CallMeLee

Lol! I mean this figuratively. Maybe because his sister and friend are with us, so he acts a bit differently compared if it's just the two of us.

Woke up still wrapped in the warmth of last night. Min was sound asleep beside me, one arm across the pillow, hair a little messy, looking like someone who had zero interest in the Songkran chaos outside. I didn’t move for a while. Just lay there, feeling that rare kind of peace and quiet . When we finally stirred and made our way downstairs for breakfast, he was back to his usual self—quiet, polite, and flashing those soft smiles that somehow made the air around us feel calmer. There was something deeply relaxing about his presence. No demands. Just chill. After breakfast, he headed off, and I started getting ready to meet his older brother, T, over at the Starbucks in Surawong. Just as I was stepping out of the room, I got a message from him saying he was up and getting ready too. Down in the hotel parking, the staff were clearly in Songkran mode. Buckets tucked behind the counter, people already a little wet, music playing faintly from someone’s speaker. The housekeeping auntie—who I’ve grown fond of—walked over holding a small container of something grey and smeared it across my cheeks with expert confidence. It smelled earthy, fresh, a little sweet. Later Raposa would tell me it was sandalwood paste, part tradition, part cooling agent, part “let’s make tourists look like locals.” I stayed for a bit, chatting, laughing, letting their playful energy rub off on me. Over at Starbucks, I grabbed my second coffee and settled in. T arrived looking like he hadn’t yet been claimed by the water war. I got him a drink, and he gave my outfit a once-over—shorts, waterproof pouch, sandals. He seemed satisfied, though he noted I wasn’t packing coins for water refills. He said don't worry he'll be taking care of it. He just quietly handled things and I like that vibe from him. That’s kind of his thing. We headed through Patpong, which in broad daylight felt surreal. The whole place looked like it was taking a nap—shuttered bars, neon signs turned off, a few shopkeepers hosing down their sidewalks. It felt more like a movie set after wrap than the fever-dream it usually becomes at night. At Silom, we stopped to get proper soakers. The stall had everything from tiny pistols to full-blown backpack cannons. I picked a decent mid-range one, something that said "I came to play" but not "I have unresolved rage issues." Before I could even reach for my wallet, T had already paid for both of us. He shrugged it off saying I can pay him later, no fuss. And then came the surprise: we wouldn’t just be a duo. Min was joining us again, along with their younger sister and her Vietnamese friend, who’d flown in specifically for Songkran. The dynamic shifted quickly. I suddenly felt like I was part of a family outing I hadn’t been officially invited to. Two brothers, a sister, a guest. And me—the wildcard. It hit me for a moment. How do I fit here? Do I introduce myself as the guy who just woke up next to your brother? The one who’s now tagging along with the other one? It was absurd and vaguely hilarious being the mystery guest among siblings. And not just any guest—the guy who's slept with at least two of them. Internally, I panicked. What’s the etiquette here? "Hi, I’m the guy from your brothers’ shared folder?" But the feeling didn’t last long. The girls were chatty and disarming. They pulled me in effortlessly. Min, maybe because he was with family, was more playful than I’d seen him—joking around, tossing water like he had a score to settle. T kept checking on me in his quiet way. Making sure I wasn’t lagging, that I had enough water, that I was having fun. He didn’t hover, but he was always near. Silom was already packed. Buckets being flung from everywhere, hoses spraying down strangers, foam cannons blasting into the air. It was overcast, with a bit of drizzle, which made everything feel cool and almost cinematic. No one was spared. Old women. Kids. Tourists. Everyone got drenched and no one cared. Music pounded from storefronts, the kind of repetitive EDM that makes you forget what time it is. We walked the full length of the road and back. My shirt clung to my skin. Water pooled in my sandals. I was freezing and grinning like a fool. The crowd was just right—not yet overwhelming, but still electric. Eventually, back near Saladaeng, the group decided they’d had enough. The girls looked happy, Min seemed ready to hibernate, and the energy had mellowed. One by one, they started to head off. T said he was heading home too—to his own place, which I learned wasn’t the same one Min stays in. We stood there a bit, just the two of us now. He didn’t seem in a hurry, but he wasn’t lingering either. I felt a pull—not dramatic, just a quiet nudge that said I wasn’t quite ready to be alone yet. Maybe it was how he'd looked after me all day. Maybe I just wanted to end the day on my own terms. So I asked if he wanted to come back to my place instead. It wasn’t rehearsed. I didn’t dress it up. I just asked. And I meant it in that very specific way where you're not asking for more, but you're hoping the moment lasts a little longer. He looked at me, calm as ever, and nodded. That was enough. Back at the hotel, we peeled off our soaked clothes and we showered off the grime, the chalky paste, and whatever questionable liquid had landed on us earlier. The hot water felt like a full-body reset. No rush, no expectations. When we finally collapsed into bed, it wasn’t about anything but rest. No deep talk. No big moment. Just two people wiped out from the same strange, happy kind of day.

I totally get the appeal of keeping rates verbal—it gives both sides flexibility and avoids awkwardness upfront. But I’d say the sticker shock some guys get when they see the rates written down say at Toyboys isn’t necessarily a bad thing—it’s just the market doing its thing. Whether the rate’s quoted by the boy or printed on a menu, if it feels high compared to what people expect in Pattaya, there’s going to be a reaction. The written format just makes that reaction more immediate. So really, that bit of surprise is useful—it reflects real-time feedback on where the market thinks the price should be. Of course, I’m probably showing naivety in assuming the bars are always on the pulse with market sentiment and listen to feedback... 😉

If I could have my way, it’d be nice if bars had a system like some of the massage shops do—set minimum rates/tips for short time and long time offs. It would save a lot of back-and-forth and help manage expectations on both sides. At least then you’d know the baseline before even starting the conversation, and you can just add to the minimum accordingly based on your satisfaction. It also protects the guys against those horrific situations I’ve heard about where the customer refuses to tip or just give them 100 Baht after the deed, claiming they were told the off fee was the full payment.

Yes, there's a third brother and I met him with his other mates last year as T and I were going out of that 7-11 near Raya. T did mention that he's also for hire but I didn't really entertained the thought.

So sorry fam! I got the older brother written as Boy-Tony in my Line account. And both of them respond back when I call them as Tony and Min ---- maybe they are just being polite and don't want to correct me 😁😁😁

T sometimes introduce himself as Boy.

Yeah, overall T is good company. From my experience, he initially came off as someone who’d try to squeeze as much money as possible from you—but I guess that’s pretty common with bar guys. One incident that stands out: he once claimed I had agreed to pay him 5,000 for an ST, which wasn’t true. That led to him getting sent back to rotation and me offing someone else. Since then, he’s become more of an “up to you” type rather than quoting ridiculous amounts. One good thing about his “hustling” nature is that when we go out, he always looks after me and makes sure to negotiate prices—he’s worried I’ll get charged tourist rates if I speak English. He’s Vietnamese but speaks Thai fluently, like his brother. That said, between the two, I find the younger one more endearing and less transactional.

I did but separately. But given how openly they talk about and suggested offing them as a pair, I would say it has happened before. Yes! From Da Nang according to them. True but I think even with the decline of that "informal charm", given Tawan/The One's small intimate space, the chance of making contact and having small talk with several guys has always been a given every visit. Different case with Atlas where the guys have their own spot to congregate and the space to guys ratio is so big it's so easy to be isolated in a corner and be/feel invisible.

Agree with T being a hustler and he did attempted some of his tricks prior and even more recently. My approach has always been consistent either send him back to the rotation and not invite him to sit with me even when he's giving me googly eyes from the stage or even brazenly approach me to buy him a drink. Overall, he's good company to hang out with outside the bar. Yes, Min is really cute. He's still on the slender side but I can see he's attempt to bulk up a bit.

I woke up with Nam still fast asleep beside me. I slipped out of bed like a thief in the night, careful not to wake him, and made myself a coffee. I sat on the chair next to the bed, sipping slowly, just watching him. There’s something quietly captivating about seeing someone you were tangled up with the night before sleeping so peacefully—like a living postcard from the night that was. A few minutes later, Nam stirred, opened his eyes, smiled lazily, and beckoned me to come back in. I didn’t need a second invitation. I climbed back into bed, and we melted into each other for a while, just holding, letting the warmth linger. When he finally sat up, I asked what he wanted for breakfast. He declined at first—just coffee, he said. But then his eyes caught the stash of bread on the counter. He pointed and asked if he could have some. Of course. We munched quietly, talked a bit more, and somewhere between the last slice and the last sip, things took a familiar turn again. This time, more than cuddling—slow, lazy touches evolving into something deeper. We exchanged Line before he left. He said I should invite him if I want to “play water” during Songkran. The way he said it, with that little grin, made it sound like the invite might involve more than just water. That afternoon, I wandered over to Arena for a little extracurricular activity. I arrived too early—the lineup looked disappointing in terms of quality and quantity . I was told to come back in an hour, which I did. On round two, the energy picked up. I picked a guy named Tom and we headed to the room. As soon as we got in, he told me to shower first because he needed to get something. He must have sensed my disappointment as he quickly backpedaled with a smile and offered to join me in the shower instead. Much better. Nothing new to report on the Arena front. It’s as solid and predictable as ever—my dependable go-to when I want something quick and uncomplicated. The prices are reasonable, the quality decent, and the location perfect if you’re staying around Silom. Saphan Khwai still wins on variety, but I’ll take Arena’s reliability any day. Afterwards, I made a quick trip to Central Rama 3 to pick up some groceries and supplies, then headed back to the hotel. The rest of the afternoon slipped by without much fuss—just lounging, resting, letting the day exhale. As night rolled in, I had zero plans. I found myself drifting toward Dreamboys, where a tout pulled me in with the usual promise. Same old vibe inside—pulsing music, glowing lights, and some familiar faces back in rotation. Looks like their “Thai-only” phase is over. A few boys I knew from Goodboy who now moved back to Dreamboys came over to say hi, but the mood just wasn’t landing for me. I left in under thirty minutes. I walked back toward Goodboys. Tee and Emma were outside, so I stopped to chat. Tee looked worn out—still clearly recovering. I felt a pang of concern. Inside, the energy was low-key, and Tee led me to my usual spot with my usual Diet Coke. Emma came over and, in classic Emma fashion, immediately asked how things went with Nam. I glanced across the room and spotted Nam already seated with a customer—next to number 42, who I had been eyeing for the night. So much for that plan. Nam walked over to give me a hug and say hi. He said he wasn’t sure if his customer would off him. I nodded, but my eyes had already moved elsewhere. That’s when I saw Min. T’s brother. Cute, sweet, and always a little too shy for me. I’ve seen him many times before, invited him to sit when his brother was around, but never offed him. I used to think pairing two introverts was a bad idea—we’d just end up sitting in silence, awkwardly sipping our drinks. But tonight, Min looked different. More relaxed. Chatty. Even flirtatious. Laughing with other boys, making jokes, clearly more comfortable in his own skin. Something had shifted, and suddenly I couldn’t take my eyes off him. We caught each other’s gaze, and he smiled. I motioned for him to come over. He greeted me with a wai and a hug. “Welcome back,” he said. I asked if he remembered me. He laughed. “You’re brother’s friend.” Not wrong. A moment later, T joined us too—he had just come back from an early off. He plopped down next to us and immediately started joking about making more money tonight. Min, meanwhile, was doing the most. Playfully moving my hands over places usually reserved for later. Flirting without holding back. At one point, he loudly claimed he’s bigger than his brother. T laughed and tossed it back: “He’s offed me before—he can be the judge.” I wanted to crawl under the table. What was this? A family feud with cock measuring as the main event? I don't want to be part of this sibling rivalry! Min left to change into his street clothes while T shifted gears, pretending to be hurt I didn’t tell him I was in town. We made plans to meet the next day for some Songkran fun in Silom. Then Mai—my long-time crush—came down from the Big Cock Show to collect tips. Naturally, I was ready with my wallet. Outside, Min and I waited for our Grab. My phone rang—it was the driver, and I panicked. Min calmly took the phone, answered in Thai, and handled everything like a pro. Turns out he used to sell sugarcane juice on the street and picked up the language that way. Somehow, that made him even hotter. Back at the hotel, we chatted a bit more and eventually undressed without saying much, both of us smiling like we already knew where the night was heading. We took a shower together started with lingering touches turning into kisses. In bed, he was nothing like the shy boy I remembered. He was playful, confident, a little cheeky even teasing me with his mouth, whispering things I didn’t expect from someone who used to barely make eye contact. He took his time, and so did I. It was tender, but not timid. He kissed like he meant it, moved with purpose, responded to every touch with a soft sigh or a smile. When he straddled me, looking down with that mix of sweetness and mischief, I knew I had completely misread him before. Afterwards, we lay there, still skin against skin, the room quiet except for our breathing. He rested his head on my chest, and I just stared at the ceiling, grinning like a fool. I had no idea this was what I’d end up with tonight—but damn, I’m glad I did.

Decided to ease into the day and take it slow—no adventures below the belt, at least while the sun’s up. Figured I owed it to my upper and lower back, which has been quietly screaming since that long-haul economy flight. I’d been bouncing around Bangkok without a proper massage, which in hindsight felt like a form of self-neglect. Found a massage shop not far from the hotel. Nothing shady, just a legit setup with calming music and an actual menu where “oil massage” meant oil massage, not a coded invitation. Signed up for a two-hour oil session with a body scrub thrown in for good measure. The masseuse, bless her, had this perfect balance of grace and power. Those long, slow strokes that coax your muscles into submission, plus the occasional elbow that found every buried knot I didn’t know I had. I came dangerously close to nodding off more than once. When it was over, I floated out of there feeling like I’d been steamed, basted, and reset. My skin was glowing, my jetlag had vanished, and for once my shoulders weren’t attempting to fuse with my ears. Back at the hotel, I just... lounged. Let that post-massage blisd linger. Ignored the growing pile of Line messages from massage shops with tempting offers. But I told myself to chill. I didn’t come all the way to Bangkok just to rush from one boy to another like a horny hummingbird (maybe I do but not on a daily basis? Lol). Sometimes you’ve got to just soak in the stillness. Once evening rolled around, I rallied and headed out to meet @Raposa at Have a Zeed in Silom Complex. First time linking up with a fellow forum member, so I was excited and curious. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Raposa turned out to be a great guy! easy-going, quick with a joke, and a solid conversationalist. We hit it off immediately, chatting about everything from the quirks of the Bangkok scene to our favorite travel spots. He wasn’t just a fellow forum member------he was someone you’d actually want to hang out with. A perfect balance of laid-back and insightful, which made for an enjoyable dinner and even better company as we swapped stories about past trips, mishaps, and of course, some bar gossip. After dinner, we moved to the bar beneath Hotmale since it's too early to head inside, but the street-side seating is perfect for people-watching. The boys started rolling in, tight tees clinging in all the right places, sneakers hitting the cracked pavement of Patpong with that slow, deliberate swagger. No pretense, just streetwise charm and easy sex appeal, the kind that fits right in with the buzz of motorbikes, neon glare, and the persistent shriek from hustlers trying to reel in a passing tourist. It wasn’t polished. it was raw, alive, and sexy in that unmistakably Bangkok way. Eventually, we wandered over to Dragon and Koi. Chatted with Pi and one of his mates while the shows cycled through their dance routines. Somewhere in between drinks, I got a Line message from James (last night’s boy) saying he’d seen me with a friend and wondered if I wanted company again tonight. I laughed. Sweet guy, but I wasn’t looking to run it back just yet. Variety is kind of the point, isn’t it? We made our way to Good Boy after that. And there he was—---Mai—---sitting right by the door eating dinner like a scene straight out of my dreams. He hadn’t been around during my last visit, so seeing him now was a very unexpected treat. He looked up as we approached, gave a casual smile, and I swear I felt my face flush. It was ridiculous, like I was in some adolescent romcom. There’s just something about him. his energy, that effortless charm that hits me square in the chest. Total schoolboy crush territory, and completely off-limits. The place was packed, and we ended up with one of those horribly positioned tables where you need to rotate your neck like a barn owl to see the stage. I only bothered with the contortions when Mai came out during the Big Cock show. Couldn’t not watch. When he came down after to collect tips, I made sure our table got his attention. Of course I tipped. How could I not? Once my Mai moment was ticked off for the night, it was time to turn my attention elsewhere. Raposa had already locked in his choice and was deep in conversation. Looked like they were either negotiating an off or the merits of neo liberal fiscal policy. I spotted a guy with a warm smile and a relaxed vibe, waved him over mostly to avoid looking like Raposa’s lonely wingman. He introduced himself as Nam, from Vietnam. This trip’s theme,as I will later realise was unintentionally, going to be “Boys from Vietnam and Myanmar,” and I’m not mad about it. Nam didn’t waste any time. He slid in close, his hand casually resting on mine, leaning in to whisper something soft in my ear. A kiss on my neck, a slow, teasing move that made it clear what he was after placing my hands strategically to make his case compelling. There was no talk of long time, just a mutual understanding that tonight was about keeping it simple and easy. After the whirlwind of last night, a quick and uncomplicated encounter seemed more than appealing. Raposa wrapped up his deal around the same time. We paid our off fees, shook hands like soldiers in the trenches, then went our separate ways. Each with a boy on our arm and a story to tell for next time.

Same experience here. Also, what I observed was that the notices posted in these properties made it sound like it will be us the guests who will be prosecuted/penalised if things go pear shaped.

I'm a bit challenged when it comes to directions as well. Both Freshboys and Hotmale have their guys wearing white shorts. If you happen to see a shower setup on stage, then you probably went to Freshboys. You also mentioned a packed crowd so my spider sense is again pointing towards Freshboys!

Thanks. Hardly a professional writer. But I recently learned to feed my ramblings and writings to a proofreading app before uploading. I re-read my previous trip reports and I was horrified with the spelling and grammatical errors. I can imagine you guys popping a couple of Tylenol after reading through my reports. 🤣 😂