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By the time the third movie ended, it was much later than anyone planned. The credits rolled to the sound of sleepy sighs and the soft crinkle of empty chip bags. The once lively room now carried that comfortable hush that settles after hours of laughter — a silence that didn’t feel empty, just content.
Punch was the first to leave, stretching her arms with a groan and announcing that her mom was waiting downstairs. Nut and Hong followed soon after, their laughter still echoing faintly as they teased each other on the way out the door.
Tui and Lego lingered behind, tidying up the table and stacking takeout boxes into neat piles.
“How are you getting home, Lego?” Est asked, gathering the leftover chips.
“Tui will drop me off, as always,” Lego said with a grin.
“Yeah,” Tui confirmed, his expression calm and steady. “He’s on the way home anyway.” He glanced at William. “You?”
William shook his head. “I’ll stay and help clean up.”
Est blinked, a little surprised by the offer.
Tui’s calm expression didn’t change, but his eyes held William’s for a brief, silent moment of complete understanding. He gave a single, knowing nod.
“Alright,” Tui said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “Don’t stay up too late.”
Est walked them to the door, waving as they disappeared down the hallway. When he came back, the apartment felt a little too quiet — except for the soft splash of running water and the faint clinking of plates.
William was in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, washing dishes with quiet focus. The gentle rhythm of his movements, the faint scent of soap, the dim light catching on the droplets sliding down his forearm — it made Est pause.
There was something oddly domestic about it. William looked so natural there, standing in Est’s kitchen like it was something he’d done a hundred times. The sight tugged at something deep in Est’s chest — a warmth, a familiarity that felt dangerous because it was too easy to imagine it lasting.
He caught himself staring and quickly looked away, collecting the rest of the plates from the living room.
“Move over, I’ll finish those,” Est said, setting the dishes beside him.
“Nope,” William said without looking up. “I’ll do it. Just drop them there.”
Est crossed his arms, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “William, you have a helper at home. I doubt you’re used to washing dishes.”
William chuckled under his breath. “Of course I wash dishes. What do you think I am, a spoiled brat?”
Est tilted his head, lips twitching. “Yes, actually.”
William turned, giving him a playful glare. “My parents taught me to clean up after myself. We might have help, but that doesn’t mean I can’t handle basic chores. I just can’t cook.”
Est laughed softly. “Alright, alright. I’ll just clean the living room.”
By the time Est finished folding blankets and stacking pillows, the apartment had gone quiet again. When he walked back to the kitchen, William was wiping the counter — his movements slow, precise, almost reluctant to end the night.
“Wow,” Est said, leaning on the counter. “I’m impressed.”
William looked up, feigning offense. “Thanks, I guess?”
Est smiled. “Seriously. Thanks for helping, Will.”
William shrugged lightly. “No problem.”
Est glanced at the clock. “It’s already late. Why don’t you just crash here tonight?”
William turned to him, eyes widening a little. “Really?”
Est shrugged, trying to sound casual. “I figured since I’m going to your house tomorrow, we can just go together.”
A small, genuine smile spread across William’s face. “That’s a great idea. I’ll message my mom, tell her I’m staying here tonight.”
Est froze. “Oh right… your mom.” He remembered the earlier encounter — her easy warmth, the teasing tone, the way she hugged him like they’d known each other for years. “She said she’d talk to you tonight. Maybe you should go home.”
William waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. She’s not that strict. As long as I tell her where I am, she’s okay.”
Est hesitated, lips pressing together. William noticed the doubt in his eyes and smiled. “Don’t worry, Est. My parents are cool.”
Est sighed, then nodded. “Okay, if you say so.” He turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll get you something to change into.”
William followed, grinning, clearly teasing. “Are you going to request a cuddle again, hmm, baby Est?”
Est spun around, glaring. “You’re sleeping on the floor.”
William laughed, unbothered. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are — and that’s final.” Est’s tone was sharp, though his ears were already red.
William matched it, his voice lowering. “Est, I’m not sleeping on the floor.”
“Oh? So you expect me to?” Est asked, grabbing a blanket.
“No one’s sleeping on the floor,” William said stubbornly. “Your bed’s big enough for two. And it’s not like it’s the first time.”
“That was different. I was sick!” Est said, glaring at him.
William’s gaze hardened slightly. “And? I’m still not sleeping on the floor.” He flopped down on the bed, sprawling like he owned it.
“Argh, get up! You haven’t even changed!” Est exclaimed.
William didn’t move.
Est sighed — half annoyed, half amused. “Fine. You can stay on the bed.”
“Good,” William said immediately, grinning as he stood up to change.
Est shoved a shirt and shorts at him a little too hard. “You’re unbelievable.”
Later, the lights dimmed. The room was quiet except for the hum of the aircon and the faint scent of vanilla mist in the air.
“Thanks for letting me crash,” William murmured after a moment. His voice had gone softer, stripped of its teasing tone.
“Shut up and go to sleep,” Est said, turning his back to him.
William chuckled quietly. “Still no cuddles?”
Est’s eyes snapped open. “Seriously—” He grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “You. Are. The. Worst.”
William laughed, shielding his head. “Okay, okay! I’ll stop teasing! Promise.”
Est turned away again, cheeks burning, but the smile wouldn’t leave his lips.
The room fell into an easy silence again.
After a moment, Est could feel it — William’s gaze lingering on him. He turned slightly, their eyes meeting in the faint glow from the window.
William’s expression had softened completely, all his usual sharpness gone. Just warmth. Just him.
“Good night, Est,” he whispered.
Est hesitated, then slowly moved closer, resting his head on William’s chest. William froze — just for a heartbeat — then his arms came up to hold him, gentle and protective, like he was afraid to break the moment.
“Good night,” Est whispered back.
And that’s how they fell asleep — tangled in warmth, in quiet, in the kind of peace that comes when two people finally stop pretending they’re not falling for each other.
___
Est woke first. For a long moment, he didn’t move. The room was still dim, filtered with the pale gold of late morning light slipping through the curtains.
William was lying on his side, one arm draped loosely over Est’s waist, his face half-buried in the pillow. Even in sleep, his brows were slightly furrowed, like he was annoyed at something in his dream.
Est smiled faintly, a soft sound escaping his throat — something between a sigh and a chuckle. How could someone look so fierce on the outside yet be so gentle underneath?
William was a contradiction that Est couldn’t stop trying to understand. He could be sharp and impatient with strangers, yet when it came to the people he cared about, he was impossibly patient.
His parents must have raised him well, Est thought, tracing the faint crease between William’s brows with his eyes. The thought of his parents made his stomach twist.
Lunch.
His heart jumped.
He checked the clock. “Oh my god.”
The green digits glared back at him — 10:12.
Beside him, William stirred at the sound of his voice, his arm tightening instinctively before he blinked awake. His voice came out rough, low, and sleepy. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s ten already!” Est said, sitting up too quickly. “Get up — we still need to pass by the mall!”
William blinked, clearly not processing yet. “Why do we need to go to the mall?”
“Because it’s polite to bring something when visiting someone’s home,” Est said in a rush, already running a hand through his hair. “Dessert or anything. Now get up.”
William groaned, burying his face in the pillow for one last second. “You’re too polite.”
“William,” Est said warningly.
“Fine, fine.” William finally sat up, his hair a complete mess, eyes half-lidded, and voice still thick with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, looking so unguarded, so human in that moment that Est almost forgot his own nerves.
__
William’s mom greeted them warmly the moment they arrived.
“Oh, Est, finally!” she said, pulling him into a hug. She turned to William next, kissing his cheek before stepping back with a smile. “Darling, why don’t you take Est to your room first? Auntie Alma and I are still finishing lunch.”
William nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets as he led Est upstairs.
Est followed quietly, his heartbeat a little faster than usual. Not from nerves — more a sharpened sense of presence, the feeling that comes with stepping into someone else’s world, somewhere that matters..
When William opened the door to his room, Est paused in the doorway. The space was unexpectedly warm — sunlight spilling across pale wooden shelves lined with books, a few records stacked by the player, a faint trace of sandalwood in the air.
Est’s eyes wandered. “We have similar taste in books,” he said, smiling as he scanned the spines.
“I know,” William replied, leaning casually against the wall. “I noticed that the first time I saw yours.”
Est turned, grinning. “You were so cute as a kid.” He picked up a photo frame from the shelf — a small William, round-cheeked and scowling at the camera. “And even then, you already had a resting bitch face.”
William burst out laughing. “Wow. Compliment of the year.”
Est chuckled, setting the frame back carefully.
Then William’s tone softened. “Is this what you imagined my room would look like?”
Est thought for a moment, looking around again. “Honestly? I used to think it’d be dark. Posters of rock bands, a messy desk, maybe a guitar in the corner.” He glanced at William and smiled faintly. “But after getting to know you… this fits. Tidy, calm, warm.”
William didn’t reply right away. His gaze lingered on Est — the way he stood there, sunlight touching the side of his face, fingers brushing the edge of his sleeve as he spoke. Something shifted in his chest.
Their eyes met — and held.
A quiet pull drew them closer. William took a slow step forward, then another. Est didn’t move back. The air felt thick, the silence sharp enough to hear the faint tick of the clock.
Their breaths found the same rhythm — shallow, uneven, charged. William’s gaze dipped, flickering to Est’s lips — a tiny, involuntary motion that made Est’s pulse spike.
He could feel it now — the warmth of William’s breath, the nearness that blurred reason. His heart pounded hard enough to make him dizzy.
They were close enough for the edge of their lips to almost brush —and then—
“Lunch is ready!” William’s mom called from downstairs, her voice slicing through the quiet like a bell.
Both of them froze, instinctively stepping apart. The air between them seemed to tremble with everything that almost happened.
William coughed, his ears faintly red. “Let’s… go?”
Est nodded, unable to trust his voice. “Yeah.”
__
Lunch felt surprisingly easy.
The table was filled with comforting smells, soft chatter, and the gentle clinking of cutlery.
William’s parents were warm and engaging — people who naturally made everyone feel at home.
His dad, a renowned neurosurgeon, carried himself with the same quiet steadiness as William. His mom, a pediatrician, radiated a nurturing warmth that made everything around her feel lighter. Watching them together, Est began to understand where William’s calm and hidden tenderness came from.
“Honey, Lego mentioned that our Est here is a swimmer,” William’s mom said brightly, spooning more food onto Est’s plate despite his protests.
“Oh, really?” his dad replied with genuine interest, a smile tugging at his lips. “That’s wonderful!”
William looked smug. “He’s not just a swimmer — he’s a gold medalist.”
Est groaned softly, ducking his head as a blush crept up his neck. “William, please…,” he muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched with a reluctant smile.
William laughed, eyes glinting. “He’s also very humble.”
His dad chuckled. “Your parents must be so proud — to have such a talented and well-mannered son.”
The words hit deeper than Est expected. He smiled, voice soft. “Thank you.”
The meal flowed naturally, full of light teasing, shared stories, and the kind of laughter that made the walls feel alive.
After lunch, they moved to the living room. William’s mom eventually slipped out of the room and returned with a small album.
“Here,” she said, grinning as she flipped it open. “You should see what William looked like when he was three.”
Est leaned closer — and immediately burst out laughing. “Oh my god. Is that frosting on your nose?”
William groaned. “Mae…”
But his mom only laughed harder, turning the page to reveal little William in a doctor’s costume, clutching a toy stethoscope.
“Ambitious from the start,” she teased.
Est could barely stop laughing, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Every so often, he’d glance at William — catching the mix of exasperation and affection in his expression. There was something endearing about seeing him like this: vulnerable, real, surrounded by love.
Time passed unnoticed. The sun slipped lower.
Est hadn’t realized how comfortable he’d become — how natural it felt to sit there, chatting and laughing as if he’d done it a hundred times before.
So when William’s mom looked up with an easy smile and asked, “Est, why don’t you stay for dinner?” he didn’t hesitate. He smiled, warmth blooming in his chest. When his eyes met William’s across the seat, something steady and sure settled in him.”I’d love to.”
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