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The phone screen dimmed as Chokun hit the little red “end” button, and the TikTok Live officially came to a close. The chat had been chaotic—as always—filled with fans spamming heart emojis and screaming about the two of them being “too close” and “just date already omg.”
Chokun tossed the phone onto Aston’s bed with a grin. “They’re so dramatic, huh?”
Aston was still a little pink in the cheeks from when Chokun had rested his chin on his shoulder mid-stream. “Mhm,” he mumbled, adjusting the sleeves of his hoodie, the one that just happened to belong to Chokun.
“Okay, movie time,” Chokun announced, grabbing the popcorn and plopping onto the bed beside Aston like he lived there. (Honestly, at this point, he kind of did.)
The screen glowed faintly in the dark room as the opening credits rolled. Outside, Bangkok buzzed softly, but inside, it was just the two of them—blankets tangled, snacks spread out, and shoulders barely brushing but buzzing with static.
About twenty minutes in, Aston was barely paying attention. Not because the movie was bad, but because Chokun kept sneaking glances at him. Like full-on head-turned, eyes-soft, lips-curved kind of glances.
“What?” Aston finally whispered, a nervous little laugh escaping.
Chokun blinked, caught. “Nothing. You just look really…” he paused, his voice quieter now. “…pretty.”
Aston’s eyes widened. “Chokun.”
“What?” Chokun smiled, nervous but earnest. “It’s true.”
Aston looked away, cheeks warming up like a kettle left on too long. He popped a piece of popcorn into his mouth to avoid replying.
Silence stretched for a few beats. Then Chokun shifted closer, the blanket pulling tighter around them.
“Hey, Aston?” Chokun’s voice was quieter this time, softer.
“Mhm?” Aston whispered, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.
“I need to say something,” Chokun continued, his tone a little more serious than usual. “It’s… I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. And I think maybe you’ve noticed?”
Aston’s heartbeat quickened. “Noticed what?”
Chokun shifted, sitting up a little. His fingers fiddled with the hem of his sleeve, and he took a deep breath. “I’ve had this… crush on you. I mean, not like the silly little crushes, but—” He laughed softly, awkwardly, but then his eyes locked with Aston’s, serious now. “I’m talking about the kind of crush where I can’t stop thinking about you. Where every time we talk, I find myself looking for ways to make you smile. Where I want to know every little thing about you, like… like what you like to do in your free time, or what makes you laugh, or if you like holding hands. And whenever I see you… I don’t know how to explain it, Aston. I feel like I’ve known you forever, but at the same time, I feel like I just want to keep getting closer.”
Aston’s breath hitched in his chest. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stared at Chokun, his mind racing. “Chokun…”
“I know, it sounds kind of dumb, right?” Chokun continued, his voice growing a little quieter now, vulnerable. “I’m probably being too forward, but I couldn’t keep pretending I wasn’t… falling for you.” His voice was a soft murmur, barely above a whisper. “And, well… I just want to know if you feel the same way. Because, honestly, I can’t stop thinking about how much I’d love to be more than just friends with you.”
Aston was silent, processing, his heart pounding in his chest. And then, slowly, he nodded.
“Chokun, you’re not being too forward,” Aston said softly, his voice trembling slightly. “I’ve been thinking about you, too. I didn’t want to admit it, but… I feel the same way.”
Chokun’s eyes lit up, his face breaking into a wide, almost unbelieving grin. “Really?”
“Really,” Aston whispered, his heart swelling in his chest. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face as he reached out and cupped Chokun’s cheek. “You’re the one I’ve been waiting for.”
Chokun leaned into Aston’s touch, his grin softening into something warmer, more tender. “So… may I be your boyfriend, Aston?”
Aston’s breath caught, and for a moment, he thought his heart might burst. “Yes. Please,” he replied, his voice soft and sincere.
The words felt like a weight lifted off his shoulders, and before either of them could say anything else, Chokun leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Aston’s cheek—gentle but filled with all the emotions that had been bubbling up between them. It wasn’t quick or rushed. It was full of sweetness, a promise.
Aston turned his head toward Chokun at the same time, and their lips brushed together, hesitant at first, testing, before deepening into a kiss that felt like coming home. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was everything they hadn’t been able to say in words, the feeling of “finally” made tangible. Chokun’s hand moved to Aston’s jaw, pulling him closer, and Aston’s arms slid around Chokun’s neck, holding him there, not wanting to let go.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless but with smiles tugging at their lips, Chokun gave Aston a soft squeeze and pulled him into a hug, wrapping his arms around Aston’s waist, his chin resting on the top of his head. Aston melted into him, feeling the warmth of Chokun’s embrace and the deep sense of rightness that settled in his chest.
“You’re mine now,” Chokun murmured into Aston’s hair, his voice a little teasing but full of affection.
Aston smiled, nuzzling into Chokun’s chest. “Always.”
THE MORNING AFTER
Sunlight crept through the curtains in quiet gold. Aston stirred, head tucked into Chokun’s shoulder, on top of chokun with his hands wrapped around his body, legs tangled together beneath the blankets. It would’ve been perfect if—
Knock knock.
“Aston, sweetie,” his mom’s voice filtered in gently through the door. “Your dad and I are heading out for a bit, okay? We’ll be back before lunch.”
“Okay,” Aston called back, voice raspy with sleep. “Drive safe.”
He turned and blinked at Chokun, who was still completely out, mouth slightly open, hair a fluffy mess against the pillow.
Aston smiled. How did this happen? How did he get to wake up next to the boy who confessed to liking him since the beginning?
Carefully, he kissed chokun on the cheek, slipped out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make some breakfast—eggs, toast, a little fruit. Something simple and warm.
He was halfway through scrambling the eggs when two arms snuck around his waist from behind.
“Good morning, teerak,” Chokun mumbled into his shoulder and kissed it.
Aston almost dropped the spatula.
“You scared me,” he breathed, heart thudding.
Chokun just held him tighter, chin resting on Aston’s shoulder now. “You smell good. And you’re cooking for me. I’m never leaving.”
Aston rolled his eyes, though his smile betrayed how happy he was. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m in love,” Chokun sighed. “It’s allowed.”
They ate together at the little table by the window, feet brushing under the table, both grinning like they couldn’t believe this was real. Chokun kept stealing bites of Aston’s toast and Aston kept letting him. There was no rush, no pressure—just quiet laughter and soft looks and a shared feeling that something really, really right had started.
And maybe the movie had ended last night, but their story? It was only just beginning.