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The birds had stopped singing as the IDF moved through the woods silently, their guns held at the ready. Montree was meant to be fleeing the area along with all the drugs he was selling, and the group was on high alert for any sign of movement which could give away their targets’ whereabouts. It seemed like the trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting for the confrontation that would finally put Montree behind bars.
The stillness was disrupted as a phone vibrated, and Thongthai looked at his teammates angrily—even a sound that small could give away their position. He turned towards Khem, the reprimand already on his tongue. But Khem looked equally annoyed, scanning the group for the source of the disruption. To their surprise, the inspector was the culprit, and he signalled the group to stop moving as he answered the phone.
He was silent for a second, and then he told the person on the other end how the group was about to make an arrest.
Thongthai exchanged a glance with Yai after hearing this, relieved to see the other man looking as determined as he felt. They had been waiting months for this moment, and all of the IDF were counting on this being the final showdown that got Montree into custody at long last.
“Tharn and Phaya got attacked?”
The inspector’s voice was louder now, and Yai’s attention snapped to him.
“Where are they now?”
Yai took a step towards the inspector, but the inspector shook his head sharply at Yai, signaling him to get back in formation. Yai obeyed, but Thongthai could see the tension in his body as he waited for the inspector to tell them what was going on.
“Chart? Chart!”
The inspector’s voice had risen even more with frustration, and Thongthai’s concern increased. Not only was the inspector being louder than was realistically safe in this situation, but he was talking to Chart? The same Chart who had failed preliminary training; who had spent so long harassing Tharn?
The inspector swore, putting down the phone.
“Sir, what’s going on?” Yai demanded, exchanging unsettled glances with the rest of the team. “Are Tharn and Phaya hurt?”
“I don’t know,” the inspector said tightly. “All Chart said was that they had gotten attacked somewhere, and then he stopped answering. We need to find him to figure out what’s going on.”
Khem frowned.
“Are we talking about the same person here? The Chart I know, the Chart we all know, would be celebrating them getting hurt. He works for Montree, remember?”
He didn’t try and hide the dislike from his voice; while he was quick to forgive those who hurt him, he held much longer grudges against people who hurt his friends.
“Chart has been undercover, working for me, for the past few months,” the inspector answered briskly. “After he failed the training, I recruited him to work for Montree while reporting back to me—it was the only way we’d be able to keep an eye on Montree’s location and current activities. Chart has been keeping tabs of the drugs they sell, but also collecting evidence for me about Tharn’s father and my brother. He’s also looking for evidence that Montree was responsible for Lieutenant Tam’s death.”
The group was silent for a second, processing the information. Finally, Singh spoke up, voicing a question that Thongthai had been thinking as well.
“So the day we investigated the spider tattoos… you knew Chart would be there?”
He was on his tablet as he spoke, likely working on Montree’s location.
The inspector nodded.
“I had to keep it a secret; if we had arrested Khom, we wouldn’t have been able to get to Montree. It was safest for everyone if Chart stayed undercover, so he could gain Montree’s trust.”
“Still, how could you not tell us anything?” Yai broke in angrily. “We’re supposed to work together, to be a team. Don’t we deserve to know what’s going on? Especially Tharn, shouldn’t he know the truth? We’ve spent so long thinking Chart was a traitor, if Tharn had only—”
“How could I trust you?” The inspector’s voice was laced with pain. “Lieutenant Tam died because someone on the inside gave Montree information; how could I trust anyone?”
Singh gestured for Thongthai to come over as the inspector spoke, showing him the tablet screen.
“I’ve found Chart’s location; it’s not moving. We should tell the inspector, right? Chart could be with Montree right now.”
Thongthai nodded, gesturing for the inspector to come over.
“Sir, Singh has tracked Chart’s location. It could lead us to Montree; his location is close to where we suspect the warehouse is.”
The inspector exhaled, calling the rest of the group over.
“Could we track down Phaya and Tharn this way?” Yai asked, looking over Singh’s shoulder at the tablet.
“Hopefully,” Singh responded, furrowing his eyebrows as he punched some information into the tablet. After a minute of looking, he let out a triumphant sound.
“I found them; they’re on the west side of the forest.”
Yai’s eyes flashed with determination as he looked at the inspector, who sighed and nodded.
“I know what you’re going to ask, and I’m not going to stop you. We’ll split into two groups: Yai, go with the forest rangers and find Phaya and Tharn. If they’re hurt, call for assistance immediately; don’t worry about us.”
Yai stood at attention, bowing to the inspector.
“Be safe, everyone,” he said, before disappearing into the forest.
“As for the rest of us,” the inspector continued, “we’re going to arrest Montree. Take a few minutes to make sure your weapons are prepared, and then meet me by the truck.”
“Yes, sir!” the group echoed.
Singh followed the inspector, showing him something on his tablet, and Khem looked back at the spot where Yai disappeared. Thongthai went to check his gun, but Khem’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked, his cheery aura replaced with what looked like nervousness.
Thongthai nodded, and Khem led them a little ways away, where they couldn’t be overheard.
“Is everything okay?” Thongthai asked, unsettled by this serious version of Khem. “What is it?”
Khem dug through his pockets for a few seconds, and Thongthai gave him a look of annoyed endearment. Even in moments like this, Khem was constantly misplacing things.
“Aha!” Khem finally exclaimed, pulling something from his breast pocket. A thin silver chain dangled from his fingers, and a beautiful ring was threaded onto the chain.
“Khem, what is this?” Thongthai asked, his heart picking up speed against his will.
He stared at it for a second, and Khem laughed quietly.
“You’re hopeless,” he said fondly, coming behind Thongthai and putting the necklace on him.
Thongthai reached for the ring, moving it between his fingers as Khem looked at him endearingly.
“It’s beautiful, but why are you giving this to me?”
Thongthai tried to ask the question casually, but he suspected he failed once Khem’s expression changed to an unreadable one.
“Keep it safe for me,” Khem requested quietly. “And when this is all over, I’ll come back and put it on your ring finger.”
Thongthai’s heart stuttered. Normally he would have laughed, or maybe smacked Khem on the arm. The man was always so open with his love, professing his love for Thongthai to anyone who would listen, and to many who wouldn’t, too. Even though Thongthai struggled with saying it back, it never deterred Khem; when Thongthai had explained to Khem all those years ago that he found it difficult to say the words, Khem had smiled brightly, declaring how “it just means I’ll have to say it twice as many times for the both of us!”
But this time… this time seemed different. Maybe it was the way Khem had spoken with such earnestness, or maybe it was because of seeing how Tharn and Phaya were so openly in love. But no matter the reason, Thongthai was surprised to find that he actually wanted Khem’s words to be true.
“Aren’t you supposed to ask me first? You seem to be certain I’ll say yes.”
Thongthai tried to make his words as sharp as usual, but softness crept into his tone regardless.
Khem grinned, his mischievous eyes back in full force.
“You wound me with the strength of your love,” he teased. “But don’t worry, when this is over I’ll plan a proposal so elaborate that even Tharn and Phaya are jealous.”
Thongthai laughed.
“I’d like to see you try.”
“Oh, you’ve done it now. Nobody challenges me and gets away with it!”
Khem ruffled Thongthai’s hair, and the man ducked away, grinning.
“I hope you know if you don’t have a fully choreographed musical number, I’ll be turning you down.”
Thongthai named the first stupid gimmick he could think of. “Also peacocks. I want peacocks.”
“For you my darling, I’d put on a whole musical.”
Khem’s tone was soft with affection, but his expression turned more serious as he looked into Thongthai’s eyes. “But please, be safe today. We both know how dangerous Montree is, and I just… don’t want anything happening to you.”
He turned back to the truck before Thongthai could respond, the unspoken you too dying on his lips.
Thinking back to the fight, Thongthai was unsurprised to realize he didn’t remember most of it. He had always been like that, blocking out the irrelevant aspects of fights in favour of remembering the important bits in detail. It was part of what made him so invaluable to the IDF: he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone how he got into a building, but he could recall full conversations that took place while interrogating suspects or taking down criminals. In many ways, that was part of the reason why he worked so well with Khem; the man filled in the blanks to his memory so to speak, and things were less fuzzy around the edges when Khem was nearby.
From what Thongthai could remember, the fight with Montree’s men had lasted an incredibly long time. They had found their way to the warehouse with surprisingly little difficulty given how dense the trees were, and the few men they had stumbled upon had been dealt with quickly and efficiently.
The real fight had begun once they had entered a clearing, and Thongthai’s instincts had screamed that something was wrong.
“Khem, get down!” he yelled at the man, who had stepped into the clearing first.
Luckily, Khem’s reflexes were swift, and he hit the ground as a spray of gunfire erupted over where he once stood. A dozen of Montree’s men had made themselves known, shouting to each other as they fired on the IDF.
Khem had taken shelter behind a tree, firing at anyone who got too close to him. The rest of the group covered him, inching closer to Montree’s men while keeping themselves as sheltered as possible.
While Montree’s men lacked protective gear, they made up for it by sheer number. Every time Thongthai thought there would be a lull in the fight, more men would appear, only to be shot down by one of the IDF. Finally, he reached the tree Khem was sheltering behind.
“You okay?” he shouted at Khem above the gunfire.
Khem nodded, gesturing to his machine gun.
“Almost out of bullets,” he shouted back. “I’ll have to swap to my handgun soon.”
Thongthai had a spare magazine, and he tossed it to Khem, covering him as he reloaded.
The two fought side by side for a while, using the bushes nearby as cover as they slowly made their way towards Montree’s warehouse. The rest of the IDF had vanished; Yai had appeared midway through the fight, and Thongthai was relieved to see Tharn and Phaya were with him, looking unharmed. They drove the remainder of Montree’s men into the warehouse, with the inspector yelling to Thongthai and Khem to secure the outside of the building.
And this was what the two of them did best: working in harmony, barely needing to communicate with how well they knew each others’ strengths and weaknesses. Khem took the front, shooting at anyone that moved, while Thongthai covered his back, making sure nobody could sneak up on them.
They had nearly finished their route around the building when they were confronted by a small ambush. Several of Montree’s men had been hiding behind some abandoned vehicles, and they swung their machetes wildly, their erraticism making them difficult targets. Khem swore softly as his machine gun finally ran out of bullets; he swapped to his handgun quickly, trusting Thongthai to cover him.
“You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we should go on more dates,” Khem said lightly, deftly shooting one of the men who tried to get close to them. “Next time, can we just get coffee or something?”
“Only if you’re buying,” Thongthai retorted, sheltering behind a pile of tires. His machine gun had also run out of bullets, and he was having trouble dislodging his handgun from its holster.
Khem crowed in triumph.
“Finally! I knew you’d say yes one day. I can—”
He stopped mid sentence as he saw the man taking advantage of Thongthai’s momentary struggle, cursing when his gun was once again out of bullets. Thongthai looked up to see Khem crouched in front of him protectively, and he looked at him in confusion.
“Khem, what—”
A loud gunshot interrupted him, and Thongthai watched in horror as Khem’s whole body shook with the impact.
“KHEM!” he yelled, his composure falling to pieces. He wrenched his gun from the holster and shot blindly at the man in front of them, hardly caring when he heard it hit its mark. All his attention was on Khem, who had collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. Thongthai reached for him and blanched when his hands came away bloody.
“Khem!” he yelled again, his panic only increasing when the man didn’t respond. Thongthai turned Khem over, looking with horror at the bullet wound that had so barely missed Khem’s vest, burrowing itself in his right shoulder blade.
Thongthai fumbled for his earpiece, on high alert for anyone else who might be coming to attack them.
“Inspector, Khem has been shot. Requesting permission to call for medical assistance.”
He was vaguely aware he was crying, but he brushed his tears away impatiently. There would be plenty of time for emotions later; right now, he had to make sure Khem remained safe.
“Granted.”
The inspector’s voice was staticky in Thongthai’s ear. “Call for multiple ambulances; Chart has been shot as well.”
“Understood,” Thongthai responded, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
The paramedics told Thongthai they would be there within the hour, which did nothing to decrease his anxiety. So, he did the only thing he could do in this situation: he kept pressure on Khem’s shoulder, apologizing quietly when the man made a small sound of protest.
“You’re going to be fine,” he told Khem multiple times, but each time he said it, he believed it less and less. The blood loss was showing no sign of slowing, and Khem had gotten colder as time went on.
As they waited, Thongthai told Khem stories about growing up, and how he had truly felt that day at the university after Khem had shoved him unceremoniously into the pool. How Khem’s terrible English wasn’t embarrassing like Thongthai always pretended; it was actually one of Thongthai’s favourite things, and he was always envious of how carefree Khem was. How Thongthai only truly felt like himself when Khem was by his side. The stories all blurred together, but they all had the same meaning to Thongthai: how much he loved Khem, and how terrified he was that he’d never have the chance to tell him.
Staring out the window in the hospital room, Thongthai was lost in thought. He knew he was in deep trouble with the inspector; he had disobeyed a direct order, refusing to go back to headquarters when he was told to. The rational part of him knew he should have listened, should have gone back to headquarters and debriefed with the rest of the IDF. But the irrational part of him couldn’t bring himself to care; not when that meant leaving before knowing Khem was going to be okay.
“Thongthai?”
Khem’s voice was soft with sleep.
He turned away from the window, not bothering to hide the relief he felt as Khem blinked blearily at him from the hospital bed.
“Where am I?” Khem asked, wincing as he tried to move. Thongthai quickly went to him, helping him adjust the pillows so he could be upright. When he was done, he sat on the bed beside Khem.
“You’re in the hospital. We brought you here after you got shot.”
Thongthai broke off mid-sentence, his brain filling in the rest of the sentence. After you got shot instead of me. The thought had been plaguing at him the whole time Khem had been in surgery, and even though Thongthai logically knew Khem would be fine, he still felt a flicker of anger.
Khem nodded at him, cautiously flexing his shoulder.
“Ow,” he said reasonably. “Although it could have been worse; he could have shot me in the knee or something, and then how fu—”
“Why did you do it?”
Khem blinked, confused.
“Do what?”
“Take the bullet for me? I had a vest on, I would have been fine. Why would you step in front of me?”
Thongthai’s voice shook slightly.
Khem frowned, trying to remember what had happened.
“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I saw someone coming towards you with a gun, and you were distracted, and I guess it was just instinctual to protect you.”
Thongthai’s body tensed.
“And what if you hadn’t been wearing a vest? And if he had aimed for your heart? What if he had killed you? Then what would I have done?”
“Ah, he’d never have killed me, I’m unstoppable,” Khem said in a wise tone.
“Although,” he added. “If he had succeeded, it would have been a good way to die, in the place of someone I love.”
“I couldn’t—” Thongthai forgot to be angry for a second as Khem’s words processed. “Did you just quote Twilight at me?”
“I KNEW you read them!” Khem exclaimed, wincing as his shoulder protested against large emotions. “Finally, one of my recommendations got through to you.”
He gave Thongthai a dopey grin.
Thongthai snorted dryly, deciding against mentioning how he had read every trashy romance novel Khem had ever recommended him. At least Thongthai had his answer now: if Khem was back to making Twilight references, he was going to be fine.
But that didn’t completely ease the knot in his chest, thinking back to how still Khem’s body had been in the ambulance.
“Where’s everyone else?” Khem asked, pulling Thongthai out of his thoughts. “Is everyone safe?”
He sounded worried; as always, he thought of others before himself.
“Everyone’s back at headquarters, debriefing with the inspector. Montree is in custody, and Chart… he took a bullet to the back. Last I heard he’s still in surgery; they’re not sure if he’s going to make it.”
Khem swore under his breath.
“I know I didn’t like him, but he didn’t deserve that.”
“No, he didn’t,” Thongthai agreed. “But if he makes it, the inspector wants to offer him a spot in the IDF. They’re discussing it at the debrief.”
Khem frowned. “Why aren’t you there too?”
Thongthai was silent for a second.
“Honestly, I don’t even know if I’m part of the IDF anymore.”
“What happened?”
Khem’s voice was a mix of anger and worry.
“I kind of… told the inspector to fuck off?”
Khem let out a surprised laugh. “You did? Oh, I wish I could have been there to see the look on his face. What was his reaction?”
“I’m not sure,” Thongthai confessed. “The ambulance left before he could say anything.”
He could see the wheels turning in Khem’s head, and he mentally prepared himself for his response. Contrary to how he appeared, Khem could be wickedly intelligent, and it didn’t take him long to put two and two together.
“It was because of me, wasn’t it.”
Khem’s voice was flat.
“You disobeyed the inspector, and possibly got yourself dismissed, because of me.”
“I suppose this is the part where you tell me I shouldn’t have done it?” Thongthai retorted. He knew he was being defensive, but he expected Khem of all people to understand his reasoning.
“Of course you shouldn’t have done it!”
Any amusement was gone from Khem’s voice. “I would have been fine; I would have understood that the job came first.”
Anger flickered through Thongthai, and he stood abruptly.
“And how was I supposed to take that risk?” he demanded to Khem, who stared at him in shock at his outburst. “If there was even a small possibility that you’d not be okay, why the hell would I have taken that chance? Put yourself in my shoes for a second: if it had been me lying there, dying, would you have agreed to spend hours in an interview room before making sure I was okay? I know you; nothing would keep you from the person you love, especially when they’re in danger. And I feel the same way about you.”
He was vaguely aware he was breathing erratically, his brain constantly sending him back to seeing Khem lying on the ground. He blinked hard, trying to clear his head.
“Thongthai, baby.”
Khem tried to get up, but his shoulder stopped him, and he leaned back into the pillows. “Can you come back here, please? Sit beside me, and tell me what’s going on in your head.”
Thongthai obliged, his legs feeling like jelly as he sat back on the bed. Khem reached for his hand, lightly kissing his knuckles.
“Even if I tried to deny it, you know me too well,” Khem murmured, and Thongthai clung to Khem’s words as he spoke. “I would have done the same thing; you’re absolutely right. I’m sorry I got upset. The important thing is that you’re safe.”
Thongthai tried to respond, but Khem wasn’t finished.
“I love you for being able to tell me what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t help either of us if we focus on the what-ifs. I’m going to be okay, and you’re going to be okay, and we’ll get through everything together.”
Khem lightly caressed Thongthai’s face, and Thongthai sighed, his heart rate returning to a normal speed.
“I see you every time I close my eyes,” he whispered. “I see you lying there, and there’s nothing I can do to help you.”
“But you did help me,” Khem insisted. “You stayed with me, and I got to hear even more stories about the man I’m so deeply in love with. You kept me alive, in every sense of the word.”
Thongthai cringed. “You remember that?”
Khem smiled lovingly. “My baby listing all the reasons he’s in love with me? It would take a lot more than a gunshot to make me forget that.”
“I meant every word,” Thongthai said quietly. “I know I’m not good at expressing how I feel most of the time, but almost losing you really made me think about how many things I’ve kept buried inside myself. So I hope you’ll believe me when I say with my whole heart how much I love you.”
Khem’s smile was blinding. “I love you too, as you already know, but I’ll never get sick of saying it. Which reminds me… can I get that necklace back?”
Thongthai reached for the clasp around his neck, dropping the necklace into Khem’s outstretched palm.
“Now,” Khem began, clearing his throat. “I know I promised you a musical number… well, I suppose I could sing this if it made you feel better—”
“Absolutely not,” Thongthai interrupted, laughing.
“As my baby commands,” Khem mock saluted. “Well, with or without the musical number, I’ve told you how unreasonably in love with you I am. You make me smile when I wake up in the morning, and you’re the last thing I think about at night. I’ve spent so much of my life loving you that I would be completely lost without you, which is something I never want to experience. I’ve figured out exactly what I want out of my life, and it’s the life that we’re living right now, beside each other. And so, just like I promised you, I’m asking you to marry me. It doesn’t have to be soon, but knowing that one day I’ll be able to call you my husband is enough to keep me happy for a million lifetimes. And the wedding can have as many peacocks as you’d like,” he added as an afterthought.
Thongthai beamed at Khem.
“I’ve never had the words to explain how I feel, but I promise I’ll show you in every way I can how sincere my feelings are. I would be honoured to be your husband one day, with or without the peacocks.”
Khem slipped the ring onto Thongthai’s finger, and it fit perfectly.
“I may or may not have asked Singh to hack into the IDF database for your ring size,” Khem admitted.
“You’re shameless.” Thongthai kissed Khem’s nose.
“I’m in love,” Khem retorted softly, pulling Thongthai in for a proper kiss.