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Est watches as William furrows his brows, staring intently at the scissor—like gesture he’s making with his fingers. They’re seated on the couch in Est’s apartment, a comfortable, slightly lived—in space that smells faintly of his cologne and whatever air freshener he’s been using. A soft glow from the lamp on the side table bathes them in warm light, making the moment feel strangely intimate despite the innocent premise.
Est sighs, shifting slightly to face William properly. “Okay, so imagine these are our lips,” he says, moving his fingers in a slow, deliberate motion. “When you kiss, it’s not just pressing your lips together. There’s a rhythm. You—” He pauses when he catches the lost look on William’s face.
William’s brows are drawn together, lips slightly pursed in frustration as he leans in, squinting at Est’s hand like it holds the secrets of the universe. “I still don’t get it,” he mumbles, voice laced with genuine confusion.
Est fights back a smile. There’s something ridiculously endearing about William when he’s like this—so determined, so serious, yet completely clueless. He drops his hand onto his lap and tilts his head, observing William for a moment. His flushed ears, the slight pout, the way his fingers twitch as if itching to take notes like this is some sort of lecture.
Est exhales, amused but also a little exasperated. “You really don’t get it?” he asks, his voice dropping just a little.
William huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “If I did, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?”
Est bites the inside of his cheek, debating his next move. He hadn’t thought teaching William to kiss would be this difficult. And yet, here they are—William staring at him like he’s speaking an entirely different language.
“Well,” Est leans in slightly, his voice teasing, “there’s only one way to really understand it.”
William’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, his gaze flickers to Est’s lips for the briefest second before darting back up. “You mean…?”
Est raises a brow. “Want me to show you?”
William’s throat goes dry. “How?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Est doesn’t miss the way his eyes dart nervously between his lips and his hands. Amused, he straightens up, stepping back just enough to give William a moment to breathe before answering, “I’ll be Thame, and you’ll be Po.” His voice is smooth, teasing, but there’s a deliberate weight to his words.
Before William can react, Est stands, positioning himself in front of where William is still sitting on the couch. The shift in dynamic is immediate—Est towering slightly over him, the air between them suddenly heavier. William swallows hard when Est gently cups his face, his palms warm and steady against his jaw.
The moment stretches, thick with anticipation. William is tense but unmoving, his hands gripping the couch cushion beneath him. Est leans in, close enough that William can feel the ghost of his breath against his lips. His voice dips softer, steadier. “Can I kiss you?”
William’s chest tightens. He wasn’t expecting the question—not like this, not in a way that made his stomach flip and his heart hammer against his ribs. “Phi…” His voice wavers, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he forces himself to nod. “O-Okay.”
Est’s lips press against his in a simple, chaste kiss. It’s nothing overwhelming, just a press—gentle, testing, giving William a chance to adjust. But even that has his skin burning, his breath hitching at the sheer closeness. Est pulls away almost immediately, searching his face.
“You okay?” Est murmurs.
William swears he forgets how to speak for a second. He nods—probably too fast—but his gaze betrays him, falling right back to Est’s lips. The way they curve into a knowing smile doesn’t help at all.
Est chuckles softly, amused. Then, without warning, he leans in again—but this time, it’s different.
The kiss is deeper, heavier with intent. It’s not just a press of lips anymore—it’s slow, deliberate, a careful pull and push, just enough to make William’s head spin. Est tilts his head, guiding the kiss with practiced ease, his hands still framing William’s face as if keeping him in place.
William feels like he’s burning from the inside out. His fingers twitch against his lap, his breath stuttering when Est’s lips move against his with a purpose. It’s intoxicating, dizzying—the way Est kisses him with a kind of hunger that makes him forget this is supposed to be a demonstration.
By the time Est finally pulls away, their lips are swollen, breaths uneven. William is red—so, so red—his entire body warm like he’s sitting too close to a fire. His heart is pounding so loudly he wonders if Est can hear it too.
“T-Then what?” William stammers, barely able to form words. His voice is unsteady, wrecked, his lips tingling from the ghost of Est’s touch.
Est, still too close, smirks. “You tell me.”
William huffs, his breath coming out in a stuttering whine, heat crawling up his neck. His fingers grip his jeans tightly, knuckles white. “The script says… that Thame pushes Po down on the sofa and—”
He doesn’t get to finish.
Est’s hands move before William can process what’s happening. His palm presses firmly against William’s shoulder, guiding him backward with effortless ease. William barely has time to react before he’s sinking into the couch, his back hitting the cushions, head tilting against the armrest. And then—Est is above him.
The shift in position is overwhelming. Est’s body hovers just close enough that William can feel the warmth radiating from him, his frame caging him in. The air between them is thick, charged, making William’s heart hammer against his ribs like a frantic drum.
Est smirks, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watches William struggle to keep himself together. “Then… what does Thame do next, hm?” His voice is low, teasing, dragging William further into a haze he isn’t sure how to escape from.
William swallows hard, his fingers twitching at his sides. His breath is unsteady, chest rising and falling too fast. He can feel Est’s presence pressing down on him, feel the weight of his gaze, feel—
“Thame kisses Po again…” William breathes, barely audible.
Est doesn’t hesitate. He leans down, closing the space between them in a slow, deliberate descent. William’s breath hitches, his pulse a deafening roar in his ears.
“Phi…” William whines, voice trembling, but he doesn’t push him away.
“Yes?” Est’s reply is quiet, patient, his lips mere inches away.
William hesitates, his chest tight with something unfamiliar. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper—shy, uncertain, but wanting—he asks, “Kiss me again.”
Something in Est’s expression shifts, his teasing smirk softening into something more unreadable. And then—he kisses him.
This time, there’s no hesitation, no holding back.
Est presses in, capturing William’s lips in a slow, deep kiss that steals every ounce of air from his lungs. His lips move with purpose, coaxing, teasing, tilting his head just enough to mold them together perfectly. William gasps into it, startled by the sheer intensity, his fingers instinctively gripping the fabric of Est’s shirt.
Est deepens the kiss without missing a beat, his lips parting slightly to take more of William’s mouth, pulling, pressing, exploring. His hands find their way to William’s waist, fingers warm as they press lightly against the fabric of his hoodie, grounding him, keeping him steady.
William trembles beneath him, his mind spinning, his body melting into the couch. His own hands move hesitantly, clutching at Est’s biceps, feeling the warmth of his skin through the thin material. The kiss is intoxicating—slow and deliberate, yet desperate all the same.
They pull apart just enough to suck in a breath, lips barely separating before Est dives back in, hungrier this time. His tongue swipes against William’s bottom lip, teasing, asking, and William—still lightheaded, still drowning—lets him in without a second thought.
A quiet whimper escapes him, barely noticeable, but Est hears it. He groans softly in response, tightening his grip on William’s waist. The weight of him, the heat, the way he tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more—it’s all too much.
William feels like he’s floating, overwhelmed by the way Est kisses him like he’s the only thing in the world that matters. His fingers curl into the fabric of Est’s shirt, holding on for dear life as their lips part and meet again in a dizzying rhythm.
By the time Est finally pulls away, both of them are breathless, their lips swollen and slick. William’s face is flushed, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He blinks up at Est, dazed, lips still parted like he’s waiting—like he’s still processing what just happened.
Est smirks, brushing his thumb lazily against William’s waist where his hands still rest. “Still don’t get it, baby?” he teases, voice hoarse from kissing.
William can’t even argue this time. He just stares at him, wide-eyed and wrecked, his entire body burning from the inside out.
Seeing William so shy and utterly embarrassed, Est feels his heart squeeze in the softest way. His teasing smirk fades into something fond, something dangerously close to adoration.
He chuckles, warm and breathy, before leaning down to press a lingering kiss to William’s forehead. It’s light, barely there, but it makes William tense all over again. His eyes squeeze shut, his breath catching as if that simple gesture is somehow more intimate than the kisses they just shared.
Est grins, feeling entirely too endeared by the sight. He straightens up, stretching his arms before stepping back. “The next scene…” he starts, his voice playful. “Fern interrupts Thame and Po before they continue.”
William groans, hiding his face in his hands as he sinks deeper into the sofa. A small, sulky pout forms on his lips, his cheeks still flushed a deep red. “I hate you,” he mumbles, muffled against his palms.
Est laughs. “No, you don’t.”
William just huffs, refusing to lift his head.
Still grinning, Est grabs the remote and plops down beside him, clicking through the movie selection. “Alright, let’s take a break. You look like you’re about to combust.” He finally settles on a random film and leans back, shifting comfortably into the cushions.
William slowly peeks out from behind his fingers, still pouting but noticeably calmer. He watches the screen in silence, his body gradually relaxing. The embarrassment still lingers in the pink of his cheeks, but the warmth of the moment—the quiet comfort of just being next to Est—soothes him.
At some point, the exhaustion catches up to him. His eyelids grow heavy, his breathing slows, and before he realizes it, he’s leaning against Est’s shoulder, his weight sinking naturally against him.
Est glances down, feeling the slight pressure against his side. A soft smile tugs at his lips when he sees William, fast asleep, his face peaceful despite the earlier flustered mess he’d been.
Est exhales, quiet and content. His fingers brush lightly against William’s wrist, just a ghost of a touch, and he lets him stay there—close, warm, and his.