on rare occasions, it does happen. For instance, they both settle into a fixed schedule for Fridays. It involves a movie, a dinner and a run-through of any Scrubb song- nothing more, nothing less. It's a sort of sappy domesticity- the type that belongs to old married couples as Ohm would have put it. 

But, funny enough, Tine loves it. Loves that he has a safe zone to come back to at the tail-end of a wearisome week and loves preparing for it at the start of every fresh week. Wat's butter-soft smiles and sighs tell Tine that he loves it too, if not more. 'This week has been particularly grueling for him,' Tine thinks ,'what with the extra band practices and group assignments..'

Unsurprisingly, he receives a message from Sarawat, typos and all, minutes before the last bell rings and it says exactly what he thought it would- that endearing Saraleo- has rushed back home to prepare dinner and he's very obviously forgotten the vital point in the process. Tine heaves out a resigned sigh, bids his exasperated friends a farewell and makes his way to their favourite cafe. 

The smell of green curry welcomes him as soon as the lift doors slide open and nothing can stop his appreciative smile from blooming. He swings open the front door with one hand, the other carrying the plastic bag with his precious Blue Hawai and someone's iced coffee. It shouldn't be possible but the aroma increases tenfold. 

There's a slight crinkle when he swings the bag onto their dining-table-kitchen-island-thingy and this, he hopes, alerts Wat of his presence. Tine whirls around to face the stove where he's still poised over the simmering curry to ask his boyfriend why he hasn't got the exhaust on. Unexpectedly, the words die on the tip of his tongue because- well-

Sarawat has a shirt on and it's definitely not his. Why? Because it's Tine's and it so happens to be one of his favourites. Once again, Tine is dumbstruck and he stands there, motionless. Wat is still unaware, his hawk-like gaze trained on the pot but his body angles slightly towards Tine. Then he's saying something but, for the life of him, Tine can't catch a single word. 

"Wha-" he asks while starting forwards blindly and he doesn't get to finish the words before his feet slide out from under him. The floor is traitorously wet and the friction-less momentum causes him to slide on him butt all the way to the foot of the fridge. When he looks up, dazed and completely embarrassed, Wat is looking back at him. His mouth is parted and the ladle in his hand is paused mid-way, entirely out of the pot. Tine quickly schools his expression into frown and let's himself snap out,"why didn't you warn me, you-you!"

 Wat is busy sputtering out that he did and that it Tine's fault for not listening when Tine picks himself up. Or tries to anyway because he rises up on his palms the laws of gravity decide to mess with him again. He goes down with a mortifying thwack. It is at this point that his boyfriend starts guffawing out loud like the Saraleo he is, making no point to help him. Even when he struggles to find his footing while biting out certain choice curses, Sarawat is just clutching at his sides and giggling. 

Much later, they have a slightly burnt curry and lukewarm drinks on that Friday because, of course, Wat fusses over him despite Tine's repeated insistence to pay attention to the stove.