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When they got to Est’s parents’ house that late afternoon after the party, the sky had already started to turn gold. As soon as they stepped inside, Est felt something loosen in his chest — a quiet calm that only this house seemed to bring.
He led William straight to his bedroom. The door creaked a little when he pushed it open, revealing a space frozen in time — old posters, books stacked unevenly by the window.
“I want to see your trophies, Est,” William said suddenly, his eyes sweeping over the room like he was trying to memorize every corner of it.
“What? Why?” Est asked, half-laughing, half-embarrassed, unsure why that made his heart skip.
William shrugged, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “I want to see the result of your hard work over the years — especially the ones I wasn’t there to witness.”
Est froze for a moment. The words were simple, but they hit him deep — like William wasn’t just curious, but trying to fill in all the years he’d missed, to understand the boy Est had been before he ever knew him. There was something tender in that.
Without thinking, Est closed the distance between them and kissed him hard. It wasn’t a careful kiss — it was sudden, unrestrained, like a floodgate breaking open. William’s hand immediately came up to cradle Est’s jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of his mouth, steadying him. Est’s fingers curled into the fabric of William’s shirt, pulling him closer until their chests pressed together.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were smiling, a little dazed, breaths mingling in the quiet.
“I wish I knew you sooner,” Est whispered, voice low and unsteady.
William’s lips curved softly. “Me too.”
They stood there for a moment — close enough to feel each other’s breath — before Est finally reached for his hand. “Come on,” he said, his voice lighter now. “They’re in my parents’ room.”
He led William down the hall, where the soft afternoon light streamed through the window and fell across the shelves lined with trophies and medals. Some were from grade school, others from high school — each one a story of a younger Est who had worked quietly, who never imagined someone like William would someday be here to see them.
William moved closer, taking his time. He bent slightly, reading the small engraved plates, fingers brushing over the cool metal like he was afraid to smudge something sacred. “You’ve always been this hardworking, huh?” he said, smiling faintly — but there was admiration behind it, and a trace of awe.
Est laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess so.”
After dinner, the house was once again alive with warmth and laughter. Est’s mom told stories that made everyone laugh, and his dad proudly mentioned how disciplined Est had always been.
William sat between Est and Earn, listening intently. He wasn’t just being polite — his smile reached his eyes, genuine and tender, like he was piecing together parts of Est’s world one story at a time. Every now and then, Est would glance at him, and something inside him would tighten — that familiar mix of affection and disbelief that William was really here, with him, fitting so easily into his life.
At one point, William excused himself quietly and disappeared down the hall. Est thought he’d just gone to the restroom, but a few minutes later, he returned holding a small paper bag in both hands.
“Oh dear, you don’t have to get me anything,” Est’s mom said, startled but smiling as she reached for it.
“You never told me you bought a gift,” Est said, grinning as he tugged William back down to sit beside him.
Inside was a delicate bottle of perfume wrapped in soft paper. Est’s mom gasped, delighted. “Oh my, a perfume! And it smells so good!”
“Let me smell!” Earn said, already leaning forward. She took the bottle, inhaled, and laughed. “Ohhh, it really does! I want one for my birthday — it’s in April, by the way.”
“P’Earn!” Est groaned, half-laughing, half-mortified.
William chuckled, eyes bright with amusement. “It’s actually my mom’s recommendation,” he explained. “And she also wanted you to have this.” He placed a large food container on the table, the faint scent of coconut and pandan escaping from it. “It’s Khanom Krok — my Mae and Auntie Alma cooked them for all of you. I learned from Est that it’s polite to bring something when visiting someone’s home.”
Est’s parents laughed, touched by the gesture. His dad smiled warmly. “You’re raised well, son. Please thank your Mae and Auntie Alma for us.”
William nodded, bashful but happy. “I will, Por.”
Later that night, after the laughter faded into the low hum of crickets, Est and William slipped out into the back garden. The moonlight shimmered over the pool, and the air was cool.
Est, still buoyant from the evening, nudged William playfully. “Come on. Night swim.”
William hesitated for all of two seconds before giving in, laughing as he followed Est into the water. The pool glowed faintly under the porch light — soft ripples catching reflections from the stars above.
They floated near each other in the quiet, their voices low, carried by the sound of water lapping gently against the tiles.
“Your family’s amazing,” William said after a long pause, his voice barely above a whisper.
Est turned toward him, swimming closer. “Yeah,” he said, smiling softly. “They are. And they like you.”
William exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. “That’s a relief. I was nervous as hell.”
Est raised a brow, teasing. “You? Nervous? Didn’t look like it.”
William grinned, the water catching in his lashes. “Maybe I just didn’t want to look stupid in front of my boyfriend’s parents.”
Est’s heart skipped. Boyfriend. The word still felt new but hearing it from William made it feel like it belonged to them now.
He smiled, eyes soft. “Don’t worry,” he said, leaning closer until their foreheads nearly touched. “You didn’t.”
William brushed his thumb along Est’s jaw before kissing him — slow and deliberate this time, nothing rushed.
They stayed like that for a while — half-floating, half-embracing.
___
The next day, the air was still cool as Est nudged William awake. The sky outside the window was soft gray-blue. “Come on,” Est whispered, tugging at the blanket, “we should start before the sun gets too dramatic.”
William groaned, half-burying his face in the pillow. “You sound like a tour guide with a grudge against the sun.”
A few minutes later, though, he was sitting up, hair tousled, blinking sleep away. He followed anyway, because when Est spoke with that mix of excitement and calm, it always felt like there was something worth seeing.
They drove along winding mountain roads, past sleeping houses and fog. By the time they reached Wat Pha Sorn Kaew, the sun was rising over the hills, spilling gold over the mosaic-covered pagoda.
William stepped out of the car and went quiet. The pagoda shimmered with a thousand fragments of color. Est stood beside him. A moment later, he slowly reached for William’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
After exploring the temple grounds, they drove uphill to Pino Latte Café. The morning had warmed just enough to sit outside, looking over the valley that stretched endlessly below. They ordered coffee and pastries.
Est took out his phone. “We don’t have any proper couple photos,” he said, already angling the camera. William rolled his eyes but leaned in. They took several—some candid, some where William was clearly failing to hide his smile.
Their next stop was the local market, loud, messy, and full of life. William was drawn to everything, ending up buying far more than planned.
“They’re already complaining that you didn’t invite them,” William said, looking at the pile of goods. “If we don’t bring them back something, it’ll be friendship over.”
Est groaned, handing the vendor more bills. “You’re too nice. You know that, right?”
“That’s why you like me,” William teased.
“That’s one of the reasons,” Est replied under his breath.
They had lunch at a small riverside restaurant in the city center. Est ordered without consulting William, declaring that he needed to “eat like a local.” By the second dish, William’s face was turning pink. “It’s not that spicy,” Est said, laughing as William reached for his water again.
__
When it was finally time to pack and leave, Est’s mother hugged him tightly, her hands warm against his back. “Thank you for visiting us,” she said, her voice full of the same gentle affection she’d shown all weekend. “And don’t forget your promise—come back this summer.”
William smiled, the warmth settling deep in his chest. “I will never miss it, Mae.” The word slipped out naturally now—soft, respectful, and full of meaning.
Est’s father followed, pulling William into a firm, almost protective embrace. “Take care of each other, okay, son?” he said, the last word landing heavier than it sounded.
“Yes, Por,” William answered quietly, holding his gaze for a beat longer.
Then Mae handed him a paper bag. “Give this to your parents. Just some local snacks.”
“I will. Thank you,” he said again, his voice gentler this time.
He stepped back toward the car to give Est and Earn a moment with their parents. From the passenger seat, William watched through the window as Est’s mother fussed over his hair, her expression torn between pride and reluctance. Earn stood a little behind them, laughing softly.
The drive back to Bangkok was yet again peaceful, with long stretches of music and quiet conversation.
They stopped for dinner along the highway before dropping Earn off at his condo.
“Bye. Drive safe, and message me once you’re home,” she said, her smile tired but fond.
As they drove off, the city lights grew brighter, but the quiet between them stayed easy, unhurried.
When they finally got back to the condo, William spoke as soon as they stepped inside. “Where’s her picture? I want to see what she looks like.”
Est glanced at him, amused. “You’re really curious, huh?” He walked over to the shelf, opened the drawer, and pulled out a small frame.
William took one look and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, that’s… creepy.”
“I know,” Est groaned. “That’s why I kept it hidden.”
William laughed for another moment, then grew quiet. He set the frame gently back inside the drawer.
“Would you put ours here too?” he asked quietly.
Est’s smile deepened. “I thought about that already. Our first selfie… and the one from Pino Latte.”
Something warm flickered in William’s chest. “Good choice.”
They washed up and changed, moving around each other with the kind of quiet familiarity that had grown naturally over time.
When William turned toward Est in bed, Est was still scrolling through his phone, the light casting soft shadows across his face.
“What now?” Est asked without looking.
“Thanks for inviting me,” William said. His voice was low, not out of hesitation but because he didn’t want to break the calm.
Est set his phone down and looked at him. “Thanks for coming.”
For a moment, neither moved. Then William reached out, fingertips brushing along Est’s jawline, tracing the faint line of stubble there. Est’s breath caught, but he didn’t pull away. Their eyes met—steady, searching—and William leaned in.
The kiss was slow, almost tentative. Then it lingered, deeper. The air between them shifted—soft, charged. William’s hand found its way to the back of Est’s neck, while Est’s fingers curled into his shirt.
When William finally hovered above him, his breath was warm against Est’s skin.
“Will…” Est’s voice broke softly, half a sigh, half a sound he couldn’t name.
William froze, pulling back just enough to look at him. “Sorry. I’ll stop.”
But Est pulled him back, his touch light but certain. “No. Don’t.”
“You sure?” William asked, his forehead resting against Est’s.
Est leaned up, their lips brushing again. “Yeah.”
Everything after that slowed to a quiet rhythm. William’s touch was careful, reverent almost, tracing lines he wanted to memorize. Est’s fingers followed the same instinct, drawing him closer, grounding him.
There was nothing hurried in it, no need to prove anything—just closeness, breath against skin and a quiet intimacy of trust made visible.
When the stillness finally returned, their breathing had evened out, hands still loosely intertwined between them. William pressed a soft kiss to Est’s shoulder.
The room was quiet, but the silence felt full—loaded with the weight of shared choice. Every careful touch, every shared breath, was a quiet reaffirmation. They had started with hesitation, but here, now, they simply held each other.
__
Note:
I never planned to give a double update tonight 😅but it was too long, so I had to cut it into 2 chapters. 😅
I’ll try my best to post the next chapter on Friday. Thanks for reading! 🫶
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