Note:
1. If you want me to continue this story, feel free to drop a review/comment. I will even translate it into Vietnamese as well.
2. The ASEAN meetings/conferences that I mention here are not the same as the annual ASEAN Summits: the former are purely the result of my imagination and see the participation of personificated countries while the latter are real and reserved only for the politicians.
3. This fic is set several decades forward in the future.
Enjoy.
.
.
.
Sometimes, when she lay awake in her office after work, she would look out from the window and feel like a bird trapped inside an artificial cage: the world was supposed to be bare, not to be confined and departmentalized by brick walls and charade and lies. Yet, in the modern world, there was no place for nature. Capitalism, materialism and the proliferation of technology were slowly deteriorating the biosphere. Within the political realms, natural and integrated characters were replaced to pave way for feigned niceties and propriety.
But she no longer felt like a captive prisoner that year. Her cage welcomed another prisoner, and together, they pretended that they were truly free.
.
.
.
.
.
.
April 4, 2030.
"Is everyone alright with the resolutions? If no one has anything else to add, then the meeting is adjourned. The next ASEAN meeting will be held in Jakarta, Indonesia this day next month, so please plan your schedule ahead. Thank you for your attendance and contribution."
As soon as Thailand finished his peroration, all countries gathered their papers and started to mingle. The room was soon filled with murmurs and grumblings about the tight schedule, the abundance of problems in the region and the humid weather in Bangkok. It was a hot day in April. Even though the conference room was air-conditioned, the large assemblage of people and countries in the room still rendered it stuffy and unpleasant, making them unable to operate their brains properly.
Vietnam was the only one who stayed in her seat and stared at the printed resolutions as if they were the most interesting things in the world, until someone's low voice found its way into her ears and startled her.
"Hey, Vietnam."
She blinked. Within a few seconds, she promptly scrambled her papers on the desk and put them in her small satchel before turning back and facing the male nation.
"Thailand." She nodded.
He smiled at her in return. Clad in charcoal wool suit jacket and matching trousers, Thailand would have looked clean-cut and well-groomed if not for his unruly hair that always seemed to stick straight out. His easy smile gave expression to his hail-fellow-well-met attitude, which usually made people fond of him.
"Say," He said amicably. "You and Laos are going out for a drink tonight, correct? She invited me to come along and pick a secluded pub for you two. Would you mind if I came along with you?"
Vietnam raised her eyebrows. She did, indeed, have plans for a night out with Laos – one of her few 'friends' in the Asian region – in Bangkok to alleviate her stress. After three days straight of avid participation in discussions with Philippines and Malaysia over the South China Sea (the East Sea, she had insisted on the name), she was too haggard to proceed onto another work. However, she did not expect that Laos would invite Thailand to join their night out as well.
It was not that she had anything against him. Thailand was friendly, high-spirited and politic – one night spent with him could not hurt. Nonetheless, she did not fancy going out with nations with whom she rarely conversed. Thailand was one of them.
"Where is Laos?" Instead of giving him a direct answer, Vietnam looked around the room. "I don't see her anywhere."
"She went back to her hotel as soon as the meeting ended." He said, unblinking. "Mind if I accompany you two?"
She took one second to contemplate. It would be rude to decline him after Laos had taken the trouble to invite him. Though she was not entirely comfortable around the male nation and could hardly understand what had prompted her neighbor to request Thailand to be their companion during their night out, perhaps he could help them pick a place with suitable price and atmosphere.
"Well, sure." Vietnam replied in a perfunctory fashion. "We have not decided on what pub we would go to. Maybe you can suggest a few places for us?"
"Of course." Thailand smiled. "We will meet at eight, right? As soon as I get back to my hotel, I will mail you the location of a pub that might be good for you two."
"Thank you." She nodded. "I have to go; my agents are waiting for me. Have a nice day, Thailand."
"I'm sure we will."
Vietnam did not understand the sudden spark in his eyes, but she eventually chalked it up with his enthusiasm to meet Laos outside the boardroom. After all, their current relationship was known to be somewhat intimate: Laos was the first nation that Thailand would seek in a meeting room for a congenial chat and the last person he would say goodbye to after an ASEAN gathering, even though she used to have a bittersweet history with Thailand as one of his vassal kingdoms.
As she brushed past him and joined her emissaries' conversation, Vietnam wondered if Thailand was sleeping with her western neighbor.
She decided to not delve into the thought. It would not be a surprise if they did. They lived in a world where every single relationship was established out of pure benefits. Sex was one of them.
Turning around to see what Thailand was doing, she blinked when she saw that he was staring at her. When he met her gaze, he turned his head away and made a beeline toward Singapore.
.
.
.
The pub that Thailand chose turned out to be an old-school hostelry residing in Bangkok's riverside area. On the face of it, the hostelry was small, cozy, dimly-lit and graced with dark-coloured, plain-vanilla wallpapers that exuded the typical atmosphere of a frugal place of sorts. A live band was playing a familiar western countryside song on the stage and contributing to the antique setting. As she hummed along with the melody, she cast a glance on her surroundings and searched for Thailand and Laos.
"Hey." Thailand's voice caught her attention. "I'm here."
When their eyes met, Thailand was leaning onto the counter and having a chat with the middle-aged bartender. He wore a plain shirt and a pair of blue jeans that seemed to contrast with his well-groomed look during the conference and match his buoyant attitude. His comfortable apparel made Vietnam somewhat self-conscious, as she had chosen to wear a neat button-down shirt and a job skirt for the night, and she wondered if she appeared overdressed compared to him.
"Vietnam." Thailand greeted her with his trademark smile as she came closer. "This pub's good?"
"Nice choice of place." She inclined her head. "Where is Laos?"
"I just called her. She said that she was sick, ana."
Vietnam's shoulders stiffened. Laos being absent meant that Vietnam would have to stay and have a drink with Thailand alone this evening. They used to be enemies, and these days, they almost never talked to each other – no mutual issues, no border conflicts, no potential benefits. Even in the height of their bilateral relationship, their exchanges rarely went beyond diplomatic discourses and a few polite, perfunctory words outside the boardroom. With her stilted way of interaction, they would probably be immersed in an awkward silence after half an hour of conversation.
Even so, she went to sit beside him while Thailand motioned the bartender to make whatever she ordered. This uncomfortable situation was not something she had not faced before. Lucky for her, Thailand was one of those countries that never seemed to run out of things to say: he would in all likelihoods compensate for her lack of topics and enable her to be the quiet, attentive listener.
"I'll have Cabernet Sauvignon, please."
"You don't like sweet wines?" Thailand grinned.
"I prefer sharp flavors to mild ones."
"Cool." Thailand said casually. "So what made you and Laos decide to go out tonight?"
"Too tired to work." She exhaled. "Not for a drink, though."
"Good choice." His fingers toyed around with his drink. "I am fed up by the amount of work too – being a host country is not easy in the least, ana. But let's not talk about work here. How are you enjoying Bangkok so far?"
"It's not the first time I have been here, so I am quite familiar with this city now." She shrugged.
"You have probably been to the Grand Palace and Wat Pho, but what about the National Museum? The old Wang Na Palace? The Lumpini Park?"
Vietnam blinked. "Oh, I haven't. I'm usually busy with work, so I rarely find time to… travel around."
Thailand gave a low chuckle at her answer. His amused expression made Vietnam shift back on her seat and wonder if he was mocking her. The insecurity left her with a sudden awareness that they were having a conversation not as countries, but as ordinary humans.
"Now you make me sound like an irresponsible country, ana. I am busy with my duties too, but I still try to explore the cities where I am assigned to work." He paused and eyed her for a reaction. "It's good to gallivant around once in a while. If you want, you can stay in Bangkok for one more day and I will show you around as a personal guide."
Oh. Oh. After a brief moment, his suggestion sunk in and she had to concede that she had not heard him wrong. Thailand, the male nation who seemed to pay little heed to her stated that he would be willing to accompany her for a day.
"I still have work to do… but sure."
"Great. Don't tell Burma or Philippines that I get to escort a lovely lady like you for a whole day – they'll get jealous."
She blinked. Was Thailand flirting with her? Under the rich, warm glow of the pub's light, his golden eyes glimmered with mirth and his grin resembled sunshine. She had always thought Thailand was decent-looking in his formal attire, but now that she had had a closer look, she could conclude that he was indeed handsome.
Vietnam shook her head slightly.
"I won't tell anyone." She said.
He fixed his eyes on her. Their gazes locked and they sat in silence for a while until the bartender came back with the drink.
"It's been a while since the last time we talked like this, huh?" Thailand broke the silence between them. "I didn't get the chance to talk to you during the world meeting in January."
Most likely did not care enough to talk to her, Vietnam thought.
"Those occasions are quite rare." She took a sip. The bitterness of Cabernet Sauvignon burned her throat and left her tongue with an astringent aftertaste. "Besides, I have little liking for unimportant conversations when I still have work to do."
"It's good that I get to talk to you now, then." Thailand seemed to find humor in her statement. "Professionalism is good, but you should loosen up from time to time."
Vietnam did indeed loosen up a little that night. As time elapsed and her alcohol consumption increased, she began to jabber on trifling matters from her recent embarrassing encounter with the press in Paris ("I made a mistake in pronunciation. That was not professional." she insisted to a mildly sober Thailand who reassured that her error did not put her country to shame) to her newly-discovered favorite food (which, to Thailand's fake disappointment, was not Pad Thai). He laughed at her random remarks and occasionally patted her shoulder to commiserate with her on her past mistakes. After Vietnam had finished her angry speech on inappropriate jokes the countries often made in world meetings, Thailand also went on to admit that he was more serious than he looked and he was also uncomfortable with inappropriate behaviors (especially those of France).
They got so drunk and comfortable with each other that at some point, Thailand leaned over and asked Vietnam if she wanted to continue their conversation in a more private place. The rest of the night breezed past her mind in a blur as a dark curtain fell over her eyes and the retrograde song in the pub swirled around her head over and over. After the music had died away, the only things she remembered were the feel of his lips on hers and the sound of his deep, quiet voice into her ears.
.
.
.
When the first sun rays slanted into the window and made Vietnam regain her consciousness, she discerned that she was lying on a bed next to Thailand. Their bodies were naked and covered in sweat, his arms were wrapping around her waist and their legs were entangled around each other.
She had always thought alcohol was a mere excuse for people to have irresponsible 'accidental' sex. Nope. Perspective-changing event. Her face flamed; she pushed him away and scrambled backward. Her action, unfortunately, made Thailand hit his head against the headboard and woke him up in the most painful way possible.
"Ouch!" Thailand opened his eyes to a very embarrassed and naked Vietnam. "What the – uh oh – hey Vietnam-"
"Don't look!" She shrieked in alarm and immediately grabbed the nearest blanket to cover her bare body. After making sure that he could not see private part of hers, she glared daggers at him. "Explain to me what had happened last night. Now."
"Whoa, there." Thailand raised both of his hands in the air. "I was drunk. No idea."
Vietnam tightened her hold on the wrinkled white blanket and stared into his eyes to read what was there. He looked genuinely addlepated – eyes wide, shoulders stiffened, uneven breath. His rising and falling chest momentarily attracted her attention and made her aware that Thailand possessed a relatively vigorous body: he had strong, chiseled chest, muscular arms and certain delicious abs. Then, realizing the straying direction of her train of thought, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
What had they done? Their night out was not supposed to end in a sexual encounter. If Laos – no, not just Laos, any country – found out about their one-nighter, they would have a lot of problems to deal with. It was common for certain countries to sleep around. Not her. She was not this impulsive.
"You okay?"
"Don't say anything." Vietnam muttered.
To Thailand's surprise, without further words, she gathered her clothes and went straight to the bathroom. Dehydration and hangover tortured her in the shower, but they were not big a problem to a country. When she came back, he offered her a glass of water, but she declined and said tersely.
"Since both of us were drunk last night, I will not sue you for sexual offense. Please forget that this ever happened."
"But what about the trip around Bangkok today-" He questioned in surprise.
"Forget it."
Vietnam did not bother to see Thailand's reaction as she stormed out of the room and took out the mobile phone in her pocket (an antiquated one that contained no secret information) to call her staff. Upon reaching the entrance of the hotel, she made sure to locate the nearest pharmacy to buy morning-after pills. Even though emergency contraceptives were less effective than birth control pills in preventing pregnancy, she had no other choice but to accept them. She bit her lips when she realized that she also had to consult her private doctor for an STD test.
Hopefully the one-night-stand would not leave any consequence.
.
.
.
The night did leave a messy aftermath, but not in the way she had imagined.
She began having dreams. Not the child-friendly and benign kinds in which she got to eat phở all day long or recount her old war stories to children in orphanages or read books in her quiet sanctum, but the kinds which were a little more tactile and suggestive than she would have liked. Her dreams were a heady mix of amorphous imaginings, not concrete enough to sense, to see, to smell, to hear but clear enough to have a vague feel of. In those figments of unreality, she could feel the warm breath of someone else on her bare skin, rough and large hands that were everywhere and hushed murmurs that wrapped themselves around her head. Those sensations were merely illusory, yet the subsequent feelings they produced were real.
Those dreams served as unpleasant reminders that Vietnam had not been sexually active for a very long time. Decades – no, maybe centuries even. The French colonial rule and incessant Indochina wars had rendered her too debilitated and severely wounded to think about those earthly desires. Even during the halcyon period after the wars, she was too occupied with consequences of the centralized planning system and the economic reforms to have time for anything else. It was hardly a miracle that she managed to suppress her profane urges during those times of hardship and tribulation.
However, now that the wars had been long over and her economy had begun to flourish, she had no reason to subdue her longing for obscenity.
She tried to take care of herself. Laying on her bed and watching a random pornographic movie, she blushed and gave up after thirty minutes of enduring the actors' fake moans and outrageous positions. Then, she consulted a therapist and endeavored to focus on her work and other hobbies as a simple distraction.
At first, her solution worked. However, the dreams only became more and more apparent with time as golden eyes and wavy dark brown hair eventually made their way into her mind and burned a hole into her sub consciousness.
One night, after jerking awake because of Thailand's sudden appearance in her rather indecent fantasy, she decided that she had had enough and recalled Thailand's face to finish herself. Finally, after months of self-restraint, she was able to come. The only way she could get out of this mess was to sleep with him again to get the feeling out of her system. And there was no way she was going to ask him to do that.
True to her word, she did not once ask him to sleep with her again. Rather, Thailand took the initiative one month later.