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“—think he’s going to prefer strawberry?” Pakorn overheard someone speaking on the phone.
Pakorn was sure that he recognized the voice. He turned his head swiftly towards the end of the aisle to catch a good sight of the boy to confirm his thoughts. He halted his cart down the grocery aisle and took a deep breath.
It was there again—the same thing that picked Pakorn's interest.
“He’s so picky, I might as well make both. Wait—what if I just made both?” A scoff, and then an unparalleled excitement that echoed despite the bustling store. “I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes I made it.”
Oh?
Is the boy next door…confessing?
On Valentine’s Day?
Now, Pakorn wasn’t averse to gossip—in fact, partaking in them was one of his flaws (besides being painstakingly handsome, but that was an entirely different problem). He wasn’t sure why it piqued his curiosity so much—maybe it was the frustrated voice, or the fact that the boy in question was talking about something… intriguing.
Leaning back to hear better, Pakorn pretended to look at the row of cake mixes in the aisle. Strawberry, chocolate, vanilla mix—ah, Dissaya might appreciate a cake making agenda. Valentine’s Day is on Friday; they could easily spend their evening with Pran baking. Besides, Dissaya liked seeing him in an apron, although he’d definitely have to be dressed because Pran would be there—
“Dark or milk chocolate? I know he doesn’t like the white chocolate ones.” A pause. Pakorn swore he heard a pitchy voice on the other line—perhaps, the younger sister—then, Pat said, “I just know. He always gives me his white kit kats. I’ve never seen him eat it.”
Pakorn almost laughed, distracted by the thought of Pran who loved white chocolate-flavored kit kats. Pran always reminded him before he’d go to the store to pick up an extra bag.
Smiling tenderly, he was reminded of a fond memory at home when one day, Dissaya commented, “You used to not like it as a kid, what made you change your mind?” which Pakorn knew was true, because Pran was fussy and too stubborn sometimes, especially when fixating on things he liked and disliked. It was a trait he definitely got from Dissaya.
But then high school hit and Pran somehow became so into white chocolate-flavored things all of a sudden.
Pran sported a beaming smile, one that made all his dimples deepen in his cheeks. He glowed with glee at just the thought of it. It made Pakorn peer at him curiously through his glasses as Pran said, “I just like it a lot now.” Pran leaned back on the couch with a melancholic sigh, looking at the bag of kit kats perched on his lap. Then, Pran looked up at his parents, his smile turning into a soft and fond one. “Sometimes you can’t choose what you end up liking.”
Dissaya’s laughter rang loudly as she looked at Pran and back to Pakorn fondly. “Our son talks like a TV star,” she joked, but she reached over and held Pran’s hand. It was a beautiful memory to Pakorn, so he always bought Pran white chocolate-flavored snacks from then on.
But now, the point was that Pran seemed opposite to whoever Pat was talking about.
Whoever Pat seemed to be baking for, which made Pakorn quite surprised.
The sporty Pat who walked around with pride in his stead which reminded Pakorn of Ming’s prideful gait. Pat who equally bested Pran in sports while growing up, the one who embodied masculinity that he was 100% sure was put on his shoulders by Ming. Pakorn could imagine Ming thinking that baking was only for women, something that Pat shouldn’t partake in.
It was obvious though, from the way Pat had been lingering in the baking aisle for a while now. Pat could be defying Ming in such a small way. Pakorn's heart swelled from that, damn it. Dissaya was right. He was a softie, but at least he was a proud one.
“What if I do a third flavor since white chocolate is out? Green tea?”
Pakorn wasn’t sure why he felt relief being reminded of such a miniscule detail, that this person Pat could be into didn’t love white chocolate as much as Pran did, especially after deducing that Pat might be…
Pakorn shook his head, reminded of his own reflections of Pran and his propensity to let comments slip every now and then about how the male leads in the lakorns they indulged with were handsome. Despite Pran’s subtlety, it still came more than the compliments he’d given the female leads, and Pakorn liked to think he was a good father for knowing his son well enough with the small details Pran slipped beneath the perfectly careful and polite son persona Dissaya liked to put him in.
Pran might like boys, and Pakorn was fine with that. It didn’t make him less of the perfect son he was to him and Dissaya. He was open to the idea that Pran might take home a boy one day to meet them.
A boy that should definitely not be Pat. At least for Dissaya’s sake.
Except now that he was hearing Pat in the flesh talk about making sweets for a certain boy—it certainly made Pakorn interested in what his own son was up to in school. His own high school was definitely an adventure. They’re at the age of young love blooming, Pakorn thought dreamily. He wasn’t about to miss his son’s, so he made a mental note to ask Pran later.
“Wait, but what if he doesn’t like it?” Pat exhaled suddenly. “You know, he’s got such high standards—”
Pakorn let out a loud chuckle at that. Pakorn was about to move on when he heard a small voice behind him.
“Uncle,” Pat said, clearly surprised. He definitely heard Pakorn’s laugh. “Uh, Mr. Siridechawat.”
When Pakorn turned, Pat gave him a polite wai with one hand. His eyes were wide as if he thought he got caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Maybe he did, Pakorn thought in his head, but only for your father, kid, so Pakorn gave him a friendly smile. He was never as stern as Dissaya regarding the family feud, but Pat still looked frightened. Pakorn lingered his gaze down to Pat’s grocery basket, which was filled with baking ingredients, and in Pat's free hand was a box of green tea pepero sticks.
“Good luck on your confession,” Pakorn said, which could be out of the blue for Pat, but not for Pakorn who thought Ming would not be thrilled to know this at all.
This made Pat turn beet red and embarrassed, blinking furiously at him. “Oh no—I wasn’t going to confess—”
“There's nothing wrong with it,” was all Pakorn said comfortingly with a hand up. “You don’t have to worry, I will never tell your dad. It will be our little secret.”
Pat’s eyes were now the size of saucers. His mouth was agape in shock. No sound came out, even though Pat looked like he wanted to say something, like maybe a thank you.
Pakorn thought he was doing great at being supportive.
He eyed Pat’s basket once more. It seemed like Pat settled on three flavors—chocolate, strawberry, and green tea. Three things, huh, seemed perfect for I love you. It never crossed his mind that Pat had a romantic bone in him, but then again, he didn’t really know Pat. Pran, on the other hand… maybe his son would be the same. Pakorn smiled. “You seemed to have thought this through. I’m sure he will like it.”
“I–”
“I’ll see you around, Pat,” Pakorn said, and then he turned around the corner.
(Pat’s voice was defensive as he hissed at Pa over the phone while in the grocery line. “I don’t plan to confess to Pran, I am pranking him. I only wanted to see the look on his face when he finds out I’m the best secret admirer he’s ever had—”
“Riiiiiiight,” Pa replied with a laugh. “Who does that to your enemy? Tell that to the cheesy poems collection you’re planning to put in your home-crafted Valentine’s day cards—”
“Did you go through my desk—”
“Hia, putting ‘don’t be afraid to take whisks with me’ is not romantic—”
“What—hey! That one was funny!”
“Neither is ‘we’re a matcha made in—”)
“Huh,” was all Pakorn said after the realization.
Just a few minutes ago, Pran put down bagfuls of sweets on their dining table. An array of homemade desserts and store-bought treats all contained in colorful but uniquely Valentine’s day wrapping papers. Pran lined them up neatly, making sure that they were presentable before snapping a photo. Then, Dissaya noticed an obnoxiously bright red bag with sparkles in them at the corner of the table that Pran didn’t lay out.
“What about that one?” Dissaya had wondered aloud, leaning over Pran, to which Pran responded by almost defensively picking it up and putting it close to his chest.
Hastily, Pran had replied, “This one’s mine!”
Now, it wasn’t surprising for Pran to come home with a lot of presents on Valentine’s day. In fact, Pakorn and Dissaya loved hearing stories of Pran’s adventure each year, the interesting confessions he’d get, the ones he liked the most. Pran never seemed interested in any of them, though, the fire in his eyes only burning bright when asked about whether he’d won the popularity contest in school with the amount of stickers stuck on his shirt. What was surprising was the way Pran felt strangely possessive over this one present.
Pakorn exchanged teasing glances with Dissaya across the table. He was definitely as curious as Dissaya, and Pran was always a sucker for his parents, so he eventually caved in and took out what was in the bag. Inside it were three individual cupcake containers, bold and red stickers of I ♡ U on top of each one. One of them was already eaten, but Pran eccentrically kept the empty container with the ♡ on it.
Dissaya had nudged Pran with her elbow and said, “Someone special?”
Pran had pursed his lips into a straight line, his chin dimple showing as he tilted his head and scratched his cheek. “I guess you could say that.”
“It seems special,” Pakorn had commented, looking down at the pink and green icing on top of each cupcake. “They made three different flavors?”
“Yeah,” Pran said, vibrating with excitement. Pakorn looked at the way Pran’s eyes lit up like no other as he opened the U piece, carefully putting the matcha cupcake out and looking at it fondly. “The chocolate was really delicious. They're all decorated nicely.”
Then, Dissaya said, “Yeah, there’s even a green pepero sticking out of it—”
And oh.
Oh.
This is… shocking. Mind-shattering. Concerning.
Pakorn wasn’t sure what to feel as the realization hit him.
Three flavors.
Pat.
How Pran insisted on making a white chocolate cake.
How Pran suddenly liked it.
Pat saying whoever he's confessing to didn’t like it, and how none of Pran’s presents ever seemed to have white chocolate flavored things, maybe because Pran gave—
"Huh." Pakorn breathed in deeply. Once he regained his composure, Pakorn leaned into his chair as his heart thumped wildly. “Pran, do you still want to make a white chocolate cake tonight? What if we made a green tea cake?” Pakorn asked.
“No!” came Pran’s too-swift reply, “It has to be white chocolate.”
Ah.
“It's Pran's favorite, after all,” Dissaya said, looking at Pran affectionately.
Of course.
Pakorn clapped his hands resolutely. “So, when should we start?”
Later that evening, when Pran giddily brought a giant cake slice up to his room, Pakorn said nothing as he cuddled up to Dissaya on the couch.
It's risky and dangerous, but perhaps there were secrets meant to be kept between him and Pran.