The Taste Of Rejection

[Adrian's POV]

"You look bombed," Johan said, turning his gaze away from him. He reloaded his slingshot with another steel ball and looked around to target another fruit. "Can you still go to the hospital looking like that?"

"I didn't drink much," Adrian answered despite the buzz in his head. The dismissive gesture brought a stinging sensation in his chest. Was he disappointed? Was he mad? Adrian didn't know. "Sorry, Han."

Johan paused from aiming and frowned. He put down his arms. "What are you sorry for? I'm not mad that you're drinking if that's what you think."

"You don't care at all?" The question came out wrong. Sighing, Adrian brought the back of his wrist over his eyes, his other hand clenching at the mango he's holding. "I-I mean... You're not worried? You're not... Sorry... It's..."

"Of course I'm worried."

"You are?"

"Yeah. I'm worried that the nurses might kick you out of the ICU if you're too intoxicated to be with your brother." Johan raised his arms again and pulled the elastic band up to his cheek. After locking his eyes to his target, he let go. 

Five mangoes fell on the wild grass below with a thud. 

"What if you trip and accidentally unplug a patient's life support?" Johan hooked the slingshot around his neck. "You'll become a murderer just because you're dumb-drunk."

Adrian couldn't help but give a soft chuckle at Johan's reasoning. It's not what he wanted to hear, but that's just so... him. "Right."

Johan glared and crouched to pick up the fruits. "What's so funny, Jerk? I'm being serious. Can't you see the irony if that happened? You became a criminal for looking after a police officer—lend me a hand, will you?"

With a resigned smile, Adrian hunched down, picking two mangoes. Johan kept explaining why he's worried as they trudged back to the nipa house, passing by the hammock until they reached the water pump to get rid of the sticky sap coating their fingers.

"And what if you fell on the mud again because you can't walk straight? What if—"

Adrian grabbed Johan's face and connected their lips to shut him up. As much as he loved hearing him talk, it's frustrating to hear the thousand logical reasons why he's worried when all he needed was to know he cared.

Johan dropped the mangoes on the ground, his wet hands resting over Adrian's chest. When he deepened the kiss, Johan pushed him away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Someone might see us," Johan said, fingers raking his dark fringe. "Let's do that later, Adrian."

The rejection stabbed him in the heart like an ice-cold knife. Adrian turned his head to the side and watched the subtle sway of the hammock, remembering how intimate they were just a few hours ago. "You didn't have any problem about it earlier."

"That was earlier." Johan picked up the fallen mangoes and dropped them in the bucket. "You have company inside the shack other than Kristoff. What if they're not okay with... this?"

Adrian wiped the ghost of Johan's icy touch on his chest. He gulped, and the acrid taste of rum burned his throat. "I don't care what they say, Han."

"And I don't want to cause trouble."

"Why would there be trouble?" Adrian asked, watching as Johan put the raw fruits on a water-dipper. "And even if there is, I'll protect you. I'd fight anyone who would dare to touch you, Han."

"I don't need your protection, Adrian." Johan inserted a hand to his pocket, pulling out a red swiss army knife, and started peeling one raw mango. 

Adrian knitted his eyebrows together, bewildered. "Where did you even get that?"

"What do you mean?" Johan's innocent eyes flickered at him, his swift hand not stopping until he peeled off the green skin. "You mean the army knife? I've had them for years."

"It's my first time seeing it."

"I've always kept it in my bag's inside pocket. It's not like I can just flaunt it around like a trophy." Johan hummed in delight, face scrunching as he chewed a slice of the sour fruit. He stood and put the army knife back to his pocket. "Stop drinking, Adrian. We're leaving before six."

"Where are you going, Han?" he asked.

"I need salt. Or fish sauce. I've been really craving mangoes. I'll finish this up before we leave."

Adrian's fingers twitched as he watched Johan's retreating form with blurred vision. He didn't even glance back if he'd follow. Johan just left him standing across the water pump, feeling cold. 

Alone. 

Rejected. 

Adrian rubbed his face as emotions swirled inside him along with the spirit of alcohol. He walked back to the nipa hut and slumped down on the bamboo bench.

Kristoff's friends already left, vacating the place with trash. Adrian fished a packet of cigarettes and lighted it with a matchstick. Through the mess on top of the table, the half-empty bottle of brandy enticed him to drink a little more.

'I don't need your protection, Adrian.'

Johan's voice rang in his head like an echo inside a dark cave. The more he learned about Johan, the less he understood what kind of person he was. Johan's like an onion with so many layers. He can do a lot of things. What else can he do? Slit people's throat with a swiss knife?

"He doesn't need me," Adrian said through the silence. His shoulders slumped, feeling unworthy as the realization dawned on him like a bucket of freezing water. "He doesn't need me like I do."

Grasping the neck of the bottle, Adrian threw his head back and gulped a mouthful of the bitter liquid. He propped one leg on the small table, and the empty bottles on top rattled.

"Adrian?" Johan's head peeked through the opened door, eyeing the inside of the house before he settled on him. "They already left?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Holding a plastic bowl in one hand and his precious mangoes on the other, Johan entered and sat next to him. "I told you to stop drinking."

Adrian shrugged and put the bottle back on top of the table. "I'm not drunk, Han. It would take more than these to knock me out."

"'kay."

So dismissive. Adrian puffed the smoke in the air, chest constricting with contempt. He side-eyed Johan, who was still munching on a strip of his sour snack.

"You're mad, aren't you?" Johan shouldered him without meeting his eyes. The skin contact made him want to wrap his arm around him, but he feared he'll get another rejection. Once was hurtful enough. Twice would be overkill.

"No," he answered and reach for the bottle, but Johan grabbed it before he did. Adrian sighed. "Han, give it back."

"Would you like me to leave? If you really want to get drunk, I'll give it back and fuck off." 

"If that's what you want."

"'kay. Go drown yourself with it." Johan handed back the bottle of brandy and stood. "I'm going back to Subic tonight. Diego just called."

It only took one step and Adrian already felt his gut shredding into pieces. The bottle slipped from his grasp. Before he could stop himself, his hand shot out to grab Johan's shirt and pulled him back to his lap, burying his face to his nape. 

"Han," he sobbed. The burning stick of cigarette between his fingers fell on the ground. Adrian caged the slender waist with both arms. "Don't go, Han. Please don't go."

"What do you mean don't go? I have work tomorrow. Have you called Diego yet to extend your leave?"

Adrian shook his head. His nose dug at Johan's shoulder, inhaling his scent. He needed this warmth by his side. But no matter how close he pressed Johan to his body, he could feel him slipping away.

"You're like a big clingy bear."

Because he has nothing to hold on to. After Johan's indirect refusal to date for real and just stay as—fuck, he didn't even know what to call them—friends with benefits? 

'You can use me for as long as you want until you're ready to let go and settle with her.'

'That's what I can only offer.'

Adrian felt his world turned upside down. It's as if Johan already accepted they'll never be more than what they were, that they'll eventually part ways, whether he liked it or not.

"What do you want me to do, Han? Hmm?" Adrian ran the pad of both his palms at each side of Johan's waist. "Tell me what you want to do. I'd do it."

Johan dipped a mango slice in a bowl of salt and popped it in his mouth. "Call Diego tomorrow and ask him to extend your leave."

"Okay. I'll do that." His hand fumbled to his pocket, pulling out his smartphone. "What else?"

"I said tomorrow."

"Yes, boss."

"Let me go, Adrian."

His breath hitched at the request. "Nothin' but that, Han."

"No. I mean, you're kinda squeezing me and it's hard to breathe."

"Haaaaan," Adrian slurred and loosened his hold a little, but he didn't let go. He rested his cheek on Johan's shoulder while his head reeled like a weightless potato above his neck. 

"What are you doing, Adrian?"

"Calling Rhia." With a snivel, Adrian tried to find a name on his contacts through his whirling vision. "You wan' me to break up with 'er? I'll break up with 'er."

Johan shifted on his lap, and his warm lips pressed against him, snatching the smartphone from his hand.