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Santa hated rumors.
They always found ways to sink into his skin, no matter how hard he tried to ignore them. The latest one had been eating at him for days—quiet whispers, Twitter threads, and “accidental” photos of Perth with someone who was definitely not him.
Prim Chanikarn. Of course it had to be someone like her—beautiful, talented, GMMTV’s sweetheart. The perfect match, everyone said. Fans were thrilled. Management wasn’t denying it. And worst of all?
Perth didn’t either.
Not when he had the chance.
Santa sat stiffly beside him during a break in filming Me and Thee , watching from the corner of his eye as Prim leaned her head on Perth’s shoulder. Perth didn’t even flinch. He just smiled, let her stay there, like Santa didn’t exist.
Like he hadn’t once held Santa’s hand under the table at a fan event. Like he hadn’t once whispered, “You always make everything better,” when Santa brought him snacks during late-night shoots.
Like he didn’t know what he was doing to him.
Santa swallowed hard, script pages trembling in his grip. He tried to focus on the lines, tried to focus on anything except the burning ache in his chest.
“Okay, let’s go through this scene one more time,” Pond said, cheerful as ever, standing beside Phuwin. “Santa? You good?”
Santa nodded too quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
He wasn’t.
Because when he glanced up again, Perth was already laughing at something Prim had whispered in his ear—and something inside Santa cracked.
He stood up abruptly, dropping his script. “Sorry—I need a minute.”
And then he was gone, storming out of the room with his heart pounding in his ears, his chest tightening with every step.
It took Pond and Phuwin five minutes to find him—curled in on himself in the dance room, pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, sobs wrecking through him in sharp, breathless waves.
“Santa—oh my god,” Pond rushed to his side, helping him sit on the floor. “Hey, hey, breathe. You’re okay.”
Phuwin crouched down with a bottle of water, his hand gently rubbing Santa’s back. “You’re safe. Just breathe, okay?”
Santa tried. It took a while.
When he finally spoke, his voice was broken and barely there.
“I love him.”
Pond and Phuwin stayed still, listening.
“I’ve loved him since we started this whole thing. I thought—I thought maybe he felt the same. He always looked at me like he did. He made me feel like I mattered . Like I was more than just a costar. And now he’s with her and I just… I can’t do this anymore. I see him every day and it hurts so much and I don’t know what to do—”
Pond didn’t wait. He pulled him into a hug, arms tight around him. “You don’t have to hold it in anymore. We’ve got you, okay? We’re here.”
Phuwin’s voice was soft but fierce. “He doesn’t deserve to make you feel like this. Not if he can’t even see what’s right in front of him.”
Santa leaned into Pond’s chest, still shaking, eyes swollen and red.
“It hurts.”
Santa’s sobs had quieted, but the wreckage still showed—red-rimmed eyes, trembling fingers gripping the hem of his sweatshirt, voice barely louder than a whisper.
“I just wanted him to choose me.”
Pond didn’t let go of him. He tightened the hug, like he could squeeze all the heartbreak out of him if he just held on tight enough.
“He should have,” Pond murmured into his hair. “He should’ve seen you. You’ve been right in front of him this whole time.”
Phuwin sat cross-legged beside them, still rubbing Santa’s back, gentle but steady. “You didn’t deserve this, Santa. Not the way he let this all happen. Not the way he made you feel like you mattered and then acted like it was nothing.”
Santa let out a broken laugh, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of Perth’s hoodie —the one he’d stolen months ago and never gave back. It swallowed him whole now, like it always did. It used to be comforting.
Now it just hurt.
“I thought maybe… I was being delusional, you know?” Santa sniffled. “Like maybe I read too much into things. But the way he looked at me sometimes—it felt real. It felt like something.”
Phuwin and Pond exchanged a glance—knowing, angry, soft all at once.
“It was real,” Pond said fiercely. “I’ve seen it. I’ve watched the way he looks at you. He just—he’s so wrapped up in whatever game he’s playing with himself, he can’t admit it.”
“He’s gonna lose you if he keeps doing this,” Phuwin added quietly. “And he’ll only realize when it’s too late.”
Santa looked down at his hands. “I think it already is.”
A silence fell, heavy but safe. The kind of silence that comes when you know you’re finally allowed to break.
After a few minutes, Pond gently pulled away and looked at him. “Come on. Let’s get out of here, yeah? You need to rest. You’ve been holding this in for too long.”
Santa nodded, slow and numb.
“I’ll drive,” Pond said, standing and offering him a hand. “Phuwin and I will take you home.”
Phuwin opened his mouth, then paused. “Actually… you two go ahead. I’ll stay back for a sec.”
Pond blinked. “You sure?”
Phuwin’s smile was tight. “Yeah. Just need to… grab something. I’ll be right behind you.”
Santa didn’t question it. He was too drained to notice the way Phuwin’s jaw clenched, or the storm brewing behind his calm expression.
He just let Pond help him up, leaning against his friend as they headed for the exit, hoodie sleeves covering his hands, eyes still raw from crying.
Phuwin waited until the door clicked shut behind them.
Then he turned around, slowly, and his footsteps echoed down the hall as he made his way back to the rehearsal room—where Perth and Prim were still sitting too close, too happy, too clueless.
And oh… he was ready.
Perth didn’t notice the footsteps at first—too busy laughing softly at something Prim was saying, her hand resting on his arm like she belonged there.
Then the door slammed open.
Phuwin didn’t speak at first.
He just stood there in the doorway, soaked in tension, eyes narrowed and blazing . There was a silence that crackled—like the moment before lightning strikes.
Perth blinked. “Phuwin?”
And then it happened.
SLAP.
A sharp, echoing sound cracked through the room as Phuwin’s hand met Perth’s cheek.
Prim gasped. Perth staggered back a step, his hand flying to his face, wide-eyed.
“What the hell ?!” he snapped.
“You’re so fucking blind, Perth,” Phuwin spat, voice shaking with rage. “ So fucking blind. Do you even know what you’re doing to him?”
“Who—”
“SANTA!” Phuwin’s voice roared , raw and furious. “He’s breaking because of you. He’s been in love with you this whole time, and you—” his voice cracked, “—you’ve been parading her around like he’s not standing right there.”
Prim looked stunned, frozen in place.
Perth looked like the ground had just vanished beneath him.
“He was fine ,” Phuwin said, bitterly. “He was trying to keep it together. Trying to smile, show up, do his job. And then you confirmed it. That you and Prim are dating. And I watched the light go out of him.”
Perth swallowed hard, speechless.
“He cried himself into a panic attack, Perth,” Phuwin said, quieter now, but somehow even more vicious. “He couldn’t breathe. Pond and I found him shaking on the dance room floor. And you know what he said?”
Silence.
“He said, ‘I thought maybe he felt the same. I thought he’d choose me.’”
Something in Perth’s face shattered.
“And the worst part?” Phuwin’s voice dropped. “He was still wearing your hoodie, the matching necklaces and bracelets you gifted him.
Prim blinked fast, covering her mouth. “Perth… I didn’t know—”
Phuwin turned to her, calmer now, but still sharp. “It’s not your fault. But you need to leave. He’s got something to fix.”
Prim didn’t move at first. Her eyes moved slowly from Phuwin to Perth, to the tension now settling in the air like dust. And then she let out a breath—soft, heavy, knowing.
“No,” she said gently. “He’s right.”
Perth’s gaze flicked up to her, confused.
“We should end this,” Prim continued, stepping forward, placing a light hand on his arm. “I think we both knew this wasn’t… it. And honestly?”
She gave a sad smile. “Everyone can see it. The way you look at Santa? It’s always been him.”
Perth’s breath hitched.
Prim gave a quiet nod. “Go. Fix it. Before it’s too late.”
And then she walked out—graceful, unbothered, iconic.
Phuwin turned on his heel to leave, chest still heaving from the explosion of it all.
Only—when he opened the door, Pond was standing right there.
He had watched the whole thing.
Perth frozen inside the room. Prim walking away. Phuwin, eyes flashing and cheeks flushed from the slap. And for a second, Pond just stared at him.
Then, “God, you’re so hot,” Pond whispered. “I’m so in love with you.”
Phuwin blinked. Then giggled. “Took you long enough. Where’s santa?”
Pond snapped out of his trance, “In the car waiting for us. Come on, let’s get out of here.” Phuwin just smiled at him.
And they walked off together, hand in hand, the hallway echoing behind them—leaving Perth alone in the room with nothing but his regret, and one clear truth burning through his chest:
It’s always been Santa.
The rain was relentless.
It beat against the windshield, streaking down in messy rivers as Perth gripped the wheel tighter, his knuckles white. Wipers fought to keep up, but they couldn’t wipe away the panic thudding in his chest.
You’re already out of time.
Phuwin’s words echoed louder than the thunder.
He didn’t even realize he was speeding until the lights of Santa’s neighborhood blurred past. His heart felt like it was going to collapse from the weight of it all. From everything he hadn’t said. From everything he’d run from.
And when he pulled into the driveway, headlights cutting through the rain—
Santa’s house stood quiet.
Still.
He barely parked before throwing his door open and stepping into the downpour, instantly drenched. Cold water clung to his skin. His hoodie— Santa’s hoodie, the one he didn’t even know had gone missing—was nowhere in sight.
Until the front door creaked open.
And there he was.
Santa.
Hair damp, face puffy and blotchy from crying, eyes red and tired. Drowning in an oversized hoodie that Perth instantly recognized as his.
It was practically swallowing him whole.
Perth’s breath hitched.
Santa blinked in confusion, like he wasn’t sure if this was real. “Perth?”
“I’m sorry,” Perth said immediately, his voice cracking under the weight of it. “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry—”
Santa didn’t move.
“I didn’t know,” Perth went on, stepping closer through the rain, voice desperate. “I didn’t see it—not because it wasn’t there, but because I was too scared to admit that I—”
He stopped.
Santa was still staring at him. Silent. Soaked in pain and silence and hoodie fabric.
Perth’s voice softened. “I only dated Prim because I didn’t want to admit I was in love with you.”
Santa’s eyes shimmered, a single tear falling even though he’d already cried a thousand before.
Perth stepped closer. “I thought if I pushed it down, if I distracted myself, it’d go away. But it didn’t. It only got worse. Every time you looked at me like I meant something, I wanted to believe it. But I thought I’d ruin everything if I let myself feel it.”
He was standing at the doorstep now, dripping wet, shaking.
“I ruined everything anyway.”
Santa didn’t speak for a second. Then—
“You did.”
And Perth looked like he was about to break.
But then Santa stepped back.
Just one step.
Silent invitation.
Perth didn’t hesitate. He stepped into the house.
Santa shut the door behind them, locking out the rain. The silence between them buzzed with a thousand things unsaid. Water pooled on the floor under Perth’s feet.
Then Santa finally said, quietly, “Why now?”
Perth looked at him like he didn’t deserve to. “Because it took Phuwin slapping the shit out of me to realize I’ve been in love with you since day one.”
Santa let out a choked laugh. “That sounds about right.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you,” Perth whispered. “I never meant to. I was just… scared.”
Santa’s voice was small. “Do you mean it?”
Perth stepped closer.
“I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”
And then—finally, finally—Santa let himself believe it.
He reached up, took Perth’s soaked hand in his hoodie-covered one, and pulled him in.
Into warmth.
Into safety.
Into home.
And when they kissed, slow and trembling and real—there was no audience, no scripts, no rumors.
Just two idiots in love, in a too-big hoodie, in a too-small hallway, where everything finally felt right.
Santa tugged Perth by the hand toward the couch, hoodie sleeves swallowing his fingers.
“You’re literally dripping all over my floor,” he mumbled, but there was a small smile pulling at his lips now.
“I’m aware,” Perth said, breathless and grinning as he stepped out of his squelching sneakers. “But I feel like if I change clothes right now, you might disappear.”
Santa rolled his eyes, cheeks tinged pink. “Dramatic.”
“Accurate,” Perth countered. “I’ve been love-sick and stupid for months. You’re lucky I didn’t show up outside your window with a boombox.”
Santa snorted, pulling him down onto the couch.
Perth collapsed with a soft “oof,” immediately curling toward Santa like he was gravity.
The hoodie— his hoodie—smelled like vanilla fabric softener and Santa’s shampoo. He leaned in, resting his forehead gently against Santa’s. “Hi.”
Santa giggled, quiet and real. “Hi.”
They just sat there for a second, noses brushing, their legs tangled like they’d done this a hundred times. The rain still tapped against the windows, softer now. Like the sky had cried everything out for them too.
“Can I kiss you again?” Perth whispered.
Santa pretended to think. “Only if you promise not to cry on me.”
“I make no promises.”
Santa laughed and kissed him anyway. Soft. Giddy. Just a little messy because Perth was still wet and freezing, but it didn’t matter. It was perfect.
When they pulled apart, Perth let out a long, shaky breath. “God, I missed this.”
“You never had this,” Santa said with a grin.
“I should have ,” Perth shot back. “You should’ve told me.”
Santa raised an eyebrow. “You were kissing Prim instead of me.”
Perth groaned and flopped back on the couch, his head in Santa’s lap. “Okay, yeah, point made. I was dumb. Like, criminally dumb.”
“You’re lucky I’m forgiving,” Santa said, playing with his hair.
“I’m lucky in general,” Perth mumbled, eyes fluttering closed as Santa’s fingers combed through his wet strands. “Because you’re here. Still. Somehow.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“So,” Santa said, suddenly shy, “does this mean we’re, like… boyfriends now?”
Perth blinked up at him. “Santa.”
“Hm?”
“I just broke up with my now ex-girlfriend, drove in a monsoon, got slapped by Phuwin, and sobbed at your front door all in the name of love.” He sat up and cupped Santa’s cheeks. “If you’re not my boyfriend after all that, I’m jumping back into the rain.”
Santa laughed so hard he had to cover his face with his sleeves. “Okay, okay! Calm down. I’ll date you.”
Perth leaned in. “Say it properly.”
Santa gave him the softest, most lovestruck look imaginable. “Perth Tanapon Sukhumpantanasan… will you be my boyfriend?”
Perth smiled like he was twelve again, like someone had just given him the moon. “I thought you’d never ask.”
And then they kissed again—warm and slow and happy. Perth’s shirt was still soaking. Santa’s hoodie was still two sizes too big. But the couch was soft, the room was warm, and for the first time in months, everything finally felt exactly how it was meant to be.
Two idiots in love. On a couch. Officially boyfriends.
Finally.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time they made it to Santa’s room.
Perth had finally changed—into a pair of borrowed sweatpants and a tee that still smelled like Santa’s closet. His hair was damp from the towel Santa ruffled through it earlier, and he was already yawning as he collapsed onto the bed like it was the comfiest thing in the universe.
Santa just stood there for a second, watching him.
“What?” Perth asked sleepily, lifting his head.
“You’re in my bed.”
“You invited me in,” Perth mumbled, already curling under the blanket like he belonged there. “Also, I’m your boyfriend now. I think that gives me premium cuddle privileges.”
Santa rolled his eyes fondly but climbed in beside him anyway, slipping under the covers. Perth immediately wrapped an arm around him, tugging him in until their legs tangled and their foreheads touched again, just like on the couch.
“You’re clingy,” Santa murmured.
“You like it,” Perth said, already half-asleep.
Santa couldn’t argue with that.
For a while, they didn’t say anything. Just soft breathing and the sound of the rain hitting the windows. Fingers brushing. Legs nudging. Santa’s head tucked under Perth’s chin.
“You’re warm,” Santa whispered.
Perth smiled against his hair. “You’re perfect.”
Santa swatted his chest lightly. “Stop being cheesy.”
“Can’t help it,” Perth yawned. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, I’ve got months of repressed boyfriend behavior to unload.”
Santa snorted. “Great.”
They fell into silence again, cozy and safe. Perth’s breathing slowed, heavy and even, his fingers still laced with Santa’s.
And then, just before sleep pulled him under, Santa whispered so quietly it barely filled the air between them—
“I love you.”
Perth didn’t stir at first.
But then his arms tightened around Santa. A soft, sleep-heavy voice mumbled back:
“I love you more.”
And in the warmth of tangled sheets and finally-spoken truths, they drifted off—hearts full, hoodie forgotten at the foot of the bed, and the rain outside fading into nothing but a lullaby.
The next morning was soft.
Sunlight spilled through the curtains in slow, golden streaks. Santa blinked awake to the sound of quiet breathing and the comforting weight of an arm wrapped around his waist.
Perth.
Still there. Still real.
He was facing Santa, hair a fluffy mess, mouth parted slightly in sleep, the corner of his lips pulled into the tiniest smile.
Santa didn’t want to move.
But Perth stirred, eyes fluttering open. “Hey.”
Santa grinned. “Hi.”
They laid there for a second, just smiling at each other. No words. No rush. Just warmth.
Then Perth groaned and buried his face in Santa’s neck. “Do we have to go to work?”
“Yes,” Santa mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Unless you wanna be late and give Phuwin more reasons to slap you.”
“…Fair.”
They got ready together—brushing teeth side by side, arguing playfully over whose hair looked worse, stealing kisses between shirt changes. Santa made them toast and cut up fruit while Perth brewed coffee. It was slow. Domestic. So achingly them.
And when they arrived at the GMMTV building, hand in hand?
Chaos.
Phuwin spotted them first. He was already sitting in the waiting lounge with Pond, sipping on an iced coffee.
He blinked once. Twice.
And then—“OH MY GOD!!”
He launched out of his seat, dragging Pond with him. “You GUYS!!”
Santa laughed, trying to act calm, but his cheeks were pink as Phuwin hugged him tight. “It happened?” Phuwin asked excitedly, bouncing a little. “It actually happened ??”
Perth smiled, holding Santa’s hand tighter. “Yeah. Finally.”
Pond raised a brow. “And what? You two think you’re the new power couple now?”
Perth blinked. “No—?”
But Pond was already slinging an arm around Phuwin’s waist dramatically, pulling him close. “Me and my baby are still better.”
“Pond—” Phuwin warned, already flustered.
But Pond wasn’t done. He peppered kisses all over Phuwin’s cheek, ignoring the way he squirmed and hissed, “Stop it!! Not here!!”
Santa leaned over to Perth. “They’ve clearly been dating for years.”
Perth whispered back, “You think they’ll still love us if we out-cute them?”
“I think we already did.”
And they both laughed—giddy, happy, so in love.
“Hey,” Perth said, leaning into Santa’s side with a grin as everyone gathered in the studio hallway, “wanna go out to lunch?”
Santa raised a brow, smiling. “Like a date?”
“Yeah.” Then Perth looked over at Pond and Phuwin. “A double date.”
Phuwin perked up immediately. “Wait, are we going on a double date ?? Like right now?”
Pond smirked. “You love to third-wheel, don’t you, Phu?”
“I’m literally not the third wheel, you are the—never mind. Let’s go! Yay!”
Ten minutes later, they were crammed into a corner booth at a cozy Thai place not far from the building. Pond had his arm draped over the back of Phuwin’s chair like a claim , while Perth and Santa sat across from them, knees brushing under the table.
Santa poked at his noodles. “Why do I feel like we’re being watched?”
“Because we are ,” Phuwin said, glancing around. “You two can’t show up hand-in-hand to GMMTV and sit across from Pond and me looking like soft newlyweds without drawing attention.”
“I mean, they kinda are newlyweds,” Pond teased. “Have you seen the way Perth looks at him? He’s, like, five seconds away from dropping to one knee with a ring pop.”
Santa choked on his drink while Perth just grinned, unbothered. “It’d be cherry flavored.”
Phuwin groaned. “Please. I cannot handle two annoying couples.”
“You love us,” Pond whispered, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Phuwin tried to push him off but failed miserably. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
Across the table, Santa leaned into Perth’s side with a smile that made Perth forget how to breathe for a second.
“You okay?” Santa asked, nudging him.
“More than okay,” Perth murmured, pressing a quick kiss to Santa’s temple. “Best lunch break of my life.”
Just then, the waiter approached with their drinks, paused, and blinked at the scene before him: two clearly-in-love couples, all wrapped around each other like they were filming a romance drama live.
“Uh… so… are y’all, like…” The waiter trailed off.
Phuwin, completely straight-faced, said, “We’re co-workers.”
Pond, in the same breath: “We’re married.”
Perth: “Filming a drama.”
Santa: “This is the drama.”
The waiter stood there for a beat. “Cool. I’ll… get your pad krapow now.”
As he walked away, all four of them burst into laughter.
“You’re insane,” Santa said to Phuwin.
“You love it,” Phuwin fired back, flipping his straw at him.
And for the rest of lunch, there were shared dishes, footsie under the table, too many selfies, and even a group pic that Phuwin posted with the caption:
@phuwintang
“the real bl power quartet. #meandthee #doubletrouble #yeswe’rereal”
And by the time they returned to work, full and giggly and tangled in each other’s arms, one thing was clear:
This? This was only the beginning.
But of course, fans will be fans. It started with Phuwin’s selfie post:
@phuwintang:
the real bl power quartet.
#meandthee #doubletrouble #yeswe’rereal
[image: Perth, Santa, Pond, and Phuwin all squished into one booth, grinning like fools. Perth has his chin on Santa’s shoulder. Pond is mid-kiss on Phuwin’s cheek.]
Twitter. Instagram. TikTok. All exploded within minutes.
#PerthSanta trended in Thailand. Then globally.
Fan accounts were going feral:
@santaperth_lovemail:
“WERE YOU GUYS GONNA TELL US YOU WERE IN LOVE OR WERE WE JUST SUPPOSED TO FIND OUT FROM A PHUWIN SELFIE???”
@leeyachannie
“SANTA IN PERTH’S HOODIE. SANTA SLEEPING IN PERTH’S BED. SANTA GOING ON LUNCH DATES WITH PERTH.
WAKE UP EVERYONE WE’RE IN OUR ENDGAME ERA.”
But then, as always, the whispers began.
Screenshots of older paparazzi pics of Perth and Prim resurfaced. Old interviews. Vague “sources.”
@dramagossip_th:
“so… perth was just dating prim a week ago and now he’s posting lunch dates w/ santa? poor girl.”
The quote tweets were wild. Confusion. Assumptions. And worst of all—the comments under Prim’s posts started filling with pity and hate.
Until—Prim clapped back.
@primiily (Instagram story):
[black screen with white text]
“I love happy endings.
Even when they’re not mine.”
Then a second post. A mirror selfie. Her, in glam makeup and a fierce red top.
“no need to feel bad for me. i knew exactly what i was doing. perth’s heart? never mine. it always belonged to someone else.
(and i adore santa, btw. he’s my bae)
#bestieenergy #cheerforthem”
The internet. Went. Wild.
@gmmtvgirlsupremacy:
PRIM IS THE MVP. PRIM IS THE GOAT. PRIM IS THE REASON I BELIEVE IN HEALTHY EXES.
Just a few minutes later, Perth posted too:
@perthppe
“We all make choices. I made the wrong one at first—but I’m grateful I got a second chance.
Thank you, Prim, for understanding when you didn’t have to. And thank you… Santa, for always being patient. I love you.”
[photo: Santa’s hand laced with his, matching rings barely visible.]
Then, as if that wasn’t enough, Santa reposted it to his story with:
@santa.pp
“we’re soft boys in love. pls let us be.
also shoutout to prim for being iconic.”
And right after, a selfie of him and Prim backstage at the studio, both doing peace signs with messy hair and coffee in hand.
@santa.pp and @primiily
“me and my other soulmate. thanks for always having my back. love you forever @primiily”