Work Text:
Team had never wanted to be an actor. His breakout role had kind of just fallen into his lap; a series Manaow had a lead role in was looking for a swimmer to fill in after an actor had dropped out at the last minute. Team had reasoned it would be easy money, only a handful of speaking lines, and then some B-roll shots of him swimming.
He hadn’t anticipated his character becoming a fan favourite. Seemingly overnight, there were compilations of him goofing around in the background of scenes, screenshots of him swimming, and more than a few memes. He’d shot suddenly into being semi-known, and with the notoriety came more offers, side roles and comedic relief characters until his first main role was given.
That’s where he met Win Phawin, hotel-heir-turned-model-turned-actor, apparently. Win had been half of the other main couple, and their characters' dynamics were frenemies that could never quite tell if the banter was real or not. Team had found it hitting a little too close to home, his own confusion about Win’s off-screen flirting bleeding into his character’s reactions a bit too much, maybe.
For the second time in Team’s life, the internet explodes around him. Apparently, a big portion of the fanbase had found chemistry between his and Win’s characters, and become more than a little obsessed. Team hadn’t really understood it, not until he watched a compilation of their scenes and had found, with a soul-shattering level of mortification he thought he would never recover from, he spent most of his scenes with Win flat out staring at his lips. Just, entirely focused on the other man’s mouth. Team had known, objectively, that he found Win hot, and his weird play-flirting had made Team’s chest warm, but to see it laid out for thousands of people was another story.
“I’m going to have to change my name and flee the country,” he’d whined to Pharm and Manaow.
Pharm, ever the best friend Team had ever had, had patted his shoulder and held back his laughter. Manaow, the worst demon he’d ever met, had cackled right into his face. “You’re just staring,” she gasped through giggles, hand flailing at the phone between the three of them. “Did you even listen to a word he said? How many times did P’Third make you reshoot this?”
Team’s assertions that he had been listening, and that Manaow had embarrassed herself almost as thoroughly when she’d tripped and fallen into P’Pruek’s arms at an awards show fell on deaf ears. Manaow had found an entire arsenal of teasing material, and she was not going to let it go.
“P’Dean is friends with P’Win,” Pharm suddenly said, apropos of absolutely nothing. “He’s coming to our house-warming party next week.”
“What?” Team spluttered. “Since when?”
“Since always, Team,” Pharm’s voice was still kind, but Team could see the evil glint in his eyes. “Maybe you two can discuss your acting choices then.”
Team scowled. “No way. I refuse to talk to him.”
A week later, they hooked up at the party. After the party. Well, they’d disappeared halfway through the party, somewhere between Win smirking at him and saying, “You like my mouth, huh?”, and Win cornering him by the back door and whispering, “I could put my mouth to better use, if you like.”
It’s not a line that should’ve worked on Team, but he’d learn later that Win was his exception to most things.
So, they’d snuck out through the garden, walked the few streets between Pharm and Dean’s new house and Win’s condo, and had, at that point, the best sex of Team’s life. They’d fallen asleep in Win’s bed somewhere around five in the morning, and then when Team had blinked awake at ten, Win had already bought breakfast and was crouched next to Team, stroking his hair out of his face.
“So,” he’d said, looking at Team with determination, “are you finally gonna let me take you on a date?”
Team did. One date turned into two, turned into three, and before Team realised, they were celebrating a year together. It was something of an open secret; Win had come out publicly at eighteen, while Team’s own coming out had happened at twenty, only a few months before he met Win, and while they weren’t exactly hiding their relationship, they hadn’t made any announcements either. It worked, kept their privacy, and their off-screen ‘friendship’ was more than enough to explain away how often they were spotted out together.
Still, there was nothing to be done about a last-minute schedule on their anniversary. Win had waved Team off early, after Team had spent the night at his yet again, with a sleepy smile and a soft, lingering kiss.
“I’ll see you tonight, baby,” he murmured, dipping in for one more quick kiss. “Text me when you’re on your way home.”
“I will, Hia,” Team said back, chest warming at the mention of home.
“Bring me back a bottle of iced tea,” he called as Team headed out the door.
*
It was Team’s firm opinion that a schedule that lasted only an hour should not keep him occupied from 7AM to 7PM, especially on his first anniversary with his boyfriend. But, he supposed, as his manager dropped him off at Win’s with a plastic bag full of iced tea, at least he had freebies.
Win greeted Team at the door with a kiss, waiting only for him to set his backpack down before he swooped in. Privately, it was Team’s favourite part about staying over at Win’s. The slow, gentle glide of their lips together made the tension of a long day immediately begin to seep out of him.
“There’s a pizza on the way,” Win mumbled against his mouth, “and Luem Kluen for after.”
That made Team kiss him a little harder, curling his free hand around the back of Win’s neck and biting gently at his bottom lip. “I love you,” Team sighed.
Win hummed, pulling back to give him a lazy smirk. “Trying to start something?” He asked, hand trailing from Team’s hip up to his waist, slowly rucking his shirt up with the movement.
“Not when there’s pizza on the way,” he huffed before lifting the bag at his side. “Got you iced tea.”
Win grinned, peering into the bag. “Asked for one and got ten. Dating an actor has its perks.”
Team snorted, kicking his shoes off. “You’re an actor too, Hia.”
“They never book me for this brand,” he whined, heading for the fridge to pack the bottles away.
“You’re too desperate,” Team said wisely, “they can smell it on you.”
Win’s gasp of mock-offence made Team snort. “Calling me desperate? On our anniversary? That’s cruel, baby.”
“I call it like I see it,” Team shrugged, cheeky smile in place.
The shrill ring of Win’s doorbell cut the conversation there. Team could feel his own eyes light up at the sound. “Pizza!” He cheered.
Win was the one to collect the pizza, while Team got plates and two of the bottles of iced tea.
“Pharm told me about this film,” he said as Win returned, pizza box in hand. At Win’s slightly panicked look, Team said, “Don’t worry, no scary films on anniversaries.”
“Aw, my gracious boyfriend,” he cooed, though Team could see real relief under the teasing.
“I know, you really lucked out with me, huh?”
*
They were on the sofa, the film Pharm recommended playing quietly in the background. The pizza long finished, the empty box at their feet. They’d moved on from watching the film to a slow, lazy make out session on the sofa, kissing just to kiss, their hands laying soft, sweet touches over the lines and curves of each other.
Team was almost entirely in Win’s lap, legs thrown over the arm of the sofa, and hands tangled in Win’s hair when he suddenly broke away and looked at Team.
“So, there’s something I want to ask you,” he said, eyes going a little wild.
Team’s brow furrowed. “You don’t have to ask for sex, Hia.”
“First of all, consent is a requirement. Second of all, that’s not the question.”
“Oh. Then what?”
“I want you to move in,” Win said in a rush. Team’s eyes widened as Win continued, “Or we could look for somewhere else. Together. I just,” he licked his lips, slick and kiss-bruised, eyes darting between Team’s, “every night you spend here feels right. I mean, you already have a key,” he added with a shaky laugh.
It was always fun to see Win flustered, the tips of his ears turning red against the silver of his piercings as he shifted slightly. Team wished he could enjoy it more, but his brain had caught on I want you to move in, and had yet to move past it. “You want me to move in?”
Win huffed a laugh somewhere between fond and disbelieving. “Yes, Team. I gave you a key months ago. I want you here. I want to live with you.”
And, sure, Team had noted that giving each other keys to their places was a capitalised Big Step in their relationship, but he also hadn’t known how much emphasis was being put on it. How long had Win been thinking about him moving in? As long as they’d both been referring to Win’s condo as home? Longer?
Team could feel his eyes burning. “Oh.”
Win’s smile turned a little more nervous. “Oh? Is that a good oh?”
A stupid question, as far as Team was concerned. “Shut up, Hia,” he said with a sniff, wiping his eyes preemptively and glaring at Win above his (Win’s) hoodie sleeve. “Of course I’ll move in with you. Stupid.”
Team’s glare had never worked on Win, though, and his boyfriend was all too well-versed in his mannerisms. Instantly, the nerves had vanished as though they were never there, and Win was pulling him closer with a manic grin. “Yeah?”
Team nodded, head burrowing into Win’s neck as a couple of tears escaped. His arms tightened around Win’s shoulders. “Yeah,” he breathed. Then, a little whiny, he said, “I can’t believe you asked me that in the middle of making out.”
Win laughed, bright and happy, and asked, “Would you rather I’d asked while you were eating?”
“No,” he begrudged, “but still.”
“Sorry, baby,” Win said, but Team could hear the grin in his voice. “I just – I’ve been thinking about it forever, and I just thought… every day could be like this, you know?”
“Stop,” Team whined weakly. “I just stopped crying.”
“Getting emotional on our anniversary, baby?”
“Like you’re not gonna cry about it later?”
As Win pressed his lips to the top of his head, Team could feel the smile curving them. “Oh definitely,” he admitted, “the cutest little brat in the world said he’d live with me, how could I not cry?”
“Stop being gross and kiss me again.”
*
“I want to bring my table here,” Team announced later, when they were cuddled together in bed, shifting so his head rested over Win’s heart, the steady beat comforting. His low, Japanese table had followed him from home, to university, to his condo. He and Win had had dinner together for the first time on that table. He refused to leave it behind.
“Just a table? At least that’ll be easy to move. Planning on stealing more of my clothes?”
Team smacked at his stomach lightly, although there was a smile fighting its way onto his lips. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed my hoodie is missing. I’ve had to use yours.”
“Had to,” Win repeated, voice wry. His huffed laughter ruffled through Team’s hair. In the quiet that followed, Win began tracing small circles over Team’s bicep.
“Neither of us have schedules this weekend,” Team said. “We could do it then.”
He wasn’t prepared for Win flipping him onto his back so that he could loom over him with a wide grin, but the movement only pulled a short oof out of him. “You wanna move in with me so bad,” Win teased, squishing Team’s cheeks.
Team scowled, batting Win’s hands away. “Changed my mind,” he decided suddenly, “live on your own.”
“And who would buy you snacks, hm? Who would put your shoes away properly when you launch them across the hall? Admit it, you’re excited,” Win’s grin was infectious, and the second Team’s lip twitched, he cackled.
“Shut up,” Team grouched, though the effect was lost by the smile creeping across his own face.
Later, just before they fell asleep, forehead to forehead, Team whispered, “I am excited, Hia,” and watched as Win blinked his eyes open to give Team a gentle, fond smile.
“Me too, baby.”
“... Can we get a cat?”
A snort, and then Win tilted his head up to press a kiss to Team’s forehead. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
They were so getting a cat.