Archive of Our Own ^beta

Firstone feels bad, he really does. 

The feeling settled deep in his chest. It is like a quiet ache that doesn’t fade no matter how much he tries to justify himself. It’s not just guilt per se it’s regret layered with worry. He realized that he’s already hurt someone he never meant to hurt in the first place, P’Tle and Latte. 

Although they remained civil and still friends. He is obsessively going back over and over replaying every conversation he had, including all remaining unsaid words left to be spoken, every decision he could have made sooner than he did. He thought to himself "When did things start to fall apart?" 

So, he did what he thought was best. His fingers closed around his phone before doubt could catch up to him, he pressed Latte’s line from his contacts, thumb hovering for a split second before pressing the call button. The line rang once. Twice. By the third ring, the familiar sound of Latte’s voice filled his ear Firstone finally released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding for what felt like forever.

"Hello, what's up?"

The simple greeting hit him harder than he expected. Firstone swallowed yet his throat remained painfully dry, as if all the words he’d rehearsed had evaporated the moment Latte answered. He tried to speak, but he had to close his mouth again as his heart started racing on him. His breath was loudly audible in an otherwise quiet room.

“P’First, are you there?” Latte’s voice shifted, his concern is threading through the softness of his voice. There was a brief pause in his sentence which is followed by, “What’s the problem?”

Something in Firstone’s chest tightened the moment he heard latte being concerned. Firstone squeezed his grip on the phone, making his knuckles turn pale. His heart pounded so fast that he feared Latte would hear it through the phone. Firstone breathed deeply, seeking composure since there was no use turning back now that he had extended a hand. 

"I-I am alright, Te, can we meet?" 

The words came out softer than he intended, uneven at the edges, but they were enough. Once Latte agreed, Firstone didn’t linger. 

He ended the call quickly, as if staying on the line any longer might unravel what little composure he had left. The screen went dark in his hand, leaving the room feeling strangely empty again.

Firstone chose the location carefully. It was a small coffee shop off the beaten path of the main streets; it would only be discovered by people already familiar with the place, peaceful and without much attention. Exactly where he wanted to be able to sit with Latte across the table without concern about whispers or headlines.

For a moment, he considered a bar instead. God knew this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have sober. The thought of letting alcohol dull the edges and loosen his tongue to make this easier, was tempting. But he dismissed it just as quickly. He couldn’t afford such recklessness.

He was a public figure now. Whether he liked it or not, everything came with consequences. His career was only just beginning, the last thing he needed was a careless mistake turning into an issue he couldn’t explain away. Not now. Not when everything he’d worked for was finally within reach.

Even though the DMD Friendship reality show ended with the closing of the curtains as the lights went out, Firstone remained plagued by doubts about his choice. Choosing himself, though ostensibly a good move, weighed heavily on Firstone’s chest, as a reminder that, even as it was best for him, there were moral implications that came with it. The tension lingered even after the show came to an end, lingering in Firstone’s mind during quiet moments when there was nothing else on his mind.

He knew he had hurt not one, but two people. The both of whom had become unexpectedly important in a short amount of time. Just in Latte’s case, not exactly a short time. He’d known Latte for months, long enough for familiarity to turn into something steady and reliable. They’d shared one or two projects building a comfortable rhythm that the company had noticed almost immediately. It didn’t take long before they were quietly decided on as one of the couples, a pairing with potential and with promise of a future until Tle happened.

That was when everything shifted.

The plan the company had set their eyes on began to blur, and so did Firstone’s certainty. What had once felt straightforward became complicated, tangled with emotions he hadn’t anticipated and choices he hadn’t prepared himself to make. 

And now, sitting alone with the aftermath, he couldn’t help but wonder if choosing himself had really been the bravest option or just the one that hurt the least in the moment.

Tle came into his life like a hurricane. He came so sudden, powerful, and impossible to ignore. He had no gentle introduction, it was just the kind of presence that tore through everything Firstone thought he understood and left him reeling in its wake. 

Reckless as it was, Firstone found himself drowning in the idea of what Tle could be. He is clinging to the possibility rather than the reality. Firstone is like a moth drawn helplessly toward a flame it knew might burn. He could almost taste the promise of tomorrow Tle spoke of so easily and so confidently, a future painted in hopeful words and fearless certainty. It was intoxicating and terrifying, all at once. 

As Firstone thought about the things that he was feeling but couldn’t express, he felt confused and conflicted. In fact, not being able to express the confusion and conflicting emotions he felt had helped him to reach out to P’Aof.

Firstone realized that by reaching out to P’Aof to ask for advice, he felt less vulnerable than if he had admitted to himself that he had already made a subconscious decision with his heart and he was just trying to convince himself otherwise.

At the café, Firstone is seated in the back corner, hiding among mismatched chairs and soft-spoken conversations that are occurring, so as not to be seen by anyone who might have been sitting near him.

Talking to Latte privately and without an audience, felt necessary. He wasn’t here to be persuaded or to change his mind; he just needed the space to breathe, to exist without the pressure of expectations pressing in on him from every side.

After all, coming here already meant something. It meant he had reached a decision, even if he hadn’t fully said it out loud yet. The conversation with P’Aof had helped more than he cared to admit, grounding him when his thoughts had been spiraling, reminding him that clarity sometimes came only after honesty.

Now, all that was left was to talk to Latte to finally put into words the things that had been weighing on him for far too long. He owed him that much. Before he could turn the page, before he could step into this new chapter of his life, he needed to face the past head-on, even if it meant hurting both of them in the process.

“Did you get here early, Phi? Did you wait long?

Latte’s gentle voice pulled Firstone back into the present. His voice is very gentle but close enough to startle him. As he looked up, he saw Latte pulling the chair across from him, chair scraping softly against the floor.

Firstone’s first instinct was to shake his head no as he could feel himself reaching for his iced chocolate to brace himself. The drink felt icy to his fingertips, but he still felt like his throat was so dry when Latte sat down being so close to him and occupying the small area between the two of them. 

“I haven’t had the chance to order for you, I didn’t know what you like...” The words landed harder than they should have. Firstone felt it like a punch in his gut.

How long have they worked together?  How many shows, schedules, and late nights had he shared with Latte? How could he not have learned something so simple as what Latte orders for coffee?  Realization with all the ways he has been keeping his distance from Latte without realizing it was now settled in the pit of his stomach.

He forced an apologetic smile, guilt creeping in as he wondered how many other things he didn’t know, how many moments he’d missed while convincing himself that what they had was enough.

“It’s alright, Phi. I already placed an order before sitting.”

Latte brushed the topic aside with practiced ease, offering Firstone a small polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He hasn’t changed, Latte thought quietly.

Firstone was still the same kind. He was always well-meaning but distant in ways that mattered. And despite everything, Latte found that he couldn’t bring himself to resent him for it.

In truth, Latte had always looked up to Firstone. The age difference was barely worth mentioning, having only a few months, but somehow Firstone had always felt older and steadier. He was like someone worth following. Yet Latte also knew that Firstone needed someone to lean on too, someone who could stand beside him rather than trail behind. 

They were the same age and they were walking similar paths and still, Latte couldn’t shake the feeling that he was lacking. Someone Firstone didn’t truly need.

The thought lingered uncomfortably as the waitress arrived with his drink. Latte thanked her softly, fingers curling around the cup as if grounding himself. Then, without looking up, he asked, “Does P’Tle know we were meeting?”

The name shifted the air between them.

Firstone looked baffled, caught off guard by the question. His hands fumbled instinctively around his glass, movements betraying him even before he could form a response. 

Latte watched closely, he was reading the hesitation in those small, unconscious gestures. And in that moment, he felt his answer long before it was spoken.

“No… why does he need to know?” 

The words came out more awkwardly than Firstone had meant, and he could feel the stiffness and defensiveness in them. Once the words were out, he mentally cringed and wished he could take them back immediately, realizing how awful and awkward they sounded.

He dropped his eyes to the table, tightened his grip on his cup as if to stabilize himself, and wished he could go back and try again with a different answer? 

“Oh come on, Phi…” 

Latte was lightly laughing, but not at Firstone. The laughter had an edge of something soulful about it, like a resigned acceptance. As if he had already put all the pieces together long before this meeting.

“There's really no need to feel shy or hesitant; you came to see me because you’re thinking about choosing P’Tle, and you want to get more information, advice, or comfort about your decision?”

Latte had never been one to dance around the truth. If anything, he’d learned that dragging things out only made them hurt more. Firstone was struggling and that much was obvious. He had hesitated and was full of guilt, but he needed someone or something to help him say what he has been avoiding. If it was latte that would break the silence and give him the path to say it even if it was at latte's expense; then so be it.

Firstone finally formed the courage to nod after a whole minute, with a tight chest and his mind scattered. He had to pull himself together, he had to control the shaking in his hands, and he had to face what he had avoided for way too long. "I'm sorry, Te," he began, looking into latte's eyes. 

It took Firstone a full minute to summon the courage to nod, his chest tight and thoughts scattered. He had to pull himself together, steady the trembling in his hands, and face what he had been avoiding for far too long. “I’m sorry, Te,” he began, finally lifting his gaze to meet Latte’s eyes. There was a weight in those eyes that mirrored his own, a mix of expectation, patience, and something tenderly unforgiving. “The Phuket trip…” The words hung between them, unfinished, but he didn’t need to elaborate further. Latte already had a sense of what he meant, and that made the silence all the heavier.

“You don’t need to apologize, Phi,” Latte’s words were spoken true to the heart, his tone steady but soft.  “I remember telling you I don’t want to force you into picking me.” His confidence wasn’t arrogance, it was a careful choice, a boundary he had set to protect both of them. He continued, softer this time, “You have so many talents… I’ll have to catch up to you.”

Beneath the words, Latte’s mind churned with a quiet determination. In truth, he was willing to push himself, to grow and improve so Firstone wouldn’t have to carry the weight of their partnership alone. But the timing, as it so often seemed, had betrayed him. By the time he realized what needed to be done, he was already late. And the truth of that… of being ready but too late, settled like a small, persistent ache in his chest.

“I appreciate you talking to me like this,” Latte began, his tone softening, “but don’t make it feel like it’s the last time we’ll see each other, Phi.”

He used a lighthearted tone in his words, a lighthearted tease to help diffuse some of the tension that had developed between them. Latte had great respect for Firstone and how much courage it had taken to ask him for a conversation about something so vulnerable and difficult.

The last thing Latte wanted was for the moment to feel like a final goodbye, but rather a new beginning.

“We’re still friends,” he said as he leaned back a bit, giving Firstone a reassuring smile. “And you two are coming to my graduation.”

With that, a warmth bloomed in Firstone’s heart. The tension on his shoulders started to dissipate and he couldn’t help but smile, nodding his appreciation. For the first time during this discussion, he sensed a glimmer of hope that even though things were awkward, there was no longer any guilt or unsaid feelings, and therefore this was not the end of their relationship - at least, not yet.

"Honestly, before you even talked to me, P’Tle spoke with me." 

Firstone froze, in the middle of a breath; his brows became creased as if there was something about his expression that his face muscles were trying to comprehend. It took him a moment to understand what Latte said, and he was speechless. He had a question he wanted to ask but couldn’t; it was one of those questions that he waited too long to ask, and now it was etched in the back of his throat with a sour, bitter taste.

Latte noticed the stiff facial expression of Firstone and the hesitation in Firstone’s action; he didn’t press further, didn’t force the answer out of him. Instead, he messed around with the straws in his drink; he gave the silence enough time to allow Firstone to think about what he had just learned. 

With an almost mischievous grin, Latte continued, “He opened up to me about what he’s been thinking lately… About you, specifically. He said he’s planning to make a real effort, that he wants to pursue you seriously and see where things could go. He sounded determined, like he’s ready to take the initiative and genuinely try to win your heart.”

Firstone's immediate response was instant. As soon as Latte spoke, heat rushed into Firstone’s ears and he immediately looked away. He fumbled with his hands, as though he could hide from the teasing pressure of Latte's words on him.

Latte looked at the sight of Firstone's involuntary sign of embarrassment with delight, and despite being far away from Firstone, he found himself leaning in slightly with the unmistakable but gentle glimmer of teasing in his eyes.

“Insane. What are you talking about?” Firstone said.

Despite how calm Firstone’s voice sounded to him at that moment, his body told him otherwise. His heart was pounding out of control, as though it were trying to explode from his chest and echo in the whole café announcing his panic. He squeezed his hands tightly around his cup trying to ground himself and trying to slow the relentless thrum of adrenaline that had nothing to do with caffeine.

“What? It’s true,” Latte said, casual yet teasing, as if this wasn’t the revelation that just flipped Firstone’s world upside down. “He’s completely in love with you. So don’t overthink it or stress yourself out, okay? There’s no rush and no pressure. Just take all the time you need to sort out your feelings and move at your own pace. He’s absolutely enchanted by you, Phi. Completely under your spell and not looking anywhere else.” Latte shrugged lightly, the gesture effortless, giving the impression he wasn’t exposing a secret at all but Firstone could feel its weight pressing down on him like a sudden storm.

For a brief period, Firstone solely blinked as he contemplated the new truth. Even at the moment, he could only describe it as being impossible until he finally released all the stress he was experiencing by taking a long, deep breath, not realising he had been unconsciously holding it until just this moment. “Thank you Te,” he said as some relief crept into his voice. For the first time in what felt like hours, he could breathe freely. 

That particular worry about the looming, complicated knot of P’Tle’s feelings was momentarily untangled. He knew he still had more to face, more choices to make, but for now, this was progress.

Latte leaned back, with warmth in his eyes and a small smile on his lips. “No need to thank me. We needed someone older anyway, the kind who would guide us.”

Those words, simple but grounding, had an almost magical effect. Firstone felt the tightness in his chest loosen, the chaos in his mind quiet, leaving him at ease in a way he hadn’t expected. For the first time that day, he felt a fragile but real sense of calm and the courage to move forward.

The “someone older” Latte had mentioned months ago finally materialized as Kim, his partner, someone who meets him on the same wavelength, matching his maturity, pace, and understanding. 

With Kim’s presence, Firstone finds a quiet sense of relief and acceptance. The guilt that once weighed heavily on him has loosened its grip, no longer gnawing at his conscience the way it once did.

As for Tle, Latte had been right all along. Tle did end up chasing after him, though not loudly or recklessly, but in his own steady, sincere way, courting him with actions rather than promises. That persistence, gentle yet unwavering, ultimately solidified Firstone’s decision to bring Tle with him to Phuket and make their partnership official.

Firstone understood that he could never please everyone. Some fans who had supported him from the beginning voiced their disappointment at his choice, yet many remained, choosing to respect his decision even if they didn’t fully understand it. 

The backlash fell largely on Tle, a risk Firstone had anticipated with a heavy heart. Still, he was deeply relieved that it didn’t tarnish Tle’s reputation and more than that, Tle paid no heed to the noise at all.

Firstone knew it had been a risky decision, one he occasionally looked back on with doubt, but Tle proved him wrong every single day. Time and again, Tle showed that he was the right choice, that he would not change under pressure. Tle remained a constant in Firstone’s life. Steady, grounding, and unwavering.

Now, everything finally fits together like the last piece of a puzzle falling into place. Work with Tle came steadily, almost naturally, and in time he managed to debut as an artist under the company, a milestone that once felt distant, even uncertain. 

Throughout those days, Tle became his greatest source of support, standing firmly by his side both on and off screen, offering encouragement when doubts crept in and grounding him when the pressure felt overwhelming. 

And just like this moment now, standing on stage, singing his own song live for the first time during Songkran, Tle is there with him, sharing the experience, turning a long-held dream into something real, something complete.

The short event ended with both of them completely soaked, laughing and splashing around with the fans as water and cheers filled the air. The party showed no signs of slowing down; after all, the festival stretched on for nearly a week, and the energy of Songkran was still riding high. 

Latte was unfortunately absent from the small after-party their group had gathered for, but Kim stayed close, mingling easily with them and the staff, names Firstone knew he would struggle to remember with the mix of booze and adrenaline coursing through his system. 

In that moment, Tle became an immense help to Firstone, never straying far, staying close enough to steady him. Acting like an anchor, Tle kept him grounded, already sensing that Firstone was beginning to feel tipsy and a little dizzy.

The day ended with him utterly spent, body heavy and mind even more so, tangled in feelings he hadn’t yet found the words for. Around them, people kept throwing curious glances their way, questions bubbling up one after another. What’s going on with you two? Only for Tle to answer each time with an easy, almost casual “Phi-Nong.”

And yet, the answer never quite matched the actions.

Because every now and then, Tle would lean in and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, unhurried and familiar, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Each time, it left him blinking, heart skipping, confusion settling deeper instead of clearing.

By the time everything finally quieted down, he didn’t have the energy to untangle it all. The questions, the looks, the warmth of that kiss still lingering on his skin, he folded them up neatly and tucked them away.

Tomorrow, he decided. He’d think about it tomorrow.

Except that tomorrow didn’t come as promised. For the next day, It didn’t take long for their friends and fellow co-artists to slowly gather around them. They unintentionally formed a small protective bubble that allowed Firstone to simply exist and enjoy the moment. 

By then, he knew without a doubt that he was drunk. If not for Tle’s steady presence, his strong arms wrapped securely around his waist and keeping him upright, he was certain he would have already fallen flat on his face. 

Instinctively, Firstone clung to Tle, his arms draped loosely around Tle’s neck. He’s relying on him to keep the world from tilting too far.

“Are you okay, Nong First?” Kim asked gently, his voice soft and unmistakably kind. Even through the haze, Firstone knew it was Kim; no one else had a voice that carried such warmth. 

He struggled to focus as his vision was blurring and he slowly nodded in response, hoping that was enough to reassure him. A dull ache was beginning to throb at his temples, and before he could protest, he felt Tle pressing the opening of a bottle of water to his lips, coaxing him to drink.

“Drink,” Tle said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument. Without hesitation, Firstone obeyed and leaned forward and took a slow sip as instructed, trusting Tle completely as he always did. Tle is always careful, patient, and  he is entirely unbothered by the chaos around them.

“P’Kim,” he whined, the sound drawn out and far more needy than his sober self would ever allow. Without waiting for a response, Firstone hooked one arm around Kim as he finished his sip. He tugged him closer until the hug became a shared one, with Tle still holding him steady in the middle. 

Kim could feel it immediately Firstone is practically vibrating with happiness. He is brimming with an emotion whose source Kim couldn’t quite pinpoint. Still, it didn’t matter. Smiling softly, Kim lifted a hand and gently ran his fingers through Firstone’s hair.

There was something undeniably magnetic about Firstone, the younger had an irresistible charm he carried wherever he went. Kim adored Tle and Firstone equally, but even he couldn’t deny that there was something about Firstone that naturally drew people in, something that made it impossible not to favor him just a little.

“Yes?” Kim replied gently and patiently as ever, giving Firstone the space he needed to untangle the cloudy mess of thoughts behind his eyes.

Firstone swallowed, fingers curling into the hem of his sleeve as if anchoring himself. “Thank you… truly, from the bottom of my heart, for coming into Latte’s life. Your presence has made such a difference. Bringing warmth, happiness, and a kind of light that wasn’t there before. I don’t know if you realize it, but just by being here, you’ve changed things in the most beautiful way.”

Oh.

Oh.

So that was what this was about. Understanding softened Kim’s expression immediately.  A small fond smile tugging at his lips. The weight behind Firstone’s words settled warmly in his chest.

Firstone looked like he might cry at any second now. His eyes became  glassy and shining as his emotions threatened to spill over no matter how hard he tried to keep them contained. 

It was devastatingly sweet. 

Kim couldn’t help the instinctive coo that escaped him; if not for the steadying hand cradled behind Firstone’s head, Kim would’ve already closed the distance and pulled him into a tight reassuring squeeze.

Kim felt the gentle pat on his shoulder and tore his gaze away from the younger, turning instead to Tle. There was a soft smile on Tle’s lip and when he nodded, it carried a quiet  I’ve got this reassurance.

“Of course,” Kim replied to Firstone, voice just as gentle as before. He stepped aside to give Tle the space to care for the younger, but not before leaning in just enough to murmur, “Thank you for reciprocating nong Tle’s love.”

The effect was immediate.

Firstone’s ears burned red. Then a furious blush spread across his cheeks as his mouth fell open, there were words forming but never quite making it past his lips. Whatever retort he’d been ready to throw back lingered uselessly in the air.

Songkran was almost over, the last day stretching lazily before them like a slow golden afternoon. For the past week, Tle had clung to Firstone like glue. firstone was following him everywhere with that quiet, unwavering devotion that made everything else fade into the background.

Right now was no exception. 

Firstone was wrapped around Nunew from behind. His arms snug and laughter bubbling as they splashed and tumbled in the pool like mischievous cats discovering water for the first time. 

Kim crouched nearby. His phone in hand, capturing every movement pride radiating off him in waves, proud mom energy in its purest form.

And Tle? Tle lingered behind them. He was seemingly talking to their friends and contributing to the chatter, but his attention drifted inescapably toward Firstone. 

Every few seconds, his gaze flicked back taking in the way Firstone’s hair clung wetly to his forehead. There was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes with the easy way Firstone moved in the pool. Tle had this protective softness with the way his eyes followed him.

The world around Tle faded into noise, the laughter and chaos of friends flowing with water, yet the only thing in his world was Firstone, the person he followed unconditionally, and Firstone didn’t have a clue that Tle’s heart was tied to his, as if it were glued to him, following him everywhere he went as he laughed, splashed, and played.

“Okay, seriously First, what’s up with you and P’Tle?” Nunew asked playfully, but after taking a hard look at him, he could tell that he was genuinely curious. His voice was playful however, it was also clear that he had seen things that made him more aware of what was happening between Firstone and Tle than he had let on. He turned his head slightly so he could watch First’s reaction and see if he could catch a glimpse of where any of his emotions were at.

“I mean, the way you two have been lately…” he continued, a grin tugging at his lips. “The lingering glances, the way you automatically look for him in a room, how he somehow always ends up next to you… It’s not subtle.” He gave a soft laugh, nudging him lightly. “You’re practically acting like you’re already together.”

He teased as he slowly approached the edge of the pool, the tiled floor cool beneath his feet. Kim was seated in the gutter, half-submerged. Nunew stopped just close enough that Kim could hear him clearly over the soft splashing, close enough to feel familiar.

As one of Nunew’s closest friends in the industry, their bond had formed naturally, strengthened by shared interests, long conversations, and a mutual understanding of the strange rhythm of their lives.

“Nu? Even you?” Firstone protested, his tone exaggerated as he turned dramatically toward Nunew. “P’Kim teased me about it yesterday too.” He complained with a laugh, arms looping around Nunew’s neck in an easy. It was an affectionate gesture between friends that spoke of comfort rather than romance.

Kim chuckled at the sight, nodding in agreement as if to say see what I have to deal with? “We’re just ‘Phi–Nong,’” he added lightly, echoing P’Tle’s words. The term rolled off his tongue easily, almost too practiced.

Firstone continued, lips puckering into a mock pout when he heard Nunew sigh in response.

“Mhm~ sure,” Nunew replied with a small shrug, clearly not buying it. The corner of his mouth twitched as if he were holding back a knowing smile. His gaze drifted briefly toward Kim, then shifted back to Firstone at least as much as he could without making it too obvious. There was a quiet sharpness in his eyes now, like he’d already pieced together more than he was letting on.

“But just so you’re aware,” he added, his tone soft but pointed, “Phi and Nong don’t just kiss for no reason. If it happens, it’s for work, there are cameras and scripts. A scene that calls for it.” He tilted his head slightly, studying Firstone’s face for even the smallest crack in composure.

“And the way you two have been lately…” he continued, voice lowering just a touch, teasing but sincere. “That doesn’t feel like acting. It doesn’t feel professional.” A faint smile curved on his lips. “So it’s one of two things. Either you’re already hopelessly in love…” He paused deliberately, letting the words settle between them.

“Or P’Tle is.”

The teasing lilt was still there, but underneath it was something warmer, an unspoken acknowledgment that whatever was happening between them wasn’t shallow, and definitely wasn’t fake. 

“It’s about time you just admit it, First,” he said, his voice turning softer but more deliberate, like he was done dancing around the obvious. “You can’t keep pretending there’s nothing there.” He gave him a knowing look, brows lifting slightly.

“And honestly? P’Tle wouldn’t make a bad boyfriend at all,” he added with a faint, teasing smile. “He’s patient, attentive… the way he looks at you? That’s not casual. That’s someone who cares.”

He nudged First lightly, warmth slipping into his tone beneath the playful edge. “You could do a lot worse. If anything, you’d be lucky and I think he would be too.” The air felt heavier after that. Still playful, but charged, as if Nunew had said out loud what everyone else had only dared to think.

Is he really in love? With P’Tle?

The thought lodged itself stubbornly in Firstone’s mind, refusing to be brushed away. It wasn’t that the idea unsettled him, far from it. He wasn’t against loving P’Tle at all. If anything, the possibility felt… warm. Familiar. But it also felt premature, like skipping several chapters ahead in a story he had only just begun reading.

Firstone had always known this about himself. He wasn’t the type to fall headfirst at first sight, he wasn’t wired for sudden and blinding realizations.

He preferred love that crept in quietly. The kind of love that grew from shared moments. The love that grew from comfort and understanding. From the slow intertwining of two lives. 

And yet, over the past week, P’Tle had somehow filled his entire system. His thoughts and his routines, even the spaces in between. It made it hard for Firstone to sit with his own feelings, let alone define them.

Was he simply growing accustomed to P’Tle’s presence? To the easy conversations, the lingering touches, the way P’Tle always seemed to be there? Or was there something deeper forming beneath all that familiarity? Firstone honestly didn’t know, and the not-knowing gnawed at him.

Nunew’s words only added fuel to the quiet storm brewing inside his head.

With a frustrated laugh, Firstone reached out and wrapped his arm around Nunew’s neck, playfully tightening his hold. “Nu!!” he shrieked, half-laughing, half-complaining, as if he could physically squeeze the thoughts out of his head.

Nunew, of course, only laughed harder.

The sudden shriek drew attention, not just from nearby friends, but from Tle as well. His head snapped toward the sound, eyes widening when he saw Firstone and Nunew tangled together. Without hesitation, Tle moved, cutting through the water with quick, purposeful strokes. In seconds, he was there, hands firmly pulling Firstone away from Nunew as best as he could, for Firstone doesn’t seem to want to come with him at all.

Nunew was still laughing. He was utterly unbothered, even as he let himself be pushed back. He’d known Firstone long enough to recognize the familiar signs of overthinking. The spiral that came when Firstone was forced to confront feelings he wasn’t ready to name. Nunew also knew that his teasing had hit exactly where it hurt.

And judging by how fast Tle had reacted… maybe Nunew wasn’t the only one who’d noticed something more.

The set is quiet, too quiet. 

No, not the kind of quiet that settles naturally between takes, but a silence that seems to originate from Firstone himself. He is unusually still, withdrawn in a way that immediately puts Tle on edge. 

After nearly a year of working closely with him, Tle has learned to read Firstone’s rhythms well enough to know the difference between his habitual calm and the moments when he simply conserves his energy. This, however, is neither. 

There is something unsettling in Firstone’s silence today, something heavy and unspoken that Tle can’t quite identify, and that uncertainty makes his stomach tighten. 

The air around them feels taut, charged, as if everyone is unconsciously holding their breath. Even the staff, normally focused on their own tasks, seem aware of it, voices are lower, movements more careful, as the tension quietly spreads through the room. 

And so Tle needs to talk to Firstone and he knows just how to.

Firstone could feel the stare burning into him, heavy and unmistakable. He didn’t need to look up to know Tle had his eyes fixed on him, he could sense it in the way the air felt thicker, in the way his shoulders instinctively tensed. It was the kind of attention that waited rather than demanded, and somehow that made it worse. 

Firstone couldn’t bring himself to meet the elder’s gaze. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not when his thoughts were still tangled, not when he didn’t even know what he would say if he did open his mouth. He knew Tle had wanted to talk to him for a while now; the knowledge sat uncomfortably in his chest. He just didn’t know how. 

Or so he thought.

“Hey, sweetheart, drink a little water before I put the lip stain on you,” P’Nut said softly, their voice warm and steady. They gestured toward the table where a bottle sat, unopened, and gave him a small, encouraging smile. “We don’t want you smudging it or tasting it before it even sets.”

There was playful amusement in their tone, but beneath it was the kind of care that only came from years of watching over the team. 

They stepped closer, tilting his chin gently with two fingers. “Take a sip, relax for a moment. Let’s make sure your lips are smooth so the color goes on perfectly. Clean, neat… perfect on you.”

Everyone called P’Nut the team’s mom, and they wore the title with pride. Right now, they used that gentle fussing as a shield for him, an easy excuse to steal a quiet moment before the world pressed in again.

“Slowly,” he murmured as he lifted the bottle. “No rush.”

Firstone responded with a soft pout, his lips pursing as he hugged Sandy closer to his chest. He was admittedly a bit lazy to do as he was told, content to stay exactly where he was, but he knew better than to go against P’Nut. That was a fight he would never win. 

With a reluctant sigh, he let go of his phone and took the bottle. Truth be told, it was the perfect time to drink water. His throat felt dry, parched even but despite that, he kept his gaze carefully lowered, doing everything in his power not to make eye contact with Tle.

What Firstone didn’t realize was that Tle had already set his plan in motion.

The moment Firstone wrapped his fingers around the bottle, a small, knowing smirk tugged at the elder’s lips. He watched closely as the younger twisted the cap, just as he’d expected. 

He’d made sure to tighten the lid earlier just enough. Enough to make Firstone struggle and  force him to ask for help. Firstone’s perfectly shaped eyebrows knit together in frustration as he tried again. 

Since when did these lids become so annoying? he thought, irritation blooming quietly as the cap refused to budge.

That was when Tle struck.

With impeccable timing, he reached out and snatched the bottle from Firstone’s hands, the sudden movement startling him back in his seat.

Shit.

Firstone froze. He’d been so focused on the bottle and so determined not to look up, that he’d forgotten Tle had been watching him the entire time. He’d given him the opening without even realizing it.

So much for avoiding eye contact.

“Are you alright?” Tle asked, twisting the cap open with casual ease, as if the bottle had never resisted at all. Firstone watched the lid leave the bottle with a sharp glare, as though it were personally at fault for his own earlier failure. The betrayal of it stung more than it should have. 

Tle caught the look and couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. So stubborn, even over something so small.

“Yes, Phi. Just a scratchy throat.” Firstone answered quickly. Acting alright with Tle had never been his strong suit, and this was no exception. He knew that Tle could read him like an open book and could see straight through the thin excuse and into whatever he was trying so hard to hide. 

Still, Firstone tried anyway. Habit, maybe. Or pride. 

He took the bottle from Tle’s hand, fingers brushing for the briefest second, and offered a small wai before taking a sip. The cool water soothed his throat, but did nothing to calm the tight flutter in his chest.

His gaze followed Tle as the elder walked away, only to return moments later with a few lozenges resting in his palm. That was all it took, his heart stumbled. Firstone exhaled quietly, frustrated with himself. 

He didn’t understand why his heart reacted like this every single time Tle was near, why such simple gestures unraveled him so easily. This wasn’t new. Tle had been like this from the very beginning: steady, attentive, quietly kind. Always there.

Firstone swallowed, throat suddenly tight for reasons that had nothing to do with being sick. He couldn’t keep pretending this was nothing. He couldn’t keep avoiding Tle.

It wasn’t fair to Tle, who had done nothing but care. If he was going to feel this way, he owed it to both of them to face it. To finally get to the bottom of whatever this was before it went any further.

Tle watched quietly as the younger took the lozenge from his palm. The silence stretched, and worry tugged at him. He could tell something was wrong the way Firstone had gone too quiet but he knew better than to push. 

Pushing only made him retreat further, burying things deeper than he ever meant to. Tle wouldn’t have that. The least he could do was not corner him and not make this harder than it already was. If Firstone wouldn’t talk now, then Tle would wait until he was ready. He had been waiting for a long time already; what was a few moments more?

“Phi is here whenever you’re ready to talk.”

Tle offered an assuring smile then reached out to softly pat Firstone’s head, careful not to ruin his meticulously styled hair. It was such a small, familiar gesture one meant to comfort, not demand. Then he turned and walked away to get his hair done.

Firstone watched Tle’s retreating back, struck by how broad it seemed. Had it always been that way? Or had he simply never noticed, too used to seeing Tle in front of him, shielding him from things he never even realized were there? In that moment, Tle looked impossibly capable like someone who could carry far more than he ever showed. 

Firstone remembered every problem they had faced, how each one seemed to resolve itself before it ever reached him. Only now did he realize the truth: Tle had always been there. He was quietly involved and bearing the weight so Firstone wouldn’t have to.

And suddenly, avoiding him felt impossible.

“I wonder if I went overboard with the blush?” P’Nut teased, his voice airy and playful as they swept the last layer of setting powder across Firstone’s cheeks. The words were light, almost joking, but hid eyes stayed sharp, attentive, drinking in every subtle twitch of expression, every fleeting smile or nervous glance.

Firstone barely heard him. The world had narrowed to the frantic thudding in his chest, loud enough that he was sure everyone else must hear it too. Still, the teasing cut deeper than he expected, slipping past his defenses and settling somewhere tender.

“P’Nut… I feel like I should go to the hospital,” Firstone murmured, his lips pressing into a small, worried pout as he clutched Sandy closer to his chest, as if the plush could give him some comfort. “I think… something’s not right with me.”

What he didn’t say was how badly he wanted to slip away somewhere quiet to sit alone, breathe, and finally untangle the mess of feelings twisting inside him. The urge to run was strong, stronger than his desire to attend the event. But this mattered. To them. And that was enough to keep him rooted in place, even as his thoughts spiraled. If only he had all the time in the world.

P’Nut gave a knowing smile. “I’m not a doctor,” he said softly, lightly tapping Firstone’s cheek with his makeup brush, “but I can tell exactly what’s happening with you and trust me, it’s far from being wrong, sweetheart.”

Firstone looked up at him, eyes wide and shining, like he might cry if P’Nut didn’t explain it outright. But even then, he knew somewhere deep down that this was something he had to realize on his own.

“Now, don’t look at me like that,” P’Nut chuckled softly. He tilted his head and subtly pointed his lips toward Tle, who was absorbed in his phone while someone styled his hair, completely unaware of the conversation unfolding behind him.

“I can tell you this for sure, P’Tle loves you,” P’Nut said, his voice gentle and full of certainty. “He doesn’t hide it; he carries his feelings right out in the open… just waiting for you to reach out and take them.”

At the event, Firstone moved like a machine set to autopilot. His posture was flawless, his smile easy, his reactions perfectly timed as he laughed, waved, and played along with the fans. Anyone watching would think he was completely at ease. 

But in the rare moments when there were no cameras pointed his way, he fell back into a familiar, comfortable silence. His thoughts churned as he tried to slow the frantic rhythm of his heart, to understand why it refused to settle no matter how steady his breathing became.

Tle never left his side. He didn’t fill the silence or demand conversation; instead, he stayed close, grounding Firstone with quiet touches. Fingers laced with his, a firm hand resting at his waist or guiding him gently by the hips whenever the crowd shifted. Each touch was deliberate, reassuring wordless reminders that he wasn’t alone, that someone was there to steady him even when he felt like he might unravel.

The day slipped by faster than Firstone realized. It wasn’t until he sank into the seat of the van on the ride home that the weight of exhaustion settled into his bones. 

There were only the two of them in the middle, along with the driver, the bodyguard up front, and P’Bobby in the back. The hum of the road filled the space, stretching the silence until Tle finally broke it.

“Are you hungry?”

Tle turned toward him, studying his face carefully, as if testing whether small talk was safe, whether Firstone was in a place to receive it. Firstone busied himself with the sleeves of his flannel or rather, Tle’s flannel, twisting the fabric between his fingers before shaking his head.

 “Are you?” Firstone asked in return. His voice came out so small, so fragile, that Tle might have missed it if he hadn’t been paying attention.

But when has he ever not?

“I’ll eat if you eat with me.”

Tle said it lightly, almost like a joke, taking it as his cue to coax the younger out of his spiraling thoughts. His tone was subtle, playful enough to sound harmless, but there was intention behind it all the same.

Firstone turned toward him so quickly that Tle blinked, half-amused and half-worried he might’ve strained his neck with how fast it was.

“Aw? but what if I’m not hungry and P’Tle is?” Firstone blurted out, his brows knitting tightly as his words stumbled over each other. “Does that mean you won’t eat at all? What kind of logic is that?” Despite the protest in his tone, a thread of worry slipped through, creeping into his voice and settling deep in his chest, as if the thought really did unsettle him.

Tle’s smile only widened at that.

“I am hungry,” he replied calmly, a teasing lilt in his voice, “but you won’t eat with Phi, so never mind.”

He watched closely, savoring every shift in Firstone’s expression, the widening of his eyes, the way his lips parted as if to argue, the visible struggle between concern and embarrassment. Tle hadn’t realized how much he missed moments like this, even after being by Firstone’s side the entire day. It wasn’t about proximity; it was about attention.

And now that he had it, now that Firstone was looking at him like this, Tle had no intention of letting the moment slip away.

P’Bobby felt the tension finally ease from his shoulders as he listened to the quiet back-and-forth behind him. The kids were talking again. Not much, not loudly but enough. Enough to tell him that whatever had been weighing on them was loosening its grip. 

He hadn’t realized how worried he’d been until that moment. He wasn’t used to their silence, not when they were usually so in tune with each other. It had unsettled him enough that he’d nearly called P’Nut or P’Leang to ask if they knew what was going on.

But he hadn’t. Deep down, he trusted them to work through things on their own. This was just the first time it had taken them this long to find their way back to each other.

In his eyes, they were mature enough to handle their emotions but maturity didn’t mean they never needed guidance. Sometimes, all they needed was a small nudge, something simple to break the tension without forcing a conversation. So he chose to step in.

“Do you want to go out to eat, or would you prefer we just get delivery?” His tone was casual, almost offhand, but he asked with intention. He knew they hadn’t eaten a single bite since the afternoon, and empty stomachs never helped heavy feelings. 

Firstone looked up at him, and P’Bobby immediately recognized the look, the slight pause, the distant gaze. He could practically see the gears in the younger’s head spinning, thoughts turning over themselves as he tried to decide what to say.

Even in his shyness, even when he insisted he wasn’t hungry, Firstone had never been able to resist food. P’Bobby hid a small smile, already knowing the answer before it came.

“Delivery,” Firstone answered without hesitation.

P’Bobby nodded, lips curling into a knowing smile, as if to say good choice as though the decision had been settled long before the word left Firstone’s mouth.

“When Phi asked if you were hungry, you said no,” Tle said, glancing at him sideways. His voice carried a playful edge, teasing just enough to sound mockingly offended. “But the moment P’Bobby asked, suddenly you were starving.”

He leaned back slightly, arms crossing as if he were sulking.

Firstone huffed and pushed Sandy lightly against Tle’s arm, the plush bumping into him like a half-hearted apology. It was an instinctive gesture, familiar and fond, as if he were soothing him without realizing it.

“I had a change of heart. Why?” Firstone shot back, lifting his chin. “Am I not allowed to?” The challenge was playful, but there was something softer underneath. He’d missed this, missed the easy jokes, the warmth that came with them.

“Aw!” P’Bobby jumped in immediately, delighted by the shift in atmosphere. The van felt lighter now, filled with laughter instead of tension. “A change of heart? Since when did P’Tle have your heart, then?”

He laughed, but the effect was immediate.

Firstone froze, heat rushing to his face as a blush bloomed across his cheeks, bright and unmistakable.

“Since… since then,” he stammered, words tripping over themselves but he didn’t back down. Not completely.

“Since when?” Tle pressed, lips curling into a grin as he bit down on his lower lip, barely holding back a laugh. His eyes never left Firstone’s face.

“I don’t know. Don’t ask me,” Firstone muttered, turning his back on him in exaggerated offense. “I’m going to sleep.”

But as he shifted in his seat, curling slightly inward, he pressed a hand to his chest, quietly willing his heart to calm down. The words still echoed in his head, the teasing comment lingering long enough to leave his ears burning red.

He closed his eyes, pretending to rest. He really did need the sleep, a well-deserved break, a pause from the day. Maybe then, with everything finally quiet, he could sort through the feelings he’d been avoiding for far too long.

If anyone on set were asked who had been in the industry the longest alongside the pair, the answers would come quickly and without hesitation: Keng and Namping. After all, they had stood together in one of the best-selling series, and the bond forged between the four of them had survived schedules, exhaustion, and the constant churn of the spotlight. 

It was the kind of connection that didn’t need explaining, something felt rather than seen.

The days leading up to the concert were relentless. Rehearsals ran long, bodies ached, and sleep came in fragments. Yet no matter how busy they were, it never stopped them from drifting toward one another, unconsciously seeking familiar warmth. In the middle of the chaos, they became each other’s quiet refuge, shared glances, passing touches, the comfort of simply being near someone who understood without asking.

Firstone sensed Namping’s presence before he even saw him. He was seated on the floor, legs folded, watching Tle practice his solo stage with focused intensity. The music echoed through the space, each movement precise. Then, without warning, Namping slipped in behind him and wrapped his arms around Firstone’s shoulders, pulling him gently back into a warm embrace. Keng followed closely, lowering himself to sit beside them with an ease that spoke of habit.

“Tired, Paew?” Namping murmured, his voice soft as he swayed them slightly from side to side, grounding rather than distracting. It was a simple question, but one filled with familiarity and care, the kind that only came from years of shared moments, both onstage and off.

“You tell me. P’Tle and I still had events.”

Firstone let out a half-hearted laugh as he voiced his complaint, drumming his fingers absently against Namping’s arm that was wrapped around him. The sound of Namping’s laughter vibrated lightly against his back, warm and reassuring, easing some of the tension he hadn’t realized he was holding onto.

“Did you guys have time to sit and talk?”

Keng asked the question calmly, leaning back with practiced ease, his hands steady against the floor as he watched them. Firstone paused. He didn’t remember telling Keng what had been going on between him and Tle well, mostly him but he assumed Namping had already filled him in. 

The realization didn’t surprise him, nor did it disappoint him. If anything, he felt relieved. It saved him the energy of having to explain everything himself, spared him the added embarrassment too. He knew how close Keng and Tle were; pretending otherwise would have been pointless.

“No, Phi.”

Firstone sighed, the weight of the word carrying more than just an answer. His thoughts drifted back to all the moments he’d tried, when he’d almost spoken, almost found the courage only for circumstances to pull them apart again. It seemed time simply refused to cooperate, as if it were deliberately working against him.

“I can’t seem to find the perfect timing,” he added quietly.

“But how are you, really?”

Namping’s voice was softer this time, closer, the sway of his body slowing as if to anchor Firstone in place. Firstone felt a familiar tightness in his chest, one that came with being truly seen. He knew how lucky he was to have a friend like Namping. 

Even though Firstone was older, he’d always admired how Namping could put feelings into words so effortlessly, words Firstone himself was often afraid to say out loud.

Talking to Namping felt safe. Like opening a window in a room that had grown too dark and heavy. Maybe, just maybe, he could help clear the clouds forming in his thoughts the worries Firstone had been carrying quietly, unsure how to voice them, afraid of what might happen once he did.

“Worst.”

Firstone spoke the word softly, his voice lowered as if he were afraid Tle might somehow hear him from across the room. His fingers tightened unconsciously around the fabric beneath him as he went on.

“My heart won’t settle whenever P’Tle’s near,” he admitted, frustration bleeding through the whisper. “It’s really starting to bother me. And with our schedules… it doesn’t help that I'm around P’Tle every single day..” He let out a tired sigh, one that carried more than just exhaustion. It carried confusion, longing, and the ache of restraint.

“Were you afraid?”

Namping asked gently, his arms still around Firstone, while Keng watched from beside them, allowing the two to form a quiet bubble of safety, one that kept the rest of the world at a distance.

“No.”

Firstone answered immediately, almost too quickly, as if even entertaining the thought might scorch him from the inside.

“With P’Tle, there’s no need to.”

Namping nodded, encouraging him to continue, to peel back the layers he’d kept tightly wound.

“I’m just… scared he won’t feel the same way I do,” Firstone admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling as the words finally spilled free. He hugged his knees lightly, as if holding in the storm inside him, the fear and longing coiling tight in his chest. “Don’t get me wrong, I know P’Tle loves me. I can feel it in everything he does. I know that.”

But even as he said it, his voice faltered, softening with uncertainty. “It’s just… What if he doesn’t love me the way I love him? What if he doesn’t see me the way I see him?” He finally met their gaze, and in that look was a raw, aching vulnerability. His eyes were wide, searching for some reassurance, some anchor to hold onto in the turbulent tide of his feelings.

Every word hung in the space between them, fragile and weighty, as if speaking them aloud made them real. The quiet around them felt sacred, almost protective, letting him lay his fears bare without judgment. The thought of unreciprocated love pressed against him, sharp and heavy, yet in that same space, there was a flicker of hope, a tiny, stubborn spark that maybe, just maybe, the way he saw P’Tle wasn’t a one-sided story.

He swallowed, forcing himself to go on.

“I’m scared he’ll just tell me we’re nothing more than Phi–Nong, like he always says,” Firstone admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, trembling at the edges. “Our pairing is so new… barely even recognized. And I’m terrified that if I let these feelings take over, I’ll complicate everything for me, for him, for all of us.”

His eyes finally found Namping’s, searching desperately, silently begging for reassurance. “For all of us,” he reiterated softly, the words fragile, a plea cast into the quiet space between them.

Without thinking, he reached out and gripped Namping’s hands tightly, ignoring the slight chill of skin against skin. Namping responded instantly, his thumbs brushing soothing circles over Firstone’s knuckles, a steady warmth that anchored him. “Hey… you’re not alone,” Namping murmured, voice low and gentle, letting him feel the weight of unwavering support.

“If that happens,” Firstone continued, voice cracking now, “if P’Tle… if he doesn’t want me anymore because of this…” His words caught in his throat, swallowed by the fear he’d carried alone for so long. “I don’t know what I’d do, Poong.”

Namping squeezed his hands tighter, leaning just enough to bridge the space between them without breaking the fragile bubble they’d formed. “Then we’ll face it together,” he said softly, eyes holding his, steady and patient. “Whatever happens, I’m here. You’re not facing this alone.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw, yet softened by Namping’s presence. Firstone felt the tension in his chest ease slightly, not because the fear had vanished, but because someone he trusted had wrapped him in a quiet, unshakable certainty. 

The world outside could wait right now, it was just the two of them, holding on, breathing together, letting the honesty of the moment carry them both.

Keng watched quietly as the two of them clung to each other, hugging their worries away, small tremors of tension slowly easing into the safety of the embrace. He glanced back at Tle, who had been watching the pair with quiet attentiveness. When their eyes met, Tle offered a brief, almost imperceptible shrug, a silent assurance, a wordless “It’s okay.”

Keng’s voice was soft, careful, almost a whisper as he spoke, mindful not to overwhelm Firstone. “I can’t speak for P’Tle… but what I do know is that he cares about you.”

Firstone’s chest tightened as Keng continued, drawing him into the warmth of his observations.“In a room full of people, he always looks for you first, before anyone else. Even when he’s talking to someone, his eyes keep drifting back to you, like he wants to make sure you’re okay,” Keng said softly. 

“He loves his dishes extra spicy, the way he likes them, but he tones it down every time you’re around, just so you can enjoy it too. He notices the little things, he’ll offer you water before he takes a sip himself, and makes sure your glass is never empty.”

“He sets aside his own fears, even when he’s nervous, because he knows you’re scared too,” Keng continued, voice warm and deliberate. “He may joke around, tease endlessly, but the moment it matters when you’re upset, uncertain, or even just quiet, he listens. He notices the small shifts in your mood, the way your shoulders tense, the way your eyes flicker, and he adjusts, without you ever having to say a word.”

“He puts you first, before himself,” Keng said, letting the weight of it settle. “Before his comfort, before his pride, before his own wants. Every choice, every small act, he thinks of you first. Even the tiny, almost invisible gestures, they’re all for you.”

Each word struck Firstone like a gentle pulse, his heart racing with a mix of awe and disbelief as the list went on, one thoughtful act piling on top of another. The small, everyday ways P’Tle showed care became a mosaic of quiet love that was both overwhelming and tender.

Keng smiled softly, a flicker of warmth and quiet pride shining in his eyes as he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to draw Firstone closer into the story. “But what really confirms it for me…” His tone shifted, carrying a gentle amusement now, as if he couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “…whenever we go out to eat, he always makes sure the staff don’t serve anything with shrimp, knowing you’re allergic.”

Firstone’s chest tightened, heart skipping at the thought, and Keng chuckled softly, the sound light but full of fondness. “You gave us quite a scare the last time that accident happened, remember?” he said, eyes softening. “Since then, P’Tle never takes a chance. He tastes the food first. Carefully, deliberately, just to make sure there’s no shrimp before it even reaches you. Every single time.”

He paused, letting the weight of it sink in, watching Firstone’s reaction carefully. “It’s not just about shrimp, or even about being careful,” Keng added gently. “It’s about how he thinks of you in every moment. He notices the smallest details, remembers them, and acts on them… every single time. That’s how I know, without a doubt, that he cares about you more than anyone can see at first glance.”

Firstone’s fingers tightened around Namping’s, his heart hammering in his chest. The little gestures, the thoughtfulness, the constant attention, it wasn’t just affection. It was devotion. 

In that moment, Firstone could feel it in every word, every glance Keng gave him, and he realized how deeply P’Tle’s care had woven itself into every small corner of his life.

Over the holidays, Firstone couldn’t tell if the separation had done him any good. The distance was supposed to clear his head, give him space to breathe, to think without the constant buzz of schedules and cameras. But instead, it only made the absence feel louder, more tangible, like a weight pressing against the quiet corners of his mind. In hindsight, he was grateful for the rare stillness, the calm that came with being home, away from the chaos of the industry, the relentless pace that usually left him breathless.

Yet even surrounded by familiarity, he found himself missing Tle more fiercely than he had ever imagined possible. There were no rehearsals to force him to see him, no shoots to hide behind, no casual encounters that could disguise longing. 

Firstone had returned to Chiang Mai, Tle had gone to spend the holidays with his family, and the space between them now felt sharper, colder, wider than any stage or crowded venue had ever managed to make it feel. Every day apart carved out a hollow in his chest that no quiet village street or sunlit morning could fill.

The silence forced him to confront his own feelings. There were no distractions strong enough to drown them out, no work to bury himself in, no scripts or performances to hide behind. And in that stillness, he finally understood something he could no longer ignore: he loved P’Tle truly, completely, far beyond what a Nong was “supposed” to feel for his Phi.

It wasn’t fleeting, and it wasn’t confusion. It was steady settling into his chest like a seed that had always been there, waiting for a name. Every thought of Tle carried weight, every memory of their touches, smiles, and silences lingered in him like a quiet echo, impossible to push aside.

He wanted to be the one Tle ran to when everything became too heavy. The person who could catch him before he fell, who could shoulder the exhaustion, the fears, the doubts. He wanted to be the first to notice when Tle’s smile faltered, when his shoulders tensed, when his eyes clouded with unspoken worries. He wanted to be there without hesitation, without pride, without second-guessing himself. He wanted to be Tle’s safe place, the first name to cross his mind on good days, bad days, in moments that were perfectly ordinary, and in moments that were far from it.

More than anything, he wanted to stand beside him as his greatest support, his quiet strength, his unwavering encouragement. His rock. The one Tle could lean on without a second thought.

And realizing that didn’t scare him as much as he expected. What truly frightened him was how much it mattered, how consuming it was, and how impossible it now felt to pretend otherwise. The thought of returning to Tle, of living in that quiet, steady love, filled him with both longing and a trembling anticipation, a warmth that prickled his chest and refused to be ignored.

“Oy, were you even listening?” Phuping half-joked, half-scolded, waving the spoon he was holding as if he might toss it at Firstone. His friend was sitting right there, physically present, but mentally… somewhere far away.

It had been a while since they’d hung out like this. They’d been friends since high school, a bond that had survived the long stretches of distance and busy schedules, a friendship steady enough to pick up where it left off without hesitation.

“I am,” Firstone sighed, setting his phone down. He had been recording Phuping feeding the foxes, a small, playful moment, and now he slid onto the bench beside him, trying to rejoin reality.

“You’re not,” Phuping snorted, shaking his head. “I told you to move back a little, but look at you… you just plopped down.” He reached for his cider and took a sip, his movements easy and casual, yet observant.

“Oh.” Firstone froze for a second, then laughed softly. “Sorry.”

“Meh,” Phuping shrugged, brushing it off as if it were nothing. “Honestly, what’s on your mind?” He set the spoon down, ran a hand through his hair, and rested the other arm on the back of Firstone’s chair, subtly closing the gap between them.

Firstone felt a pang of guilt. He had invited Phuping out precisely to distract himself, to get his mind off Tle, but here he was, still mentally tethered to someone else, missing Tle’s presence more than he cared to admit.

“Humor me for a bit,” Firstone said finally, shoving Phuping’s phone gently into his chest. His voice was soft, hesitant, carrying more weight than the playful words suggested.

“Suppose I got a role in a series,” he began, fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt, “and my character… he loves his Phi, but he’s afraid to confess. He knows his Phi cares, but he doesn’t know if that Phi would ever feel the same way.” His fingers twisted the fabric, betraying the worry that had settled deep in his chest.

“Would you… dare to confess if it were you?” he asked quietly, almost a whisper, eyes not quite meeting Phuping’s, as if afraid of the answer he might hear, or perhaps afraid of what his own answer would reveal.

“Wow… that hits close to home,” Phuping said with a laugh, completely oblivious to the sudden tightness in Firstone’s chest. His amusement only made Firstone’s heart rate spike. Then Phuping added casually, “Just like you and P’Tle before.”

Firstone froze, the words hitting him like a jolt of electricity. His mind stumbled over the phrasing, panic threatening to bubble to the surface. “Wait… what do you mean by ‘before’?” he asked, voice sharper than he intended. He gripped the hem of his shirt tightly, as if the fabric could anchor him, while resisting the urge to shake his friend for an explanation.

Phuping’s confident tone wavered, replaced by a hesitant, almost guilty confusion. “Like… before… like when you weren’t still lovers?” His brow furrowed, and his eyes darted around as if trying to read the truth from Firstone’s expression.

“Phu!” Firstone shrieked, hands flailing as if to physically push the misunderstanding away. “P’Tle and I… we’re nothing like that!” His voice cracked slightly, a mixture of frustration, embarrassment, and disbelief bubbling out all at once.

“Wait, you weren’t?” Phuping blinked rapidly, his mind racing to reconcile this new information with what he thought he knew. His face twisted with a mixture of shock and curiosity, like someone discovering the rules of a game they’d been playing wrong their whole life. The distinction between friends and lovers, Phi-Nong and Faen… everything, suddenly seemed confusing.

“No way…” Phuping’s voice dropped to a mutter, almost to himself. Then he looked back at Firstone, wide-eyed. “I’ve literally been telling everyone on my IG Live that you two are lovers.” He added the last part sheepishly, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips, unaware of the full weight of his words on Firstone’s frazzled mind.

Firstone exhaled sharply, a mix of relief, embarrassment, and lingering panic. His fingers dug into his shirt hem as he tried to steady himself, his mind a whirlwind of “Oh no, oh no, oh no,” while Phuping sat there, completely at ease, oblivious to the emotional storm he’d just unleashed.

“But I would.” The words landed softly, but firmly, and almost immediately, the sharp spike of panic that had gripped Firstone began to ebb. His chest loosened slightly, and he felt the first flicker of something lighter, relief, curiosity, maybe even courage, stirring in its place.

Phuping’s smile deepened, knowing, almost mischievous. He had been watching Firstone’s emotions shift like a storm across a quiet sky, subtle flickers in his eyes betraying the panic, the confusion, the longing he tried so hard to hide.

He knew Firstone better than Firstone knew himself. Knew when he needed a gentle nudge, when he needed the world to tilt just enough to give him permission to act. So he leaned into his role, pretending not to know that Firstone’s little story, the “what if I got the role” scenario, was nothing more than a mirror reflecting his own hesitant heart.

“I would confess,” Phuping repeated, smirking now, eyes glinting with both amusement and encouragement. The words were casual, almost teasing, but underneath lay the push Firstone had been craving, the permission to take the leap he’d been circling around in silence.

Firstone’s fingers tightened on the hem of his shirt. His heartbeat quickened, not from fear this time, but from the sudden, sharp clarity of what he wanted, of what he had been afraid to admit aloud even to himself. The room seemed to shrink around him, the sound of his own breathing louder than everything else, as he finally let the possibility sink in.

Phuping watched him, letting the silence stretch, letting Firstone fill it with thought, with feeling, with the quiet acknowledgment of the truth he had been dancing around. And in that small, suspended moment, Firstone realized that the first step, simply admitting the truth, was no longer as terrifying as he had imagined.

Firstone had been itching to talk to Tle. 

Days dragged on without mercy, and minutes added up, making time feel torturous and redundant with every second. Each new passing minute seemed to mean that he would not last through another full week without confronting what had been eating at him since that day. 

He longed for Tle's hands to be in his grasp. He would hold them until the end of his life. He wished that he could wrap Tle in such a strong embrace that the entire world would know without a doubt that it was because of how much he loved Tle. A kiss was what he truly desired. 

God, was Firstone ever going to be able to withstand kissing Tle? That ache was always with him, an unrelenting combination of sweet and painful thrumming that drove him mad, getting worse each second. 

With the concert and how well he had performed now done, although it was still raging inside of Firstone; now though, he was even more confident about what he had to say. While thinking of the first time he had ever held Tle's hands to get them both onto the stage lift, he remembered that there from his memory was no rehearsal; nor was he ready for the feeling he had received when Tle had touched him. That little warm feeling stayed within him, more than anything could have made him feel that way again, continuing to create light throughout the quietest corners of his mind.

He recalled what Keng said: Tle was putting aside his own fears for him; that was a strong statement of his conscious choice. Firstone now understood and realised just how brave Tle was to support him and how much of an emotional risk he had quietly taken by supporting Firstone

Firstone could also see that Tle was also afraid; he had felt it through the tension in his shoulders, as well as through the long pauses before every small smile that he had given Firstone. Firstone would have liked to comfort Tle, to let Tle know that it was alright and that it was safe and wanted, but instead he was affected by his own fears. 

Each time that Tle came to Firstone's mind and was reaching out to him, despite his own fear, Firstone's assurance that he was meant to have Tle in his life grew deeper in assurance and the feeling of longing created a greater urgency in his chest. Firstone just wanted to lessen the distance between Tle and himself and make that promise they had made in silence a reality for both of them through Tle being able to feel how much he longed for Tle, cared for him and wanted him.

“P’Tle, can I go home with you tonight?” Firstone’s mouth had run ahead of his brain, and now he stood there, frightened; his heart racing, waiting to see what kind of reaction he would receive. As he waited he noticed how everything else around him seemed to stop. The group gathered around him in celebration of the concert seemed frozen like statues; almost as if all of them had just stepped into another dimension. 

Namping was caught mid-laugh; when he turned and looked, his expression was one of shock; Keng had jumped with his head turning suddenly toward Firstone; his eyes wide open in surprise and alarm. All of the people living near by stood without sound; even all of the people working nearby stopped talking and seemed to cease the sounds they were making, all because of what was occurring before Firstone. 

At that point, Firstone could feel the embarrassment and fear settle into the pit of his stomach. He meant to say those words, and every syllable without hesitation. However, saying those words aloud, around so many other people, made him feel there was a tightening of the chest. Several times before he had pictured what it would have been like to have said those words to P'Tle but never in the open like this.

His sight spotted P’Tle in the distance, searching for any indication from him. His heart skipped a beat and he wanted to look away but instinctively he had to look back, impossible to turn away. But, somewhere deep inside himself he thought of how he would let P’Tle see him fully; this was about more than just getting a reaction, this was an important statement.

He recognized the pending nature of this one moment, and for a second, he understood how much heart he had put into asking.

“Sure,” he replied simply.

That is how Firstone ended up at Tle’s apartment.

Tle's apartment had an unusual stillness about it. Sounds from the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall above the front door, or those outside were all far more pronounced without Tle's presence in the room than they were normally. 

Sitting with his thoughts, Firstone felt a little alone. Tle had excused himself approximately 20 minutes ago to take a shower after Firstone had his. 

Firstone had been a frequent, if not constant, visitor to Tle's apartment since he could remember. Eating pizza while watching movies until the early morning hours, and leaving take-out boxes strewn across the coffee table, talking and laughing in front of the TV were all experiences that had been typical in this apartment. 

The apartment had always felt like home, almost an extension of Tle himself. Now the air feels dense and heavy against his chest and fills his lungs with something heavier than pure, normal air. 

What was he doing here again? 

The door to the bathroom opened slowly, and when it opened completely, out stepped Tle, startling Firstone. The pounding of his heart, rather than the sound of Tle's footsteps, had masked the sound of his approaching.

Tle was too close for comfort, and with the towel, he dried his wet hair. The ends of his hair were still dripping, catching the light and falling against his neck. The smell of the soap Tle used when he showered, Tle's soap, a clean but distinctly Tle scent, filled the small room.

Firstone had thought about this conversation through the drive over, showering, and even moments before staring at the utterly blank TV screen. He had prepared what he would say, how he would say it in logical, controlled sentences. 

However, as soon as the scent of the soap was close enough for Firstone to make out, all the carefully constructed sentences fell to the floor like scared birds.

He swallowed.

Tle noticed. He always did. And he had noticed this time as well.

"Do you want to talk about it or just sit?" Tle said softly, sitting down on the couch next to Firstone, letting the towel rest against his shoulders instead of holding it over his head like he was earlier, his voice sounding less teasing. "You don't have to force it."

What made it worse for him was how concerned Tle appeared.

With that, Firstone clenched the soft fabric of their couch into fists in an effort to ground himself because he was feeling very suffocated, not by the room or the silence, but by the weight of all that is still unseen between himself and Tle. 

He didn't notice the way Tle sat so openly and patiently before him; had he seen that power at that moment in Tle's being he surely would have been too distracted to gather even one of his scattered thoughts. Firstone took a deep breath trying to concentrate.

“P’Tle...I want to discuss...”

The words fell from Firstone’s lips softer than intended, emitting more vulnerability than respect. Firstone could feel the wheels in his mind grinding, overheating, and shooting sparks off. All of the sentences that Firstone had rehearsed for his time of preparation completely evaporated in the moment that they came into contact with his tongue. The words continued to jumble and become twisted until they resulted in a plethora of fragmented pieces.

“About us.”

So, he said it; at least part of it.

There was an observable change, though, from the way in which he perceived Tle’s face was changing and exhibiting a shift. Tle had become more erect in stance, stabilized the amount of movement in his towel and, by the look of it, the air within the two of them had started to increase in density.

“Wait, no, not... more of a me topic...,” Firstone exclaimed hurriedly in response to what Tle may have perceived to be his thoughts by bringing his hands up in an attempt to physically change his word order mid-air. Same as before, Firstone had thought, confuse himself going in one direction with reassurance of Tle; both thoughts occurring at once. “I mean,”

He became increasingly frustrated when he rapidly exhaled through his nose.

“Ah! There is going to be some of you in my discussion with you; therefore, this will be an ‘us’ topic,” Firstone revealed, followed by a really awkward laugh that he did not think of when he heard the sound come out from his mouth, before scratching the back of his head and then diverting gaze everywhere from Tle before his sight could connect with Tle.

What an embarrassment.

As the heat from his neck began to rise, Firstone was reminded of how many times he had envisioned this moment: calm, collected, and possibly a little poetic. However, when Firstone spoke, the words that came out sounded more like a robot trying to restart instead of a human being.

Tle's gaze was fixed on him, and while he did not express visible impatience, the way in which he stared at Firstone happened to increase the feeling of being open and naked.

“Are you sure—” was all Tle said before Firstone raised his hand between them and…

“P’Tle, I think you’re in love with me—” Firstone blurted out, the words tumbling out in the wrong order as his thoughts were tripping over each other as nerves took over.

“Yes.”

The answer came instantly firm and certain with no hesitation whatsoever.

“I mean—” Firstone rushed on as he is quite desperate to fix it, “I think I’m in love with you.” The correction slipped out before his brain could catch up and before he could stop himself from laying everything bare. “Wait…what?”

His mouth fell open as Tle’s earlier response finally registered. The world seemed to pause around him and the noise of their surroundings fading into the background as his gaze snapped back to Tle.

“Yes,” Tle repeated as he moved closer, his voice suddenly becoming lower now but no less sure. 

“I’m in love with you, baby. From the very first day I saw you if I’m being precise.” In Tle’s face there wasn't a trace of doubt in his expression. Instead, there is a slow smirk curved his lips as confident and almost wicked like he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

It was the kind of look that made Firstone’s heart stutter, making him all over flustered and overwhelmed.

Tle is too confident and way too bold. Almost annoyingly sure of himself.

And yet, as Firstone stood there his heart racing and mind reeling, he realized the worst part wasn’t Tle’s certainty, it was how effortlessly Tle’s words settled into him, as if some part of Firstone had already known the truth long before he’d dared to say it out loud.

“I see…” I see? What kind of response is that?!? Internally, he was clawing at his own hair, screaming into the void. Outwardly, he stood there like a malfunctioning appliance that had just been unplugged.

Firstone exhaled, long and shaky. And strangely, as the seconds ticked by without the world ending, the tight, suffocating nerves that had been strangling him all evening began to dissolve. 

“I’m sorry, P’Tle,” he blurted out, the apology tumbling over itself. “This wasn’t what I had in mind at all.”

He reached up and grabbed the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly. His hand stayed there too long. Then it dropped. Then it hovered uselessly in the air as if searching for purpose. “I mean—” He gave a short, breathy laugh that sounded more like a wheeze. “I rehearsed this. In my head. So many times. None of them sounded like… whatever this is.”

“But I really do love you, Phi.” His voice softened, steadier despite the way his fingers trembled. “More than what a nong should feel for his Phi.”

"When you feel like you are losing everything, when you're feeling alone and unsure of what to do, I hope that I am the first person that comes to mind. Not because you feel obligated to reach out but because you feel compelled to ask me." Firstone's eyes carried clarity; a tell tale sign that he's really giving his all to convey his feelings to Tle.

“I want to support you at the end of your day. I want you to be able to tell me about what happened during your workday without worrying about how I feel about it. I want you to be able to share your fears, concerns, and the things that are making you lose sleep at night with me; it's not because I can help you solve everything but because I will share in that burden with you. You don’t have to deal with this burden by yourself." He hesitated for a brief moment before he reached out to him. Tle couldn't hear anything anymore but his heartbeat and Firstone's soothing voice.

Before Firstone could touch him, the younger hesitated as if waiting for the universe to tell him not to touch his hand. He waited long enough for the universe to change its mind and then placed his hand nicely on Tle's.

"I want to be the person you feel safest with, P’Tle. The one who you doesn't have to impress, the one who can sit together in silence without the awkwardness of a break in thought, the one who knows your silence and understands that silence. And if you'd allow me to, I would become whatever you need at that time. If I find a place in your life, I will fit myself in there gently; Not so I change to fit you, but so I meet you as you are." He nearly flinched when Tle's hands interwined with his. Firstone's palm was warm, but Tle's skin was even warmer.

"I want to love you louder the way you should be, Phi." And Firstone felt like he was about to cry, admitting that out loud for Tle to hear really did a number on him. 

Tle's one free hand moved slowly and almost cautiously as though Firstone would disappear if he tried to move too quickly. Tle's fingers lightly brushed along Firstone's jaw and settled on his cheek where they radiated warmth. The touch was gentle, but firm.

And Firstone didn't think about it; he simply leaned in toward Tle.

He instinctively pressed into Tle's palm, as if he had been waiting for this contact all along. His eyes fluttered closed briefly, crystal tear rolling down his cheek and he drew in a small breath of air at the sweetness of the moment. The anxiety that had been buzzing underneath his skin throughout the night was calmed by the warmth of Tle's hand on him.

"You are all those things to me, First," Tle said, his voice quiet. His gentle hand running down his cheek to wipe his tear.

Firstone's eyelashes quivered with the sound.

"You may not even notice it," Tle continued, his thumb grazing beneath Firstone's eye, "but you have been for me for so long. When things are difficult, you are the first person I think about. When I want to share something with someone good or bad, you are the first person I go to."

He moved his hand from Firstone's cheek to the back of his neck, drawing him closer so that there was hardly any distance between them anymore.

“You’ve been my comfort without even trying,” Tle murmured. “My safest place. It’s not something you had to force. It just… happened. Naturally. Unconsciously.”

And then he pulled Firstone in fully.

Impossibly closer.

His arms wrapped around Firstone’s back, holding him as if he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. Tle buried his face into the crook of Firstone’s neck, breath warm against his skin. Firstone felt the exhale there. It was low but relieved, almost shaky.

“You don’t have to squeeze yourself into my life carefully,” Tle whispered against him. “You’re not someone on the outside trying to fit in.” His grip tightened slightly.

“You already occupy my heart. Completely.”

The words weren’t dramatic. They weren’t loud.

They were certain.

“You don’t need permission to be here,” Tle added softly. Pointing at Firstone's chest where his heart lies as if mirroring his. “You’ve been here all along.”

Firstone could feel it then, not just the embrace, but the weight of what Tle was saying. Not a reluctant acceptance nor a compromise but a choice.

And Tle was holding him like someone who had already made it.

“I love you, First.”

Tle took his time with the words; carefully and delicately lifting his head up from Firstone's neck, as though worried that any sudden movement would ruin the fragile and fleeting moment they had created between them. He had a firm grasp on Firstone's waist, holding him tight against him, his hands providing solid anchoring for him to stay close.

Once his face was level with Firstone's, Tle looked deeply into Firstone's eyes. Not just looking but studying them for even the slightest sign indicative of doubt, hesitation, the tightening of his lips, or widening of his eyes; anything that signified either too much or too quickly.

But instead of any signs of insecurity he received the opposite: softness; relief; trembling but sure.

Tle started to lean into Firstone, letting their foreheads near touch, letting his breath mingle into Firstone's as he leaned in as slow as he could, allowing Firstone all the time he wanted or needed, to move away from him.

As their foreheads were nearly touching and their breaths were nearly mixing together, Tle's eyes were open, continuing to pay attention and commit to memory how Firstone looked at him, in both fear and courage all at once.

As Firstone leaned towards Tle, the latter released his grip. Without thinking about it first, Tle took hold of Firstone's face and pressed his lips against him.

It was unlike their previous kisses, it was intentional on Tle's part; he took his time, holding Firstone tightly so that he would not lose him to the tension between them again. Tle pressed his lips against Firstone's like sealing a promise; he kissed him like he wanted to be with him, with compassion.

The way Tle kisses Firstone is always a surprise. Each moment spent kissing Firstone brings something different and new. Sometimes Tle's kisses with Firstone can be playful and other times they can be intense. Each one he shares can be completely unpredictable.

This kiss, on the other hand, carries a weight of its own. It makes a confession of the fear that was present, then confronted, then resolved. It makes a love confession.

No hurry, nothing else to prove. Tle took great care to move slowly, both in pleasure with the way his mouth felt to Firstone and how comfortable it felt to him; Tle wanted to reassure Firstone that he wasn't using him. He wasn't taking Firstone; he was providing Firstone with the kind of assurance that he would not leave him.

Tle's lips began to soften, and he stayed there long enough for his lips to communicate what he had attempted to convey with words. Every single moment was willfully intended; every single moment was the product of the many feelings Tle had kept inside of him for too long a time.

As soon as Tle realized his lungs were burning and he needed air, he instinctively drew back, just enough to catch his breath. But Firstone wasn’t ready to let the moment slip away. He followed immediately, closing the small distance between them as if even a second apart was too long. Tilting his head to deepen the connection, he kissed Tle with growing intensity, the hunger in him unmistakable.

One of Firstone’s hands hovered uncertainly before settling around Tle’s neck, not in force but in a loose, possessive cradle, as though he simply needed somewhere to anchor himself. His other hand clutched tightly at the towel wrapped around Tle, fingers gripping the fabric as if afraid the moment or Tle himself might slip away.

When Tle finally pulled back a little bit to breathe this time Tle and Firstone were forehead to forehead and the younger ended up on his lap, completely.

Their breathing echoed softly through the room, slow and uneven, the kind that lingers after something intense. Heat clung to their skin; their cheeks were flushed, and their lips tender and slightly swollen from the kiss they had just shared. Neither of them spoke at first. The silence felt full rather than awkward, charged with everything they hadn’t yet put into words.

Firstone lifted his hand and gently traced the outline of Tle’s lips with his thumb, almost reverently, as if memorizing the shape of them. Then he leaned in again, pressing one last, softer kiss.

Tle’s expression melted into a small smile. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the tiny mole just beneath Firstone’s mouth, lingering there for a heartbeat. It had always been his favorite detail, something small and intimate that felt like it belonged to him alone.

When the rush of emotions finally settled into something calmer, Firstone pulled back slightly. His gaze searched Tle’s face once the intensity had faded into tenderness, he asked what Tle had noticed earlier back when he was confessing, “Phi, when you said from the very first time you saw me… was that when you joined the company?”

Firstone shifted on Tle’s lap, settling more comfortably as if he had always belonged there. One leg slid to either side of Tle’s hips, and he looped his arms loosely around Tle’s neck. The earlier tension had melted away, replaced with a soft curiosity that sparkled in his eyes.

Up close like this, he could see every subtle change in Tle’s expression, the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips, the way his gaze lingered just a second too long.

Tle’s hands rested naturally at Firstone’s waist before one began tracing slow, absentminded patterns along his back. His touch was warm, grounding, possessive in the gentlest way.

A smirk curved onto Tle’s face.

“Way more before that.”

Firstone blinked.

“What?”

The word came out half laugh, half disbelief. His brows drew together as he pulled back just enough to properly look at him, searching his face for signs of teasing. “Before that?” Firstone repeated, eyes widening. “You’re telling me you liked me before we even worked together?”

Tle’s smirk deepened, fingers continuing their lazy path up and down Firstone’s spine, clearly enjoying the reaction. “Phi,” Firstone pressed, tightening his arms slightly around Tle’s neck. “There is no ‘before that.’ We met at the company.”

Tle only hummed in response, amused. “You really don’t remember?” he asked softly.

Firstone stared at him, completely lost now. His mind scrambled through memories. Orientation day, team introductions, their first project meeting. Nothing earlier made sense.

“Stop smiling like that,” Firstone muttered, though there was no real bite in it. “You’re making it worse.”

2023

“I swear, you really need to stop dragging me into these things, Phu.” Firstone huffed, hands resting firmly on his hips, the weight of mild exasperation pressing into his posture.

His friend, Phuping, had some freelance work to handle and had invited Firstone along under the guise of just “hanging out.” But as usual, the innocent promise of casual companionship came with strings attached. “Hanging out” with Phuping rarely meant leisure. It usually meant errands, responsibilities, or something that would make Firstone question his life choices.

“It won’t happen again, I promise!” Phuping declared, raising three fingers in a mock pledge. But his crooked grin betrayed him entirely, hinting that this ‘promise’ was about as reliable as a paper umbrella in a storm. Firstone knew, deep down, that this wouldn’t be the last time he’d be roped into one of Phuping’s schemes.

“I’ve heard that one before. About a thousand times, in fact,” Firstone muttered, shaking his head, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips anyway. “Alright, you rascal. What do you need me to do this time?”

Phuping dug through his bag, producing a thick, unwieldy binder. “Could you pass this on to my research members? They’re at the library. The leader said they’d be there till five,” he instructed.

Firstone’s eyes flicked to his wristwatch and immediately widened in alarm. Quarter to five. And the library was nowhere near where they were standing. His jaw tightened, the familiar mix of irritation and begrudging obligation settling in.

“Oh, you little dipshit,” he muttered, snatching the binder from Phuping’s hands. If it weren’t for the fact that his friend was still dressed appropriately for the event they were supposed to be attending, Firstone would have launched a swift kick at him without a second thought.

He braced himself and started moving, intending to run, weaving mentally through the fastest possible route. But fate, it seemed, had decided to toy with him today. As he turned sharply, he collided with someone else, another figure dressed in a similar style to Phuping. Presumably, this was Phuping’s partner for the day.

The impact sent the binder’s papers fluttering across the grass. Firstone groaned, diving to scoop them up. “I’m sorry, Phi!” he called automatically, though his focus was more on salvaging the scattered sheets than engaging with the stranger. He stuffed them haphazardly back into the binder, mentally filing them properly only once he reached the library.

He didn’t pause to allow the stranger to respond, nor did he glance back at Phuping, who was trying to call after him. His mind raced, plotting the fastest route, calculating every shortcut and alley that could save him precious minutes.

“Oy!” Phuping’s voice finally carried after him, tinged with frustration. But Firstone didn’t look back. He barely registered the words over the pounding of his heart and the rhythm of his hurried steps.

“…What’s with the rush? It’s not even four yet!” Phuping muttered to himself, scratching his head. And then realization struck. Firstone’s wristwatch had stopped earlier; he couldn’t have possibly known the time accurately.

“Your friend?” The stranger who had collided with Firstone asked, finally speaking.

“Oh! P’Tle! Hello,” Phuping greeted, bowing slightly in a polite wai. “Yes, I was just about to introduce you to him, but he had something urgent to take care of.” He chuckled gently, the sound light and teasing, as if the whole chaotic scene was already amusing in hindsight.

"Maybe some other time, Phi." Phuping smiled knowingly.