Chapter Text
Pond froze for half a second—just long enough for Phuwin to regret everything—before his hands came up to cradle Phuwin’s face, whiskey-slick lips parting under his with a quiet, desperate noise. When they broke apart, Phuwin’s pulse roared in his ears.
"You," Pond started, voice wrecked, thumbs brushing Phuwin’s jaw, "have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that."
Phuwin swallowed. "Thursday."
Pond’s laugh was ragged. "Try sophomore year."
The bathroom door creaked open, Fourth’s groan cutting through the tension. "If you two are making out, I swear to—"
Gemini shoved him back inside. "Shut up and hold my hair!"
Phuwin barely registered the slam of the door. His hands hovered over Pond’s wrists, unsure where to land. "You... what?"
Pond’s thumbs traced his cheekbones. "The Shakespeare festival. You were fixing the balcony rail in that stupid doublet costume." His voice dropped. "Sweat dripping down your neck. I nearly walked into a wall."
Phuwin’s breath hitched. "You tripped over Joong’s backpack."
"Because I wasn’t looking at my feet." Pond leaned in until their foreheads touched.
Fourth’s muffled retching echoed from the bathroom. Gemini groaned. "Can you two not while I’m actively dying?"
Pond didn’t move. "Shut up, Gem."
Phuwin’s fingers found Pond’s collar. "You’re such a liar."
"Prove it." Pond’s grin was wicked. "Kiss me again."
The bathroom door burst open. Fourth staggered out, green-faced. "If you’re going to do this, at least have the decency to— oh god—" He bolted back inside.
---
The bus rattled along the highway, rain streaking the windows in erratic patterns. Phuwin stared resolutely at his script, acutely aware of Pond's knee pressing against his thigh—warm, deliberate, there. Fourth snored softly across the aisle while Gemini fiddled with a styrofoam cup of coffee, shooting glances between them like a spectator at a tennis match.
"Shame about the rain," Gemini said pointedly, swirling his coffee.
Pond stretched, his arm brushing Phuwin's shoulder. "I like it."
Gemini smirked. "Oh, I bet you—whoops!" The cup slipped from his hands, coffee splashing directly onto Pond's lap.
Pond jerked upright. "*Fuck*—Gem, what the hell?"
"Sorry!" Gemini fluttered his hands dramatically. "It was an accident, I swear! Phuwin, help him before it stains!"
Phuwin's pulse roared as Pond stood, the dark patch spreading across his thighs. Fourth snorted awake, took one look at the scene, and immediately feigned sleep again.
"Bathroom," Phuwin muttered, grabbing Pond's wrist harder than necessary.
The tiny bus bathroom smelled like industrial cleaner and stale urine. Phuwin shoved Pond inside and slammed the door, their chests colliding in the cramped space.
"Strip," Phuwin ordered, voice tight.
Pond's smirk was all teeth. "Eager."
The fluorescent light flickered overhead as Phuwin yanked open the first aid kit mounted on the wall, grabbing wads of gauze. "It's burning you, idiot."
Pond's breath hitched when Phuwin pressed the gauze to the coffee stain—too close, too intimate—his hips jerking back against the sink. "Fuck."
Phuwin froze. Pond's pupils were blown wide, his lips parted around the curse. The gauze slipped from Phuwin's fingers. "You—"
The bus hit a pothole. Phuwin stumbled forward, his palms slamming against the wall on either side of Pond's head. Their noses brushed.
"Fuck," Pond breathed, voice ragged as Phuwin's knee slid between his thighs in the jostle. The bathroom light buzzed overhead, casting their shadows in sharp relief against the flaking paint.
Phuwin didn't pull back. Couldn't. Not with Pond's heat searing through his uniform, not with the way Pond's fingers dug into his hips like he was afraid Phuwin would vanish.
"You—" Phuwin started, but Pond cut him off with a jerky shake of his head.
"Don't." Pond's throat worked as he tilted his chin up, baring the vulnerable line of his neck. "Not unless you mean it."
Phuwin exhaled sharply, breath mingling with Pond’s in the cramped space. The bus rattled around them, the rhythm syncopated with the frantic beat of his pulse. "You think I’d be here if I didn’t mean it?"
Pond’s laugh was shaky, his fingers tightening on Phuwin’s hips. "Could’ve fooled me."
The overhead light flickered again, casting shadows across Pond’s throat where his collar had come undone. Phuwin traced the exposed skin with his gaze, throat dry. "You’re insufferable."
"Yeah." Pond’s grin was all challenge. "And you’re still here."
Phuwin didn’t hesitate this time. He crushed their mouths together, swallowing Pond’s startled noise. The taste of whiskey and spearmint gum flooded his senses as Pond’s hands slid up his back, dragging him closer until the sink dug into Phuwin’s thighs.
The bathroom light flickered again, casting erratic shadows across Pond’s face as Phuwin pulled back just enough to glare. "You taste like cheap whiskey," he muttered, thumb swiping at the dampness on Pond’s lower lip.
Pond caught his wrist, grinning. "And you’re still kissing me." His teeth grazed Phuwin’s palm, sharp enough to sting. "Interesting."
Phuwin’s breath hitched. "Shut up."
"Make me."
The bus hit another bump, jostling them together. Pond’s hips rolled against his instinctively, and Phuwin bit back a groan. "You’re—"
The bus lurched violently to the right, tossing Phuwin against Pond's chest as luggage rained from the overhead compartments. Outside, the storm had turned the road into a river of mud, the windshield wipers useless against the onslaught.
"Everyone off!" the driver shouted over the chaos. "Landslide up ahead—we're stuck until morning!"
Fourth groaned, peeling his face off the window where he'd been drooling. "Are we dying? Because I refuse to die in these pants."
Gemini squinted through the rain-streaked windows at the flickering neon sign ahead. "Motel" glowed in sickly pink letters, the "M" sputtering ominously. "Oh hell no. That's where horror movie extras get axed."
Pond's fingers tightened around Phuwin's wrist as they stumbled off the bus. "Cool. I call dibs on the room with the bloodstains." he joked.
The motel lobby smelled like mildew and regret. The clerk—an ancient man with one milky eye—slid two keys across the counter without looking up. "Power's out. No refunds."
Fourth grabbed Gemini's shoulder. "We're sharing. I need a human shield."
Pond pocketed their key with a smirk. "Guess it's you and me again, Phuwin."
Room 13's door creaked open to reveal sagging beds and wallpaper peeling like dead skin. Phuwin tossed his bag onto the marginally cleaner mattress. "If you snore, I'm smothering you with a pillow."
Pond flopped onto the other bed, arms behind his head. "Promise?"
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the water stain on the ceiling that suspiciously resembled a screaming face. Phuwin pointed at it. "That's your soul."
Pond chuckled, rolling onto his side to face Phuwin. "Nah, mine's prettier." The flickering lamp cast shadows across his sharp cheekbones. "You nervous or something? You've been—" He mimed Phuwin's tense shoulders.
Phuwin yanked the curtains shut. "It's just a shitty motel."
"Mhm." Pond's grin was audible. "Bet you ten bucks Fourth's already barricaded their door with dressers."
As if on cue, a thunderous crash echoed through the wall, followed by Gemini's distant "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
Phuwin exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. The single lamp flickered ominously, casting long shadows across Pond's sprawled form. "You're taking first shower."
"Scared I'll peek?" Pond waggled his eyebrows.
"Scared you'll drown from sheer idiocy." Phuwin tossed a towel at his face.
The bathroom door clicked shut.
---
In the middle of the night, Phuwin stared at the water-stained ceiling, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain—until another sound sliced through it. A soft, rhythmic *thud*. Like footsteps.
He sat bolt upright. "Pond?"
No answer. The *thudding* grew closer.
Phuwin's fingers curled around the bedside lamp—useless, since the power was out—when Pond abruptly stood up from his bed and starting to walk.
"Not funny," Phuwin hissed, heart hammering. He whipped around—
Pond stood silhouetted against the storm-lit window, eyes wide and unseeing, dripping onto the moth-eaten carpet. His lips moved soundlessly.
"...the fuck?" Phuwin dropped the lamp. "Pond?"
"—so pretty in the spotlight," Pond murmured, taking a shuffling step forward. His outstretched hand grazed Phuwin's sleeve. "Should've told you... dress rehearsal... your hands were shaking..."
Phuwin's breath caught. That was three months ago, during *Twelfth Night*—a detail Pond couldn't possibly know unless—
"You came." The words tumbled out before he could stop them. "Opening night. Second row center."
Pond's fingers curled around his wrist, warm and certain despite his glazed expression. "Stayed for both encores." His thumb brushed Phuwin's pulse point. "Hated that bastard who brought you roses."
The storm outside rattled the windowpanes as Phuwin swayed closer, drawn in by the raw honesty in Pond's sleep-slurred voice. "Why didn't you—"
"Scared you'd laugh." Pond's eyelids fluttered, his grip tightening like he was afraid Phuwin would vanish. "Always laugh when I'm serious."
A floorboard creaked overhead. Phuwin barely noticed. "I wouldn't have."
Pond hummed, swaying toward him until their foreheads touched. "Liar." His breath ghosted over Phuwin's lips, warm and faintly minty from the toothpaste Gemini had forced on everyone earlier. "You're laughing now."
Phuwin wasn't. His chest ached with something too big to name. "Pond—"
Phuwin's fingers lingered against Pond's wrist—warm, pulse thrumming—as he gave him a sharp shake. "Pond. Wake up."
Pond blinked awake with a start, his gaze darting around the room before landing on Phuwin's face. His brow furrowed. "Why am I standing?"
"Because you were sleepwalking again," Phuwin said, crossing his arms. "And talking. A lot."
Pond's eyes widened, his usual smirk slipping. "What did I say?"
"Enough." Phuwin tilted his head, watching the way Pond's throat bobbed as he swallowed. "You remember *Twelfth Night*'s dress rehearsal?"
Pond ran a hand through his hair, fingers catching on the damp strands. "Shit. I—"
"Second row center?" Phuwin pressed, stepping closer. The floorboard creaked under his weight. "The roses?"
Pond's laugh was strained, his gaze flickering to the window where rain still lashed against the glass. "Fuck. Yeah. That." He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm. "Look, I don't usually—"
"Sleepwalk into confessing things?" Phuwin arched a brow. "Convenient."
Pond's jaw tightened. "It's not—" He cut himself off with a frustrated noise. "Forget it."
---
When they were back at school on Monday, their friends tried to get some answers from them about what happened to Pond and Phuwin during the class trip.
Gemini's chair screeched across the cafeteria floor as he leaned in, eyes glinting with mischief. "So," he said, dragging out the vowel, "when exactly did you two ditch the motel?"
Fourth slammed his tray down hard enough to make the utensils rattle. "And more importantly—why wasn't I invited?"
Phuwin stabbed his fork into a limp piece of broccoli with excessive force. "We didn't ditch. The power went out. We went to find flashlights."
"At midnight?" Dunk wiggled his eyebrows. "In a storm?"
Pond, sprawled in the seat beside Phuwin with his usual disregard for personal space, flicked a grape at Dunk's forehead. "Jealous?"
Fourth gasped dramatically. "Oh my god, they definitely—"
"We slept," Phuwin snapped. "Separately. In beds. Like normal people."
Gemini snorted into his juice box. "Define 'normal'."
Joong leaned across the table, eyes gleaming. "Tell me again how you accidentally ended up at that abandoned hot spring?"
Pond stretched lazily, his arm brushing Phuwin's shoulder. "Got lost in the woods. Terrible signage."
"Bullshit," Santa stage-whispered as Aou fake-swooned onto his shoulder. "You were gone for three hours."
Phuwin's chopsticks snapped the crust off his sandwich with unnecessary violence. "We were looking for the bus."
"Uh-huh." Joong tapped his temple. "Funny how you both came back with wet hair."
A grape bounced off Joong's nose as Pond grinned, unrepentant. "Rain's wet, genius."
Phuwin abruptly stood, chair screeching. "Rehearsal. Now." He strode toward the door without checking if anyone followed.
---
The script slipped from Phuwin's fingers when he caught Pond doing it again—that slight tilt of the head, left eyebrow arching just a fraction higher than the right, an exact replica of Phuwin's own habitual reaction to Fourth's terrible jokes.
"You're staring," Pond said without looking up from his notebook, pen cap clamped between his teeth—just like Phuwin had done during yesterday's calculus test.
Phuwin's throat went dry. "Am not."
The theater door slammed shut with a finality that made Phuwin's stomach drop. Outside, Dunk's muffled laughter faded into the storm's howl, followed by the unmistakable click of a padlock.
"Did he just—" Phuwin whirled toward the sound, hands braced against the door.
"Lock us in?" Pond's silhouette shrugged in the dark. "Yep."
A flash of lightning illuminated the black box theater for half a second—just long enough for Phuwin to see Pond's shit-eating grin.
Phuwin's fingers scrabbled along the wall for a light switch. "This isn't funny."
"I think it's hilarious." The rustle of fabric suggested Pond was leaning against the prop table. "Relax. Dunk'll realize his mistake when we don't show up for—"
Thunder cracked overhead, drowning out the rest. The emergency lights flickered once before dying completely.
"...dinner," Pond finished lamely.
Phuwin's kneecap collided with a chair. "Ow, fuck—"
"Easy." Warm hands caught his elbows from behind. "There's a breaker box backstage. Come on."
They shuffled blindly toward the wings, Pond's fingers curled loosely around Phuwin's wrist. The velvet curtain brushed Phuwin's cheek—too close, too intimate—when Pond suddenly stopped.
"Problem?" Phuwin whispered.
Pond's exhale ghosted across his temple. "Forgot which way's stage left."
"You're joking."
"Wish I was." A beat. Then, softer: "You're shaking."
Phuwin yanked his wrist free. "I'm not."
"You are." Fingers brushed his sleeve—lightning quick—before retreating. "Cold?"
Phuwin swallowed. The storm outside rattled the roof tiles. "No."
"Liar." Pond's voice dipped low, amusement threading through it. "You always shiver when you're nervous. Opening night of *Twelfth Night*, your hands were—"
"Stop." Phuwin's pulse thundered in his ears. "Stop memorizing my tells."
A pause. Then, closer: "Why?"
The scent of Pond's stupid cologne—citrus and something smokier—wrapped around him in the dark. Phuwin's fingers curled into fists. "Because it's unfair."
"Unfair?" Pond's chuckle vibrated through the floorboards. "Says the guy who remembers my pranks with my friends."
Phuwin whirled toward his voice. "You started those!"
"And you finished them by telling the principal about them all." Fabric rustled—Pond shifting? Leaning in? "Every damn time. With your perfect comebacks and your stupid princely posture—"
A flash of lightning illuminated Pond's face for half a second: lips parted, eyelashes casting shadows across his cheeks. Phuwin's breath caught.
Darkness swallowed them again.
"Princely?" Phuwin scoffed, aiming for derision and landing somewhere embarrassingly breathless. "What are you, my understudy?"
"Only if you want me to be." Closer now. Pond's knuckles brushed Phuwin's sleeve—accidental? Intentional? "Though I'd make a terrible Viola. My body is broader. And I can't cry on command like you."
Phuwin's pulse stuttered. "You watched my audition tapes?"
"Obviously." A shuffle of feet. The scent of Pond's shampoo—something aggressively citrus—filled the space between them. "Would've been rude not to. Since you left them playing on your laptop in the library."
"You—" Phuwin's retort died when his back hit a flats panel with a hollow thud. He swallowed. "You're a stalker."
Pond's exhale warmed his cheek. "I just like you, Phuwin." Pond suddenly confessed with determination in his eyes.
"You—" Phuwin's breath hitched as Pond's fingers brushed his wrist, pinning it against the flats panel. "You don't just say that when someone's trapped in the dark with you."
Pond's laugh was low, too close. "Why not? Perfect timing. No witnesses." His thumb traced the delicate bones of Phuwin's hand. "Unless you want me to say it in front of all of our friends?"
Phuwin's pulse jumped. "I want you to stop."
"Liar." Pond's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your heartbeat's doing that thing again. Like when you're about to go onstage."
The storm outside rattled the rafters. Phuwin swallowed hard. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I? Because I have never been more sure in my life." Pond replied.
"Say it again," Phuwin demanded, voice cracking on the last syllable. His fingers curled into Pond's shirt, crumpling the fabric between them.
Pond's grin was all teeth in the dim light. "Which part? The stalking? Or—" He leaned in until their noses brushed. "The liking you?"
Phuwin's grip tightened. "All of it."
Pond exhaled sharply, his breath warm against Phuwin's lips. "Fine. I like you so much. I hope you do too."
A beat. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking the stage lights. Phuwin's fingers trembled against Pond's chest. "I hate you."
Pond laughed, low and delighted. "Liar." His thumb traced Phuwin's jaw. "Try again."
Phuwin swallowed hard. The words stuck in his throat, lodged somewhere between his ribs. "I—"
The backstage door crashed open. Dunk's panicked voice cut through the dark. "Phuwin?! Pond?! Shit, I thought—" His flashlight beam landed on them, frozen inches apart. "Oh."
Pond didn't move. "Five seconds, Dunk."
Dunk's sneakers squeaked as he pivoted. "Right. Yeah. Uh—" The door slammed shut again.
Silence. Then Phuwin exhaled sharply. "This is ridiculous."
Pond's fingers slid down to cradle his wrist. "Say it."
Phuwin's fingers tightened around Pond's collar, his breath hitching as the words finally escaped—raw and unguarded. "I like you too, you insufferable idiot."
Pond's grin flashed in the dim backstage light, blinding even in its simplicity. "Took you long enough," he murmured, thumb brushing Phuwin's cheekbone. His other hand slid to the small of Phuwin's back, pulling him flush against him.
"Shut up," Phuwin muttered, but there was no bite left—just warmth pooling in his stomach as Pond leaned in, their noses brushing.
"Make me," Pond whispered against his lips, and then he did.
The kiss was nothing like their bickering—soft where they were sharp, certain where they'd been hesitant. Phuwin's hands found their way into Pond's hair, fingers tangling in the damp strands as Pond deepened the kiss with a quiet urgency that made Phuwin's knees weak.
A muffled thump from the hallway made them break apart. Phuwin's chest heaved as he pressed his forehead against Pond's. "Dunk's still out there."
"Let him suffer," Pond murmured, stealing another kiss before Phuwin could protest. His thumb traced the curve of Phuwin's jaw. "Say it again."
Phuwin rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his smile. "I like you."
Pond's grin was radiant. "Will you be my boyfriend?."
Phuwin's breath hitched—just once—before he shoved Pond's shoulder with the heel of his palm. "You don't ask that mid-kiss."
Pond caught his wrist before he could pull away, grinning as he pressed a kiss to Phuwin's knuckles. "Seemed efficient." His thumb traced the delicate bones of Phuwin's hand. "So? Yes or no?"
Phuwin’s breath hitched—half exasperation, half something dangerously close to fondness. "You’re such an idiot." But his fingers tightened around Pond’s wrist, thumb brushing the flutter of pulse beneath his skin. "Yes."