Chapter 15: The Visit

Est.

Est was hunched over his laptop at the his work desk, hands typing steadily, when William appeared at the bottom of the steps.

William paused briefly, hand firm on the railing, studying Est carefully for a long moment with an unreadable expression.

Sighing aloud, he spoke up then. "You've been at that for hours."

Est glanced back at him, blinking like he'd forgotten there was a world outside the cursor blinking on the page. "Yeah. I'm going somewhere... I think."

He started typing again.

William tilted his head, eyes evidently bored. "Take a break." He said.

Est's fingers kept moving, lost in the words floating inside his head.

William crossed the space, and gently shut the laptop. "Take a break..." He repeated. "Walk with me."

Est opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

Exhaling softly, he dropped his hands down on his laps, his limbs suddenly feeling numb, like a weight he hadn't known he carried settled on it. Sighing again, he looked up at Will. "Okay."

They stepped out together, into the late-afternoon light. The air smelled like cut grass and the promise of distant rain.

Neither of them spoke as they walked side by side, slowly, shoes scuffing the cracked sidewalk, shoulders almost brushing.

Eventually William broke the quiet first, his voice strangely disturbed. "Do you... ever notice how the streetlights here are all different heights?" He looked around, brows creased.

Est blinked, then looked at him, surprised. "What?"

"Some are like...tall and skinny, some are shorter and thick." The disgust on his face was baffling. "It's weird."

Est blinked twice, still startled at the random observation. Then he laughed— a small, but humored sound. He sighed then. "You're actually right. But that is such a strange remark."

William shrugged. "I hate bad architecture..."

Est blinked again, brows furrowing. "I... think this is the engineering departments fault?" He suggested, smiling inwardly.

William seemed to think for a moment, then scratched his head. But he didn't say anything, just walked forward faster.

Est stopped, chuckled low, before catching up to William's pace.

They kept going, Est pointing out the weirdest ones he could find now that William brought it up.

A crooked pole leaning like it was tired. One that looked like it was sulking, another with very bad posture.

After a while Est said. "When I little, I used to think clouds looked like animals. Not like sheep or dogs— but really specific ones. Like a giraffe eating a hot dog or a bunny skateboarding."

William's mouth curved, just a little. "Really?"

"Yeah. My mother told me I was seeing things..." He said, half smiling, tone a little deprecating. "Look at me now... 23 years old and i'm talking about poles grieving."

William chuckled softly. "Isnt that what you writers call a personification?"

Est hummed softly. "Hmm... but it always sounds better on paper. Not when you say it out loud in real life..."

William's smile faltered slightly. "A downgrade in my opinion..."

Est looked up, startled by the sudden change in his tone. "Why?" He inquired.

"Well, the world is full of freaks pretending to be normal..." His eyes darkened then. "I think if more people embraced their weirdness, being a freak would be the norm. Maybe then, 'freak' would just be another word for human." The words, there seemed to be a certain darkness surrounding them.

Est took them in, wondered if it had a deeper meaning than 'depressed poles' and 'unusual clouds'.

But he didn't ask, just kept walking.

Together, they turned a corner without noticing.

The quiet residential area soon gave way to wider sidewalks with more people and crowded streets, a few shop light glowing brighter with the approaching night.

The city had crept up on them.

Est stopped in front of a tiny bakery with a colorful sign. "I love the smell of fresh bread.  " He said to Will. "My mother used to make those tiny, white loaves when I was little and the house would smell of them the entire day. Now, even when I'm not hungry, I buy them for keepsakes. It just makes me feel... homey, knowing it's there."

William nodded, admiring the trays displayed behind the glass. "I love fresh bread too, Est. Can you make me some someday?"

Est's heart did a flip for reasons he didn't understand. "Uhmm..." He stuttered, skin flushing. "Okay.."

William's eyes warmed at the promise. "Can't wait." He looked at Est.

Est's cheeks colored. He looked down at his shoes, before moving away so Will wouldn't hear the wild flutter in his chest.

They kept walking on.

They strode past a street musician playing something slow on a guitar. Past a dog in a little sweater being carried like a baby. Past a group of teenagers arguing about whatever teenagers argued about these days.

They kept walking until the sun was low and stars filled the sky one by one.

William looked up after a while. "The stars are clear tonight..." He said, eyes sweeping the skyline. "Venus is bright over there—" He pointed. "Right above that curvy streetlight."

Est's mouth opened at first, then closed.

He hadn't expected William to know about that, let alone say it so casually, as if he was commenting on the weather. "You... follow astrology?"

"I used to..." William shrugged. "Back when I was much younger. It was easier keep staying alive when it felt like your future was already written in the stars."

Est stayed quiet, even when his heart twisted at how impossibly sad that statement was.

"When the sky's full like this, it's hard not to notice the patterns. And then I remember."

Est nodded, beguiled.

"What's your sign?" William looked at.

"Taurus." Est answered.

"Hmm.. When Venus is in the stars of Taurus, it is a good thing. Since Venus rules Taurus, people say it makes you extremely charming, stubborn about beauty. You get a heightened desire for stability and sensory pleasures. And when you decide something's worth it, you hold on to it."

William looked at him then, eyes sparkling and innocent, unaware of the effect his words had on Est.

Est looked away, and swallowed nervously. "Well.." He said, voice dry. "Thank God it isn't March yet."

William chuckled, shaking his head softly.

Est memorized the sound, the sudden rush in his blood, and kept moving.

They approached an intersection as the traffic ahead buzzed on steadily. The bright green traffic lights glared above the road, and so they stood in wait among the other pedestrians, idling in the quiet line of strangers gathered at the stop.

Est snuck a glance at William every so often. When William finally caught him, he didn't look away.

So Est stopped sneaking.

Eventually Est smiled, expression shifting from something shy to something wholesome. "When I was younger, pretty much until high school... I used to be scared to cross the streets on my own. Like... really scared. I'd usually just stand at the curb forever, waiting for a wide enough space or every single car to be gone." He laughed nervously.

"When the roads were to busy and narrow, I would beg the next stranger to hold my hand so I could cross. And I would hold their hands so tight, it hurt. And they would laugh nervously and still help me. But even then, as I crossed with them, I still felt like I was going to disappear if I didn't match their pace." He shook his head, laughing softly. "I used to be so silly."

William didn't say anything right away. He just stood silent, watching Est like a story that was slowly unraveling.

The light was still green. Cars sped past in slow motion.

Eventually the light, switched to red.

Without a word, William reached over and took Est's hand.

His palm was warm, his fingers strong and steady. He didn't squeeze, no. He just held, firm enough that the touch startled Est. His heart slammed againt his chest, hard, before it settled into a fast, fluttering rhythm.

They stepped off the curb together, motion automatic. William guided at Est's pace, though it wasn't rushed or pulling.

Est kept staring at Will's face, lips slightly parted, a mix of awe and surprise gleaming in his eyes. Will didn't look at him, just kept his stare straight ahead, as if the direction was just as important as Est's palm in his hands.

Est eventually faced front, afraid to keep looking at William's face, lest he embarrassed himself and make his feelings grow worse.

Or better.

He wasn't sure which scared him the most.

His feeling for Will scaring him? Or not scaring him at all.

The light stayed red long enough for them to cross without hurry. When they reached the other side, William didn't let go.

And Est didn't pull away.

They walked the rest of the way home like that— hand in hand, quiet again. But this time, it was a different quiet.

The kind that felt full instead of cold and unsure.

Even when they arrived at the house, William held on, opening the door with his free hand, clicking it shut with his feet.

When they reached the stairs, the both stopped at the bottom.

William lightly squeezed Est's hand and he looked down at their joined hands for a long second, as if he wasn't ready to let go yet.

Maybe he wasn't.

Est wasn't sure.

But he did.

Slowly, hesitantly, he opened his fingers. And he let go.

Est felt the absence instantly, cool air greeting his palm.

William stood there, with that same bored impassive look that Est had come to understand conveyed so many meanings.

The look, it was a soft goodnight without words.

"Goodnight." Est murmured in response, before turning and going up first.

William stood there motionless and Est could feel the heat of his gaze on his back. It made him warm in ways that were uncomfortable.

Unable to stand it for too long, he hurried up the stairs, heart still tripping over itself.

When he arrived at his bedroom, he shut the door behind him—softly, so it wouldn't make a nose— before leaning back against it.

His chest rose and fell too fast.

He stared down at his palms, still feeling the ghost of William's on his. Then he pressed that same hand to his chest, feeling the wild, rapid beating underneath.

"Fuck!" He whispered to the empty room.

~~~

Nut.

Nut was sat at his desk, staring at the monitor for more than twenty minutes now without typing a single word.

His leg bounced nervously underneath the table. And every few minutes, his eyes flicked to the empty chair opposite him.

He hadn't slept more than three hours combined last night. Each hour had come with him sitting on chair, spending long minutes pondering, wondering.

About him.

Hong.

And when he finally climbed into bed, each time he closed his eyes, Hong would be right there.

Waiting for him.

He dreamed of his voice, his small face laughing at something stupid Nut said, leaning close over coffee, brushing their shoulders in the hallway.

By 4 am, Nut was wide awake, heart unsteady in his chest, thoughts still full of nothing but Hong.

By 5, he was dressed and already in the car, driving to the little floral shop on the corner street near his apartment.

It wasn't open yet, so he sat there, waiting.

And there he spent the next two and a half hours, scrolling through his previous chats with Hong, searching for his social media handle.

He didn't find any.

So he went back to their chat.

At first, he wanted to send a 'good morning' text. But he didn't want to be too obvious.

So he sent it an hour later.

And Hong responded almost instantly.

Nut tried not care about the way his heart did a somersault. Or the way it beat too fast.

But he did.

So much so, that when the shop opened, he couldn't stop smiling. Not even while he spent a full ten minutes, picking out flowers for him.

He picked up a small bouquet of white and pale pink peonies the florist suggested. It seemed perfect in his eyes. They smelled clean and sweet, just like Hong.

As he held them, he pictured Hong's reaction to receiving them. He pictured his face when he handed them over— surprised, maybe soft, maybe a little shy. He pictured him smiling that small private smile that made him go stupid.

Then he pictured the whole office seeing it. The raised eyebrows, the whispers, the rumors, the questions.

He frowned then, setting the flowers back in the bucket. He paid the florist for her time, and quickly left.

Now the clock on his screen read 9:47 am and Nut was still waiting for Hong with an unsteady rumble in his stomach.

He wished he'd gotten the flowers, wished he'd gotten the card that came with it.

Would have been much easier than what he was going to do.

As if on cue, the door at the far end opened.

And Hong walked in.

Time didn't just slow for Nut— it stretched thin, like an endless string.

Hong was wearing a pair of dark jeans, a black Tee and a navy jacket, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

It was nothing special.

But something was different.

His silver hair was a little longer than usual, falling across his forehead in soft, messy waves that caught the overhead light.

He looked... rested.

Looked unreal.

Like he'd woken up just to be happy.

And when he looked at Nut, he smiled— wide and heart-stopping, just for Nut.

Nut almost let out a dreamy sigh. Almost.

But he caught himself, and forgot how to breathe in the process.

Hong didn't notice thankfully.

He crossed the room, looking only at Nut as he moved. "Hey..." Hong said, dropping his bag beside his chair. His voice was quiet, warm.

"Hey..." Nut answered, but it came out weaker than he meant.

They held the look, longer than necessary, long enough for Nut to get even more nervous.

Hong broke away, and sat down, shifting his chair forward so he faced Nut more directly."How's your mom?"

Nut blinked, then remembered his lie. His cheeks heated up instantly. "She's uhmmm... she's good." He said, scratching his head.

Hong laughed for no reason, before drawing out a file. "Okay."

"Yeah."

A moment of quiet followed.

Nut rubbed his thumb over the edge of his heyboard, trying to find the courage he'd had at 8 am in the flower shop.

He cleared his throat. "Hong?"

Hong looked up and smiled again. "Yeah?"

That made his brain start again. He blinked, scratching his head, nervous, pathetic. "Unmm... you know... it's Thanksgiving weekend."

Hong nodded slowly, still smiling brightly. "Yeah."

Why was he so full of sunshine today? Nut wondered.

He hoped he had something to do with it.

But he didn't ask. Instead, he swallowed the thought. "So uhm, I dont know the full story yet, but I know things are... complicated, with your family and all. And I was wondering if..." He stopped mid-sentence, the words stuck in his throat.

It was even more difficult than he'd imagined.

But somehow Hong understood.

Hong tilted his head, eyes steady. "If I'd like to spend it with you?"

Nut let out a shaky breath. "Yeah... that."

Hong didn't answer right away. He just stared at Nut at first, expression soft.

Nut rushed on. "I'm going over to my Mom's again. She loves thanksgiving and always ends up making too much food for a tiny family of three... and I know she'll be happy to meet you..." He said, all in one breath. "it's just— I'd really like you to be there, Hong. If you want." He ended, small and hopeful.

Hong's smile came slow this time. The kind that started in his eyes and moved to his mouth last.

"I'd love to, Nut." He answered.

Nut felt something loosen in his chest, like a knot finally giving way. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

Nut exhaled again, louder this time, almost a laugh. "Okay. Okay. Good. That's... good."

Hong leaned forward a little, elbow on his desk, chin propped on his fist. "What time should I be ready?"

"I'll pick you up around three? it's about a three hour drive so we'll get there just in time for dinner."

Hong's eyes crinkled. "Three works."

Nut nodded.

He wanted to say more— thank you, or I'm glad, or I almost bought you flowers this morning— but he thought it better to just not speak again, maybe even for the rest of the day, lest he embarrass himself.

Instead, he just looked at Hong a second longer, memorizing the way the light hit his silver tresses, the way he sat there with ease— like this was something they did all the time.

Hong stared back openly, his smile remaining.

Nut eventually stopped staring, and faced his computer again.

And for the first time all morning, he could actually focus.

Well, kind of.

~~~

Est

Est came down the stairs the next afternoon, still half-lost in last night's restless thoughts— William's hand in his, the way it felt warm and sure. The way they held on for too long— not because they forgot but probably because they wanted to?

Est wasn't sure. Not on his part or Will's.

His head felt fuzzy, and his eyes were heavy from barely sleeping.

As he has halfway through the steps, he  stopped short.

William was already there, wearing a tank top that revealed his tattoos. He had one foot on the bottom step, blocking the way with his presence.

Est froze.

He hadn't expected him to be downstairs.

William looked up at him, calm as ever, but his eyes held something from yesterday— something knowing and familiar.

"Happy Thanksgiving..." William said, voice quiet.

Est's heart stuttered. "Thank you."

An awkward beat passed. Then Est opened his mouth. "Will, about last night—"

"What about it?" William asked, moving up another two steps slowly, making Est's heart race faster.

He stopped in front of Est, only one step separating them.

Est looked down at him, sensing the warmth from him.

William was close— close enough that Est could see the brown around his pupils, the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw. The warmth that came along with being human.

Est shook his head then, a small, soft smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing."

William tilted his head, gaze intense. "Why are you smiling?"

Est shook his head again, still smiling. "It's nothing..." He said, quieter this time. "I just... realized you're shorter than me."

William's eyes glinted and his lips curved— slow, deliberate. He stepped up the last stair, hand on the railing. Their bodies were a mere hairsbreadth apart now.

"Doesn't matter how tall you are..." He looked at Est, straight into his eyes, voice dropping low, smooth like silk. "I'll still handle you."

Est's breath hitched hard in his throat.

The air between them— barely there, but there— grew thick, magnetic.

William planted one foot between Est's, lifting himself up, the wood creaking under their weight. Est pressed backwards to make space, but there was no escape.

Now they were chest-to-chest, eye to eye, faces level.

Heat rolled off William's skin, landing on Est, heavy and unsteadying. Est felt it, like a current— like chemistry, seeping into his skin.

He trembled, heart slamming wildly. Every instinct screamed at him to pull away, to step back.

To breathe.

But his body wouldn't listen. His hand tightened on the railing, his lungs worked slowly, each breath short and uneven.

William's head moved, leaning in slowly, as though uncertain.

Est's breath caught again, and his eyes fluttered shut on impulse.

He waited, and waited for him to close the barely-there distance, lips already parted just a fraction, heart slamming so loud he was sure William could hear it.

But then a sharp knock cracked through the house, breaking their almost-kiss.

Est flinched and stumbled back a few steps, putting space between them.

William just cursed under his breath, jaw clenching tight in obvious irritation.

He looked up at Est's for a second— his eyes hungry, frustrated— before turning around and walking to the front door.

He yanked it open, face already set in annoyance.

An older woman was stood on the porch, holding a foil-covered tray in one hand and a fluffy white Persian cat in the other.

Sparkles blinked at him with surprise, the woman mirroring her expression.

William's nose twitched once, twice. Then he sneezed— hard and sudden. Unguarded, barely catching it with his hand.

"Oh my! Are you okay?" The woman cried, stepping forward to him.

With the cat.

Another sneeze ripped out of him and he dropped on his ass, trying to escape.

His eyes went red fast.

Est saw the cat, saw William's on the floor, and he bolted down the stairs.

"Mae— wait!" Est called.

He reached them in three strides, scooped Sparkles out of his mom's arms in one smooth motion.

The cat shrieked in protest and scrambled out of Est's hands, darting straight to the kitchen, tail high.

William sneezed again— three quick, violent ones. His face was turning red.

Est's mom hovered, worried. "Oh my darling, are you okay?"

"He's allergic to cats, Mae!" Est said quickly. "Please find Sparkles and take her upstairs. Then wash your hands— really well."

His mom's eyes went wide. "Oh no— oh honey— I'm so sorry—"

She ran practically through the tray on the floor, and hurried inside, calling out. "Sparkles! Come here, baby!"

The house turned chaotic— the soft click of heel skittering forward, sparkles screeching in protests, drawers opening and closing.

Est turned back to William.

He was bent forward now, on all fours, sneezing on the ground.

"Hey— hey, are you okay?" Est asked, voice soft.

William didn't answer. Only sneezed.

Est didn't wait. He stood and ran to the kitchen, grabbinc a few bottles of water from the fridge. Then he returned to William, grabbing his arm and steering him towards the front door.

"Come on outside. Let's get you some air."

William let himself be led. They stepped onto the yard and the cold afternoon air hit them both. Est twisted the cap off the bottle. "Lean over..." He said softly.

William bent at the waist, still sneezing. Est poured the water over his hair, opened the other and poured a little water into his cupped hand, gently washing William's red face.

William exhaled shakily between sneezes, body still wracking. Est kept pouring and washing, until the bottle emptied.

Then he set it down and rubbed slow circles over William's back. Up and down, with slow, steady pressure. "Breathe..." He murmured. "Just breathe through it."

William nodded weakly, eyes stinging, still sneezing.

It took about thirty minutes for William's sneezing to finally stop.

Est remained outside with him the whole time, rubbing his back in soothing motions until the heaving eased and William could finally stand straight again.

His eyes were still red and watery, but he managed a weak nod when Est asked if he could go back in.

Est leaned down and gathered the plastic bottles in his hand. Together, they walked to the house.

Inside, the house now smelled like roasted turkey sauce spilled over and the faint scent of detergent that mopped it away.

Est's mom— P'Jo, had already found and locked Sparkles in Est's room upstairs.

When he heard it, he almost laughed at the frown on William's face.

It was kind of ironic, Est thought, since he'd spent weeks convincing himself the room was his, only for the uninvited cat to be the one to finally reclaim it in.

Est took him to the guestroom he'd been occupying and left him to shower.

When William came back down, he was wearing another of Est's old sweatshirts and loose pants, his hair damp and sticking to his forehead.

He looked smaller somehow, worn out from all the sneezing, sitting at the kitchen counter with a tissue pressed to his nose.

Est watched him for a second, worry tight in his chest, before turning to his mom. She was sat across from William, hands folded on her lap, looking guilty.

"Mae, what are you doing here?" Est asked quietly.

She pouted, trying to avoid the inevitable scolding. "It's Thanksgiving, son. I wanted to spend it with you, so I brought roasted turkey."

Est groaned softly, rubbing the back of his neck, almost frustrated. "But why didn't you call first, Mae? How did you even come here? You know I don't like you driving long distances?"

"You would have said no." She countered, still pouting. "And I can take care of myself, Son."

"And what if I wasn't home?"

"I would have left the same way I came. Is it so bad that I want to spend time with you? You don't call me anymore." She scolded instead

Est sighed, shoulders dropping. Defeated.

He couldn't argue with that.

His mom turned to William then. "And I'm so sorry about the cat. I didn't know noo had someone over."

William lowered the tissue just enough to speak. "It's okay." He gave her a small nod, then looked at Est, pushing back from the counter. "I'm going to get some air."

Est nodded softly.

He walked out the kitchen and past the front door without another word.

Est's mom watched him go, then looked at Est. "You didn't have to hide this from me, you know."

Est frowned. "Hide what?"

"That you have a man over." She scolded.

Est blushed beet red.

He had become so used to William's presence, he'd forgotten how it was meant to be a secret. Forgotten how it startling it would be to the people close to him.

His mom reached across and touched his arm lightly, voice softening. "Est... I would have understood. The tattoo's are a little... questionable, but I'm really relieved you're finally going out again. It's been long enough, and you have every right to move on."

Est stared at the counter as she spoke.

He didn't correct her. Didn't deny. The words were firmly lodged, somewhere between his throat and his chest.

Maybe because the idea— of him and William— didn't feel as repulsive anymore.

Didn't feel impossible.

He shook off the thought quickly.

No.

It had to be impossible.

Him and Will? They weren't real.

They could never be.

Maybe his mom notiched his downcast expression. She quickly changed the subject, thank God. "So, how's your book coming?"

Est exhaled, grateful for the shift. "It's coming, Mae. I'm three chapters in and already halfway through the rough draft."

Her face lit up. "Really? Est, that's wonderful!" She stood up then. "I'm going to make something to eat. You two must be starving."

P'Jo stayed the whole day.

William kept to the living room or the porch, avoiding the upstairs area now that Sparkles had been locked away in his room.

Est floated in between them, tense, acutely aware of every move William made.

It almost made him sad.

Because he knew hos William would have probably fallen asleep without the intrusion.

But he didn't say anything. Didn't dig himself deeper.

For dinner, his mom had outdone herself.

The table was full— turkey, mashed potatoes and greens, some rice, some stir-fried basil.

She turned on the speaker in the corner and soft music filled the room. Then she poured wine, clinked glasses with each of them, and they ate slowly.

P'Jo turned to William after a bite. "So... William, where did you two meet?"

Est stiffened mid-bite.

For a moment William was quiet, so Est opened his mouth to interrupt.

But William answered first. "At the club." He said in that low, lazy tone Est was used to.

P'Jo cooed. "Oh, how romantic! I didn't know you go clubbing Est." She looked at her son, then back at Will. "Tell me more."

William seemed to think it over, eyes softening as though he were fond of the memory. "When I first saw him, he looked... sad. Broken. It made me fascinated with him." His eyes flicked to Est, dark and wanting. "I didn't understand the pull then. I just knew I wanted to swallow up all the sadness he carried with him."

Est's heart gave a hard, almost painful jump.

His eyes lowered to his plate, trying to steady himself, the heat crawling up his neck.

William's words had knocked him unsteady, in ways that felt wrong... but good.

Est's mom blinked, slightly bewildered. "Is that how young people flirt these days?"

William smirked, small and knowing.

Est quickly scooped more greens onto her plate. "Mae, eat your food. The turkey's getting cold."

She pinched his cheek in gratitude and took a bite, then looked at William again. "So what do you do?"

"I'm a businessman."

"Oh?" She perked up, glancing at Est. "What do you deal in?"

Est felt even hotter, not liking where the conversation was going.

William's smile grew wicked now. "I'm a potter." He lied with ease. "I own a store uptown in Bangkok."

Est's fork paused halfway to his mouth.

He hadn't known that.

Maybe it wasn't entirely a lie.

But it wasn't the full truth anyways.

Still, he kept his mouth shut, eating his food, while drinking in every word.

"That must be nice..." His mom said. "Peaceful work. You must be good. Your hands look strong but gentle."

Est choked on a piece of turkey, mind racing to wild places. His mom absent mindedly rubbed his back in concern, attention stolen by Will.

William ignored him, hiding a secret smile.

"And your family?" She asked gently, hand still soothing on Est's back.

"They're all dead." William said, voice carrying no emotion.

Est's heart dropped.

His head slowly lifted to look at Will.

He'd known about the father, but not... the mother too?

He stared at William, questions piling up behind his mouth.

His mom reached over, slowly covering William's hand with hers. "I'm so sorry, darling..." She said sympathetically. "I lost my parents young too. I know how hard it is for a child."

William looked at her hand, then at her face. And something fragile settled in his eyes.

She squeezed once, rubbing her thumb over the back. "You don't have to worry, William. From now on, Est and I— we're your family."

William smiled at her— small but real. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Call me Mae." She smiled at him.

William "Mae."

She hummed in satisfaction, before settling back in her seat, pulling her hand away. She l took another bite from her plate, then looked at Est. "So sweetheart, how's therapy going?"

William's gaze flicked to Est, looking curious.

Est hated being the center of attention now.

He shrugged, nonchalant. "I stopped going. I don't need it anymore."

His mom lips widened with a knowing smile. "Oui! I guess you don't." She wiggled her brows.

William's smile mirrored hers, voice teasing. "I guess not."

Est turned beet red. "Mae stop, you're embarrassing me."

She pinched his cheek again.

They ate for a few minutes in silence.

Then an upbeat old song came on— something bright and familiar.

His mom hummed in delight. "Ah! This used to be my favorite!"

She stood, gulped the rest of her wine, and then reached for William's hand. "Dance with me?"

To Est's surprise, William actually let her pull him up to the living room.

He watched from the opening as she did silly little steps— twirling, giggling just the way she used to with his father.

It warmed his heart seeing her like this. So cozy and beautiful.

William followed her amateur steps with smooth and easy confidence. He laughed once, when she almost tripped over her own feet. He then spun her across the living room in a motion that was graceful and effortless.

Est watched him closely, and as he watched, he realized what he probably always knew.

He was falling.

Or no— that wasn't true.

He had fallen. And he'd landed hard.

The thought scared him so much he forgot how to breath.

His mom noticed, but she might have confused his expression with something that looked like loneliness.

She came over, grabbed Est's hand, and tugged him up. Then she guided him to William, placing Est's hand on William's shoulder, William's on Est's waist.

Est shuddeered at the whole situation. But he didn't pull away.

And William?

William didn't look like he wanted to let go.

She then stepped back, smiling softly, like she'd won something.

The old song ended, and a new one came on— this one softer, slower. They started to move.

Est looked at William with half-lidded eyes, heart matching the rhythm of the song.

William looked at Est, completely disarmed, equally enamored.

They swayed back and forth to each lilting note, limbs wrapped around each other, heart at their feet.

Est's fingers curled against William's shoulder, feeling bone and muscle shift under the fabric of his sweats, memorizing the touch.

William's hand rested firmly on Est's waist, a little unsteady, as though he was holding something back.

Their chest heaved softly, their breathing mingled.

Est inhaled William's scent— clean soap, like Est's own clothes now, but underneath it William's scent— something icy with an earthy undertons.

Electricity crackled under Est's skin.

William's eyes kept pulling him in, deeper in ways that made him surrender.

Without thinking, Est leaned forward. Their foreheads touched and their nose slightly bumped. Their lips was just a breadth apart now, almost brushing. It was close— so close that they could feel the heat, but not the touch.

William didn't pull away.

He just kept guiding their slow sway.

Est's couldn't resist anymore. He lost control.

His palms slid up his shoulder, slow, lingering, before coming to rest on William's neck. He rubbed lightly with his thumb, caressing the strong vein there.

William's breath hitched softly, but he still guided their movement, letting Est explore as much as he wanted to.

He breathed through parted lips now, the air between them impossibly thick it was almost suffocating.

William's eyes kept him caged and his lips only seemed to call on him like a chant.

Est quickly moved his head to the side, resting it William's shoulder, before he leaned in and did something he knew would regret.

But that didn't help. It only drew him closer to that intoxicating scent. He moaned softly, breathing him in deeper.

William's fingers tightened on Est's waist— hard, almost painful.

Maybe it was restraint on his part.

Maybe it was something darker.

But Est didn't mind.

If anything he took pleasure in it. And his whole body burned from that one touch.

Right then he knew, if his mom wasn't here— watching them with soft, dazzled eyes— Est might have done more. Something he'd regret by morning.

He clung unto Will until their feet tired out.

And when he finally pulled away, it felt like the world had been pulled beneath his feet.

That night, Est couldn't sleep. He laid on the bed, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling.

His mom had taken his room with Sparkles.

William remained downstairs on the couch.

And Est?

His mind was down there with him. For hours, he kept replaying everything— the dance, the almost-kiss, William's hand bruising his waist, the way his body craved more.

His heart did an erratic dance in his chest with each though, and heat pooled low in his gut. Most notably of all, his mind was in a warped, wrecked state.

Unable to take it any longer, he slipped out bed, opened the door and went to the railing in the hallway.

There he looked down.

Below, William was still awake.

He was sprawled on the couch, one arm behind his head, eyes burning a hole in the ceiling with focus.

But somehow, he sensed Est's presence above him.

They locked gazes from across the space.

William didn't move. Didn't smile.

He just gave Est a quiet look that felt sensual and calculating at the same time.

Challenging even.

Est took a deep, shuddering breath.

He quickly turned around and went back to his room, still feeling unsteady.

And that night, he didn't get a moment of sleep.

~~~

Nut.

Nut pulled into the driveway of Hong's house a little earlier than he'd planned.

His hands were tight on the wheel and his heart was knocking hard against his ribs.

This was it.

He was chasing now.

There was no more waiting, no more pretending it was just casual.

He was gonna do this.

Taking another deep breath, he stepped out of the car.

Hong's door had opened and he was already jogging down the short path from the house, smile beaming, arms open.

Before Nut could say anything, Hong threw himself into his arms and wrapped him in a big, warm hug.

Nut stiffened for half a second, genuinely surprised, even when it had been expected. But then he relaxed and allowed himself to melt into it.

He leaned in, arms closing around his waist, cheek pressing against Hong's shoulder, breathing in the faint scent of clean laundry and something sweet like vanilla.

When Hong finally pulled back— just enough to look at him— he hummed softly. "I missed you..."

Nut looked at him, flustered. His mouth opened to speak but then Hong tugged him towards the house. "Come on."

Nut allowed himself to be pulled.

Inside, the place wasn't what he expected— small as it was. He'd expected minimalist interior, contemporary decor and expensive artworks.

But this wasn't that.

This was warm and cozy and very unlike Hong.

The living room had soft golden light from floor lamps, a thick cream rug underfoot, books stacked sideways on high shelves, a couple of potted plants spilling green over the windowsill.

The couch was small with mismatched throw pillows— one mustard yellow, the other faded blue.

The air inside smelled like cedar and coffee. It looked comfy and normal. Welcoming.

"Make yourself at home..." Hong said, pointing behind himself. "I'm gonna go get dressed. Don't wander too far."

Nut nodded, then smiled.

Hong gave him one last appraising look, before disappearing down the hall.

Nut looked around in the living room.

The large TV that still looked new and unused. A small vase that held pens and paper clips.

That made Nut laugh for some reason.

Then his eyes drifted to the large shelve in the corner. A framed photo caught his eyes and he carefully picked it up.

It was a photo of a teenaged Hong, who was maybe around sixteen with black hair. His arm was slung around another boy's shoulders and they both had wide grins on their faces, the sun catching the boy's glasses.

Probably the best friend he spoke of with wistful fondness.

Hong looked happy there, raw and open in a way Nut didn't see much of often.

He smiled to himself.

Hong had always had a flirtatious personality, and a mouth that talked too much, but this picture was different.

It made Nut's chest ache in a good way.

Made him want to be the one to put a smile on his face like this one, peel back the guarded layers he still had.

He looked around again.

There was a knitted blanket folded on the arm of the couch. A half-read novel face-down on the coffee table.

Everything here felt soft and personal.

Nut couldn't wait to become even more familiar.

A few minutes later, Hong came back. And completely stole Nut's breath away.

Hong was wearing a deep green, fitted silk button-up top, its sleeves buttoned up above his wrist, the bottom hem cropped just enough to show a thin strip of skin above the waistband of his shorts. He had on loose black high-waisted trousers he deliberately hung low on his hips.

His long hair was combed back, with a few soft bangs falling across his forehead. His face had light makeup on— subtle liner on his lids, a touch of gloss on his lips.

He looked... breathtaking.

And Nut couldn't help but be self-deprecating about the way he looked. Right now, he looked like a bum next to him in his denim jeans and simple black button-up shirt.

But that didn't stop Nut from staring.

And the word slipped out before he could stop it. "Breathtaking." It came out quieter though, a little shaky.

But Hong heard it, loud and clear. His smile came then, slow and soft. "Thank you."

After that, they stood there, staring. It was awkward, but the chemistry between them was just as intense— thick, pulsing. Impossible to ignore.

Nut tore his eyes away, clearing his throat. "We should... uhmm... we should get going."

Hong's smile widened. He nodded slowly. "Okay."

He moved forward, grabbed a small black shoulder bag from the hook by the door, and opened it.

It took everything Nut had in him to not state at the way his ass moved.

When they reached the car, Nut opened the door for him.

Hong said a silent "Thank you," before sliding in.

Nut shut the door, walked around, said a silent prayer to not 'fuck this up' and got behind the wheel.

The drive to his parents' was mostly quiet.

Every few minutes one of them said something small. Or unnecessary.

Mostly on Hong's part.

Nut like that alot. The way he always blurted out the most random things.

He occasionally stole glances at Hong.

Hong stared openly, practically undressing him with his eyes. His eyes devoured him everywhere— Nut's strong hands on the wheel, up his arms, the open button exposing his chest, his face, his mouth.

Everything.

Nut pretended not to notice.

Pretended the heat in his cheeks was from the heater. But he felt it, felt every look like a touch.

And he also liked that. Maybe a little too much.

Halfway there, Hong reached over.

His fingers slid between Nut's on the gearshift, slow and deliberate, as though testing the size, how their palms fit together. Their fingers lined up almost perfectly and Hong's thumb slowly stroked the back of Nut's hand in soft circles.

Nut's breathing stopped for a second.

Warmth spread up his arm, across his chest. And somehow, everything in that moment felt beautiful.

He hoped Hong wouldn't pull away.

Hong didn't.

The rest of the drive passed in heavy, charged silence.

When they finally arrived at the house, it was exactly as how Hong had imagined it to be.

Big but cozy, white walls, wide porch, string of yellow lights already glowing along the railing even though it wasn't really dark yet.

It looked like a place that had been surrounded by love for years.

Nut parked, jumped out, and ran around to open Hong's door.

Hong stepped out, lips curving into a flattered smile. Before his feet hit the ground fully, the front door flew open.

"Nut!" The woman— Nut's mom, Hong presumed— hurried down the steps, arms spread wide. When she arrived, she pulled him into a bone crushing hug, Nut groaning with the force.

His father approached slower, hands on his waist, shaking his head at his wife's excitement.

"Hey, Mom..." Nut laughed softly, squished in her embrace before dragging his hands out and hugging her back.

Hong watched them with warm, entertained eyes.

Nut had his mom's gentle eyes, but that bright, easy smile? That was all his dad.

She let go of Nut, patted his shoulder, before she turned to Hong. She didn't ask questions or hesitate, she just pulled him straight into a similar hug too.

Hong choked lightly at the crushing grip closing around him.

He guessed Nut also got his heavy, strong arms from her.

"You must be Hong. Nut's told us all about you." She murmured against his shoulders.

Hong adjusted enough to breathe, face turning red.

"Mom, let him go, please." Nut laughed nervously.

His mom caught herself. "Oh i'm sorry. I keep forgetting bear hugging is my specialty." She said, freeing Hong.

"You hug bears?" Hong asked, baffled, slightly out of breath.

"I wrestle them. Only the brown and the black ones though..." She said proudly. "Gotta be careful with the white ones. Those'll kill you."

Hong's smile widened though his eyes looked a bit frightened. "Thats... amazing???"

Nut chuckled at the bewildered expression on Hong's face and decided to free the poor guy. "Don't listen to her. She's fucking with you."

"Ha! I got you so good." She lightly punched Hong's side in her excitement, making him slightly fold over and clutch his side.

Nut threw his head, cracking up, his laugh soundless.

"Sweetheart you see that!" She turned to her husband, unaware of Hong's pain, pointing back at the wheezing silver-haired. "He bought it. And you have the nerve to call me a bad liar."

"Julie stop punching people. You know how strong your hands are." The man said, exhausted, before moving forward to gently patted Hong's back. "Are you okay son?"

"Oh! Oh my God, i'm sorry. I didn't mean too." She said apologetic.

Hong nodded and gave a weakened thumbs up. Then he slowly straightened, shooting a nasty glare at Nut who had bent forward with laughter, tears wetting his face.

The older man gave him a sorry look. "I apologize about my wife. She gets too excited around new people. I'm Khun Nont, Nut's father." He held out a hand. "Nut's told us all about you."

Hong took it, grip firm, though his other hand still clutched his ribs. "He's told you about me?"

"Oh, yes." P'Julie answered. "He talks about you a lot."

Nut stopped laughing and blushed instead.

"Oh?" Hong gave Nut an impressed, very pleased look. "Then you must already love me." He said, usual cocky edge returning. "I was worried I'd have to use my voodoo powers to win you over."

His parents laughed, bright and warm.

"Is that so? Well, I can't wait to see them in action." P'Julie said. "Welcome to our home, Hong. We hope you have a great time with us."

Hong looked at Nut— whose cheeks was still colored, smile intact— and warmth swelled in his chest. He looked back at them. "I already am." He answered earnestly.

Together, they started towards the porch.

But then the door opened again.

And a man stepped out.

He was tall man with an easy smile, and his hands in his pockets.

Nut's face drained of all the colour and his smile slowly slipped away.

"Boom..." Nut said quietly when the man was close enough.

Boom's smile stayed warm, intact. "Phi."

The air turned stale then. Awkward with evident shared history.

Khun Nont cleared his throat. "Boom got here about an hour ago. He wanted to surprise us."

Nut nodded and forced a smile. Though it didn't reach his eyes. "Right..." He turned to Hong. "Let's go in." He ushered him forward.

Hong gave the new stranger an unreadable look before passing him.

Inside, dinner was warm.

Nut's family was warm.

Laughter bounced around the table. They shared stories— mostly about Nut as a kid— like treasures.

How he once ate an entire bunch of bananas with the peel on. How he climbed an orange tree and got stuck for two hours.

Nut groaned, hands covering his face, embarrassed. "Mae, can we not?"

His mom laughed. "Oh he was so silly. My husband and I were worried. We wondered if he'd ever really be able to take care of himself when he grew up..." She sighed softly with memory of long gone days, folding the table cloth absent-mindely. "But then he grew up..."

She asked Hong gentle questions— his favorite foods, what he liked to do on weekends.

Nothing about his family.

Hong didn't know if Nut had mentioned it was a non-topic or if his presence here was a give away.

But he was grateful for it— that small kindness.

Something ruffled Hong though, amidst the warmth and ease.

Across the table, Boom kept looking at Nut. Not just casually, but looking. It was all soft smiles, and lingering glances.

Like he was waiting to be noticed.

It burned something hot in his chest.

When their eyes met— Boom's warm and steady, Hong's cold and precise— Hong didn't blink.

He stared back, territorial. Challenging him. Daring him to keep going. Underneath his look, he aimed a quiet threat.

Boom got the message, and looked away first. He didn't look at Nut anymore.

Hong's eyes returned to his plate. And he smiled inwardly, feeling victorious.

When Nut's mom asked if he wanted more greens, he nodded like nothing happened.

The rest of dinner passed easy.

Hong's hand found Nut's under the table—fingers lacing tight, possesively.

Nut squeezed back, just as hard.

Hong liked that.

He wondered if Nut would squeeze him just as hard tonight.

Later, after dinner had ended and the table was cleared, Nut and Hong ended up at the kitchen sink.

Nut washed, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, soap suds sliding down his tatted forearms, fingers meticulous on each plate like they were the finest piece of china.

Hong stood close— too close— rinsing and drying, hip brushing Nut's every now and then.

With each dish he dried, Hong shifted nearer.

Their shoulders met eventually, and pressed. Water splashed on the hem of Hong's silk shirt, darkening the green fabric in wet patches that clung to his skin.

Nut laughed at him, told him it was what he deserved.

Hong sprayed water back at him. He wasn't the only who could get wet.

Quiet settled then as they returned to their small task.

Hong stole glances as always— open and shameless— watching the line of Nut's jaw, the way the water droplets dried on his face, the way it settled on the strong vein just above his collar.

Nut pretended not to notice Hong noticing him.

He broke the quiet eventually, voice soft, almost lost under the running tap. "I'm really glad you came, Hong."

Hong blinked, startled out of his reverie. He smiled, setting a plate in the drainer. "Me too." He paused, before adding, much quieter. "Your family is so warm, Nut."

Nut smiled a little, rinsing another fork. "Thanks... I'm glad you like them."

"I love them..." Hong said simply. He scraped at a stubborn spot Nut had missed. "It's easy to see why you're the way you are. Because of them."

Nut's hands stilled under the water for a second, warm in unsteadying ways.

Hong smiled— small, private— still wiping dish after dish.

After a beat, he asked, casual but a little pointed. "Who is he? The man at the table."

Nut's gaze darkened.

His hands paused momentarily, before resuming, soap bubbles swaying against his wrist. "Just someone from my past. Someone I hoped to forget."

Hong hummed low in his throat. He nudged Nut's hip again. "Should I feel threatened?" He asked, playful even when he was serious

That pulled a surprised laugh out of Nut "Threatened?" He asked, like the question was absurd.

Hong set the last plate down gently.

Then he turned, body fully pressing against Nut's side. Without warning he wrapped both arms around Nut's neck, pulling him close, the full length of his body settling against his.

They were chest to chest, hip to hip, eye to eye.

Nut's heart slammed so hard Hong felt it against his own ribs. His breathing became unsteady, shallow.

Hong stared straight into his eyes— his small pupils shining— earnest, unguarded. 

"I'm being serious, though." Hong's voice dropped, barely a note. "You should know by now I'm serious about you."

Nut swallowed, throat bobbing visibly. When he finally spoke, his voice came out hoarse, but true. "I'm serious about you too, Hong."

Hong's gaze lowered to Nut's mouth. Then back to his eyes. Then to his lips again.

He bit his own bottom lip— slow and deliberate. Inviting.

That one act unravelled Nut. His control snapped and he closed the space between them.

The first touch of their lips felt like something finally clicking into place— finally, finally right.

The relief that flooded through them was almost dizzying.

Hong kept his eyes open, drinking in Nut's face— the way his eyes shut and his lashes fluttered, the way tension melted from his brow, calm at last.

Nut kissed him in short but full presses— tender, reverent but claiming all the same—mouth opening Hong's gently each time.

Hong moaned softly into it, chest filling so tight it almost hurt. Nut's lips tasted like home— like they'd always been meant to be his.

Nut deepened the kiss.

Hong let his eyes fall shut then, completely surrendering control.

He moaned against Nut's tongue when it slipped inside his mouth— wet, slow, exploratory— the sound vibrating against their pulsing bodies. Sparks shot down Hong's spine, making him twitch in response, pressing harder into Nut.

He moaned again— this time louder, chasing the same thrill— their breaths mingling hot and messy.

Nut's hands found Hong's waist.

With one smooth, effortless lift that made Hong shiver, he set Hong on the slightly wet counter. Hong's legs parted instinctively and Nut stepped between them, pressing close, filling the space.

Hong cupped Nut's face with both hands, kissing him deeper— sucking on his tongue, teasing his bottom lip with small nips, before soothing with open-mouthed licks.

He rolled his hips forward once, grinding slowly, the fabric of their trousers giving way to desire. He caught Nut's hand then, guided it down from his waist to the curve of his ass.

Nut didn't hold back. He cupped him firmly, kneading roughly, enough to make Hong tremble.

He broke the kiss abruptly, just enough to whisper against his mouth, breaths rough and unsteady. "Can we go to your room?"

Nut nodded fast, hungrily, lip caught between his teeth, trying to trap the memory of their kiss.

Hong's eyes gleamed and unable to resist, he kissed him again— this time hungrier now. His tongue pushed inside, and both of them moaned when Hong sucked hard on it.

They froze when someone cleared their throat, somehow even pressing tighter, face flushing with impulsive embarrassment.

But it was Boom.

He was stood in the doorway, another empty bowl in hand.

Hong felt a flash of anger spike through the haze— both at the empty dish and the sudden interruption.

Boom smiled tightly but his voice stayed even. "P'Nut, Your mom wants to see you."

Nut exhaled, shoulders rising and dropping. "Okay." His voice was rough.

He helped Hong down from the counter, holding him gently in a way that made Hong's heart squeeze, then pinched Hong's chin softly between his thumb and finger, his touch intimate and claiming.

Hong smiled and watched him walk away.

Boom nodded as Nut passed him and then moved to the sink.

Hong's smile dropped and he clenched his jaw in obvious annoyance.

Boom glanced over, smiling to himself. "You don't like me very much, do you?"

"I don't like the way you look at him." Hong said, honest and unfiltered.

Boom laughed— quiet, tired. "Fairs."

Silence hung in the air, heavy and hostile.

Hong couldn't stand to breath it in. He turned to leave.

But Boom's voice stopped him. "You know, I knew Nut from childhood..." He started softly, hands rubbing steady under the water. "We were so close back then, everyone somehow thought we would end up together."

Hong suddenly felt homicidal. His fingers twitched, his jaw clenched tighter.

But he stayed still, didn't do anything stupid.

"We were together for a time... but after I lost my parents, things changed." He paused to take a steadying breath.

Hong didn't spare him any sympathy— neither in his words nor in his body language.

"Nut's family took me in..." Boom continued without a care. "And yeah... Nut loved me first. He wanted to save me. Maybe that should have been enough to pull me out of the dark." He looked at Hong then, self pity embedded in their depths. "But grief doesn't let you cherish anything good. Only fills your world with dark murky waters and lets you drag everyone you love underneath with you."

Hong still stood, gaze cold, leveled.

"I turned to drugs, lost my mind. Nut had to pull away to keep his own sanity." He said, voice dry like he didnt care, like he was over it.

But his tone was his biggest giveaway he wasn't. He turned the tap on, rinsing the bowl. "I see myself in you, you know."

Hong laughed then, shaking his head softly. "Are you trying to say he has a type? Do I look like a lost cause?"

"Hmm..." Boom met his eyes. "I think you are... Broken people can tell, you know. It's like looking at a mirror."

That silenced Hong.

Boom's lips pressed into a line, expression thoughtful. Then. "Nut's going to try to save you too, Hong. I hope you let him."

Hong's heart thumped wildly in his chest.

He hated how possible Boom's words were. How true he was about him.

He kept his composure though. Didn't give anything away.

He smiled then but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're talking shit." He said coldly. "Nut and I... we're partners. We save each other."

Boom laughed again, clearly seeing though his facade. "Well. I hope it lasts."

Hong gave him one last irritated look, then walked out.

Later that night— after goodnights to Nut's parents and a stiff nod to the still lingering Boom— Nut and Hong climbed the stairs to Nut's bedroom.

Hong wandered the small space, taking in every little-big detail.

His single bed was pushed against the far left of wall— narrow but perfect for tangling close, which was his intention tonight.

Old football trophies lined up a suprisingly neat shelf. His old cleats were tucked in the corner. A team photo was placed on the small desk.

Hong picked it up and caught a younger Nut instantly— kneeling at the far right, his hair longer, his uniform stained, and a wide grin splitting his face.

Nut paused in the doorway, watching him with those steady, intense eyes of his.

Hong picked up a smaller framed picture of a ten-year-old Nut at the Grand Canyon, eyes crinkled into crescents, smile so big it looked like it hurt.

Hong smiled, brushing his fingers over the glass, careful, reverent.

Nut shut the door then with a soft click and slowly came up behind him.

His arms slid around Hong's waist, pulling him into him and he pressed his face to Hong's shoulder, breathing his scent in.. "That was when they took me to the Grand Canyon."

Hong leaned back into the hold, finger curling around the arm around his waist, feeling secure. "You were really cute."

Nut huffed a soft laugh against his neck. "Unlike now?"

"Hmmm..." Hong turned in his arms, and looked up at him— yearning raw in his eyes.

Then he leaned forward and captured his lips with his.

They made out standing there— slow at first, lips sliding with ease, tongues brushing lazy and deep like it was familiar.

Their hands roamed everywhere.

Hong's fingers tangled in Nut's hair. Nut's palms mapped the long, elegant curve of Hong's back, then lower, cupping his ass again, pulling him flush against him.

They stumbled towards the bed, fell together— Nut flat on his back, Hong above him, straddling him.

The mattress dipped under their weight.

Nut braced an arm behind his head, eyes locked on the man above him.

Hong pulled back just enough, seating on his covered, hardening length. His fingers lingered at Nut's collar. "Can I?" He asked, voice a hush.

Nut's voice was wrecked. "Yes."

Hong didn't hesitate. He slipped the buttons open, one by one, slow, seductive. The shirt eventually parted and Nut's chest was exposed, smooth skin covered in dark ink scattered about.

There seemed to be no real theme, just pieces on places he'd liked.

Hong had seen the traces before— the outline of sharp lines, and swirling patterns underneath fabric.

But he'd never seen them this up close, this raw and naked.

Hong leaned up, kissed the edge of what seemed to be the start of an eagle wing on Nut's shoulder.

Nut made a soft, broken noise— half groan, half sigh.

"Where'd you get this one?" Hong murmured against his skin.

Nut looked at him with hungry, almost impatient eyes.

"After I graduated from the academy..." He said weakly, breaths uneven. "I wanted one like my peers. So I got it. Liked it so much I kept going back."

"Hmm..." Hong kissed another— a symbol he couldn't decipher. "And this? What does it mean?"

Nut's hand slid into Hong's hair. "It has no special meaning. I picked it because it felt right."

Hong kissed another. "It does have meaning. It makes you look very sexy."

Nut cupped Hong's face.

And kissed him again— harder, more possessive. He broke away just to whisper against his mouth. "I think you're sexy too."

That shot a thrill through Hong.

They kissed again— deeper this time, hungrier.

Hong whispered between breaths, between wet kisses. "I know it's your parents' house... but can we do more?"

Nut groaned low, nearly out of his mind. "Like what?"

Hong's hand slid down and he cupped Nut through his pants— feeling the girth, the length under denim.

He moaned softly, heat gathering in his core. He gave that covered length firm, teasing strokes. 

Nut's eyes fluttered shut, swallowing a moan, vein popping in his throat.

"Can I? I really want to suck you off." Hong pressed a kiss to his ear, hand working slow and rhythmic. "Want to hear the sounds you make... want to know what you taste like." His hand slid lower, and he cupped where his ballsack lay trapped beneath his jeans.

Nut's hips jerked once, deeper, a loud groan tearing from his throat.

He caught Hong's wrist— gentle but staying.  "Fuck— I want to. God, I want to." He said, breathless, looking wrecked.

Hong liked the look, quickly memorized it.

He kissed Nut again, slower, sliding his mouth from top to bottom lip, in a messy, sloppy rhythm.

"Hong..." Nut murmured against his lips.

"I want you, Nut. I've been waiting so long..."

"I know..." He whispered, wrecked. "But we shouldn't." He said, a little firmer this time. "Not here, on this tiny bed. Not for our first time."

Hong paused then, looking down at him.

Nut looked weak but serious, already decided.

Before, Hong ego might have been bruised.

But he could see the raw, struggling restraint in Nut's eyes. And that calmed him into submission.

He could wait a day more.

Or even a year.

If Nut commanded him to, he'd do it.

"I don't want us careful." Nut kept explaining, reaching up to rub his back in soothing but enticing circles. "When we do it, I want it... all the way."

The words— raw and honest— made Hong's heart flutter hard. He smiled softly at him. "Okay, then ..." He whispered. "I'll wait."

Then he kissed Nut again— unable to resist, clearly addicted.

Nut tasted like cold spring water— clean, endless— and yet somehow, still not enough to quench his thirst.

They kissed until lips were swollen, until their breathing turned ragged.

Until they both wore each other out and exhaustion finally pulled them apart.

Hong curled info Nut's chest, stroking gentle circles against the inked skin. He fell asleep listening to his heartbeat— steady and warm.

Finally his.

Nut stayed awake a little longer, fingers tracing slow, lulling patterns on Hong's back.

Eventually he gave in, and fell asleep too.

__________________________________

Author's note:

Hi my lovelies... i know you're probably tired of my excuses and failed promises, so i'll spare you them this time. I hope you enjoy what I've written. See you on wednesday🫶