#ipytm q

“No one answer the phone! Only Teh answers the phone” Ma Sui shouted out from another room in the house above the ringing.

“Ma, I already said they would email or call my cell—“ Teh hollered back, picking up the phone from its base and putting it to his ear “Hello?”

It was the florist—let me correct that; it was one of the florists. Clutching the phone between his shoulder and his ear Teh took down his wedding planner from a dark wooden shelf that sat near the phone. The printed silk cover adorned with a liana and hibiscus border stared up at him, he didn’t pause to absent-mindedly stroke one of the names printed on the fabric as he often did. Listening to the florist's complaints he frowned, “No, we need clivia for the rehearsal dinner—yes—there will be people to help…Yes, it is on an island further off of Phuket. Yep, exactly…Great—and when are the lilies and crane flowers coming in for the brunch on Sunday?”

He made notes; messy scribbles on the page marking down expected arrival times next to the vendor’s name in the wedding planner. One of the people sitting at the table in the room got up from his chair, Teh could just glimpse them out of the corner of his eye: he paid them no heed, focusing on the voice at the other end of the line. The warmth of another form pressed against him for a moment, he felt a hand brush his waist and an ardent kiss pressed to his cheek.

“I love you,” Oh-aew hummed to his childhood best friend, the grin on his comely mouth could be heard in his words.

He lithely floated through the house as though he were an enchanting sprite, touching the panoply that nestled in its place on shelves and countertops, undoubtedly in Teh’s mind increasing the object’s value to have been touched by Oh-aew’s divine fingers. The willowy groom-to-be looked and behaved as though this were already his home, in spite of the fact that he had never lived here and never would. But old habits were difficult to curb, and Oh-aew had been part of and treated as one of the family in this house long before he was set to legally become a member of said family. Years of playdates and sleepovers with Teh through their childhood and teen years had blossomed into Oh-aew loitering in their manse during school holidays to catch a glimpse of Teh’s older, more attractive brother.

Hoon sat at their sturdy wooden table that shined from where Teh had waxed it the week before at Ma Sui’s instruction; he was reading the paper that his mother had left there, its pages crinkled from where it had gotten damp this morning before being brought inside. Teacups were scattered on the table from where the family had sat around having tea: Hoon had just gotten off from work and Oh-aew was waiting for him at the Saetan house to greet him before Aew was due in at work. Hoon’s lightly gelled obsidian-coloured hair was perfectly styled as always, his facial hair trim and precise (“Just as I like it,” Oh-aew would declare) as he fondly glanced up from the paper at his fiancé’s voice.

With a nearly imperceptible motion, Teh shifted his left shoulder further towards the side table and shelves in front of him as he felt Oh-aew preparing to leave.

“You’re so lucky, my darling; I’ve got no siblings to help with all this dreaded planning,” Aew pouted to his fiancé.

“What do you mean? You’ve got Teh and Q wrapped around your fingers and planning this whole weekend! Teh’s my brother and I practically have to ask you if I can borrow him,” the older man’s chastisements were coquettish and melodic.

“Rightly so! He’s been my best friend for nearly fifteen years, but I have to hand him over to you as your best man simply because the two of you share half of your DNA— And that damn Q, some best man he is; three days before my wedding and he still hasn’t flown in from Bangkok.” Aew huffed in return. Teh heard them kiss.

“Okay, I’m off—I’ll call you about dinner tonight. Oh! And, Teh, don’t forget about the tent tomorrow at the resort—Hoon and I are working, but Mom is there and I’ll try to be home as early as possible.”

Teh nodded in acknowledgment and waved his best friend off, still jotting down floral arrangement notes from his phone call as he heard the other two exchange ‘I love yous’ and ‘goodbyes’. After hanging up the phone he closed the wedding planner, this time hesitating a little longer to gaze at the names printed on its cover: Hoon & Oh-Aew. It felt surreal. Looking back on the last fifteen years: late childhood, adolescence, the Great Conundrum that was the better part of a half-decade journey realizing that he was A) madly in love with his best friend, and B) not as straight as he’d originally surmised. Retrospectively, the matter was almost farcical. He knew something was a bit up as he’d enviously watched Oh-aew flirt with his school crush (admittedly, a short-lived one), Bas; whom Teh had even gone so far as to spur his friend towards. And then he had briefly basked in the glory of Aew’s hanging around all the time when they were on uni breaks; not realizing at first that Teh was only partly the draw—the main attraction at his house at that time (and, realistically all times since) being Teh’s older brother, Hoon. How silly; to think you’re the main event only to discover you are the side-show.

But even before that, the dreams came. In them men he didn’t know would be gazing at his lips, and in his all-knowing dream state he understood that they wanted to kiss him, ’You can kiss me if you’d like,’ he would tell them. Afterward, upon waking he would come up with the most ludicrous reasonings as to why he would offer himself to be kissed by another man. Another time he dreamt that he had been in a room of beautiful people and making eyes at this one guy whom Teh would try and follow to a secluded place…but his dream was disorganized and he could never find the guy again. He also did have dreams about girls, which, if anything only added fuel to his burning pyre of confusion. He didn’t know anyone who has openly bisexual at the time, and media portrayals frequently avoided the usage of the term. The final nail in the coffin was dreaming that he was slow dancing with Oh-aew, but a strange slow dance: more like foreplay. As they cascaded around to the music they pressed their bodies up close to one another, creating heat and friction, they kissed and dream Teh grasped at dream Oh-aew’s chest—but they still danced to the music, upright and their feet never stalling: an agreement from some higher dream god that sex could not occur until the never-ending song was finished—hurrah! the song was complete and now things were really picking up— His alarm clock had gone off…among other things, and Teh had plucked himself up from his bed with a ”Well…that was weird,”, but silently hoping that someday he got to the end of that, particular, dream.

He remembered it lucidly; Oh-aew had come to him in the strictest confidence: ”I’m in love with Hoon,” Teh…had an out of body experience that day. Now, he had never done hard drugs, but if this was anything akin to what heroin was like then Teh swore to never touch the stuff. He remembered not a single action of his own that day, his mind and soul off, floating about morosely in the firmament. ”I hadn’t really thought about it much before, you know…but then when we were going out to celebrate going off to university—and he was out in the restaurant when Bas and I dropped by to pick you up…it’s like I saw him with fresh eyes. Suddenly he was right there.”

For a couple of years…Oh-aew did have to endure Hoon being ’suddenly right there’ with a girlfriend; a strange time for all as Oh-aew pined for Hoon, and Teh for Oh-aew. The younger brother assured himself that his friend would eventually outgrow his infatuation with the older sibling. He watched Reply 1997 over and over again; Seo In-Guk had a happy ending here—it didn’t have to be the “Please Don’t…” story for Teh, either.

Oh-aew and Hoon hadn’t started dating until after Aew had finished university and begun working in advertising at the Phuket Tourism Department, and Teh would have to admit that despite being friends with one and related to the other he didn’t know the exact logistics of their getting together. His childhood friend, and secret love, video called him to say that he and Hoon had dinner three times that week!! And that Hoon had asked Oh-aew out to dinner already for the next week. If the floor in Teh’s dingy little apartment had all fallen out from beneath his feet he would have been less perplexed. He was also gripped with fear remembering the only person he had ever told about his feelings for Aew was Hoon. The call was short, but Teh hung on for as long as he possibly could to listen to Aew’s delighted ravings. ”What’s wrong? You look sick?” came his best friend’s voice. ”Yeah…I’m not feeling too well,” he shrugged, trying to brush off the fact that he was now anxiously sweating as his bowels and stomach did an antithetical jig.

It had been strange; seeing Hoon and Oh-aew holding hands…sharing long and fond gazes. A rollercoaster ride when he’d seen them first kiss. It was strange because it made him hurt, but it also made him so happy to see them so happy. He was home for a few days between theatre performances after the couple had been together for a few years. And in their childhood bedroom, Hoon confided to Teh that he wanted to propose to Oh-aew.

Not even a week later Oh-aew had video called Teh, frantic: ”Teh, I know it’s not cool of me to put you in this position but your brother has been acting really secretive this past week…and I just have to know if he said anything to you while you were home about proposing—“ Teh had fallen for the bait, or come to the duel unprepared—he was unsure which, but his face must have betrayed his older brother’s confidence because he heard Oh-aew’s squeal ”—AHA; I knew it! Oh my god, you’re such a terrible actor! I love you so fucking much Teh; you’re the best friend and the worst little brother—I’m gonna get maRRied! Ahhhh—“ Aew blew Teh some kisses and hung up.

As Teh stood there with the wedding planner, he admitted that things had not exactly gone as he had ever fantasized. No, Aew had not had an epiphany and suddenly realized he loved the wrong brother. No, he wasn’t exactly a big star in terms of acting but a steady stream of…frankly abysmal roles kept food on his table and a roof over his head. He checked his phone, hoping that he would get this callback. It had been the first decent project he had been recommended for and scored an audition at in ages. He needed to manifest a good omen.

____________________

Teh awoke at first daylight, its glare meekly filtering through windows as he rolled over and away from them. Gazing upon his brother’s bed, he felt strange; tonight would be the last night Hoon was to sleep in this room (as at this moment Hoon was likely sleeping soundly next to his husband-to-be in Oh-aew’s comparatively grand four-poster bed at the resort), and to occupy this house. He looked about the room, and it was as if the sun sensed his actions and so rose further to broaden his vision, and he felt bad for the room: when Hoon had moved out for university Teh had occupied it in his absence, and when Teh had moved out Hoon had lived here in his stead. Now the room was to be vacant, an unnecessary thing. He could empathize, but it occurred to him that the room might wish to be superfluous; a weight off of its proverbial shoulders. As he began his diurnal rituals he lost track of himself staring in the mirror—not at himself as he found he looked the same as he had yesterday, but at the reflection of an open window. What might be through that window if traversing the barrier of the looking-glass were possible. His phone buzzed.

~Q: We’re at the airport, see you in a couple of hours~

He did not bother responding to the other best man, instead checking his email as was customary every morning; finding no emails relating to any upcoming work offers but a few wedding related correspondences. He checked to see that the flowers had arrived for tonight’s dinner party, and skimmed through an email from Hoon’s friends who had agreed to plan his brother’s stag party as Teh already had his hands full with other wedding commitments. At least he didn’t have to worry about the venue, as Oh-aew’s parents wanted their only child’s wedding to be supreme, and so were going above and beyond for preparations. Anxiously he reviewed his itinerary for the day, which included ‘finish assorting guest favours and drop off at all guest accommodations’, ‘pick up OA uni friends’, ‘pick up rental car’, ‘confirm dinner orders for Friday’, and ‘book car service pick-up for band at airport Saturday morn.’.

The hallway, living room, and every other available surface was covered with the guest favour bags; each stamped with a custom stamp that stated each groom’s name and the date of their nuptials. He had stayed up late last night to finish them, so the first thing today would be picking up the rental car so he could even begin to transport all of the bags. Pulling up outside of the airport two hours later he had already made two deliveries around the town, despite being a precarious car driver. Oh-aew’s group of friends clambered inside the vehicle after depositing their designer luggage in the trunk; a cloud of perfume following them wherever they went. For half a second he thought to feel out of place in their presence, understanding that he was of a different ilk in the casual clothes and loud-print top he had thrown on that morning, half of a power bar shoved into his mouth to make up for the breakfast he had refused from his mother this morning already.

“You ready?” Q slapped Teh’s thigh, almost causing him to jump “This is going to be a long weekend,” for us.

The best men; Oh-aew’s best friends, confidants, and ever ardent admirers shared a knowing glance in the front seats.

Au popped in his head betwixt them, “What’s the big deal for you two? Party like hell in Patong tonight with Aew, speeches tomorrow during the reception—boom—you’re done; ready to kick back and get shit-faced.”

“You could be a poet,” Q dryly retorted, pushing his friend back into his seat.

“Remember Teh is organizing everything since the wedding planner quit,” Plug chastised Au from the very back of the vehicle. Teh could barely see him in his rearview mirror because of the large parcel he had refused to part with which sat on his lap.

“Man, I mean…I love Aew and all, but that is not something I would sign up for,” Pong stated from beside his boyfriend.

“It’s fine; I’m happy to do it,” Teh brushed off, smiling as though it didn’t pain him, waving his hand. He dropped them off at the pier, trusting that they would catch the next boat and soon be in Oh-aew’s ecstatic grip.

______________________

“Teh! We’re going to be late for my own rehearsal dinner,” Hoon called up the stairs.

“Sorry, coming!” With one last look in the mirror he tried to arrange a strand of hair that kept falling into his eyes—it flopped back—he gave up, giving a frustrated blow of air; now the strand stayed, admittedly at a contrary angle to the rest, but he accepted it. It was a plain suit that he wore part of; leaving the jacket hanging in his closet, he checked the tuck of his shirt and if he had buttoned it evenly.

The dinner was an intimate and joyous communion between the families. Aew and Hoon glowed, feeding each other morsels from their plates as they chatted with each’s parents. Aew caught Teh’s eyes when he rested his head on his fiancé’s shoulder, he blithely grinned at his friend. It wasn’t until the two groups were parting outside the restaurant: each groom heading out to his own party that was sure to extend into the wee hours of the next morn; Hoon’s friends were already waiting for him, Q and Aew were ready to join their group as they would head to Patong—when Oh-aew called out to Teh. Teh was not facing anyone else; he was turned and lost in thought as he stared down the festively lit quiet street. He had spent dinner talking little and eating less.

“Mmm,” he turned to Aew, who had his hand outstretched as if to beckon him.

“Come here,” and when he did, Oh-aew enveloped him in a hug; after all these years he still smelled of coconut, and for this Teh was grateful. His friend’s aroma had remained unchanged, much like his love. “Are you alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah, just a bit tired,” Teh confessed, not ready to let the other go but Aew made no move to release him either. “I hope Hoon isn’t going to require a lot of primping from me tonight or tomorrow,”

Aew chuckled into Teh’s shoulder, “I think Hoon can do his own primping,” For a moment it felt as though he were going to pull away, but then he remembered he had something more to say: “I wish I could have you for the night, Teh, part of me can’t believe that I’m spending the night before my wedding without my first best friend.”

Q was standing next to them and could overhear them, Teh blinked away the tears that threatened to fall and smiled at Q. “You’re in good hands,” he told Oh-aew.

“Teh, do you know what happens after tomorrow?” Teh could feel Oh’s chest swell as he spoke.

“You only have to fill out one tax return for two people,” he dryly commented.

“You and I become family—officially brothers,” the groom beamed.

Another thing Teh had never fantasized.

____________________________

Dreaded, cursed day. It was stunning, the weather was gorgeous, the sea gleamed spectacularly as though in approbation of the blessed event. Teh had spent the morning running around with a checklist to make sure that everything was as it was supposed to be. Oh-aew’s mother had managed to drag him away from where the florists were arranging the wedding arch, and Teh himself had been compulsively rearranging the orchids among the aisles where guests were to sit. She instructed him to have a little break, a nap, some food, anything; and when he’d protested she’d insisted. Briefly, as he was slipping in and out of sleep on a couch up at the main house he wondered if his mother had said something to Oh-aew’s about Teh’s late nights and early mornings this past week. Truthfully, he had been having trouble sleeping; once dreaming that a terrible cold snap had engulfed the country and frozen all the flowers that were being used by the florists, another time he dreamt that his suit didn’t fit at all and he’d be forced to attend the wedding as a groomsman in his high school uniform. That one still struck him as odd; it implied that he had no other even marginally more suitable clothes to wear to a wedding…nevertheless he had checked his closet multiple times a day to confirm that his suit was still there, and tried it on for good measure.

When Teh awoke, after dozing for likely not more than an hour, Oh-aew was sitting on the couch opposite him. His slim legs curled beneath him and still adorned in his pajamas, he looked up from his phone when he saw Teh stirring. He smiled at his sleepy former playmate, Plug padded in with a tray of coffee—the rest of the Patong-party-group remained slumbering or lounging in their beds. No one said anything, in case Teh should wish to sleep again, and they basked in the quiet content of each other’s company, enjoying what would likely be the most tranquil moments that day had to offer. After a while Teh wordlessly rose, fluffing up the couch cushions to their usual, un-squished state, and folding the blanket someone must have laid on top of him.

“How are you feeling?” Teh asked the groom.

Oh-aew looked up at him, cheekily smiling as he stretched his arms well above his head, his movements almost feline. “Good…excited,” he nodded, his smile grew as he brought a hand down to rub his abdomen, “My tummy is fluttering, but that might be from the coffee.”

Walking back out the pier, Teh squinted in the sunlight before bringing his hand above his eyes to shield them from the harsh light. He had to return home to assist the other groom in his preparations; Q and the rest of Oh-aew’s uni friends were helping the younger of the grooms. Teh doubted he could be of much service to his brother; Hoon had always been a much more fastidious groomer, whereas the younger sibling just stuck to bathing and shaving. Teh doubted the classes he had taken for stage hair-and-makeup would be of any use on a day such as this; he chuckled to himself as he imagined returning home to his elder brother needing help applying his wig or needing his eyebrows glued down. His assumptions were correct, and Hoon proved himself to be quite self-sufficient; and upon his inspection Teh found his brother to be wholly immaculate.

From head to heels, and even more particularly in demeanour, Hoon was the perfect man for Oh-aew. They were both intuitive and collected, Hoon staid on the surface and Oh audacious.

“Thank you,” Hoon broke the silence in the room.

“For what?”

Hoon hesitated, thinking and then nodded ever so slightly, almost as if to himself—“For everything—not just today or the last few months with the wedding stuff, but for all these years. You were so supportive of both Oh and me, both as a couple and as individuals, and I know it has to feel a bit strange to you but your actions have affirmed to me that you're just as capable and wonderful as I’ve always known you could be. I just wish you’d start seeing it in yourself, too.”

Teh felt his composure crack, just a hairline fracture, but he nodded in assent as he wiped the twin tears that had begun their downward migration over his bronzed cheeks. The older man bumped his little brother as if he was teasing him for becoming emotional, but engulfed him in a tight hug directly after. His brother’s affectionate actions made the task of staying his tears even more laborious. Teh had promised himself that if he was to break down today it would be at the end of the night when he found himself alone in his childhood bedroom. Swallowing the lump, reminding himself he still had to get through the ceremony and reception, Teh and his brother parted with a final nod, turning and beginning their long wedding procession to the Cape Panwa Hotel.

_________________________

~Oh-aew 🍧: miss you~

Was the text he received when he was standing there with Hoon and the rest of his groomsmen, waiting to get the go-ahead from someone that the ceremony could begin. Attached was a photo of Aew and his friends in his bedroom, all styled and dressed with champagne glasses raised in a toast. Teh could only focus on Oh-aew; he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket yet and his collarbone peeked out from his billowy and translucent lace blouse, his nose was scrunched as he grinned and stuck his tongue out ever so slightly from between his teeth. The end of an era; and he wouldn’t even get to be at Aew’s side for it. For within the half-hour he would be losing Oh-aew as a fantasy lover, a moon that you stretch your mortal hands to so assured that if you just reached out a little bit further it could be in your grasp. They would be brothers-in-law; a daily reminder to Teh that he had never made a valiant effort to lasso the moon.

The grooms wore ivory coloured suits, Hoon with his stiff collared shirt and Aew in languid lace that seeped out the edges of his jacket; Teh and Q wore matching apricot suits while the rest of the wedding party was dressed in tan. From where Teh stood he could see Oh-aew perfectly; how the late afternoon sun reflected off his radiant and shimming cheekbones, and the warm breeze tousled his already style-tousled tresses. His plump, glazed lips moved but Teh did not hear a word they uttered; Aew’s eyes shone with adoration, reiterating each pledge he made to the man before him, a pulchritudinous glimmer as the ring was slid onto his finger…

There was clapping; a hurrah as the newlywed husbands kissed. Teh clapped so hard his palms felt numb, Q did a small and rather awkward applause, made onerous by the bouquet of orchids and ranunculus he held. A vague remembrance of being pulled along with a crowd for wedding photos, all the while every guest in attendance jostled for a better glimpse or an opportunity to be among the first to bless the couple. A flute of champagne was thrust into his hand for a photo toasting the newlyweds: Oh and Hoon kissing, surrounded by their jubilant friends raising them a glass. Teh drank it, wincing as the acrid liquid coated his tongue.

The dance floor surged like an ocean, waves of people came and went—some songs were more popular than others. Some guests chose songs they liked over songs that were good to dance to, while others preferred to tap their feet from the safety of their table. Teh nursed his second glass of champagne, finding that the taste did not improve but deciding that the bubbles were, at least, pleasant. A lacquered hand dropped onto his shoulder, he recognized it as belonging to someone he hadn’t glimpsed since the speeches commenced.

“Come dance with me?” Q spoke, leaning over Teh from behind the chair.

Teh hesitated, almost shaking his head “I’m not a good dancer,” he told the other best man.

“I’m not asking you to be a good dancer,” he chuckled, “I just want to dance with somebody, and you haven’t budged since they served dinner.” He offered his hand out to Teh now.

With a final swig, Teh downed the rest of the drink trying to suppress a wince and stood up accepting Q’s outstretched palm. And for a minute on the dance floor they could simply jump around and mouth the words to the upbeat song that played, slipping on alcohol that had been spilled by others before them, Teh watched from the corner of his eye as Q took long and discreet drags from his juul that he knew how to deftly conceal from years of practice. The song changed to a slow one, the first slow one in ages it felt, but the dance partners fit together neatly. They had never been particularly close; neither would have chosen the other for company had it not been their mutual desire to be in the company of Oh-aew. It was comfortable, not difficult; just sort of holding the other as you shifted weight from one foot to the other.

“I’ve never seen you drink before,” Commented Q, slipping the juul back into his pocket.

“Tastes awful,” Teh shrugged in response, not feeling very loquacious.

“But how does it feel?”

Teh shrugged again, “I don’t feel anything from it,” Silence fell over them again, they just let the music move them as though it was the tide. Teh found himself staring across the dance floor at Aew.

“Are you in love with Aew?” Q asked, with his tone he could have as well been asking about the weather.

Teh hesitated, unsurprised by Q’s perspicacity, but also caught off-guard by a question no one had ever succinctly put to him before. “Yes,” He finally answered, drawing his gaze away from Oh-aew to look at Q.

“I am, too,”

“I know,”

Q threw his head back with a laugh, the mirth of their sorry situation not lost on either of them. Q pulled him closer, posing the next question in a lower tone as though it were juicy gossip: “So tell me; does your brother have any flaws? Tell me about Hoon, Teh; what are his vices?”

Teh found himself chuckling as well, at the absurdity of the question and of their conversation. Wracking his brain for something, he came up blank a couple of times until— “His Japanese is pretty bad,” He finally supplied.

The mirth left Q’s face, replaced by annoyed disbelief. “That’s it! That’s all you can come up with?” He playfully pushed Teh’s shoulder, “Fuck, I’m digging for dirt and all you give me is ‘he’s not particularly bilingual’.”

“Well,” Teh spoke, a somewhat joyless chuckle breaking from his mouth, “Hoon actually speaks English fluently, and, of course, Mandarin…so really it would be more of a fourth language.”

Q rolled his eyes with a groan, “Okay, never mind; let’s talk about something else,”

“I liked your speech,” Teh quipped with a grin, possibly the first one of the whole day.

“Thanks—I hope you don’t mind that I kinda put some words into your mouth about the ‘best men’ thing,”

“—Not at all; I liked what you said about how the ‘real best men’ were actually Oh and Hoon.” Teh assured.

“Well, it’s the truth…I mean, shit, they’re not marrying us.” Q stated depreciatively.

Teh hesitated, unsure if he should make the next joke or not; as it was a bit unsavoury. “Well, actually; I’d only want to marry Oh-aew between the two of them.”

“Understandable,” Q nodded “I’ll marry Hoon, and then have a torrid love affair with Aew.” He had taken the juul from his pocket, inhaling deeply and holding it in.

“You’d cheat on my brother!” Teh pretended to be hurt, Q laughed, swishing his hand back and forth to push the smoke away from Teh’s face. “I’d marry Oh-aew and then have torrid love affair with Oh-aew.” He quipped, glad that the music was loud enough for their conversation to be somewhat private.

“Silly!” Q chastised, “You’re supposed to say that you’d have a love affair with me!” They both laughed, and Teh wanted Q to blow smoke in his face again. “You smell good, what is it?”

Teh thought for a second, caught off guard by the statement. “I guess it’s my body lotion, it’s vanilla and pistachio.”

“You’ll have to text me the brand, I want to get some,” Q offhandedly remarked.

“What did you think of my speech?” Teh questioned.

His companion shrugged, his juul stowed away again. “You’re an actor; you can make anything sound good.”

Before Teh could ask if that was an insult, the song changed; the tempo picked up and thrummed in his chest, beating there like a second heart. Q jerked his head and pulled Teh along with him across the dance floor towards Oh-aew.