Teh Rose & Kopi Peng

The monsoon season had left Labis sweltering in its wake, the air thick enough to chew. The scent of damp earth and overripe mangoes clung to the morning, mixing with the rich aroma of kopi o and condensed milk.

Haryf wiped his brow with the back of his hand as he scrubbed the espresso machine’s steam wand, the metallic scent of coffee grounds mingling with the sticky sweetness of pandan cake from the display case. Bitter Sweet Café was quieter than usual for a Tuesday morning, the ceiling fans groaning as they fought a losing battle against the humidity. Outside, the rain-swollen Sungai Labis glittered under the sun, its banks crowded with a collapsing amount of bamboo trees that felt like only time could tell

Haryf had always found comfort in the rhythm of this town — the Fajr Prayer and the Hindu residents chiming their bells, the way the SJKT school bus rattled past at 6:15 a.m., the scent of Pak Mail’s nasi lemak cart perfuming the street by 7 a.m., the SJKC kids starting their PE at 8, But today, that familiarity felt suffocating.

“Ryf!”

Kak Zana’s voice sliced through his thoughts. She leaned against the cash register, her tudung slipping back to reveal a streak of premature gray in her dark hair.

“Hey, listen. New guy starts today. Jangan lupa.”

Haryf rolled his eyes, tossing the rag over his shoulder. “Kak, when did you even interview anyone? We were closed yesterday for—”

“—for Aqiqah my nephew, ya Allah, you think I can’t multitask?” She flicked a sugar packet at him, her gold bangles clinking against the counter. “Dia came in just before Maghrib. Polite, quiet. Good hands.”

“Good hands?” Haryf snorted. “We’re making kopi, not roti canai.”

Kak Zana’s smirk widened. “Nanti you’ll see.”

The door chimed before he could retort.

A man stood silhouetted against the white-hot glare of the street—broad-shouldered, Haryf noted first, then the sharp cut of a jawline shadowed with stubble. He moved with the loose-limbed confidence of someone who’d long since stopped apologizing for the space he occupied, his black bomber jacket clinging to lean muscles. When he stepped into the air-conditioned chill, Haryf caught the glint of a silver chain beneath his collar and the faintest scar curving over his left eyebrow.

“Hi. I’m Goh Jia Xin. Nice to meet y'all.”

The voice hit him like a gut punch—low, warm, but with a rasp Haryf couldn’t place. Jia Xin’s Mandarin-tinged Malay was flawless, yet something about the cadence...

Allahuakbar, he’s hot.

Haryf’s fingers tightened around the counter’s edge. He’d seen handsome men before—the Mat Salleh backpackers passing through, the cocky TAR Uni boys from Segamat—but this was different. This was the kind of beauty that made you forget everything, that turned into a haram gaze.

“Ah, datang pun (Ah, finally, you arrived.)” Kak Zana clapped, herding Jia Xin toward the staff room. “Change first, eh? Uniform in the locker.”

Jia Xin nodded, but not before his gaze flickered to Haryf. A split second too long.

Why do I felt like this

_ _

“”^””

The thought evaporated as Jia Xin reemerged minutes later, the café’s hideous brown apron somehow molding to his frame like a tailored suit. Haryf’s throat went dry. Up close, he could see the tattoo peeking from beneath Jia Xin’s sleeve—a twisting vine of bunga raya petals—and the calluses on his hands.

“So.” Jia Xin leaned against the pastry case, arms crossed. His smirk was all sharp edges. “You’re my lead barista?”

Haryf nearly dropped the milk pitcher. “Eh?”

“Kak Zana said I learn from you.” Jia Xin gestured to the espresso machine, rings glinting. “You’re the lead barista here, kan?”

Since when did Kak Zana call me that?

Haryf’s cheeks burned. “I—it’s just pushing buttons, jer lah.”

“Aiya, jangan shy shy cat lah.” Jia Xin teased, stepping closer. The scent of him—lemongrass and something smoky, like cloves—flooded Haryf’s senses. “Show me the famous ‘Haryf Special’.”

The Haryf Special. A stupid name Kak Zana had invented for his overly sweet cocoa tea latte, the one the SMK Labis girls Instagrammed with heart emojis. But as Jia Xin watched him—intently, as if memorizing the curve of Haryf’s wrist as he steamed the milk—the routine felt newly dangerous.

“You’ve… done this before?” Haryf blurted, desperate to shatter the silence.

Jia Xin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Worked in a café? Yeah. In Bangkok.”

“Why come back? And what do you do in TH?”

Jia Xin’s fingers stilled on the sugar jar. For a heartbeat, his mask slipped—a flicker of pain, or maybe fear—before he shrugged.

“Family stuff.”

"Family stuff". The universal code for "Don’t ask." Haryf knew it well.

Just 1 in a half minutes he already finished the cocoa tea just 10 seconds faster than him. “Finished” Jia Xin announced.

“That just tea jer” Haryf sulked

The morning bled into a blur of orders. Between the pakcik regulars demanding their kopi kosong and the giggling schoolgirls, Haryf stole glances at Jia Xin. The way he laughed at Kak Zana’s jokes—too loud, rehearsed. The way he avoided eye contact whenever Haryf caught him staring.

He’s hiding something.

But then, so was Haryf.

At 2:37 p.m., the universe decided to laugh.

“Ni salah!” Mira put her cup down. “I ordered kopi cham, not latte!”

Haryf blinked. The cup in his hand wasn’t even Mira’s—it was the teh o ais limau for Encik Razak.

“Maaf, maaf (I’m really sorry)—” He scrambled.

Mira asked, “It’s okay, but ko okay tak?, cam tak ok jer (Are you okay?, you look ill)”

He replied, “Ok jer, let—”

“—Let me remake it,” Jia Xin offered, his shoulder brushing Haryf’s as he reached for the latte.

The contact sent a jolt through Haryf’s spine. He stumbled back, knocking over a stack of napkins. Then falls to the floor

“Ryf!” Kak Zana hissed from the kitchen doorway. “Hati-hati! You okay or not?”

“I’m okay—”

“Tak nampak okay! (Doesn’t look like it!)” She marched over. “You sick? Forgot makan your meds again?”

Haryf batted her away, mortified. “Takdelah, Kak—”

“Jangan tipu! (Don’t lie!) Last week, you didn’t sleep for three days because you lupa makan meds.”

“Takpe, I’m okay.” He stood up, brushing it off.

Kak Zana sighed, relenting. “Go to praying area take a rest okay. Jia Xin can handle the counter.”

---

Alone in the prayer room, Haryf pressed his forehead against the cold metal shelf. The smell of burnt caramel and soy sauce from the neighboring restoran Cina seeped through the walls.

Goh Jia Xin…

Haryf’s brain scrambled through old memories, but nothing clicked.

His phone buzzed. A text from his mother:

Jangan lupa solat Asar.

“Ryf?”

He jumped. Jia Xin stood in the doorway, backlit by the afternoon sun.

“Kak Zana wants the green tea powder,” Jia Xin said, too casually.

Haryf still staring at his face, mesmerized by that incredible jawline then, he's accidentally dropped his phone.

“You… oops… here, phone awak. You okay in here?” Jia Xin asked.

The question lingered, heavy with something unspoken that he been keeping it almost forever.

“Yeah,” Haryf whispered. “Just… ghosts, gui, hantus.”

Jia Xin’s jaw tightened. “Oh My God, Same tapi kat depan ah, hurry where's the matcha powder?.”

Haryf replied. “Second level, first shelf”

“Oh thanks”

Haryf exhaled. And if he was honest with himself, there was something else too.

Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

He gets up and goes out from the storage room, and hoping for someone to cheer him up.

He hid his feelings as best he could, but his laughter, curiosity, and empathy were almost like those of his old friend who had disappeared when they were 15. — ”it can't be lah that's him, the one who I thinking is a girl, ni a guy hensem pulak tu ya Allah, ok wake up Haryf I'll better start arranging these things".

After a long time of Haryf sitting alone in the back, he finally came out. There were only two or three customers. Even Kak Zana was nowhere to be seen. Jia Xin came out of the toilet. — “Umm Haryf?“ Haryf replied in shock “Allahuakbar, terkejut saya!!“ Jia Xin's apologized to Haryf “I'm so sorry….anyway you sit here I'll make you some tea, is Raya Rosa ok?“ Haryf nodded

Then sat on the nearest seat.

“Here your tea” Jia Xin sat and ask “Haryf are you okay, you seem frazzled when I arrive, if you didn't like me I—” Haryf replied “no—don't — it's nothing, probably nothing to do with you, but….never mind” Jia Xin insist “Haryf please tell me, I know if you keep hiding something it will stress you out” Haryf shocked “only my closed friends know that, I only told 5 people not even my siblings….how did you know?!“ Haryf asked “I…know who to read….people's body language…it's quite easy actually….” Jia Xin lied

“Oh ok, if I tell you please don't be mad” Haryf said then Jia Xin “Ok I won't” “I…I have a crush and…I can't stop thinking that…th…they might don't like it” he white lie “who is it? Kak Zana Hahaha” Jia Xin jokingly said “noo” Haryf sulk, and Jia Xin teasing him again and said “Who Uncle Cheng ke hahahaha” “bukan lah ugh, majuk ah (no)” Haryf replied “eleh cakap lah sape…” Jia Xin begged to know “kita cakap pasal benda lain lah”, “hmm yelah”

They talk about various subjects especially Haryf current fixations, and Jia Xin just lovingly listening to his secondary school best friend that doesn't know who is he.

Until Haryf bring up past fixation…”You know we currently move in 2.1 million kilometers per hour and all galaxies…” and both of them said “….is falling towards a cosmic structure called the Great Attractor…” Haryf confused “huh…wa…what??, I don't remember telling you that though??“ Jia Xin white lying “maybe I can predicting…what people…might say??….“

“Hmm or that information is everywhere on socials??“ Haryf

“Yeah….I noticed a lot of people…repeating those info….on…TikTok..yah TikTok” Jia Xin nervously answer.

“Well let's talk about human biology then then—there a lot of human part that / dimorphics” Haryf confused “whaa…” Jia Xin turning red and started stammering “I—I mean—obviously b—becaus—I'm Tra—know about—Bed Nucleus of the Stria Terminalis ya..“

Kak Zana “Wow guys it's closing time don't want to get ready to kemas ke??“ Kak Zana jokingly disturbed them

Jia Xin sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the small, faded Polaroid in his hands. The edges were slightly curled, the colors washed out from age, but the image was clear. Two Families, all bundled up in jackets at Cameron Highlands. A cool mist clung to the background, the tea farm’s the young tea leaves adding color to the scene. Right in the middle—Haryf. Grinning, two missing front teeth, his tiny hands holding a plastic cup filled with fresh strawberries. And next to him—Jia Xin. Or rather, the child he used to be.

Back then, he had a different name, a different body. A past he had left behind.

Jia Xin traced the edges of the Polaroid with his thumb, memories stirring like dust in the back of his mind. He had found the photo while unpacking last night, tucked between old documents in his suitcase. His mother must have slipped it in. A silent reminder of the life he abandoned when he left Malaysia.

For a split second, he wanted to show Haryf—“Look, we knew each other once!”—but the thought quickly soured. Bad idea. Haryf didn’t recognize him. And maybe that was for the best. Jia Xin exhaled and slipped the Polaroid on the back of his phone, burying the past where it belonged.

He started to have a flashbacks

The hospital room smelled like antiseptic and fresh linen. The IV drip beeped softly, a steady rhythm cutting through the silence. Jia Xin was alone. No family, no friends, no one waiting outside. Just himself and the body he had fought so hard to claim.

He had left Malaysia at fifteen, taking the first flight to Bangkok with barely any money and a burning determination. It had been years of consultations, hormone therapy, surgeries—each step bringing him closer to the person he was always meant to be. But it came with a cost. Isolation. His family stopped speaking to him. His old friends faded away. He had rewritten his life from scratch.

Some nights, he wondered if he had made the right choice. Other nights, he looked in the mirror and saw himself—really, truly himself—for the first time. And that was enough.

Back to the Present

In the morning, Jia Xin woke up feeling unusually energetic, a strange sensation that left him both excited and confused. He got ready quickly, the anticipation of seeing Haryf again buzzing in his veins. As he took the key and locked the house, he couldn’t shake the feeling that today would be different.

Jia Xin dragged a hand down his face, snapping himself out of the memories. He had no regrets. But now, back in Malaysia after a decade of absence, things felt... complicated. Especially Haryf.

Jia Xin sighed, standing up and stretching. His shift at Bitter Sweet Café started in an hour, and he had to get ready. But as he buttoned his shirt, his thoughts kept circling back to Haryf—his warm laugh, his nervous stuttering, the way he wiped the counter three times in a row yesterday because he was flustered. It was... cute. Dangerously cute.

Jia Xin wasn’t stupid. He had met enough men to recognize signs of attraction. But was that just wishful thinking? What if Haryf was straight? What if—worse—Haryf is a transphobe? Jia Xin’s chest tightened. He knew what it was like to be unwanted. To be rejected for simply existing. Would it be worth it? Would Haryf still smile at him the same way if he knew the truth?

Jia Xin grabbed his phone, flipping it to glance at the Polaroid one last time. That little girl in the picture—the one standing next to Haryf—didn’t exist anymore. Maybe it was best if Haryf never found out. With that thought, he tucked the photo away into his phone case and headed to work, pushing the past behind him. But no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, the ache in his chest remained. Because for the first time in a long time… he wanted someone to know him. The real him.

Driving to the café, he navigated the row of shops that had sprung up in Labis, filled with popular café branches like 7-ELEVEN Cafe, Baker's Cottage, Bask Bear, Zus Coffee, Tealive and Secret Recipe with some local cafés like Golden, Dapo Bubu, Mina Cafe and Collum Tea. The familiar chaos of the town felt both comforting and alien. He had spent so long away, and now everything seemed to have changed, yet remained the same.

As he entered Bitter Sweet Café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him, grounding him in the moment. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the coffee bar where Haryf was prepping the espresso machine. The sight of him sent a rush of warmth through Jia Xin. Haryf was cute—his chubby cheeks flushed with concentration, his brow furrowed as he focused on the task at hand.

“Li ho bo, cutie! Awal sampai!(How are you cutie, arrive early huh!” Jia Xin greeted playfully, pinching Haryf's cheeks as he leaned over the counter. The contact was electric, and he felt a thrill at the surprised look on Haryf’s face.

“Eh! Jia Xin!” Haryf exclaimed, his voice a mix of shock and delight. The way Haryf’s eyes widened made Jia Xin’s heart race. “You scared me!”

“Just wanted to say hi to my favorite barista,” Jia Xin teased, leaning in closer, enjoying the way Haryf’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red. “You look like you need a little cheer this morning.”

Haryf chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I’m just trying to get this machine to cooperate. It’s being a bit degil today.”

“Maybe it just needs a little love,” Jia Xin suggested, winking. He stepped behind the counter, feeling a surge of confidence. “Let me help you.”

As they worked side by side, the atmosphere between them shifted. Haryf’s nervousness seemed to fade, replaced by a playful banter that flowed easily. They exchanged jokes and laughter, the café buzzing around them, but in that moment, it felt like they were in their own little world.

“Okay, so what’s the secret to your ‘Haryf Special’?” Jia Xin asked, leaning closer to Haryf, who was now focused on steaming milk.

Haryf hesitated, glancing at Jia Xin with a shy smile. “It’s just cocoa tea with a lot of sugar. Nothing special, really.”

“Sounds perfect,” Jia Xin replied, his heart fluttering. “Just like you.”

Haryf’s eyes widened again, and for a moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Jia Xin felt a rush of hope mixed with fear. What if Haryf felt the same way? What if he didn’t? The uncertainty was both thrilling and terrifying.

As they continued to work, Jia Xin couldn’t help but steal glances at Haryf. The way he concentrated, the little quirks he had—it all made Jia Xin’s heart swell. But the nagging doubt crept back in. Would Haryf still look at him the same way if he knew the truth? Would he still smile, or would that smile turn to pity or disgust?

“Hey, Jia Xin?” Haryf’s voice broke through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. “You okay? You seem a bit… distracted.”

Jia Xin forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. “Yeah, just thinking about how to make the perfect cup of coffee.”

“Right,” Haryf said, his brow furrowing slightly. “Well, if you need any tips, I’m the pro—lah sangat.”

Jia Xin chuckled, but the laughter felt hollow. He wanted to tell Haryf everything—to share his past, his struggles, and the journey that had brought him back to this moment. But fear held him back, a heavy weight in his chest.

As the morning rush continued, Jia Xin pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the present. He was here, in this café, with Haryf. And for now, that was enough. But deep down, he knew that the past would always linger, waiting for the right moment to resurface. And when it did, he hoped he would be ready to face it—together with Haryf.

The lunchtime rush had just started to die down when it happened.

A customer — distracted by a group of friends laughing at the next table —accidentally tipped over their tall glass of iced caramel macchiato.

Jia Xin barely had time to react before the drink splashed across his chest, drenching his apron and shirt in sticky, cold liquid.

A collective gasp rippled through the café.

“Ya Allah, sorry” The customer, a panicked college student, frantically grabbed napkins, trying to help.

Jia Xin, ever the professional, forced a small smile. “It’s okay, no worries.”

But Haryf?

Haryf was not okay.

As soon as Jia Xin peeled off his soaked apron, revealing his tight, now-clinging-to-his-body white shirt, some of the female customers started whispering — and ogling.

Haryf saw it. He saw everything.

One girl leaned over to her friend, whispering way too loudly, “Weh, he's punya chest solid sia”, “rawr” another teased “bongok lah haha” another died laughing after her friend said that

Another giggled. “Macam model. Bestnya kalau ada boyfriend macam dia.(Like model, it would be great if I had a boyfriend like that)”

Haryf scowled.

Without thinking, he grabbed Jia Xin by the wrist and pulled him toward the back. “gi change now.“

The customer kept apologizing, offering to pay for the damages, but Haryf barely heard them.

His heart was thumping.

Inside the Changing Room

Jia Xin chuckled. “Relak, babe. I can walk”

Haryf, who was suddenly very aware of how close they were, cleared his throat and quickly let go.

“Don't panggil I babe” His voice came out higher than intended.

Jia Xin smirked, untying the apron before peeling off his shirt.

Haryf, trying to look at his phone and not at Jia Xin, casually scrolled through Instagram. Cool. No problem. I totally did not just drag him away because I was jealous.

Then, his eyes betrayed him.

Just a quick glance.

That’s all it took.

Damn.

Jia Xin’s body was exactly Haryf’s type —solid, muscular, sculpted like a gym ad. But something else caught his attention.

Right across Jia Xin’s chest, faint but visible— two horizontal scars.

Haryf froze.

Wait.

Those scars.

His brain struggled to process it for a second.

“Is that —” he started, but Jia Xin immediately turned around.

“What? There’s nothing. I—uh—I’m shy, boleh tak keluar dulu, Xie Xie.”

Haryf hesitated. He wanted to ask more, but something about Jia Xin’s tone told him now wasn’t the time.

So, he nodded.

“Okay… okay.”

As he stepped out, his mind raced.

Outside the Changing Room

Is he trans?

The thought rolled around in Haryf’s head.

If he was, that was… cool as hell.

And the scars?

Honestly, they made Jia Xin look even more badass.

Haryf leaned against the counter, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He wasn’t even paying attention when he accidentally put his phone down next to Jia Xin’s.

That’s when he saw it.

A photo.

Tucked into Jia Xin’s phone case, partly covered by a hundred-ringgit bill and some stickers.

At first, it was hard to make out.

But then—

Haryf’s breath hitched.

That—That’s Mak?!

His fingers instinctively reached for the phone, trying to get a clearer look.

Is that my family in the photo?

Before he could pull it out completely—

THUNK.

“Allah” Haryf shock

A strong hand suddenly slapped over his own.

Haryf jumped.

Jia Xin was standing there, shirt changed, face unreadable.

“What are you doing?” Jia Xin’s voice was calm but firm.

Haryf blinked. “Uh—there was a photo—I just—”

“There’s nothing to see here,” Jia Xin cut him off, grabbing his phone back.

Haryf narrowed his eyes.

No. He definitely saw something.

His brain worked quickly, piecing things together.

That photo looked like a family trip—his family, his aunt’s family, and another group of family friends from Labis.

His memory suddenly snapped into place.

Oh my God.

Haryf stared at Jia Xin.

“You…” His voice came out shaky.

Jia Xin’s jaw tensed.

“…You’re Goh Jia Xin.”

A pause.

Jia Xin’s face was blank. “Yeah. So?”

“No. I mean—” Haryf took a deep breath, trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions.

“You’re The Goh Jia Xin.”

Jia Xin still didn’t react.

Haryf exhaled sharply.

“The girl everyone called my bodyguard.”

Another beat of silence.

Jia Xin’s shoulders slumped slightly.

“Um—Yeah—,” he finally said, voice quieter. “Hi. Long time no see.”

Haryf’s stomach flipped.

For years, he’d wondered what happened to that childhood friend—the girl who used to stick up for him when kids teased him for being chubby.

And now?

She—he—was standing right in front of him.

And he was hot.

Haryf nervously laughed. “You, um—you look really good.”

Jia Xin raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah, I mean—” Haryf scrambled for words. “I—I have a thing for—uh, well, you—uh, you are good looking now and definitely—yah and, uh, Alhamdulillah, you’re not homophobic—”

Jia Xin’s lips twitched.

“Oh,” he said casually, “so am I your type?”

Haryf felt his soul leave his body.

His face turned red.

“What—when did I said that—.”

Jia Xin smirked. “Well. You’re mine too.”

Haryf choked.

Wait. What.

“W—What?”

Jia Xin grinned, leaning slightly closer.

“And sorry for assuming you were transphobic,” he added. “Honestly, that’s why I asked Kak Zana for a private interview after closing. I wanted to tell her first. She said—”

Jia Xin paused for effect, smirking.

“—Jangan risau. There’s other kumbang pelangi in here.“

Haryf’s eyes widened.

Wait.

Wait.

WAIT.

Slowly, he turned toward the counter.

Toward Kak Zana.

Who was already grinning from the espresso machine.

Haryf exhaled sharply and muttered, “KAK ZANA.”

She laughed, tossing a dish towel over her shoulder.

“Ada taman bunga* panggil ke?(Is there a person falling in love call me?)”

The world felt smaller now. Or maybe it was just the room—silent except for the muffled chatter outside, the hum of an air conditioner struggling against the tropical heat. Haryf stood stiffly near the desk, eyes locked on the faded photograph in Jia Xin’s hands.

Two boys, seven years old. One grinning, the other squinting slightly at the sun. A memory from before their paths split.

“I didn’t expect you to still have this,” Jia Xin said, his voice quieter than Haryf remembered.

“You just—disappeared,” Haryf murmured. His fists clenched involuntarily. “At sixteen, you were gone. No message. No goodbye.”

Jia Xin exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the old photo. “It wasn’t by choice.”

Haryf scoffed, but it lacked

Chinese New Year is coming up, but unfortunately Jia Xin's parents not invited him, and Haryf feels bad, and he had a plan, in Chinese New Year his cousin are getting married. So he Invited him

Next day

Haryf sat on his bed, staring at his packed suitcase, his heart pounding against his ribs. His phone screen glowed softly in the dim room, the time ticking away as the departure hour crept closer. The plan was set—Jia Xin would drive, and they would leave Labis, Johor, behind, embarking on a journey out of Johor

He exhaled, steadying himself. Would it feel different? Being alone with Jia Xin, away from familiar streets, away from prying eyes?

Haryf’s thoughts were interrupted by the honk of a car outside. He hurried to the window and saw Jia Xin leaning casually against his car, sunglasses perched atop his head, grinning up at him. "You coming, or do I have to drag you?" Jia Xin called, his voice teasing but warm.

Haryf grabbed his bag, took one last deep breath, and headed downstairs. His parents were already leaving in their own packed car, with of his younger sister and the kids they babysat and multiple bags and family sized futons. They had granted permission easily when Haryf had suggested Jia Xin come along for the family wedding in Tapah. But they didn’t know about the detour.

“Ready?” Jia Xin asked as Haryf slid into the passenger seat.

“Yeah,” Haryf murmured, buckling his seatbelt.

“WAIT—kiss pipi first boleh” Jia Xin fluttering his lashes

“Ayer gatallah you ni” Haryf replied

The car pulled away from Labis, the familiar sights giving way to stretches of plantations, the trees swaying lazily in the midday heat. The road was long, but Jia Yin was an effortless driver, his hands steady on the wheel.

"You okay?" Jia Xin glanced at him. "You look like you’re overthinking."

Haryf hesitated. "It’s just... this feels big, you know? A trip. A date. Us."

Jia Xin chuckled, reaching over to squeeze his knee briefly before returning his hand to the wheel. "It is big. And it's gonna be great. Jap did your Makcik know about the detour?"

“Noooopee” Haryf replied

“Go tell her, behenti kang” Jia Xin chuckled with jokingly threatening him

“Ok”

The miles melted away. Up the highway past Melaka with it's busy highway interchange and Negeri Sembilan with it's 8 lane highway that have business on both sides, and finally into the neon embrace of Kuala Lumpur. It wasn't just a trip. It was a date. Their first real one. Soon, they were weaving through the Klang Valley, the city skyline rising like a promise before them.

Finally they're arrived at their hotel

Jia Xin had chosen a three-star hotel owned by an Ally, a modest yet well-kept place with modern amenities. When they checked in, Jia Xin used Haryf’s ID, flashing a knowing smile as he handed it over. "Just in case, babe."

Haryf felt his face flush but said nothing.

“Well—you know this hotel is popular with it's annual Furry Convention right” Haryf whispering and chuckled

“Wait yeke, um bang you do an annual Furry Convention here?“ Jia Xin asked the Receptionist

The Receptionist answered “haah FURUM, just finished a month ago”

“Wow walauwei, anyway, jom go to our bilik, nandri ennen ” Jia Xin thanks to the receptionist

The room was intimate. The first thing that caught his eye was the bed—decorated with rose petals, two rainbow trimming towel swans meeting at the beak, and a rainbow band neatly placed atop the pillows. His breath hitched.

Jia Xin in set his bag down and turned to him. "Do you like it?"

Haryf nodded slowly. "You planned this?"

Jia Xin in smirked. "I wanted it to feel special."

Haryf’s fingers brushed against the rainbow band. A quiet warmth settled in his chest.

They're finished showering to get ready for night walk at 9, then..

Allahuakbarullahuakbar…

The sound of Adhan echoes

While Jia Xin changing to his clean clothes, Haryf get up to the bathroom to take a wudu, Jia Xin switch off the loud tele, lowered his phone volume, and covered the vanity mirror

Haryf coming out from the bathroom after taking the wudu “waaaa—why the mirror is covered?“

Jia Xin replied “you can't pray with the mirror open right?“

“Oh my sweet Tang Yuan, the kiblah is facing away from the mirror, please don't be just brawl” Haryf chuckled

“Oh God, I did not notice the kiblah arrow on the ceiling lol” said Jia Xin

After Haryf finished his Isha prayer

They decided go get a dinner. Jia Xin had suggested TAPAK, a bustling urban food park known for its night scene and trendy stalls. The place was alive with chatter, the scent of sizzling meats and sweet desserts filling the air.

They found a table near the center, ordering drinks and satay. Everything felt perfect—until a voice cut through the air.

“Well, well. If it isn’t (Redacted).”

Haryf turned to see a man approaching. He was tall, with slicked-back hair, a half-buttoned floral shirt, and a predatory grin that made Haryf instantly uneasy.

"Shabalan Chen Khow," Jia Yin muttered under his breath.

"Who's this?" Shabalan eyed Haryf up and down before smirking. "Your new plaything?"

Jia Xin's posture stiffened. "Back off."

Shabalan ignored him, leaning closer to Haryf. "You’re wasting time with him, you know. You need a real man. Someone who can show you what you really need." His fingers reached out, grazing Haryf’s arm.

Haryf recoiled, his stomach twisting. The air around them tensed, the easy atmosphere of TAPAK shattered.

"Don’t touch him," Jia Xin snapped, standing up so fast his chair scraped against the pavement.

Shabalan laughed, unfazed. "Oh, come on. I’m just having fun. He looks like he’d enjoy a little—"

The punch came fast. Jia Xin’s fist connected with Shabalan’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending the man stumbling backward. Gasps and shouts erupted from the surrounding tables.

"You—" Shabalan wiped blood from his lip, eyes dark with rage.

"Stay the hell away from him," Jia Xin spat.

Haryf barely had time to process before people rushed to intervene. Some pulled Jia Yin away, while others went to check on Shabalan. A woman touched Haryf’s arm gently. “Are you okay?”

He nodded shakily. Was he okay?

Shabalan, still wiping his lip, sneered. “You really think she’s gonna protect you? You think she’s enough?” speaking towards Haryf then he continues and to Jia Xin “Don't worry (Redacted) I will do everything to rampas your lil fish fry”

Jia Xin struggled against the hands holding him back. “Try me again, you bastard."

Security arrived, dispersing the tension. Shabalan was escorted away, still smirking, while Jia Yin was warned to cool off.

Haryf was still trembling when Jia Xin turned to him, his anger softening into concern. "Are you hurt?"

"No," Haryf whispered. But inside, something ached.

Jia Xin exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I didn’t think I’d see him here."

Haryf reached for his hand, squeezing. "Thank you. For standing up for me."

Jia Yin met his gaze, his jaw still tight, but his grip was steady. "Always."

They left TAPAK soon after, the city’s lights feeling harsher, the night air heavier. In the car, Jia Xin was silent for a long time before finally speaking.

"You know I’d never let anyone hurt you, right?"

Haryf nodded. "I know."

As they drove back to the hotel, exhaustion settled over Haryf. The night had turned into something far more intense than he’d expected. But one thing was clear—Jia Xin had fought for him. And that meant something.

As they entered their hotel room, Haryf sat on the edge of the bed, still gripping the rainbow band. Jia Xin crouched in front of him, lifting his chin so their eyes met.

"Forget him," Jia Xin said. "This trip is about us."

Haryf swallowed hard, then nodded. "Okay."

Jia Xin smiled, kissing his forehead before standing up. "Then let’s make the most of it."

The night wasn't ruined. It had only just begun.

The sound of alarm, early morning Kuala Lumpur traffic, and a faint Arabic. Jia Xin stirred, reaching out instinctively for warmth, but his arms found only empty sheets. He blinked groggily, eyes still heavy with sleep, he tried to reach his “Muar Chee” on other side of the bed but—

"Aik, walao wei, where is he?" he mumbled, voice rough from last night.

Pushing himself up, he rubbed his face, then swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The faint sound of murmured words reached his ears. He turned toward the source—the sight of Haryf, kneeling on his prayer mat, made him pause.

Dressed in a loose t-shirt and track pants, Haryf moved with steady grace, his voice low and rhythmic. The way he bowed, hands positioned in solemn reverence, made something tighten in Jia Xin’s chest. He had seen Haryf pray before, but this morning, something about it hit differently. Maybe it was the calm on his lover’s face. Maybe it was the warmth blooming in his own heart.

Jia Xin exhaled slowly, his lips curving into a small smile.

Damn, I really love him.

Shaking his head at his own thoughts, he flopped back onto the bed, closing his eyes briefly. Seconds later, he heard the soft shuffle of feet. The mattress dipped beside him.

"Dah woke up kan?" Haryf’s voice rang out, teasing. "Gi shower, busuk."

Jia Xin cracked an eye open, grinning. "Eleh, you cium my ketiak last night, doesn’t cakap busuk pulak, anyway 5 minutes boleh."

“Aye go—go lah shower, aye budak ni”

Haryf rolled his eyes before pushing him playfully toward the bathroom. Jia Xin laughed, letting himself be shoved along.

“Ok shayang”

“ \ / “

“” “”

^

—

After freshening up, they made their way downstairs for breakfast at the hotel restaurant. The spread was impressive, with everything from steaming bowls of congee to flaky roti canai.

Haryf wasted no time piling his plate with Char Kway Teow, Egg Rolls, and a Mild Teh O Ais. Jia Xin, ever the classic Malaysian, went straight for Nasi Lemak, Limau Suam, and Cucur Udang.

The Hotel workers chatting about them not eating their own ethnic food but instead each other's and called them “Kiut”

They ate leisurely, enjoying the variety of flavors. Haryf hummed in satisfaction after a particularly good bite. "I swear, hotel food always taste better than it should."

Jia Xin snorted. "That’s ‘cause we’re hungry."

Soon, breakfast was over, and they checked out of the hotel. Their next stop: Kuala Lumpur City Centre.

—

KLCC was a sight to behold, as always. The towering Petronas Twin Towers loomed above, gleaming under the morning sun. Crowds of tourists bustled around, snapping photos and taking in the city’s energy.

Haryf grinned, turning to Jia Xin. "You know, before Taipei 101, this was the tallest building in the world. Kita are the tallest."

Jia Xin chuckled. "Ya, in to-si gian dua lah itu, Taiwan orang punya jealous."

As they walked past the entrance, a stranger suddenly bumped into Haryf.

"Oi!" Jia Xin exclaimed. "Eh, you blind ah?!"

The person barely muttered an apology before hurrying off.

Haryf frowned, adjusting his bag. "Weird."

Jia Xin brushed it off. "Orang klutz, kot."

Neither of them noticed the small device now tucked into Haryf’s bag pocket.

Shrugging it off, they continued with their day. The Twin Towers provided a spectacular view, but their next stop—Aquaria—was a different kind of breathtaking.

Inside the aquarium, they strolled through dimly lit tunnels surrounded by shimmering blue water. Schools of fish swam past in dazzling colors, and the occasional stingray glided overhead like a silent shadow.

Haryf leaned close to the glass, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the tanks. "Damn, imagine living in the ocean."

Jia Xin smirked. "You wanna jadi ikan ke?"

"Hmm, kalau jadi ikan, you jadi Clownfish jer, kacau"

Jia Xin gasped, dramatically clutching his chest. "Amboi I kacau eh takpelah, you stay ngan orang tu?!"

Oh okay—okay you not bothering at all, sowwy”

Haryf just laughed, nudging him playfully. Jia Xin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smiling.

They wandered through the aquarium, marveling at the jellyfish display and the vibrant coral reefs before moving to KLCC Park. The green expanse provided a refreshing contrast to the city skyline, the sound of children laughing and fountains splashing filling the air.

Jia Xin stretched, enjoying the afternoon warmth. "Honestly, KL got its own spark, lah."

Haryf nodded. "Yeah. But it's too crowded, jom—."

—

By late afternoon, they were back in the car, heading toward Perak. The road stretched ahead, winding through rolling hills and vast plantations. The further they drove, the more the cityscape faded into lush greenery.

Jia Xin stole a glance at Haryf, who had dozed off against the window. His face was relaxed, his breathing slow and steady.

Jia Xin smiled softly. He looks so peaceful.

But as he drove, an uneasy feeling crept up his spine. Something about today felt... off. The bump with the stranger. The device he hadn’t noticed.

Was it just bad luck?

Shaking his head, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. Whatever it was, he wouldn’t let anything happen to Haryf.

Not on his watch.

Some hours later they arrive, feeling nervous and anxious hit them both “you know better rahsia, only my mak tau that's were enough”

Jia Xin nodded, the sigh of agreement

The car rumbled to a stop in front of his father's side hometown in Kampung Labu Kubong, Perak. The afternoon air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant sound of a muezzin’s call for Friday prayer. Haryf stretched his arms, shaking off the stiffness of the long drive, and turned to Jia Xin with a tired grin.

“We’re here.”

Jia Xin peered outside. The house was a familiar sight to Haryf — aged wooden panels, a sloping zinc roof, and the sturdy verandah where he had spent countless evenings playing with his siblings and cousins. Only a few of his cousins and his grandparents were home; his parents had arrived about five hours earlier, but since his father and older brother had gone to the mosque, no one had noticed their arrival.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the car. “Assalamualaikum,” he called out, knocking lightly on the front door. A giggle and the sound of small hands knocking back on the sliding door made him smile.

When he slid it open, two little figures greeted him—Auliah and Auzair, the children his parents babysat.

"Eh, Auliah!" He pinched the little girl’s cheek, making her squeal in laughter. "Auzair!" He lifted the toddler into his arms, spinning him slightly before setting him down.

His younger sister, Hazyanni, emerged from the hallway. "Dik, bila sampai?" he asked.

"Baru jer," she replied, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

"Mana Mak?"

"Kat bilik," she said, gesturing down the hallway.

Haryf turned to Jia Xin, smirking. "Jom, Lou Gong, machuk."

Jia Xin snorted but followed him inside. “Eh, your Xiao Mei knows about us?”

“Only Abah doesn’t.”

"Eh? Even your abang knows?"

Haryf nodded. His entire family, except his father, knew about their relationship. It had taken time, but he had been surprised by how accepting most of them were. His father, however, was another story.

Stepping into the house, he exchanged greetings with his cousins and Atok, who sat on his favorite wooden chair with a small radio beside him, tuned in to the Friday sermon. He then headed into his mother’s room for a brief moment before returning to sit with the others.

A little while later, two cars pulled up outside—his father and brother had returned from the mosque, and his grandmother and aunt had arrived from the market. The house, which had been quiet just moments before, was now alive with chatter, laughter, and the clatter of plates as his mother started preparing tea.

—

By 3:30 PM, as the afternoon sun dipped lower, Jia Xin stretched lazily and turned to him.

"Eh, let's go jalan-jalan in Teluk Intan."

Haryf raised an eyebrow. "Huh tiba-tiba nak sightseeing pulak?"

Jia Xin shrugged. "It's a long time tak datang Perak. I wanna see the Leaning Tower, and I miss the Chee Chong Fun here." While making sad face

Haryf thought for a moment, then smirked. "Fine. But my siblings and the kids are coming with us and you order alone cuz Teluk Intan CCF only in non-halal restaurants."

Jia Xin groaned and sigh but nodded, "Okay, okay lah, fair lah."

“Ayer your mengada, mengalahkan Auliah” Haryf teasingly replied

Within ten minutes, they had bundled Hazyanni, Auliah, and Auzair into the car and set off toward Teluk Intan.

—

For the next two hours, they explored the quiet town. The Leaning Tower stood proudly in the town center, its pagoda-like structure an iconic sight. They snapped a few pictures before stopping by a roadside stall for Teluk Intan’s famous Chee Cheong Fun.

Haryf enjoyed the outing but couldn’t shake off a nagging feeling in his gut. It was as if something—someone—was watching him.

He scanned his surroundings, but the crowded streets seemed normal. No one appeared to be following them.

Relax, Haryf. You’re just being paranoid.

Brushing off the unease, he focused on the food and conversation, watching Jia Xin struggle to keep Auliah from stealing his drink.

“Awak,” he murmured after a while. “I want to go to the toilet.”

Jia Xin barely looked up. "Go lah. Jangan hilang sudah."

Haryf rolled his eyes. “Tak lah.”

With that, he stood and made his way toward the public restroom at the end of the street. The air was humid, the pavement slightly wet from an earlier drizzle.

As he walked, the uneasy feeling returned—stronger this time.

The hair on the back of his neck prickled. Footsteps.

Subtle. Persistent.

His heartbeat quickened. He turned a corner, stepping into the quiet alley beside the restroom, and pretended to check his phone.

The footsteps followed.

His stomach twisted. He took a deep breath before turning around—

And froze.

Standing just a few meters away was Shabalan Chen Khow.

His smirk was unmistakable, predatory. The bisexual playboy who had harassed him in KL.

"Fancy meeting you here, sweetheart," Shabalan drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Alone, too."

A surge of dread coursed through Haryf, but he quickly masked it with a glare. "What the hell do you want?"

Shabalan tilted his head, stepping forward. "Oh, don’t be like that. We barely got to talk last time."

Haryf clenched his fists. His mind raced. He needed to get back to Jia Xin. He needed to

—

Before he could react, Shabalan grabbed his wrist, pulling him close.

"Let go!" Haryf hissed, struggling.

"Why fight it?" Shabalan whispered. His breath reeked of alcohol. "You know, a real man, that's what you need" he lock Haryf position on the wall and tried to kiss him, Haryf feels Shabalan's weapon rubbing against him

“Once you feels mine, you can't stop craving it”

Shabalan's force the kiss.

Then a sharp, familiar voice cut through the air.

"OI, BABI!"

Shabalan barely had time to turn before Jia Xin’s fist connected with his jaw.

The force sent him stumbling back, cursing. Jia Xin didn’t wait—he lunged again, grabbing Shabalan by the collar and slamming him against the wall.

"You don’t touch him," Jia Xin growled. "You don’t look at him. And if I ever see you near him again—" He punched him again, sending him crumpling to the ground.

By now, a small crowd had gathered, some trying to pull them apart, others checking on Haryf.

"You okay?" someone asked, gently touching his shoulder.

Haryf nodded, still shaken.

Shabalan groaned on the ground, blood trickling from his nose. Jia Xin stood over him, breathing hard, eyes filled with pure rage.

"You’re lucky I don’t break your face," he spat before turning to Haryf. "Come. We’re leaving."

Haryf didn’t argue. He just grabbed Jia Xin’s hand, fingers trembling slightly, and let himself be pulled away.

The shadow smirks.

The drive home was cloaked in silence. The rhythmic hum of the car engine did little to ease the weight in the air. The streetlights cast fleeting glows through the windshield, illuminating Jia Xin’s tense expression.

Haryf watched his boyfriend from the passenger seat, his fingers curled into his lap. The tightness in Jia Xin’s jaw, the clenched fists gripping the steering wheel—it was clear he was still fuming over what had happened. But more than anger, there was a shadow of something deeper in his eyes.

Trauma. Regret. A memory resurfaced.

Haryf reached out, fingers grazing Jia Xin’s arm.

"Awak," he murmured.

Jia Xin exhaled sharply but said nothing. His knuckles were pale against the wheel.

"We’re okay now."

Jia Xin finally glanced at him, his dark eyes searching, but the sorrow in them didn’t fade.

Haryf didn’t press further. Instead, he laced their fingers together, squeezing gently. He knew that look—the weight of past wounds reopening. And he knew what it was like to carry them alone.

—

At Kampung Labu Kubong

They barely had time to step inside before his mother’s frantic voice filled the air.

“Allahuakbar! Ya Allah, Ryf okay tak?!”

She rushed to him, her face pale with worry.

"Tak cukup dengan si Khairil, sekarang ada lagi yang nak SA anak Mak?!"

Jia Xin froze, his eyes darting between them.

"APA, Cik?!" he blurted out, voice sharp with shock. "Haryf pernah kena?!"

A heavy silence hung between them.

"Iye," his mother finally said, her voice laced with old pain.

Jia Xin turned to Haryf, his eyes darkening in realization. Haryf could see it—the pieces clicking into place in Jia Xin’s mind.

"Pi bawak Ryf masuk bilik rehat," his mother instructed.

"Baik, Cik."

His mother gave him a pointed look.

Jia Xin blinked. "Panggil Mak."

A small, tired smile tugged at her lips despite the tension.

"Baik, Mak."

—

In the quiet of Haryf’s family bedroom, Jia Xin sat on the edge of the bed while Haryf leaned back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. The weight of the past hours settled heavily in his chest.

Jia Xin’s voice was gentle when he spoke.

"Babe… do you want to talk? Do you need me to hold you? Or…" His voice softened further. "Want me to tell you about my life in Bangkok?"

Haryf didn’t reply—he simply raised three fingers.

Jia Xin exhaled through his nose.

"Okay," he murmured. "Let me tell you about this guy. His chosen name was Paytani. He was… something else."

And so he began his story.

—

The Next Morning

At 6:40 AM, the air was still crisp when Haryf’s phone alarm buzzed.

He groaned, shifting under the blanket before feeling a warm weight draped over his waist. Jia Xin had curled around him in his sleep, his breath steady against the back of his neck.

"Awak," Haryf murmured, nudging him. "Bangun, we need to get ready."

Jia Xin groaned in protest, burying his face deeper into the pillow. "Five more minutes."

Haryf snorted. "If we’re late, Mak will skin us both."

That got Jia Xin moving.

—

The wedding wouldn’t start until 11 AM, but the family decided to head out early to explore the area and grab breakfast.

They ended up driving toward Bidor, stopping at a local coffee shop for a simple but hearty meal of noodles and kaya toast. The atmosphere was lively, the clatter of dishes and the buzz of morning conversations filling the air.

By the time they arrived at Tapah, the wedding venue, the preparations were already well underway.

Haryf’s maternal cousin was getting married, and since his mother’s side hailed mostly from Johor, many of the guests were still on the way.

—

The Wedding Ceremony

The pelamin (wedding dais) was beautifully decorated—golden drapes, white roses, and fairy lights casting a soft glow over the stage. The bride, radiant in her traditional white songket attire, sat beside her groom, both of them grinning from ear to ear.

Jia Xin, dressed sharply in a blue baju Melayu, leaned in and whispered, "This is my first time at a proper Malay wedding."

Haryf smirked. "You should consider yourself lucky. You get to eat Johorean food today."

True enough, the buffet spread was impressive—a feast of nasi minyak, ayam masak merah, dalca, and satay.

Jia Xin tentatively took a spoonful of the kuah dalca, eyes widening. "Oi. This is good."

"Told you."

As the day went on, Haryf introduced Jia Xin to various relatives—uncles, aunts, distant cousins he barely remembered. Many of them, upon learning he was Jia Xin’s boyfriend, simply nodded in acceptance before launching into teasing questions about marriage.

By 3 PM, most of the guests had arrived, and the wedding was in full swing.

The moment the jom panggil pengantin dance session began, Jia Xin was swiftly pulled in by some of the younger cousins.

Haryf chuckled as his boyfriend awkwardly followed the steps, looking entirely out of place but adorably determined.

"You better record this!" Jia Xin called out.

"Oh, don’t worry," Haryf grinned, holding up his phone. "This is going in the family group chat."

—

A Visit to the Past

By 5 PM, after the wedding had wound down, several cars from Haryf’s immediate family decided to visit his late grandmother’s grave.

Jia Xin hesitated as they parked near the small cemetery, watching as the family stepped out one by one.

He leaned toward Haryf. "Your late grandma is buried here?"

"Yeah," Haryf murmured. "She wanted to be near her eldest son."

Jia Xin nodded slowly but said nothing more.

The family stood together, reciting doa and Yasin. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over the gravestones, and a quiet peace settled over them.

For the first time since the incident in Teluk Intan, Haryf felt something uncoil in his chest.

This was home.

And no matter what darkness tried to seep in, there would always be light to guide them back.

With a deep breath, they headed back to the cars, ready for the long drive back to Johor.