Chapter Text
The elevator doors slid open to reveal the hotel lobby glowing warmly under golden lights. The group trickled in one by one, dressed sharply in the suits that had mysteriously appeared in their rooms earlier that evening.
“Fine dining again, Phi?” Easter asked, a playful lilt to his voice as he smoothed the lapel of his blazer. “We saw the suits. Don’t tell us we’re going to a street stall dressed like this.”
Johan chuckled, slipping his hands into his pockets. “It’s our last night in Seoul. You deserve to be spoiled a little.”
“A little?” Typhoon echoed with a dry laugh. “You sent custom-tailored suits, Phi.”
“Exactly,” Tonfah said, adjusting his cufflinks. “We’re ending this trip properly.”
The little ones exchanged amused glances, half-rolling their eyes but clearly pleased. As they gathered near the lobby’s lounge chairs, the subtle details of their outfits began to stand out.
North’s deep navy suit had a silver tie clip that mirrored Johan’s cufflinks. Duenao’s charcoal jacket had red stitching hidden beneath the lapel that matched the pocket square in Tiger’s blazer. Easter’s dark green suit was accented with a soft blue tie — the same shade as Hill’s shirt. Daotok’s was sleek black with a faint silver trim identical to Arthit’s tie pin, and Typhoon’s pinstripe jacket shared the same minimalist lapel pin Tonfah wore.
At first, no one commented. The older five were too busy straightening jackets and checking watches to notice, and North and Duenao were too used to the subtle coordination with their boyfriends to think twice about it.
It was Daotok, of course, who leaned closer to Easter and muttered under his breath, “Why are we matching them?”
Easter blinked, glancing between his tie and Hill’s shirt. “Oh.”
Typhoon followed their gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as realization dawned. “Oh.”
They stared at one another with a mix of suspicion and amusement before Easter shrugged. “I guess we’re part of the theme now.”
The lobby buzzed softly around them, the sound of suit fabric shifting, polished shoes on marble, and the occasional phone notification breaking the quiet. The older five were gathered near the concierge desk, scrolling through reservation confirmations and checking final details for their dinner, leaving the little ones to themselves for the moment.
And North, of course, immediately seized the opportunity.
“So…” he began casually, adjusting his cufflinks and looking far too amused. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you three are matching them?”
“Shut it,” Daotok hissed under his breath, cheeks already heating.
Easter groaned and tugged at his tie. “It’s just a coincidence.”
“Oh, sure. A coincidence,” Duenao said, voice dripping with fake innocence. “Completely normal for tailoring details to line up so perfectly.”
Typhoon shot them both a deadpan glare. “I said shut it.”
But North was already grinning like a devil. “Careful, or you might end up the next sugar baby.”
Daotok nearly choked. “What?!”
“And it’s just a question of who,” Duenao added sweetly, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “Could be Hill. Could be Tonfah. Could even be Arthit.”
The three turned to him in perfect sync, glaring daggers, but the amusement in North and Duenao’s eyes only grew.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” North pressed, feigning wide-eyed innocence. “The fond gazes. The way they hover. The extra effort they make to talk to you. But sure, pretend to be oblivious.”
“North,” Typhoon said darkly, “I swear—”
“—you’ll what?” North teased, smirking. “Give me a diagram on the probability of Arthit falling first?”
“Or a formula on how long it’ll take before Hill snaps and confesses?” Duenao chimed in, laughing under his breath.
The three exchanged frustrated looks, muttering something about traitors and chaos incarnate. And just when they thought the torment was finally over, they caught the low sound of North whispering to Duenao—loud enough for them to hear:
“Wanna bet on it?”
Duenao’s grin turned wicked, his gaze sliding to the three like a cat who’d cornered its prey. “Sure.”
“HEY!” the three chorused, snapping their heads toward them.
The older men, startled by the sudden outburst, turned from their phones and papers to look at them in confusion. “What’s going on?” Johan asked, brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” the little ones answered in unison—some too quickly, others too innocently.
North and Duenao were still smiling, mischief dancing in their eyes. The other three, on the other hand, stood with matching scowls and crossed arms, glaring daggers at the pair like they were plotting revenge.
“Nothing at all,” Duenao said smoothly.
“Completely fine,” North echoed, voice a little too sweet.
The older men exchanged a look—one part suspicion, two parts amusement, but decided to let it slide. Still, as they all gathered to leave for dinner, the tension between the smug duo and the grumpy trio was hilariously palpable.
The restaurant was breathtaking—soft amber light bathed the room in a warm glow, crystal glasses sparkled like stars under chandeliers, and the gentle hum of a live string quartet filled the background with something elegant and timeless. A seven-course menu awaited them, and the moment they were seated and the waiter presented the first dish, the little ones exchanged amused glances.
“Seven courses?” Easter teased as he unfolded his napkin. “You really are going all out.”
Johan chuckled as he poured water into North’s glass. “It’s our last night here in Seoul. You deserve the full treatment.”
“Next thing you know, there’ll be fireworks,” Typhoon muttered, earning a round of laughter from the table.
Between small bites of the first course—a delicate amuse-bouche that looked too pretty to eat, the conversation drifted toward something more serious.
“So,” Arthit asked, swirling his wine glass lazily, “what are the plans after graduation?”
The table grew thoughtful, and then Duenao spoke first. “That’s still a little far off. Before we even think about that, we’ll be swallowed by internships, thesis defenses, final exams…”
“Internships, huh?” Hill leaned forward, curiosity piqued. “Have you decided where you’ll do them?”
North shared a knowing look with Duenao before grinning. “At our companies, most likely.”
“Or maybe,” Duenao added, “just to spice things up, we’ll switch. I’ll intern at Warasilp, and North will do his internship at Pathawat.”
The table erupted into laughter, the older men shaking their heads in amusement.
“Somehow I think you two would still end up in the boardroom either way,” Johan teased, and North just grinned in reply.
“What about you, Daotok?” Tonfah asked, turning his attention to the biologist across the table.
Daotok hummed, considering his answer. “I’m looking into Phattharaphatsri Health Group or Thanthikul Biopharma International.”
Tonfah’s brows lifted slightly. “If you’re really considering Phattharaphatsri, I’d be happy to write a recommendation letter for you.”
“And I’ll do the same for Thanthikul,” Hill offered easily.
The little ones immediately burst out laughing.
“Write a recommendation to whom?” Typhoon asked, trying to stifle his laughter. “Yourselves?”
Tonfah and Hill exchanged amused glances before Hill shook his head. “To the research department heads, smartass.”
“Sure, sure,” Easter teased, raising his glass in mock salute.
Daotok chuckled softly before continuing, “I’m also considering Jittangkul Biosciences International or Chaowakornkul R&D Pharmaceuticals. I’ve received offers from both.”
At that, North and Duenao’s gazes slid toward Easter and Typhoon, who stiffened just slightly before resuming their casual conversation. The three shared a silent look that spoke volumes, but the older men were too engrossed in the talk about internship opportunities to notice.
Hill was the first to break the rhythm again. “Both are excellent options. Jittangkul’s research department is one of the best in the region.”
“And Chaowakornkul’s R&D has a strong global reach,” Tonfah added, nodding thoughtfully. “Any of those four would set you up well for future research.”
Daotok only smiled politely, but under the table, Typhoon nudged his leg, and Easter smirked into his glass. Duenao hid a knowing grin behind a sip of water.
The third course was being served—a delicate soup with a hint of truffle when Johan leaned forward, resting his elbows lightly on the table. “And what about you two?” he asked, glancing between Easter and Typhoon. “Any plans for internships, or are you still deciding?”
Easter finished swallowing a spoonful before answering, calm and thoughtful as always. “Same choices as Daotok's,” he said. “Phattharaphatsri, Thanthikul, Jittangkul, or Chaowakornkul.”
Tonfah’s brows rose slightly. “Chaowakornkul offered you a slot too?”
Easter nodded, sipping his water before continuing, “They did. But I’m leaning more toward Jittangkul.”
Hill tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “Any reason why?”
“Veterinary applications,” Easter replied without hesitation. “The others are more general or focused on human medicine. Jittangkul’s projects lean heavily toward animal health, and that’s where I want to be.”
The businessmen hummed approvingly, exchanging looks that were a mix of impressed and thoughtful.
“Sounds like a good fit,” Hill commented. “Hands-on, relevant experience.”
“Exactly,” Easter said, smiling faintly.
Attention then shifted to Typhoon, who had been swirling the wine in his glass lazily, a familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. “And you, Typhoon?” Arthit asked, his tone teasing but genuinely curious. “Any plans on where to throw that genius of yours?”
Typhoon grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Kittiwanich Global Art Foundation reached out. Said I could intern with them if I was interested.”
The table went momentarily quiet. The little ones shared quick, knowing glances, but the older men still didn’t catch on.
“Kittiwanich?” Johan repeated, clearly surprised. “That Kittiwanich? They don’t offer internships lightly.”
“No, they don’t,” Tonfah added, narrowing his eyes slightly. “What kind of connections do you have to land that?”
Typhoon just shrugged with an infuriatingly casual grin. “Maybe I’m just that talented.”
Across the table, Daotok leaned closer to his glass and whispered just loud enough for the four beside him to hear, “Talented but insufferable.”
That earned a round of suppressed giggles from the little ones, Easter nearly choking on his water as Duenao bit back a laugh. Typhoon only smirked, pretending he hadn’t heard, though the slight twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him.
The older men watched the exchange with fond amusement, chalking it up to inside jokes, unaware that the “inside” ran far deeper than they realized.
“Well,” Arthit said, leaning back with a small smile, “looks like all of you are already in demand. Impressive.”
“Or terrifying,” Johan muttered under his breath, though the proud glint in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
The final plates were cleared from the table and the check discreetly taken care of before anyone realized how late it had gotten. Outside, the Seoul skyline glittered beneath a canopy of stars, the air crisp and cool as they stepped out of the restaurant together.
The ride back to the hotel was quieter than usual—the easy kind of silence that came after a long, satisfying day. The little ones were tired but still chatty, laughing over inside jokes in the back seats, while the older five exchanged fond looks in the front, quietly amused by the younger group’s endless energy.
By the time they returned to the hotel, goodnights were exchanged in the lobby—promises to meet for breakfast before their flight and teasing reminders not to oversleep. Then they all parted for their respective rooms.
Inside the room Tiger and Duenao shared, the city stretched out before them like a living constellation. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the night skyline, neon lights flickering between the outlines of high-rises and the glow of cars tracing ribbons across the streets below.
Duenao stood by the glass, coat discarded on the sofa behind him, his shirt slightly undone at the collar. There was a faint smile playing on his lips—the kind that appeared when he was deep in thought but too content to frown.
Tiger watched him for a moment from the doorway, then crossed the room and slipped his arms around Duenao’s waist from behind. His chin came to rest lightly on Duenao’s shoulder, and the younger man instinctively leaned back against him with a small sigh, eyes still fixed on the city.
“Did you have fun?” Tiger asked softly, voice warm and low against his ear.
Duenao hummed, the corners of his lips curling upward. “I did,” he said honestly. “More than I thought I would.”
There was a pause, and then, quieter, “Thank you… for going along with our whims. I know we’re chaotic. We change plans on a whim, drag you into things, make you spend the day chasing prototypes or following us into random stores.” He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly to glance at Tiger. “But you never complain.”
Tiger pressed a light kiss to the side of his neck, his embrace tightening just a little. “I’ll always indulge you,” he murmured. “With whatever you want.”
The night skyline of Seoul shimmered like scattered diamonds beyond the window—a soft, living glow that bathed the room in gold and silver light. Duenao was still gazing at it, the weight of Tiger’s arms around his waist grounding him, when he suddenly felt Tiger shift slightly behind him.
Something cool brushed against his skin.
Before he could register what was happening, Tiger gently took Duenao’s left hand, fingers trembling ever so slightly, and slid something onto his ring finger. Metal, warm from Tiger’s palm, slipped home carefully.
Duenao froze.
His breath caught in his chest as he looked down, eyes widening when he recognized the ring—that ring, the one he had lingered on in the shop back in Dongdaemun, the one he’d quietly admired and then walked away from before anyone noticed.
Slowly, he turned around in Tiger’s arms. The older man was already watching him with that calm, steady smile that made Duenao’s heart flutter and ache all at once.
“What’s this for?” Duenao asked, voice barely above a whisper, eyes flicking from Tiger’s face back down to the ring now encircling his finger.
Tiger’s hand found his cheek, thumb brushing gently against his skin. “A promise,” he murmured.
Duenao blinked. “A… promise?”
Tiger nodded. “A promise that no matter what whims you have—how sudden, how chaotic, how impractical, I’ll always indulge them. Always.”
His voice deepened slightly, a tenderness threading through every word. “And another promise… that I will stay. That what I feel for you isn’t fleeting or temporary. This—” he gestured slightly to the ring “—isn’t a whim, Nao. It’s the closest thing to certainty I’ve ever felt.”
The words made Duenao’s chest tighten, his breath trembling as Tiger continued, still holding his gaze.
“If you want a daughter someday,” Tiger said softly, “then I hope… when you picture that future, you see me there too. Whether we adopt, or go through surrogacy, or whatever you prefer, I want to be the one building that family with you.”
The dam broke before Duenao could stop it. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring the lights of the city behind Tiger as his lips parted in a shaky breath.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, the words catching in his throat. “Are you really sure about all of this?”
Tiger smiled as he cupped Duenao’s face with both hands, thumbs wiping away the tears that had started to fall.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he said. “Not about business. Not about the company. This is the one thing I’m absolutely sure of.”
Duenao didn’t answer. Instead, he surged forward and kissed him—a kiss that was desperate and trembling and overflowing with everything words couldn’t hold. Tiger kissed him back without hesitation, holding him close, grounding him as Duenao’s tears continued to spill.
When they finally broke apart, Tiger’s expression shifted to panic, his hands framing Duenao’s face as he frantically wiped the tears away.
“Why are you crying?” he asked, voice laced with worry. “Did I say something wrong? Did I—”
Duenao laughed through the tears, shaking his head. “No, no, it’s not that,” he said breathlessly. “I’m just—” his voice cracked, “—I’m just overwhelmed. Because you’re so sure of me.”
Tiger’s expression softened instantly, the panic fading into something far more tender. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Duenao’s forehead.
“Always,” he murmured. “I’ll always be sure of you.”
The kiss that followed was softer than the first. A promise sealed again with every brush of their lips. Tiger kissed Duenao like the world was slowing down just for them, like the city outside the window didn’t exist, like everything that mattered was here, in his arms.
When they parted for breath, their foreheads rested together, sharing the same quiet space, the same heartbeat.
“Are you sure?” Tiger whispered, voice barely audible, as if the question itself was too fragile to say aloud. His thumb traced lazy circles on Duenao’s waist, grounding him, giving him space to pull back if he wanted.
Duenao smiled before leaning forward to press another kiss to Tiger’s lips. “If you’re sure of me,” he murmured against his mouth, “then I’m sure too.”
Tiger exhaled a shaky breath, something warm and reverent flickering in his eyes before he kissed him again—deeper this time, a slow burn that pulled them closer until they were moving together, step by step, toward the bedroom.
The world seemed to melt away as they crossed the threshold. Jackets slipped off shoulders. Fingers brushed against skin. Laughter—quiet and breathless, filled the space between kisses. Every touch was deliberate, tender, and careful, as if they were both trying to memorize each other.
The city lights spilled through the window, painting soft gold across the sheets as Tiger gently laid Duenao back against them. Their movements were unhurried, as though they were writing a story with every breath—a story of promises, of trust, of hearts finally meeting halfway.
Somewhere between a kiss pressed to his shoulder and fingers intertwined above his head, Tiger bent low, his lips brushing against Duenao’s ear.
“I love you,” he whispered not as a confession, but a vow.
Duenao’s eyes fluttered open, his gaze locking with Tiger’s. A smile curved his lips, soft and trembling, before he answered in a way he always did when something was certain.
“Always.”
And with that word, they found their rhythm, moving together in quiet devotion. The night stretched around them, wrapped in warmth and shared breaths, until all that remained was the certainty of what they had built: a promise sealed not just in words, but in the gentle, unspoken language of love.
The morning light slipped gently through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The city was still quiet beneath them, a slow hum waking beneath the rising sun, but inside, everything felt perfectly still.
Duenao stirred first, lids fluttering open to the hazy warmth of dawn. The sheets were tangled around them, the scent of last night still clinging faintly to the air—something intimate, something that still made his heart flutter. Slowly, he lifted his hand, and there it was.
The ring.
It caught the morning light just so, the faint engraving inside the band brushing against his skin like a whisper. His thumb traced over it absently, and he felt the corners of his lips tug upward into a quiet, awed smile. A promise, he thought, warmth blooming in his chest. A promise that Tiger meant every word he said last night.
He was still lost in the way the ring sat on his finger when an arm slid around his waist, pulling him gently back against a warm chest. A familiar chin settled on his shoulder, breath ghosting over his neck.
“Good morning,” Tiger murmured, voice still heavy with sleep.
Duenao turned slightly, just enough to catch his eyes over his shoulder, and instead of a greeting, he whispered, soft but certain, “I love you.”
Tiger’s lips curved into a sleepy smile against his skin, and he pressed a tender kiss to Duenao’s shoulder—once, twice, slow and unhurried. “I love you too,” he murmured back, voice deep and warm, like the words were stitched into the morning itself.
Then, still half-draped over him, Tiger shifted a little closer, his hands tracing lazy circles over Duenao’s waist. Duenao let out a soft, incredulous laugh when he realized what Tiger was implying.
“Phi Suer,” he teased, glancing over his shoulder with raised brows, “we’ll be late for our flight if you start something now.”
Tiger hummed against his skin, entirely unbothered. “Then I’ll just book us another one,” he mumbled, his lips brushing his shoulder again. “I can afford it.”
Duenao’s laughter bubbled up before he could stop it—bright and genuine, echoing through the room. “Of course you would say that,” he chuckled, shaking his head as Tiger tightened his hold just slightly, like he didn’t want to let go.
And maybe he didn’t.
In that quiet morning light—tangled in sheets, wrapped in warmth, the weight of a promise on his finger and love written in every breath they shared, Duenao realized that this, too, was a kind of forever. Not loud or grand. Just soft, steady, and sure.