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Four times Bright falls asleep on set, and the one time Win falls asleep with him.
It’s hard to concentrate around Bright sometimes. Something about the intensity of his stare as though he is Sarawat at all times. Sure, he shrugs his character off to play a friendly game of football between takes when he can, but often he’s in intense mode - staring at his script, staring into the distance, staring at Win.
Win talked with him about it early on, and Bright had simply stared at him for a long moment (ironic) before he had said, “It’s called acting, Win Metawin,” then ruffled his hair softly, fingers lingering for a few long seconds, before he jumped up to head to the make-up artist for a quick touch up. So Win had tried to forget it too.
But now, staring at Bright. Watching as he nestles his long body into the small space of the sofa on which he is currently sleeping, Win can slide the intensity of Bright to one side. Even in slumber, his lips form a perfect cupid’s bow. HIs hair makes soft waves over his tanned forehead. And his eyes are scrunched, small crinkles marring the smoothness of his skin. He still looks beautiful, just younger. Like a babe searching for comfort in it’s mother’s arms.
He looks so effortlessly innocent that Win can’t help but snap a picture. It;s so perfect it doesn’t even need a filter as he uploads it to his Instagram, tagging Bright with the caption, ‘Sleeping Beauty’.
It’s only seconds before the first likes flood in. And then he’s inundated - heart after heart popping up on the screen. He scans the first comments, and then wishes he hadn’t. They’re too intense for him to take.
So he deletes it. And hopes Bright never knows.
Of course, he does. Screenshot wasn’t invented for the stupid after all. The picture is littered over IG and Twitter, Win’s caption boldly marked for all to see.
For Bright to see. And to nudge him and ask if he’s really all that beautiful when he’s drooling.
And Win just stares at him.
Then he messes with the filters and adds some effects and posts the same picture again.
“Mr Grouchy”
Bright’s reply is the only one he cares about: “From Beauty to Grouchy? But all I did was fall asleep… next time be kinder!”
Win grins and locks his phone and heads to set for their first kiss. He smacks at some spicy cinnamon gum on the way, eager to get back at his co-star for his comment.
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Bright is sick. He’s looking so green that he’s about five inches deep in foundation and he still doesn’t look right under the lights.
Win’s been watching him from afar, not wanting to interfere when so many people are clustered around him. But he’s still watching. He can’t help it.
When he’s called away for a scene, his chest heaves with discomfort and he chances a final glance towards his co-star… no, towards his friend… and is met with heavy eyes and a quirk of his lips.
He nods in reply and hurries off to film with the boys. He’ll check in on Bright later.
They nail the scene in three quick takes and celebrate with high-fives and an invitation to lunch. But Win excuses himself, he has to see for himself if Bright is okay.
When he finds him, curled up on set in Tine’s bed, Win’s heart thuds painfully and he takes a long moment to glance over him. He looks okay. Exhausted of course, and still a little pale. But not the green faced mess he was before.
Win steps forward and can’t help but tuck the covers around him a little higher, fingers grazing over the older man’s forehead, pleased when he doesn’t feel a fever.
But as he turns to leave, a soft hand catches his wrist and Bright murmurs, “Can you just...just stay?”
Win stares down at him, eyes tracing the soft features for a long moment, and then he nods his head, hoping Bright understands even though his eyes are still scrunched against the light.
The warm fingers pull gently and he ends up sitting in the curve of Bright’s torso, hand automatically resting on the pillow behind Bright’s head. In this position, he is leant down towards the other man, and he feels as though he is a protector, guarding him away from the world. He stays there as Bright slowly falls asleep, the hand on his wrist loosening until he is released.
And even after the fingers let go, he still sits quietly and watches over him.
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Win learns his lesson the hard way. Never wake a sleeping Bright who has been working flat out since 6am the day before.
It’s almost 2am and they are still trying to finish the scenes in Sarawat’s apartment after the fight. They’ve been battling against bad lighting and crackling sound and it’s a repeated loop of ‘Try again guys….no, stop, there’s a problem with…”
Win cannot count the number of takes they’ve tried to complete, but through it all, Bright’s been positive, keeping them both going. Whispering stupid things to Win, making him crack a smile between filming attempts; telling him that he’s lucky this is the first time they’ve had a day like this; telling him they’ll definitely get to sleep in in the morning because no-one will want to see their grumpy asses, breaking script and asking him to Marry him! And Win’s lapped up his energy!
But now Bright’s out of steam and his face has settled into a far away nothingness and his body has slumped down and he is just projecting pissed off.
So when he slumps onto Sarawat’s sofa, no-one stops him. He curls his long legs into his chest and immediately closes his eyes, soft snores starting straight away.
Win watches him for a moment, watches his chest heave with every breath and wonders if he should try sleeping in the bed, maybe get some rest too.
But before he even gets a chance to wander towards it, Champ is speaking up, asking them to get in position, protesting that it will be fine this time. There’s no issue now.
Win prepares himself, reciting his lines quickly to himself as he waits for someone to wake Bright up.
But no-one moves.
In fact, it seems like they are all collectively inching away from the sofa.
Suddenly, Win, who is almost half-way across the room, is the nearest to where Bright is resting.
How did that happen? He thinks, gazing over at the continuity guys and the camera operators who glance at him and then look away pointedly.
“Wake Bright up,” Champ says, in general, to the whole room.
But no-one moves, except for their eyes. Which all turn to him.
Win stares around him, surprised at some of the expressions on the faces of the cast and crew he has been working with for months.
“Never wake a sleeping Bright,” A voice whispers across the crowd, stirring up a whole host of nods from the assembled group.
Win looks at the person closest to him, P’Aof, and asks, “What’s wrong? Why’s everyone scared to wake him up?”
P’Aof just gives him a look of disbelief as P’Arm explains, “He’s terrible when you wake him up. He’s so disorientated and he is vicious!”
Win stares at him. “Are you kidding?” He asks, “He’s never bitten my head off when I’ve woken him before.”
Both men just widen their eyes, and then Aof pushes his shoulder and announces that Win will be waking the dragon.
The behind the scenes crew perk up, and a camera is shoved in his face as he looks around again. He’s practically the youngest there and they are all acting like little babies!
“Fine,” he huffs, not bothering to lower his voice as he steps with purpose towards the sofa.
But his firm expression flickers as he sees the soft features nuzzling the pillow his own head was on several hours ago. He doesn’t want to interrupt his slumber. Not when the other looks so relaxed for the first time in a whole day. Instead, Win wants to tuck the covers up tighter against Bright’s chin, or maybe sit beside him like the day when he was sick.
But, the camera crew have followed him, so he decides he should make this a show for the fans, turning resolutely to announce, “No-one dares to wake the sleeping Sarawat. His legendary grumps scare even the oldest man amongst us!”
Then he turns to look down at the sleeper once more and decides he will just nudge him awake.
His hand doesn’t shake as he reaches for Bright’s arm. It doesn’t.
Okay, it does. But not because he’s scared. It’s just nervous energy after so many hours without a rest
As it clamps down on his shoulder, there is a moment when it seems like everything will be fine. The soft snores stop, the breathing quickens and Bright’s eyes scrunch up.
For a second, Win feels peace flow through him.
And then, “What the hell? I’m sleeping!”
The whole room takes a collective breath as Bright rises from the nest he’s made, shrugging Win’s hand from his shoulder.
Win can’t help the fearful look his features take on, nor can he stop his flinch.
And then the room erupts in laughter, and Bright’s hand is clutching Win’s arm and he’s pressing his chin into Win’s neck and whispering, “I’m sorry. It was a joke.”
It takes Win’s heart a little time to settle down. And then Bright’s cool hands are on his face as they film again and he’s lost in Tine and Sarawat’s love story and he tries to put Bright and Win’s friendship to the back of his mind.
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Tine is watching Sarawat sleep. Win is watching Bright sleep. It’s the same scene, Win thinks as he watches the other actor who is slumped in the hospital chair.
He knows that Bright is truly asleep because his legs are twitching. Every take, his leg gives him away and they have to reset. But Bright is exhausted. He sleeps through it all.
A fist clenches at Win’s heart as he watches his friend. He gives so much to his role, the intensity of his emotions. No wonder he’s tired. He deserves to rest. But Win knows it’s only a matter of a few seconds before Bright will be woken up so that he doesn’t spoil every take.
“Tong garn pai hong naam krab,” Win hears himself say as he shuffles away from the set at a wave of the director’s hand.
He doesn’t actually need the bathroom, he just thinks that Bright looks too tired. The other man clearly needs to rest.
He spends at least five minutes washing his hands and checking his IG, before he saunters back onto set, eyeing the natural rise and fall of Bright’s chest as he takes up his position once more.
When he has to wake Bright up, he doesn’t feel so guilty. He just looks at him as Tine would and slips the jacket higher up his neck, smiling as Bright snuggles down further into the chair.
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Saturday. They are working flat out again, trying to wrap up filming before everything goes insane and the film crew can’t be within 2m of each other. They all know it’s coming, they’ve seen what’s happening in the rest of Asia and it’s going to be a catastrophe since the series is already airing.
So they power through. Nail every take as much as they can and try their best to stay alert and lively.
It’s not a surprise that Bright sneaks away when the break is called. The surprise is that Win follows.
It’s not really intentional. He just accepts that Bright knows the best spot for a nap, even though they are on location and have only been here for, he checks his phone, nine hours.
When he finds himself in the dormitory, Bright is already spreading out the bed roll and plumping up a pillow. He looks up, eyes flashing at being caught. But when he realises that it’s just Win, his expressions softens and he indicates the bed roll.
“Want to try for a nap?” He asks, voice heavy with exhaustion.
Win nods and heads over to the roll next to Bright, smoothing out the sheet and punching the pillow with satisfaction.
Bright unbuttons his shirt and slides it from his shoulders, revealing an expanse of bronzed skin that Win can’t force his heavy eyes away from. “More comfortable,” he whispers, “It’s bloody hot,”
Win stifles a giggle and then slides out of his own t-shirt and folds it by his side.
When Bright shucks off his trousers, he has to look away, cheeks heating up even though he’s seen him like this before.
Bright laughs, voice lighting up the murky space, “Nothing you haven’t seen,” he says, smiling.
Then he dumps his trousers on the concrete and drops down on the mat, snuggling into the pillow, eyes on Win’s face.
“Let’s sleep, Win Metawin,” he says, uncurling his fingers, an unspoken offer.
Win takes three beats to reply, and then he slides off his trousers, adding them neatly to the shirt beside him and scoots his mat closer to Bright.
Bright’s eye trace every movement, stripping away layers of Win’s thoughts, “Stop thinking so hard, Win,” he sighs, “You’re exhausting sometimes.”
“Am I the reason you need all these naps?” Win asks, voice a little shy, a little playful.
“Right now, you’re the reason I’m not napping,” Bright huffs out and then he stretches his hand and tugs on Win’s wrist and settles him down in front of him, warm arms curling over his torso, holding him close like the times they filmed on the sofa.
Win lets Bright move him until he is satisfied and then feels Bright’s face settle between his shoulder blades and his soft breath dance over his skin.
It’s a brief amount of time before he succumbs to sleep.
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The photo appears in his inbox, Drake’s smiling face grinning at him from the icon. At first it makes him blush to see himself so content in Bright’s arms.
But then, he just accepts it.
He sleeps better when Bright’s by his side.
And from the smile on Bright’s face, so does he.