“The SIP”

Chapter Two — The First Sip

Yay woke to the warmth of another body pressed against his.

Morning light slipped through the blinds, painting pale gold lines across the bedroom wall.

Zain's arm was wrapped around his waist.

It was familiar.

Comforting.

Safe.

The kind of warmth Yay had known for years.

Zain shifted behind him and pulled him closer.

"Stay a little longer," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

Yay smiled.

He turned in Zain's arms until they were facing each other.

Their foreheads touched.

It was one of their oldest rituals.

A small thing.

But somehow, after four years, it still made Yay feel at home.

Zain's fingers brushed gently across his cheek.

"You're thinking again."

Yay smiled.

"I'm always thinking."

"Then stop."

"How?"

Zain's mouth curved into a playful smile.

"I'll find a way."

He kissed him.

Slowly.

Familiar warmth spread through Yay, and for a moment, there was nothing else.

No work.

No deadlines.

No crowded bar.

No mysterious stranger.

Just Zain.

Just them.

Yay relaxed into the kiss, remembering why this had always felt so easy.

Zain knew him.

He knew when Yay was tired, when he was anxious, when he was pretending everything was fine.

He knew the little things.

The way Yay liked his tea.

The side of the bed he preferred.

The songs that made him nostalgic.

The expression he made when he was trying not to laugh.

Zain knew him.

And yet—

A thought slipped through.

A pair of dark eyes.

A quiet voice.

A knowing smile.

Xan.

Yay's eyes opened.

He pulled back slightly.

Zain noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Zain studied him.

"You sure?"

Yay nodded.

"Yeah."

It was a lie.

Not a serious one.

Not yet.

But it was the first lie of the day.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, Yay wondered why a man he'd met only once had managed to enter a place in his thoughts that he didn't understand himself.

Zain kissed his forehead.

"Come back to bed."

Yay smiled faintly.

"I can't. I have work."

"Five more minutes."

"Five."

Zain pulled him closer.

Yay closed his eyes.

He tried to let the familiar comfort settle over him.

But the memory remained.

Not because Xan had done anything.

Not really.

It was just a conversation.

A few questions.

A strange smile.

Nothing more.

At least, that's what Yay told himself.

---

By late afternoon, Yay arrived at the café where his latest assignment was being handled.

He expected an ordinary workday.

It wasn't.

The moment he stepped inside, he saw Xan.

He was standing near the counter, one hand resting casually against the edge, speaking to someone from the production team.

Yay stopped.

Only for a second.

Xan turned.

Their eyes met.

Something inside Yay tightened.

Xan's expression changed almost imperceptibly.

Recognition.

Then amusement.

"Yay."

The way he said his name made Yay strangely aware of himself.

"Xan."

"I was wondering when I'd see you again."

Yay adjusted the strap of his bag.

"We spoke yesterday."

"I remember."

There was something about the way Xan said it that made the simple words feel heavier than they should have.

Yay looked away first.

"I have work."

"So do I."

Xan moved aside.

Yay walked past him.

Their shoulders nearly touched.

Nearly.

But even that small distance felt charged.

Yay hated that he noticed.

---

The workday continued.

At least, it was supposed to.

Yay tried to concentrate.

He checked equipment.

Reviewed notes.

Answered emails.

Updated schedules.

But every now and then, he became aware of Xan watching him.

Not constantly.

That would have been easier to dismiss.

Instead, it happened in moments.

When Yay looked up.

When he turned around.

When he reached for something.

And every time, Xan was already looking.

Eventually, Yay couldn't ignore it.

"What?"

Xan raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"You're staring."

"Am I?"

"Yes."

Xan smiled.

"Maybe you're just noticing."

Yay shook his head.

"You're strange."

"I've been called worse."

Before Yay could answer, Xan walked away.

A few minutes later, he returned carrying an iced coffee.

He held it out.

"You look tired."

Yay stared at the cup.

"I didn't ask for anything."

"I know."

"Then why did you get it?"

Xan shrugged.

"You looked like you needed one."

Yay hesitated.

He should have refused.

Instead, he took it.

"Thanks."

Their fingers touched.

It lasted less than a second.

Yet Yay felt it.

A tiny spark.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing he could explain.

But enough to make him pull his hand back.

Xan noticed.

Of course he did.

He always seemed to notice.

"You don't have to be nervous around me."

"I'm not nervous."

"Good."

Xan smiled.

"Then you won't mind a question."

Yay sighed.

"What?"

"How long have you been with Zain?"

Yay looked at him.

"Why are you asking?"

"Curiosity."

"Four years."

Xan nodded.

"That's a long time."

"It is."

"You must know each other very well."

"We do."

Xan looked at him for a moment.

"And you're happy?"

The question caught Yay off guard.

"Yes."

He answered quickly.

Too quickly.

Xan didn't challenge him.

He simply nodded.

"I'm glad."

Something about his response bothered Yay.

"Why?"

Xan's eyes held his.

"Because it would be unfortunate if you weren't."

Yay frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

Xan turned away.

Yay watched him.

For some reason, the unanswered question stayed with him.

---

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly.

When work finally ended, Yay packed his things.

He checked his phone.

Three messages from Zain.

Are you coming home soon?

Then:

I made dinner.

And finally:

Don't make me eat without you. 😂

Yay smiled.

The feeling was immediate.

Warm.

Familiar.

He typed back.

I'm coming. Give me twenty minutes.

He slipped the phone into his pocket.

"Going home?"

Xan's voice came from behind him.

Yay turned.

"Yeah."

"Good."

Xan stepped closer.

"You should go."

Yay nodded.

He took a step toward the exit.

Then stopped.

He wasn't sure why.

Maybe it was the question.

Maybe it was the way Xan had looked at him all afternoon.

Maybe it was simply curiosity.

He turned back.

"Why do you keep asking about Zain?"

For once, Xan didn't answer immediately.

He studied Yay.

Then his expression softened.

"I'm trying to understand you."

Yay frowned.

"Why?"

Xan smiled faintly.

"Because you're not as simple as you think you are."

Yay felt something twist in his chest.

"Neither are you."

Xan's smile widened.

"Now you're learning."

Yay should have left.

Instead, he stood there for another second.

Then another.

Finally, he turned and walked away.

He didn't look back.

Not until he reached the door.

And when he did—

Xan was still watching him.

Their eyes met across the room.

This time, neither of them looked away immediately.

Yay finally stepped outside.

The evening air was cooler than he expected.

He took a deep breath.

Then another.

His heart was beating faster than it should have been.

He told himself it was because he was tired.

Because work had been stressful.

Because Xan was strange.

Because—

Anything.

Anything except the truth.

His phone buzzed.

Zain: Where are you?

Yay looked at the message.

Then at the café behind him.

He could still see Xan through the window.

For one brief moment, Yay considered going back inside.

He didn't.

He put his phone away and started walking home.

But halfway down the street, he stopped.

He looked back.

The café door was still open.

Xan was gone.

Yay exhaled.

He should have felt relieved.

Instead, he felt disappointed.

And that frightened him more than anything else.

He turned toward home.

He didn't know it yet, but something had changed.

Not between him and Zain.

Not completely.

Not yet.

It was smaller than that.

A thought.

A curiosity.

A door he hadn't meant to open.

And somewhere behind him, in the café, Xan returned to his seat.

The Sip sat untouched on the table.

He looked toward the window.

Then he smiled.

Yay had walked away.

But he'd looked back.

Once.

That was enough.

---