"How close is 'beside the heart,' huh?"
"What's wrong with you?" Jet complained. I sighed, waving my hand dismissively to tell him to forget it. Useless as always. The only thing he's good at is drawing.
Yeah, same as me.
"What's wrong with you now, man?"
"Have you ever listened to the song 'Being Everything for You, Even If I Can't Be Yours'?"
"Whoa, is that really the title of a song?" Both Pae and Jet shook their heads vigorously. I hadn't heard it before either, but last night Qin played it in the room while we were working separately. I was sitting there shirtless, painting, while he sat with his headphones on, tapping away on his computer, refusing to eat anything.
But then, he took off his headphones.
'Duang.'
'Yeah?'
'Listen.'
And that ridiculously long-titled song—longer than some novel titles I've seen in bookstores—started playing and just kept looping in my head. My first question was whether he played it because it was a good song or because it meant something.But, well, trying to figure out Qin is harder than figuring out anyone else in the world.
"What were the lyrics?"
"I only remember one line. It goes, 'A friend by your side, no matter how good they are, is just someone beside your heart.'"
"Friend zone."
"Hurts like hell."
"Exactly."
"Who even made you listen to that? Why is it so depressing? Like, listen to this—'No matter how good they are, they're just someone beside your heart.' Bro, getting kicked in the face would hurt less than that line. Seriously."
"Jet's got a point." I let out an even longer sigh. Maybe I'm just overthinking it. No wonder Qin always says I'm as dramatic as a girl.
Honestly, I never overthink anything else—it's just when it comes to him.
"So, who gave you the song?"
"Qin, obviously."
"Damn, that's tough. Maybe he just played it because it's a nice song?" Jet said, munching on a snack. That guy's mouth is never empty—eats like a champ. I should sign him up for one of those competitive eating contests
Pae loves to watch.
"You're just overthinking it, man. Why not ask him directly?"
"Wow, yeah, because that wouldn't be awkward at all," I snapped.
"You already asked him if you could court him."
"That was, like, a year ago, and you're still stuck in the same place.""Dumbass, it's only been six months!" I argued fiercely. Time tests all things, dude. Even if it takes until I'm sixty, as long as the destination is the same, I'll wait.
"By the way, weren't you supposed to go somewhere at 6:15? It's five minutes past already."
"Shit!"
"Definitely picking up Qin, no doubt."
"Service with a smile."
"Water dripping on stone every day—except the stone calls you his chauffeur." (cocochip : this book really like to use thai idiom 😂 it also can be interpret as "You're being all sweet and persistent, but to him, you're just his driver.")
"I'll kick your ass." I lifted my foot toward my friends before scrambling to the car. I know how punctual he is—always early. And now, here I am, running late to pick him up.
I sighed.
Honestly, it's been a mess since last night after the song ended. He went to bed before me because I was still working. I didn't crawl into bed until almost 3 AM. When I slipped under the blanket, he woke up just enough to pat my head a couple of times. By the time I woke up, he was already off to class. We only exchanged a few texts—mostly about me picking him up so we could have dinner together.
A day with him is simple... just like friends.
Yeah, like that 'friend by your side' the song mentioned.
"Hey, sorry I'm late."
"It's fine." He shook his head, stomping out his cigarette before bending down to toss the butt in the trash can properly. The last light of the days oftened his pale skin, making it glow. I smiled faintly—he was wearing his usual backless slippers, a wrinkled shirt, and had come to class with nothing but a single blue pen.
So cute.
"Did you wait long?"
"My friends just left a minute ago. I finished my cigarette right as you showed up."
"How many cigarettes today?"
"Three," he counted on his fingers before answering as we walked side by side to the car. I reached over to brush the hair covering his eyes and softly told him it would make his eyes red.
He gave a curt 'thanks' before moving closer, his nose brushing against my upper arm.
"That's my perfume."
"Heh."
"Unbelievable."
"I only used a little."
"We smell the same now," he murmured like a child after sniffing himself. So, I sneakily pressed my nose against his shoulder. It was that perfume scent, mixed with a faint chill of cigarette smoke.
"Real smooth."
"Just a little, Duang missed you. You didn't even tell me you were going to class."
"You were sleeping like you were dead," Qin rolled his eyes."Really?"
"Yeah, I even pinched you, and you didn't feel a thing."
I widened my eyes, stopping mid-step to ask him in a startled voice. "What? Where did you pinch me?"
"Your cheek," he answered with a blank expression, but my heart pounded hard in my chest. If this were a romantic movie, I'd be the shy girl crushing on the cold-hearted senior who secretly touches my cheek while I'm asleep.
Holy shit.
"Why?"
"You— You actually touched my cheek?"
"Pinched. I pinched."
"Same thing."
"Pinching is like this."
I winced when he actually pinched my cheek, but it didn't end there... I almost forgot how to breathe when he said, in a warm voice, while his cool fingers brushed against my skin, gently tracing my cheek:
"And this is touching."
Can I scream?
He's so freaking cute.
"You're such a softie."
"You're the soft one! Running away like that."
I teased him back because I couldn't hold back the wide smile that spread across my face when he stood there rubbing my cheek. When our eyes met, he cursed at me and walked ahead, light on his feet.
Shy, huh? That guy.
"Hey, my special someone, wait for meee!"
"Too loud."
"My special someone!~"
"Do you want to die?" Qin asked, pretending to be stern, but with the way I see him, he's just like a puffed-up cat trying to act tough. I shrugged, opened the driver's side door, and got into the car. He let out a soft breath as the cold air hit him—he hates the heat, even though he's always cool to the touch.
I glanced at him as he connected his phone to the Bluetooth to play some music. Not long after, the same haunting melody from last night began to play.
Seriously?
"You don't like it?"
"N-No."
"You're flustered."
"I'm not... It's just—why are you playing this song again? This is the second time."
"So?"
"It makes me overthink."
"Overthink what? Are you a game for me to sit here and guess?"
"Come on, you make me guess everything about you too."
"If you want to know, just ask. Stop overthinking... stop imagining things," he scolded, making me shrink in my seat.
When the light turned red, I glanced over at him—only to find him already looking back at me. It was as if he was waiting for the question, and his eyes revealed that he would really answer it—
Every question I was about to ask.
"The song feels like a friend zone."
"You've never been my friend."
"Wow."
"Told you a hundred times, you're my special someone."
"Don't even—I'm counting, okay? You've only said it a few times. Once, to be exact."
"I told other people."
"..."
"What? I've never hidden it. If people ask, I tell them. You're always glued to me anyway."
I started feeling warm and reached over to turn up the air conditioning. I heard him chuckle softly, like he was teasing me for having such a weak immune system.
Yeah, well, when it comes to immunity against him, I never had any.
"I let you listen to it because it's a good song. It's not mainstream—the lyrics are nice, and the melody is great."
"And here I was overthinking."
"Which part of the lyrics got to you so much?"
"This one—'Just a friend of yours, that's all I am. No matter how good I am, I'm still just the person by your side.'"
"Hmm, okay."
"Don't overanalyze everything like you're some tough kid around here, okay? We're talking about sensitive stuff! I'm water, and you're a rock—you wouldn't understand, hmm?"
I placed my hand on his head and gave it a playful shake. He shook me off gently before punching my shoulder hard and telling me to focus on driving.
"Stop using that joke already—'a drop of water wears down a rock'— seriously?"
"Well, what does the rock say? Answer that first."
"The rock says, 'I'm hungry. Drive faster.'"
"Whoa, you're actually playing along!"
"Idiot."
I laughed softly.
It felt like we were sitting closer together, even though we hadn't moved an inch.Everything felt special when it came to him. Even the ordinary became the most special thing.
"But actually, there's one part of the song that really fits reality." I said, watching the sun slowly disappear over the horizon.
I didn't even know if Qin was looking at me... but in the next moment—
"I'd be everything for you, even if I can't be yours."
He placed his hand on my thigh as if to say—
"If you don't love me, that's okay."
He's still here.
At the very least, he's letting me love him.
__________
Duang stretched, slipping off his jeans until he was left in just his boxers. He draped them over a chair, letting his eyes sweep over his messy room,and suddenly thought of the room of the person he had been staying overfor a long time recently.
He should probably do some merit-making to balance things out— Of course, how many merit had he used up just to get Qin to let him stay over?
Honestly, he was secretly grateful to his older brother for buying a place so far from the university—it gave him an excuse to crash at Qin's place more often. Even though Jet's dorm was closer, there was no way he'd ever set foot there.
White—yeah, everything in his heart was pure white every day.
That person... he's so careless."Shit, tough as hell to kill," the tall guy muttered to himself because he had just been thinking about his brother a moment ago. Damn it... what was he calling to nag about now?
"Hello? What's up, hia?"
[Come home sometime. Your liver's gonna give out, Duang.]
"Hiaaa, I'm busy studying, okay?"
[Isn't it because you're busy with a girl?]
"Heh." Duang tilted his head back and drank some cold water before walking over to the sink to refill a spray bottle. He hadn't watered the plants in his room for ages—were they even still alive?
[My sources tell me you've got someone you're talking to. Who is it?]
"Well, it's not a girl."
[I'm asking seriously here.]
"Whatever my heart tells me. If it's a guy, so be it."
[Must be really cute then—you're totally whipped.]
"Honestly, hia? He's even hotter than me." He laughed softly to himself— yeah, hotter for sure. Paler, better built, better posture.
And that smile? It could kill.
Damn, he was thinking about him again.
[You're probably his wife by now.]
"No way."
[Don't ruin the family name.]
"I don't know... if he's not into that, I'm fine with it."[I'm gonna die. Seriously, I bet you love him more than our parents, huh?]
"You're exaggerating."
[Here's the thing—can you even win him over? Focus on that first.]
"Damn, you really underestimate me, Funan."
And oh yeah—people might be wondering why he's named Duang and his brother is named Nan. Here's the deal: their dad was an archaeologist, and so was their mom. They'd been obsessed with ancient coins forever. So when they had kids—boom, firstborn was Funan, second was Phod Duang.
[Anyway, nothing much. Just telling you to come home, mutt.]
"Okay, okay. I'll come by soon."
[Bring your 'almost boyfriend' to try Mom's cooking. Just pretend if you have to.]
"Can't pretend with this one. I'm serious."
[At least get him to come over first, big talker.]
"Guess I learned that from you."
[I ought to kick your ass.]
The younger one chuckled softly. After exchanging a few more words, he hung up. The shirtless Duang walked around the room watering his plants before taking a deep breath and starting to clean. He'd grown used to Qin's perfectly tidy place, and by comparison, his own room was a mess.
He organized books and sketchpads on the shelves while gathering dried paintbrushes into a basin, turning on the tap to wash them carefully, one by one. With a sigh, he realized that no matter how much he cleaned, it felt like he'd barely made a dent. But he kept at it, working steadily until it wasalmost 10 p.m.
"Ugh."
He sighed, slumping against the bed with a long groan.Whoever said cleaning clears your mind must have been lying—this was only making him more stressed. So much stuff, and he hadn't even been living here for a year yet. Maybe he should ask his brother to take some of his junk back home.
His sharp eyes landed on a guitar he found while cleaning. It probably belonged to Funan, his brother had been using it to woo girls since high school. As for Duang? He couldn't play a single chord. He'd told everyone that drawing was the only thing he was good at.
Well... there was one other thing he was good at—
"Damn." —flirting with Qin.
[Come down.]
"Huh?"
Duang swore over and over again. In a million years, Qin would never randomly call him like this. Seriously, people like him still exist—someone who isn't glued to social media, who has an Instagram but only uses it once every three months, and who leaves messages on Line unread for days.
Some people might get left on read for a month. But today, someone like that actually called him.
"Where are you going?"
[They won't let me in. They said I need a keycard.]
Wait.
Hold on."You're at my dorm?"
[Yeah.]
"Hey, are you okay? I'll come down. Are you alright? Stand somewhere bright."
The tall guy grabbed a random T-shirt from his closet while frantically searching for his keys. His fumbling around must have been loud because the person on the other end calmly said—
[I'm fine. No need to rush.]
"Of course, I'm rushing. You've never been here. Hold on, okay? Don't hang up—I'm getting in the elevator."
His full lips pressed together as he realized just how slow the elevator was. By the time it finally reached the ground floor, he was practically jogging to tap his card at the entrance.
And there Qin was, standing with two packets of Hainanese chicken rice and a container of soup.
"Eat."
"How did you get here? It's far."
"Jet brought me."
"How did you run into him?"
"I was buying chicken rice, then I saw him, and asked where your dorm was."
"And then what?" Duang took advantage of the moment while Qin was thinking and smoothly grabbed the chicken rice from him. Up close, he could tell the other guy had already showered—and was wearing pajamas.
Don't tell him...
"Jet said it's far. If he let me come alone, you'd get mad."
"So, you came to eat chicken rice at my dorm?"
"No. I came to sleep over."Damn it, Duang.
You're one lucky bastard.
"Are you trying to kill me or something?" he muttered softly while gently guiding Qin into the elevator and pressing the button for the tenth floor. He noticed Qin glancing around before murmuring—
"This isn't a dorm. It's a condo... and only four rooms per floor."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."
"Which one's yours?"
"Zero-two."
"Your room's a mess."
"No way. I just finished cleaning. It's weird—I must've sensed you were coming," Duang joked cheerfully as he opened the door. The warm chicken rice packets were set down on the coffee table. Qin looked around, noticing how everything was neatly divided into different zones like a typical studio suite. The owner of the room stood there, grinning dreamily at him.
"What?"
"Did you come because you missed me?"
"..."
"Not answering means yes."
And Qin didn't answer.
Because, well, it was true.
"It's weird."
"What it is?"
"A room without you in it."
Duang wanted to collapse right there—face down on the floor—and cry because words couldn't capture how ridiculously good it felt to hear Qin say stuff like this in his usual deadpan tone, as if it wasn't anything special.
"Addicted to Duang already."
"Nonsense."
"Coming over for chicken rice—bet you get hungry every night."
"Well, it's tasty."
"Do you want something other than water? I have fruit juice—it's probably not expired yet." The owner of the room leaned on the fridge door while the visitor peeked past his arm and spotted a beer.
"I'll take the beer."
"If you get drunk, I'm gonna take advantage of you."
"Me? Drunk?"
"I'm hoping, okay? People survive on hope."
"Just bring it here, hurry up."
"You start eating first."
"No."
There it is—that stubborn face again.
If they don't eat together, he won't eat.
Duang plopped down across from the guy who was holding his utensils, waiting to dig into the chicken rice. Qin's order—no skin, extra liver, no cucumber. When Duang started sipping the soup, the other finally began eating, carefully pouring the dipping sauce over his rice one bite at a time.
Honestly, Duang wasn't even hungry. He was just pretending to eat so the person who went out of his way to bring chicken rice wouldn't feel bad. When it came to Qin, he always wanted to give him the best.
"Is it good?"
"Yeah."
"Want more chicken?"
"Yeah."
"Fatty."
"Your dad's the fatty."
"I'm just kidding~" He wasn't fat—he just had cute cheeks. But you couldn't tease him about it, or you'd get punched. Duang watched as Qin devouredthe food like he hadn't just seen him at 4 PM—when he had already treated him to Vietnamese noodles.
Such an appetite.
"Stop looking at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you're fond of me."
"Oh, so you know this is my fond look? That means you secretly find me cute too."
"Big mouth." Qin stuffed a spoonful of rice into Duang's mouth, annoyed by his endless teasing. And him? Well, he had dragged himself all the wayhere—absolutely ridiculous.
"Hey, I found a guitar."
"Yeah, I saw. It's nice."
"I had no clue—it's Funan's."
"Your brother's, right?"
"You remember?"
"Both your names are weird."
"And yours isn't?" Duang scrunched his nose at the soup-sipping guy.
"What's weird about it? It's just Qin."
"Never heard it before in my life."
"Actually, it has two meanings—Qin can mean 'fault' or 'beautiful.'" Duang loved learning new things about Qin. Even if it was just a simple late-night chicken rice conversation, he loved it. He loved that Qin was finally starting to talk about himself because, until now, he had always just been the listener.
"It can mean something bad, or something good... Mom said it's normal— everyone has good and bad in them. That's why I'm called Qin."
"That's special."
"You're biased."
"Of course I am—I like you," Duang grinned widely, proving his point by piling his own chicken onto Qin's plate. He liked him so much he'd give him all his chicken. Honestly, eating with him... he didn't even need the food.But he wouldn't say that—he'd just get smacked.
"At first, I thought you were named Qin because you had Chinese ancestry."
"I used to think that too."
"Chinese boy~"
"Annoying."
"Wow, you finished everything—not a single grain of rice left." Qin wanted to punch the guy who could tease him even about the way he ate. If he didn't already know Duang was trying to flirt, he'd think he was just here to mess with him.
With his pale hands, Qin picked up his empty plate and, without forgetting, grabbed Duang's too. He shot a glare, signaling that he'd wash them himself —don't interfere. All Duang could do was watch the familiar back of the person who always seemed so adorable to him, standing there washing the dishes with full focus.
"You."
"What?"
"I want to see you in this room every day."
"..."
"I mean it."
Just the thought of waking up in the morning to see Qin's sleepy face, refusing to get out of bed, made him feel happy. And imagining having breakfast together every day made his heart race uncontrollably.
"Same here."
Duang locked eyes with the person who had just finished doing the dishes —and was now doing something incredibly endearing, like avoiding hisgaze after admitting he wanted to see him in the room every day too.
The tall guy got up from the chair, pulled off his t-shirt, and tossed it into the laundry basket. Taking advantage of the moment while someone was internally battling between his cool side and his cat-like side, Duang moved closer and pressed his nose gently against Qin's shoulder, murmuring softly,
"I'm gonna take a shower."
"Mm."
As that broad, bare back disappeared from view, the pale-skinned mandropped himself onto the sofa in the middle of the room. He closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh because his heart was pounding so hard—he was afraid the other person might hear it. He knew that wasn't possible, but he didn't want to seem so flustered and clumsy in front of that teasing bastard.
His delicate hand rested on his chest, realizing that his heart hadn't slowed down in the slightest—just because of that warm touch on his shoulder.
There wasn't much going on between them. Holding hands happened only occasionally, and Duang rarely initiated contact because he knew Qin had a habit of pulling away.
It wasn't intentional—he just wasn't used to being touched.
But that just now... he kissed your shoulder, Qin
Damn it.
"Shit."
He cursed softly to himself, grabbing the neck of the guitar to inspect it— anything to keep his mind from spiraling. Otherwise, the moment the guy finished showering, he'd get teased mercilessly. He hated it.
Duang, who showered ridiculously fast, strolled out of the bathroom with wet hair and a towel slung over his shoulder. He had already dressed inside the bathroom. Today, he had teased Qin enough—he didn't want to push itfurther and make him hiss like an angry cat. Not because he was scared—he just felt sorry for him.
"..."
It was probably the first time he'd ever seen Qin play the guitar.
Since Qin studied jazz, the work he brought home rarely involved practicing instruments—those were too big, and he usually practiced them on campus. Duang knew Qin had a good voice. Actually, it was ridiculously good—because his major was vocal performance.
He was a singer, for god's sake.
No way that could be ordinary.
"I'm so in love with those eyes... I love your smile, I love the days and nights."
Duang realized he was getting payback.
Qin met his gaze, singing that line from the sofa casually as if it was
nothing special. But there was no way it wasn't special—not when it was coming from the most special person in his world. Duang sank into a chair further away. He wanted to watch Qin from a distance—just like he always did.
Because it reminded him how special he was to be allowed this close.
"I love the times when we meet—it's like a fading dream that slips away."
And that's when Duang knew—this song was about him. It had to be.From the look in his eyes.
From the lyrics.
From the silent message his heart conveyed.
"On nights when the sky is full of stars, there's a pair of eyes on the ground that shine the brightest."
And then Duang smiled.
The widest smile he'd ever worn—when the final line arrived, accompanied by the soft strumming of the guitar. Between them, it was a private song.
And he was sure of it.
"I'm so in love with those eyes..."
When Qin smiled.