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Phuwin gently strummed a few chords on his guitar — the same one Pond had given him as a birthday present. It was with that very instrument that he had composed the melody he kept secret in his heart.
That night, he and Pond had rehearsed together for their upcoming fanday — an event they were both excited about. The rehearsal stretched until two in the morning, and, worried about his friend's exhaustion, Phuwin invited Pond to spend the night at his condo, which was closer to the GMMTV building. He also mentioned there was something he wanted to show him. Curious, the older one accepted without hesitation.
After dinner, Phuwin showered, and now it was Pond's turn. Meanwhile, Phuwin searched within himself for courage. This wasn't just any song — it was his first original composition, the one he planned to release next year as his debut single under Riser Music. But that wasn't what made him nervous.
The real reason was what the song meant. He knew that as soon as Pond heard it, he'd understand everything — every word, every note. And that... that would change everything.
It was hard to take that step now, but Phuwin felt the time had finally come. Honestly, he was tired — exhausted — of hiding everything he had felt these past few months. Finishing the song had felt like coming to a resolution with himself — a quiet confession he could no longer ignore.
He knew he'd missed his chance with Pond, and the worst part was that the loss was entirely his fault. Ever since they started working together as a BL couple, their connection had sparked naturally, almost magically. They were opposites in many ways, but they fit like magnets — different, yet irresistibly drawn to each other. The chemistry was undeniable, intense. And Phuwin liked it... he really liked what they had.
Damn it, Pond was the perfect partner. And maybe that's exactly why Phuwin got scared. He tried to run from his own feelings, to pretend none of it was real.
Deep down, he always knew — Pond had a thing for him. It was subtle, but there, in the lingering glances, the soft smiles, the gentle care even in the smallest gestures. But Pond was new to the industry, and their closeness was amplified by their pairing. Phuwin figured maybe his friend was just confused. And maybe he was too. So he chose not to risk it.
He closed his eyes. Pretended not to see.
But his biggest mistake was running away. He started dating a close friend — a desperate attempt to normalize what he felt, to smother what he didn't want to admit. It lasted only a few months. Phuwin still remembered Pond's face when he told him about the relationship: a weak, forced smile and eyes glimmering with tears that never fell.
That haunted him.
The truth is, it wasn't a real relationship — more like a friends-with-benefits situation. He and Mel quickly realized it made no sense to keep going and ended things peacefully, without resentment. But what Phuwin hadn't been ready for was what came next.
Pond got into a relationship too.
With an older woman. Beautiful, charismatic — a singer. And Phuwin had an obvious, almost irrational dislike for her. It was as if her presence confirmed everything he tried to deny.
Seeing Pond with her was like taking a blow straight to the chest.
That relationship was complicated — and Phuwin knew it. He knew Pond often came back stressed, drained... and he also knew why. Kate was the jealous, possessive type. And to make matters worse, so was he.
There was a time when the two of them practically competed for Pond's attention — shamelessly. Phuwin admits he didn't handle it well during the early months of that relationship. But damn... his emotions were hanging by a thread. He had gotten used to being the only one on the receiving end of those smiles, that care, the quiet affection. From the beginning, Pond had treated him like something rare, precious — like Phuwin was made of glass and gold.
An only child and a textbook Cancer, Phuwin never learned how to share what truly mattered to him. And Pond... Pond mattered way too much.
During the promotions for Never Let Me Go, he was immature. He teased Pond to the limit, tested his reactions, pushed the boundaries of professionalism with little games, staged touches, and stares that lingered too long. There was something almost satisfying about knowing he could still stir something in Pond. But he wasn't proud of it.
In the end, he paid the price.
Kate, of course, didn't like it — and Pond, under pressure, pulled away. Their public interactions faded, and in the months that followed, a kind of silence set in. Not exactly between them, but in the space where there used to be easy laughter and genuine closeness.
And then came that day at the aquarium.
Phuwin felt it all come rushing back.
That strange, melancholic feeling that Pond was still his partner, his friend... but never entirely his again.
That sense of loss had started burning in his chest months before, when he kept inviting Pond to visit the aquarium with him — but Pond never had time for Phuwin anymore. He scheduled and canceled, over and over. Then they finally found a date. The younger boy was so excited, full of expectations. Just the two of them, walking through the aquarium. It was cheesy, and Phuwin knew it.
But in his mind, he and Pond were like two little goldfish.
Beautiful, fragile, and made to swim together in the same small universe.
Maybe that's what BL pairings do — they place two glittering fish in a clear tank, under the constant gaze of fans, swimming in circles, always together, always close. It's easy to mistake that closeness for fate. But Phuwin hadn't been confused. He had just been too scared to believe.
He had seen Pond as his golden fish from the very beginning — the one he wanted to watch forever, protect, and take care of.
But that day at the aquarium... everything changed.
A day that was supposed to be just theirs. A break between shoots, away from cameras, from fans, from scripts. Phuwin had planned everything carefully: the tickets, the quietest route, even a playlist to play in the car. He knew he was too detail-oriented — but didn't Pond like that about him?
Only Pond didn't show up. Hours later, a short, rushed message came through: "Sorry, my stomach's upset. Ate something weird yesterday."
Phuwin read the message three times. He knew the previous night had been a dinner with Kate. He knew she'd been trying to get close again, he knew everything — and maybe that's why he felt the ground split open beneath him like a cold, sharp crack.
And there, standing in front of the glowing blue tank, surrounded by families, couples, and children running around, Phuwin understood.
They could swim side by side, yes. Like two goldfish in the same glass tank, gliding next to each other, always seemingly in sync. But the world was bigger than that aquarium.
And maybe Pond was already swimming in another direction.
And in the end... he'd be left behind, standing there with his eyes fixed on a pair of little goldfish swimming together, as if the entire universe fit inside that tiny tank.
But life was like that. You reap what you sow. And he knew — it was him who built the wall between them. It was him who ran away first.
Now, Phuwin understood his sad reality with painful clarity. He knew Kate had been pressuring Pond more and more. He knew their relationship was becoming serious, and that the rumors about them were growing louder every day.
And him... he was living each day of their partnership trying to absorb every last bit. Trying to imprint every smile, every improvised touch, every shared scene into memory.
Phuwin just wanted Pond to know.
That it was okay.
That it was his fault.
But that he'd always be there — whole, open, rooting for Pond... even from afar.
Now, with the guitar in his hands and the sound of the shower water filling the silence of the apartment, Phuwin took a deep breath. His heart hurt, but he didn't hesitate anymore.
He didn't want to hide anymore.
Didn't want to silence that song, that confession.
That love.
When Pond came out of the bathroom, hair still damp and a shirt too big for his athletic frame, Phuwin would sing.
Even if it didn't change anything.
Even if Pond said nothing.
Even if it was already too late.
He was still his little goldfish.
And even if they were in separate aquariums now, Phuwin wanted him to know.
He would always remember them swimming together.
Pond stepped out of the bathroom slowly, his hair still damp, a towel draped around his neck as he lazily ran it through his strands. He wore a loose black t-shirt and gray shorts — simple, comfortable, completely at ease.
He paused for a second at the end of the hallway, taking in the scene in front of him.
Phuwin was sitting on the couch, the guitar resting on his lap, his fingers gently placed on the strings, as if hesitating between playing a note or saying nothing at all.
His gaze wasn't focused on anything in particular, but there was something in his expression...
A mixture of longing and resolve.
Pond tilted his head slightly, curious, and took a few steps forward, still drying his hair with the towel. When he was just a few feet away, he spoke softly, almost as if not to disturb the stillness in the room:
— "Hey..." — he smiled gently, warm — "Working on something new?"
Phuwin slowly lifted his eyes. For a moment, he didn't answer.
He looked caught between the sound of Pond's voice and the rapid beating of his own heart.
— "Actually..." — he adjusted the guitar, trying not to seem nervous — "This one's already finished. I... I wanted to show it to you."
Pond sat beside him on the couch, legs crossed, eyes attentive, his smile now softer.
— "Is it the Riser song? The one you said you'd release next year?"
Phuwin nodded. His fingers finally touched the strings, drawing a timid chord from them, like he was warming up his heart before a confession.
— "Yeah. But there's something about it..." — he exhaled, laughing without humor — "I've never shown it to anyone. I mean, I shared a few parts with Fourth, he helped me write a few verses, but even he hasn't heard the full thing yet."
Pond remained silent, honoring the moment. His smile faded, his eyes completely focused on Phuwin, as if he was the only thing that existed in the world.
— "So it's special," he murmured. "And you want to share it with me."
Phuwin nodded again.
Silence fell heavily for a moment, but it was a good silence. Dense. Honest.
— "Because... it's kind of about you. About us. I don't want to scare you." — Phuwin confessed.
Pond didn't react immediately. But his eyes shimmered, and the hand holding the towel froze mid-air. For a moment, he was completely still, as if trying to grasp what he had just heard — and how his heart seemed to understand before his mind did.
Phuwin looked down, fingers pressing the guitar strings as if they could hold the weight of the vulnerability he had just laid bare.
Pond sat beside him, the warm, steady touch of his hand on Phuwin's shoulder saying everything words still couldn't.
Phuwin glanced at him, and the look he met was soft, but attentive — a silent invitation. A "Go ahead, I'm here."
And so he began.
His fingers moved gently across the strings, as if each chord warmed his chest for what was coming. His voice came out low, hesitant, but full of truth.
"Back then I used to have
You giving me so much love
Even when I didn't have time for you
I took you for granted, it's true
Deep down I know
It's my fault we let this love slip
Too far away, there's no way back
And now I feel the regret..."
Pond didn't move. The towel slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor, unnoticed. It was as if each verse stole the air from his lungs and returned only silence.
"Used to sing happy birthday to you every year
Now I can only whisper...
I hope you have a peaceful journey ahead
Even if I'm not by your side anymore
To take care of you, like before
To love you, like before
But I'll still be here
To wish you a happy birthday every year..."
Pond's throat tightened. He brought a hand to his mouth, his eyes watering almost imperceptibly — but to Phuwin, who knew him so well, it was impossible not to notice.
And he kept going, because now there was no holding back.
"Wish I could go back in time, back to the past
To fix those mistakes, to see the missed signs
But I know that's impossible
All I can do is wish you the best..."
Phuwin gripped the guitar tightly, his voice starting to falter slightly, but his soul was fully present.
"Used to sing happy birthday to you every year
Now I can only whisper...
I hope you have a peaceful journey ahead
Even if I'm not by your side anymore
To take care of you, like before
To love you, like before
But I'll still be here
To wish you a happy birthday every year..."
Pond wiped his eyes discreetly. But a tear escaped anyway.
"For you, for you, for you...
For you, for you, for you...
I hope you have a peaceful journey ahead
Even if I'm not by your side anymore
To take care of you, like before
To love you, like before
But I'll still be here..."
Phuwin felt his throat close up, but forced the last verse out, eyes shut, heart wide open.
"Used to sing happy birthday to you every year
This year, on your birthday, all I can do is wish...
That the stars in the sky shine for you
Our paths may never cross again."
When the last note faded into the air, silence fell like a thick blanket. A heavy silence, but full of meaning.
Phuwin opened his eyes slowly. He was breathing heavily, as if he had just given away a part of himself. His eyes searched for Pond's — and what he found there was devastating.
Pond was crying.
Not with loud sobs or dramatic tears, but with a quiet, deep kind of crying — the kind that hits hard when the truth finally sinks in. When you realize how much you failed to see, how much you let slip away.
— "Now you know." — Phuwin murmured, his voice low, without a hint of accusation. — "Everything."
Pond shook his head. He leaned in a little closer, until his knees touched Phuwin's. His eyes were glistening.
— "You are... the most precious person I have in this world, Phu." — he said, voice rough. — "And hearing this... this pain you've carried for so long, it tears me apart. I... I should've noticed."
Phuwin closed his eyes for a second, exhausted.
— "I don't blame you, Pond. I just... needed to let it out. Even if it's too late. Even if it changes nothing."
Pond pulled him into a tight hug. Strong. Warm. Intense.
Phuwin gave in. He buried his face in Pond's neck and cried softly — for the pain, for the relief, for the love that still lived there, even in silence.
And Pond, with his eyes closed and his arms wrapped firmly around him, made a single promise in his heart:
"I'll never let you carry this love alone again."
— "I used the birthday metaphor..." — Phuwin began, voice low and uneven. — "Because I still feel bad for not making it to your event this year."
Pond furrowed his brows slightly, as if he hadn't expected that.
— "The one for your fans..." — Phuwin went on, trying to smile faintly, though the pain slipped through his words. — "I know partners usually go. I wanted to go. I planned to go. But work came up last minute and I... I let it slip away."
He took a deep breath, lowering his gaze, as if ready to shrink into himself.
— "And now I think I'm afraid there won't be an event next year... something that would let me make it up to you. As if I missed the last chance to show that I... that I care. That I was there. Even from afar."
Silence returned, but this time Pond reacted quickly.
The silence hung for just a second — but this time, Pond didn't hesitate.
He leaned in, cupping Phuwin's face in both hands. His touch was gentle, yet firm — like he was anchoring him back to reality.
Pond's eyes were still glassy, still processing everything the song had revealed, but in that moment, standing in front of Phuwin, there was only clarity.
— "Phuwin... you know I understood it." — his voice cracked slightly, but he kept going, steady. — "And besides... there will be other events. Other moments. Because I..." — he paused, lips trembling — "I want you to be in them. Always."
A melancholic smile crossed his face as his fingers brushed gently along Phuwin's cheek.
— "My handsome man...."
Phuwin closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, trying to hold back the wave that threatened to overflow again. But he couldn't ignore the doubt pulsing in the back of his throat.
— "Are you sure... Kate's okay with this?" — he asked, voice trembling. — "I know she wants things to get more serious between you two..."
Pond's hands froze for a moment. Her name hit like a string pulled too tightly — ready to snap.
Pond slowly lowered his hands, and what followed wasn't anger — it was sadness. A quiet kind of sadness, heavy with honesty.
— "I don't know what Kate wants anymore." — he admitted, voice low, like he was confessing something he hadn't fully faced himself. — "We're... we're trying. Or at least, she is. But it's been a while since I started feeling like something got lost."
He paused for a long time. His eyes met Phuwin's again, more fragile than he ever allowed them to be in public.
— "Or maybe... maybe it was never really there to begin with." — he murmured. — "I was just trying to... I don't know. Be young. Have fun. Be normal. You had started that thing with Mel and... I didn't want to be the third wheel. I thought if I started something with Kate, distracted myself... it would work."
Phuwin listened in silence. Each word felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place — all the things he had felt but never dared to say.
— "And when you and Mel broke up, I was already with Kate. I thought I had to commit, to make it work. But I..." — Pond swallowed hard — "I never imagined you felt this way, Phuwin."
He reached out again, as if he couldn't bear the distance between them anymore.
— "I never wanted to leave you out. Never." — his voice wavered, but it still came through steady. — "I could never walk away from our partnership. From you."
Phuwin's eyes burned. It had been so long holding everything in — hiding feelings behind professionalism, behind smiles, behind excuses... and now it was all there, out in the open.
He didn't pull away from Pond's hand on his cheek. On the contrary, he leaned in just a little, as if reaching for the warmth he had always longed for.
— "I was trying to be normal too." — he whispered. — "But I always knew that with you... it was never just friendship for me."
The words came out soft, raw — but full of truth.
Pond closed his eyes for a moment. And when he opened them, a decision had begun to form — like a quiet flame igniting in the dark.
— "What if we stopped trying to be normal?" — he asked, his voice steadier now. — "And just... let it be what it really is?"
Phuwin looked at him for a long time. The answer was in his eyes, in the way he let his forehead rest gently against Pond's, breathing deep, allowing himself to be fully present.
The question lingered in the air like a shadow. It was what neither of them had dared to name since the beginning of that conversation. But Phuwin couldn't ignore it — not when what he felt was so real, so deep, and so close to impossible.
— "And Kate?" — Phuwin murmured.
Pond took a deep breath, keeping his forehead pressed to Phuwin's, as if that touch was the only thing keeping him from running again.
— "Kate is... a good person. She deserves someone who wants to be with her one hundred percent." — he said softly. — "And I... I wanted to want that. For a while, I tried with everything I had. I thought it was just a matter of effort, of time. But... the more I tried, the more I missed you."
Phuwin closed his eyes, a single tear sliding down his cheek.
— "I thought you didn't care. That you were happy." — he whispered.
Pond shook his head slowly.
— "I was hiding behind all of it, Phu. Behind a relationship that seemed right. Behind smiles. Even the dancing. But everything I did, it was like you were always there — even when you weren't." — he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. — "You're my home, Phuwin."
Phuwin's heart leapt in his chest.
— "I won't promise it'll be easy." — Pond continued, sincerely. — "But if you'll let me... I want to try. The right way. For the first time."
Phuwin let the guitar slip from his lap, resting it on the couch. This time, it was his hands that reached for Pond's face, mirroring the touch he'd received earlier. A trembling touch — but filled with care.
— "I'm so scared." — he confessed. — "But I also have so much love inside me, Pond. So much. And I'm tired of hiding it."
Pond smiled, still teary-eyed, but with his soul lighter — as if his heart had finally found its way back home.
— "Then let's take it slow. One day at a time." — he said. — "But let's go together."
Phuwin nodded, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel alone in the world.
He was home.
"I really want to kiss you right now..." Phuwin confessed, his voice low, almost a whisper. "But I know it wouldn't be right."
Pond closed his eyes for a second, as if drawing strength from within. He nodded slowly, his fingers still intertwined with Phuwin's, unwilling to let go.
"I know..." he replied with a sad smile. "I want to. So much. But you're right."
The silence between them now was filled with something new. A kind of promise. Not of uncertainty anymore, but of respect, of mutual care.
"I just need some time to sort things out with her..." Pond continued, staring at the floor for a moment, as if still trying to find the right words. "After Fanday... I promise you. I'll put an end to it. Honestly. In the way she deserves. And in the way you deserve too."
Phuwin squeezed his fingers a little tighter, feeling that promise etch itself into his heart.
"It's okay... I'll wait," he said. "Because now I know. And just that already makes me feel lighter."
Pond looked at him again, eyes brimming with tears, but full of something new. Hope. Love. Truth.
"This time, we're going to dance together, Phu. Not just on stage. In life too."
Phuwin smiled, and for the first time that night, he believed. He believed that the feeling he had kept buried for so long... finally had space to bloom.
Even if slowly. Even if they still had to wait a little longer.
Phuwin smiled softly, his eyes still locked on Pond's, as if the moment was too fragile for any sudden movement.
"So... did you like the song?" Phuwin asked, his voice laced with unexpected shyness. He looked at the guitar, his fingers gently brushing the strings, as if the instrument was the only one who truly understood him. "I started writing it at the beginning of the year, but the melody..." he took a deep breath, searching for the right words. "I could only finish it here, with this guitar. It was like it knew exactly what I needed to say."
Pond stayed silent for a moment, watching him intently. His eyes fell on the guitar, as if he too wanted to thank the instrument for being the way Phuwin's feelings found their voice. He closed his eyes, absorbing the intensity of the music still echoing in his heart.
"I didn't just like it, Phu," he finally said, voice softer now, but filled with emotion. "I felt everything. Every word, every pause. It hurt, because I realized how much you had to carry all that alone, with no one by your side to share it. But at the same time, it touched me in a way I can't even explain. I don't think I'll ever be able to hear that song without crying."
Phuwin took a deep breath, looking away for a second before whispering:
"I didn't write it to hurt you."
"I know you didn't," he said, his voice rough, choked with emotion. "And that's why it hurt in the right way. Because it was real. Because you let me see everything that was in here"—he touched his chest with an open hand—"even when I didn't deserve it."
Phuwin shut his eyes, trying to hold back the emotion threatening to overflow again. His voice came out low, almost like an apology:
"I already said I don't blame you. I know I hurt you too... even if I didn't mean to. I just... I didn't know how to hide it anymore."
Pond took a deep breath, their faces still so close that Phuwin could feel the warmth of his breath. His eyes were misty, but steady, filled with a sincerity that broke down any barrier.
"I know you don't blame me, but... I can't help feeling bad. Because I should've noticed. I should've seen what you were carrying all this time. And now..." he paused, his voice faltering for a second before steadying again, "now all I want is to do right. To listen to you. To be by your side. Because I'm not going to let you carry this alone anymore, Phu. Never again."
Phuwin bit his lip, trying to hold back the tremor rising in his throat. He looked at Pond with tear-filled eyes, as if seeing the moment with incredible clarity, as if the world had finally stopped around them.
"I waited so long to hear that..." he whispered, almost voiceless. "And now that you're here, saying it... it's like it was all worth it."
Pond gently brushed his fingers across Phuwin's face, wiping away a stubborn tear. The touch was light, reverent, as if he were touching something sacred.
"I think we should go to sleep now," Pond said softly, almost in a whisper, but with undeniable affection in his eyes. "Not because this moment has to end... but because it's already late. And because tomorrow still exists. And I want to be here for it. With you."
Phuwin nodded slowly, eyes still locked on Pond's, as if trying to store that promise in a safe place inside himself.
"Mm... you're going to sleep in my room tonight, right?" he asked, almost coyly, a timid smile forming on his lips. "I want to be close to you..."
Without waiting for a reply, Phuwin wrapped his arms around Pond's broad shoulders, nestling against him with a soft trust, revealing a side of himself few ever saw—more vulnerable, sweeter. But Pond was already familiar with it. It was as if that gesture said, "I trust you even when I don't say it out loud."
Pond smiled, pulling Phuwin closer and wrapping him in a hug full of quiet comfort.
"Of course I will," he murmured, letting his lips lightly touch the top of Phuwin's head. "Tonight, tomorrow... and every day you want me to."
They stayed there a while longer, embraced in the now quiet living room, the guitar resting beside them.
Then they walked together to the bedroom, in slow, lazy steps. And when the lights went out, there was no more distance, no more unspoken words—just the steady rhythm of two breaths finally able to rest in each other.
Shortly after the fan day, Pond kept his word: he broke up with Kate.
Unlike Phuwin's breakup with Mel — something calmer, almost silent, like a mutual goodbye between people who already knew it wasn't working — the breakup with Kate was anything but simple. She didn't take it well. She was hurt, refused any kind of conversation, and eventually cut off all contact with Pond. Maybe that was for the best. Forcing a connection where there was already pain would only bring more.
Even so, Pond and Phuwin didn't get together right away. Not because they didn't want to — but because, somehow, it felt wrong. As if there was still something between them that needed time to settle. Maybe it was respect for what each had lived through before.
So they waited.
They watched the days go by, shared silences, lingering glances, and messages that said more than they seemed to. They stayed close, but without naming it. And there was a strange beauty in that. A sweet tension. A kind of silent promise.
And then New Year's came.
And, in that turn of the calendar, beneath lights in the sky and racing hearts, they couldn't wait any longer. It was as if all the pauses had ended right there, along with the old year. As if time had finally said, "Now."
And so they went for it.
No long explanations. No fear of what would come next. Just a kiss, a touch, an embrace that sealed everything words hadn't been able to hold. It wasn't a beginning or an end. They simply became what they were always meant to be: each other's.
Now, more than a year after that New Year's Eve that changed everything, Pond and Phuwin were finally taking some time for themselves. A short trip, squeezed into gaps between chaotic schedules, never-ending commitments, and sleepless nights. It was a well-deserved break — for the body, for the mind, and most of all, for the heart.
This time, they weren't alone. Pond's brother, Tawin, had joined them on the trip with the ease of someone who had always been a quiet, solid presence — observant, protective, and, to Pond's misfortune, extremely good at making dry jokes at just the right moment. Fourth, Phuwin's best friend, was the complete opposite: loud, dramatic, and absolutely incapable of passing up a chance to tease.
And of course, their relationship was the main course.
— "Aww, how cute, you two sharing the same juice glass," Fourth said one random morning, wearing the most cynical expression. "Next thing you know, you'll be wearing the matching shirts I gave you and thanking me for bringing you together."
Phuwin rolled his eyes, but couldn't hide his smile. Pond, meanwhile, just shot his friend a threatening look — the kind that would've scared anyone years ago... except Fourth.
— "You didn't bring us together," Pond replied calmly. "You were just the chaotic narrator of the whole thing."
— "And I'm an excellent narrator, thank you very much," Fourth shot back, tossing imaginary hair over his shoulder. "Now, who's doing the brunch dishes? The lovebirds or the emotionally unstable singles?"
Tawin laughed, and Phuwin, still smiling, leaned his shoulder against Pond's, unhurried, unafraid, without the urgency from before. It was different now. They didn't need to prove anything to anyone. They were together, plain and simple. And that was enough.
— "First of all, you're the only single one here. Second, we'll do it," Phuwin said, still leaning on Pond. "But only because I know you'd break a plate if you tried."
— "Three, last time," Tawin commented with a smirk.
— "Ugh, the disrespect," Fourth sighed dramatically as he walked away. "You two are unbearable together. So cute it makes me wanna throw up rainbows. But I love you. Grossed out, but I love you."
Pond and Phuwin exchanged a knowing look, between muffled laughs and fingers naturally intertwining.
A few hours later, after laughter, improvised poses, and disastrously "spontaneous" photo attempts, Tawin and Fourth gave in to exhaustion. They went to bed, leaving the couple alone under the open sky, where the stars seemed to have come a little closer that night — just to watch what was unfolding below.
Phuwin was lying on his side on one of the loungers, eyes fixed on the constellations, while Pond sat beside him, elbows on his knees, head slightly turned toward him.
The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence full of meaning, where no words felt urgent because the moment spoke for itself.
— "I like this," Phuwin murmured, eyes still on the sky. "The way things are now. The calm. Us. It feels like... time slows down a bit when you're near."
Pond smiled softly, running his hand through Phuwin's hair with care, his fingers moving in a rhythm almost automatic — like someone who knew that gesture well.
— "We deserve this," he said. "Time just for us. No rush, no fear, no one telling us what we're supposed to feel."
Phuwin slowly turned his face, now looking straight at Pond, eyes shining in the soft starlight.
— "Are you still afraid?" he asked quietly, as if the answer could change everything — but hoping it wouldn't change anything at all.
Pond paused for a second, then shook his head.
— "No," he answered firmly. "I used to be. A lot. But now... now all I feel is the desire. To keep going with you. To see you smile like that. To build everything slowly, our way."
Phuwin smiled, his eyes still locked on Pond's, as if he could see the reflection of every silent dream he ever had.
"I feel the same way..." he murmured, his voice tinged with tenderness and certainty.
Then, in a soft, unhurried motion, he leaned in, brushing his lips against Pond's — a gentle, almost shy touch, as if he were confirming everything that had just been said with a kiss.
Pond closed his eyes and responded with the same tenderness. There was no urgency, only presence. It felt as if the world had disappeared for a few seconds, leaving only the two of them, wrapped in the night breeze.
When their lips parted, Pond kept his forehead against Phuwin's, their smiles blending into the sweet silence that surrounded them.
"I think time really did stop," he whispered with a quiet laugh. "Because right now, I can only think about how I want to stay like this forever."
Phuwin laughed too, that calm glow still in his eyes.
"We deserve this forever..." Phuwin murmured, his voice low, almost like a promise whispered to the wind.
Pond didn't reply with words. He simply leaned in again, and this time, the kiss was different — deeper, hungrier. There was still no rush, but there was want. A feeling built over looks, subtle touches, and silences filled with everything unspoken.
Phuwin returned the kiss with equal intensity, his fingers sliding up the back of Pond's neck, pulling him closer. Their hearts raced, not from fear — but from certainty. From knowing they were finally where they were meant to be.
When air became necessary and their lips separated, Phuwin looked at Pond with a different kind of spark in his eyes. There was tenderness, but also something more — a calm, mature desire that didn't need to be explained, because the path between them was already clear, known, unhurried, and fearless.
"We should go inside..." he said, his voice slightly hoarse but steady, his eyes fixed on Pond's.
Pond nodded, the corners of his lips curving into a soft smile. He stood up first, reaching his hand out to Phuwin, who took it without hesitation.
Hand in hand, they walked in silence to the bedroom. The soft sound of their footsteps on the wooden floor contrasted with the thunderous rhythm of their hearts. When the door closed behind them, the world outside ceased to exist.
Phuwin stopped in the middle of the room, his back still to Pond, as if taking a deep breath before turning around. When he did, the look he gave his partner was warm and intense. There was no hesitation anymore. Only desire.
Pond stepped closer, his fingers lightly touching the hem of Phuwin's shirt, lifting it gently, as if unwrapping something precious. Phuwin raised his arms wordlessly, eyes locked on Pond's. When the shirt hit the floor, he let his hands trail down Pond's chest, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt with teasing patience.
Pond explored Phuwin with a burning gentleness, his lips tracing a path along his neck, his hands mapping every contour of his back. Phuwin arched under his touch, giving in and guiding at the same time, their breaths mingling until they became one.
"You okay?" Pond whispered against Phuwin's temple, his voice more breath than sound, his forehead pressed to his and his hands still drawing soft circles on his skin.
"I am... with you, I always am," Phuwin answered, his smile small, confident, and mischievous.
Pond pulled him closer, and their bodies touched as their lips met again in a deep, slow kiss. His hands slid down to the waistband of Phuwin's pants, unbuttoning them with the same care, the fabric falling to the floor to join the rest.
Phuwin's heart beat wildly against Pond's chest, almost like it wanted to escape his body. He was completely open, vulnerable — but not afraid. Because in that moment, he knew he would do anything for Pond. His love was that big. Bigger than himself.
Phuwin helped Pond remove his own pants, their clothes now scattered across the floor, forgotten. On his knees, Pond let his mouth explore the soft, pale skin, tracing the shape of every muscle with his tongue, following paths he knew well by now. Phuwin closed his eyes, tilting his head back, feeling every touch as if time had once again paused just for them.
"You know me so well..." he murmured, his voice rough, while Pond gently lifted him, gripping his legs firmly.
Pond let out a low, private laugh, placing a quick kiss on Phuwin's lips before guiding him to the bed, where he laid him down carefully, straddling his legs.
"I think that's one of my best talents," he replied with a sly smile, his hands caressing Phuwin's thighs.
Phuwin felt a wave of heat run up his legs, taking over his body, as hot as the sensation of having Pond on top of him. Phuwin's tongue flicked back and forth across his lips, and in his mind there was only one thought - that he wanted all of Pond, wanted to feel him completely, as if that was the only way he could fully enjoy the moment.
He slid his hands down Pond's abdomen, pulling him closer, until he stood up on his legs and kissed him with desire, their tongues dancing and their breaths synchronized. When the kiss broke, Phuwin licked his lips and gave in.
- I want you. - he whispered, his voice low, as his fingers caressed Pond's neck.
Pond looked at him for a moment, her breathing still fast, her clear eyes fixed on his. And in that moment, the world stopped for him, and his heart beat even faster. No matter how many times he had heard this request from Phuwin before, those words always had an effect on him. He knew, deep down, that he would never get used to hearing them.
A small, mischievous smile appeared on his lips, before Pond lay down on the mattress next to Phuwin and kissed his face, his cheeks, his jaw, down the length of his neck to his collarbone.
- And me, you, always. - He whispered against the soft skin, his tongue following the path of the kisses.
When Pond raised himself on his hands, he looked directly into Phuwin's eyes, and that glow from before - intense, deep, full of feeling - returned, just for a moment. Because the contact of their lips was the only thing that mattered, the only reality he had.
It was just a touch, a desire, the union of bodies. It was just an infinite love that not even a lifetime could describe.
Phuwin's hands slid down Pond's back, his tongue exploring his lips, until both bodies were in motion, their hips moving smoothly and deliciously, their breaths mingling. And the only certainty was that little eternity built up between the sighs, the sounds of pleasure and the welcoming warmth of someone else's body.
The feeling of peace was incredible, the only one that mattered. And when the climax came, the feeling of happiness, of fullness, couldn't have been more intense.
Their bodies crushed against each other, and only one sensation remained, only one certainty: they were together.
Phuwin's eyes closed, his breathing still rapid, his fingers tracing gentle circles on Pond's abdomen. His mind clouded over, and the only thing he could think was: this was his home, and these were the arms he had always wanted to stay in.
- "I'll never tire of it," Phuwin murmured, his voice low, almost a whispered secret between the two of them.
Pond stood up a little, his eyes shining with a soft warmth. A slight smile curved his lips as he caressed Phuwin's cheek, his thumb sliding tenderly over his mouth.
- No matter the time, the place, or what life throws our way... the two of us will always find our way back to each other. Because if I didn't have you, I'd be nothing. And that's why I'll never stop loving you," he replied, his voice low and husky, soaked with emotion.
Then, with his gaze locked on Phuwin's, he added:
- I will love you at sunset, in the darkness of night, when spring blooms and the snow gives birth. And in all seasons, until the last flower on earth sings its last song.
The words hit Phuwin like a warm wave — his stomach tightened, his heart raced, and his face flushed. Pond truly had the gift of disassembling him with a simple gesture or phrase.
"Shit, I love you... I love you so much," Phuwin whispered, his voice choked with tenderness, affection, and reverence.
He kissed him again, slowly, their lips meeting with a touch filled with everything he felt — as if, in that union, he could give his whole world away.
Pond returned the kiss with the same gentleness, the same care, allowing himself to be carried away by a feeling so comforting that even the word "peace" seemed unable to describe it.
When their lips parted, he kissed Phuwin's forehead, leaving there the purest and quietest of caresses. And, even without words, their hearts spoke — the glances, the breaths, every shared gesture became a language of their own, made just for them.
Time slowed down. The night stretched out like a sacred gift.
Phuwin nestled into Pond's arms, feeling his breath slowly calm, his eyes closing in comfort. Pond stroked his hair, drawing slow circles on his bare back until Phuwin completely surrendered to the serene exhaustion that surrounded him.
And to the sound of the gentle wind outside, the night wrapped around them. Their hearts beat in the same rhythm, a silent song only for the two of them.
It was just that moment. Just that embrace. But it was perfect.
Because they both knew — with their souls, with every cell, with every piece of love stored in their hearts — that there would be other nights like this. Because no matter where they were or what fate had in store... they would always be each other's home. They would never be lost again. Once had been enough to understand for good that their hearts belonged in the same place.
Phuwin went to pick up Pond after the rehearsal for his boyband, Jasper. The room was still filled with voices, laughter, and scattered instruments as the group slowly dispersed.
"I'll need to stay a bit longer," Pond said, adjusting the damp strands of hair from his forehead with a towel. "What are you going to do? Are you going to wait for me here?"
"I think I could go home... but I can wait for you, if you want," Phuwin replied, with a light smile.
"No need, I don't want to mess up your plans."
Phuwin tilted his head, his eyes steady on Pond's.
"My plans today are just you and me. Together. I'll wait for you here, okay?"
Pond smiled softly, touched. He stepped closer and kissed Phuwin's cheek, lingering for a second longer, feeling the warm softness of his skin.
"Then we'll talk later."
Phuwin nodded and watched Pond disappear through the door, leaving just him and a pile of equipment in the dim, quiet room.
With a calm sigh, Phuwin picked up the guitar leaning against the wall and started strumming, randomly testing chords. He thought this would be a good time to practice — maybe learn a new song. After all, melody could always speak for itself, in any language.
As he tried to recall the song Pond had taught him weeks ago, he began to hum softly, his voice almost a whisper. The verses slowly came back, as if they were tucked away in a special corner of his memory.
Sitting on the floor, eyes closed, Phuwin let himself be carried away by the sound and the memory of Pond's touch. Waiting, for him, was different now. Not because he was his boyfriend — but because every shared second mattered. It had always been this way between them, even before they started dating. Now, it was just better, in a different way.
And even though he knew the other boyband members were just friends of his boyfriend, and his own coworkers, especially Santa, Phuwin didn't hide his possessive side. A trait that was hard to tame — he admitted. But there was something comforting in the way Pond not only accepted it but liked it. They fit together in an almost ironic way: one's silent jealousy, welcomed with a laugh and a kiss from the other.
So, the moment a light breeze crossed the room and the familiar scent of Pond filled the air, Phuwin knew — even before opening his eyes — that he was back.
"Phu," Pond called, smiling from the door, his voice soft. "Want to come see the choreography we just finished?"
Phuwin opened his eyes, the smile already forming before he even answered. He stood up, setting the guitar aside, his heart light.
Phuwin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, as the music began to fill the room again. The beat was intense, rhythmic, almost hypnotic. In the center of the studio, Pond moved with a fluidity that bordered on provocative, his muscles outlined by the thin t-shirt, and the shine of sweat making every movement even more magnetic.
Phuwin tried to keep his expression neutral, but his eyes betrayed him. They followed each of Pond's movements as if drawn by gravity — the way his hips marked the beat, his shoulders flexing with precision, and the focused look that traced the mirror in front of him. But Phuwin knew that, every now and then, those eyes would subtly shift in his direction, as if testing the limits of his sanity.
He bit his lower lip, trying to hide the heat rising through his body. It was impossible to pretend he wasn't affected.
Pond took firm steps, turning with almost arrogant precision, his hair sticking lightly to his forehead, his neck exposed and tense. Phuwin swallowed hard. There was something cruel in the way his boyfriend moved — whether conscious or not, Pond knew exactly what he was doing to him.
When the music reached the chorus, Pond loosened up, his hips marking the time with firmness, and his arms describing graceful paths that seemed designed to seduce. And, in that moment, Phuwin was no longer just watching the choreography.
He was desiring.
His chest rose and fell slowly, and the room felt too hot for late afternoon. Phuwin shifted in place, feeling the tension vibrating under his skin. The worst — or maybe the best — was that Pond knew. He knew how his movements made Phuwin burn. And even though the other members of the boyband were still around, it didn't matter. The dance might have been for the audience, but Pond's gaze was only for him.
When the music ended, Pond turned lightly and walked toward him, their eyes locking with perfect accuracy. A small, mischievous smile appeared on his lips, as if he already knew the answer.
"Did you like it?"
Phuwin didn't respond immediately. His steps were slow, firm, until the distance between them almost disappeared. The sweet smell of Pond's sweat mixed with the soft fragrance he wore seemed to ignite the air around them. When he spoke, his voice was low, filled with contained desire.
"If you dance like that again, Pond... I swear I'll drag you out of here right now."
The laugh that came from Pond was low, provocative, filled with that confidence that only he could exude. He leaned in until his lips almost touched Phuwin's ear and whispered:
"Then maybe I should dance again... just to see what you'll do."
Phuwin smiled with his eyes, dangerously calm. He didn't need to respond with words. Not there. Not with everyone around. Because, even though they were in public, they both knew that this was just the prelude.
The night was still just beginning — and later, at the apartment, Phuwin would make sure to show exactly what that dance had awakened inside him.