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Phuwin didn’t even realize he was doing it.
The fan event was loud—cheers, phones raised high, lightsticks bobbing in the air. Phuwin always said he was fine with crowds. Most days, he was. Smiling came easily, waving came naturally, answering questions felt automatic after years of practice. But sometimes—on days when the lights were too bright and the cheers blended into one overwhelming roar—his chest felt tight in a way he couldn’t explain.
Today was one of those days.
The fan event hall buzzed with energy. Pond stood beside him, tall as always, smiling easily at the fans as he waved, bowed, did the usual fanservice gestures like he was born for it. Phuwin mirrored the motions, nodding, smiling, laughing at the right moments.
Still, something felt off.
Phuwin tried to focus. He really did.
But the noise felt too much today.
Without thinking, his fingers drifted sideways, brushing against Pond’s hand. Pond didn’t flinch. Instead, his hand shifted just enough, his thumb slipping naturally into Phuwin’s palm like it had always belonged there.
Phuwin exhaled.
The moment his hand wrapped around it, warmth bloomed through his palm, up his arm, straight into his chest.
Oh.
His breathing slowed.
The noise faded into the background, dulled and distant. All that mattered was the familiar feel of Pond’s thumb resting perfectly against his palm, solid and reassuring.
Pond glanced down.
Phuwin was staring straight ahead, pretending nothing was happening—but his grip tightened just a little.
Pond smiled.
He didn’t pull away. He adjusted instead, thumb curling naturally into Phuwin’s hold, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Unfortunately for them, fans were very observant.
Phones zoomed in.
Whispers spread.
Someone near the front audibly squeaked.
And just like that, the internet gained a new obsession.
Phuwin found out later that night, curled up on the couch with his phone while Pond showered.
The first post he saw made his eyes widen.
WHY IS PHUWIN HOLDING POND’S THUMB LIKE THAT 😭
He scrolled.
Bad idea.
IT’S SO SMALL?? SO INTIMATE??
POND DIDN’T EVEN MOVE HIS HAND AWAY
PHUWIN FOUND HIS COMFORT PERSON AND IT’S POND’S THUMB 😭😭😭
Phuwin groaned and buried his face into a cushion.
“This is bad” he muttered.
Pond walked out then, towel draped around his neck. “What’s bad?”
Phuwin slowly lifted his head. “You’re trending.”
Pond blinked. “Again?”
“For my—” Phuwin hesitated, then mumbled, “—thumb-holding.”
Pond paused. Then he laughed.
Not teasing. Not loud.
Just soft.
“That’s it?” he asked. “I thought it was something serious.”
Phuwin stared at him. “People are calling it romantic.”
Pond sat beside him, close enough that their knees touched. “Is it not?”
Phuwin’s face burned. “…I just like holding it.”
Pond smiled softly. “Then just keep on holding it.”
Phuwin didn’t even hesitate.
A few days later, they were at the mall—off schedule, no staff hovering, just the two of them. Pond had to help at his stall for a bit, so Phuwin waited nearby, pretending not to be bored as he scrolled on his phone.
In reality, he kept glancing up.
Pond noticed.
He finished up quickly and walked over. “Sorry. Took longer than I thought.”
“It’s okay” Phuwin said softly.
As they started walking, Phuwin hesitated—just a little. Pond noticed immediately. Without a word, he slowed his pace and angled his hand closer.
Phuwin reached out and wrapped his fingers around it.
The relief was immediate.
Pond’s hand curled slightly in response, protective but relaxed.
A fan nearby saw them and saw the thumb-holding.
They filmed it.
By the time they got back to the car, the video was already online.
The teasing got worse.
“Phuwin” Santa said one day, deadpan. “Do you hold his thumb while yall are asleep?”
Dunk added, “Is it like an emotional support?”
Joong nodded. “Emotional stability restored at 100%.”
Phuwin buried his face in his hands. “Why are you all like this?”
Pond laughed, real and fond. He reached over, gently prying Phuwin’s hands away.
Then, in front of everyone, he laced his thumb back into Phuwin’s grip.
“Because” Pond said simply, “this makes him feel safe.”
The room went quiet.
Phuwin looked up at him, eyes soft. “…You don’t mind?”
Pond squeezed his fingers gently. “Never did.”
Phuwin smiled—small, shy, content.
Phuwin thought their friends will stop teasing him.
Well, key word: thought
Dunk was the first to strike.
“So” he said casually, scrolling through X, “should we start bringing Pond along whenever Phuwin feels overwhelmed, or is just the thumb enough?”
Joong snorted. “It’s like a built-in grounding technique.”
Santa nodded seriously. “Psychologically speaking, it’s actually very effective.”
Phuwin groaned. “Why are you all like this?”
Pond, ever unbothered, simply reached out and offered his hand.
Phuwin took it.
Thumb and all.
Then room erupted.
The room was quiet in the way only late nights could be.
No phones. No schedules. No voices bleeding through walls.
Phuwin was curled against Pond’s schest, legs entangled, head resting comfortably under Pond’s chin. Pond’s arm was draped around him, thumb absentmindedly tracing slow, familiar circles against Phuwin’s hand.
Phuwin held onto it without thinking. Some habits didn’t need explanations.
The city lights outside flickered softly, distant and muted. Phuwin’s breathing had already slowed, matching the steady rise and fall beneath his cheek. The day felt far away now—no crowds, no noise, no eyes watching.
Just them.
Pond looked down after a while, noticing the way Phuwin’s fingers were curled so carefully around his thumb, like it was something fragile.
“Can I ask you something?” Pond said quietly.
Phuwin hummed in response, thumb brushing lightly against Pond’s.
“Why do you like holding it so much?”
Phuwin didn’t answer right away.
He shifted slightly, pressing closer, as if searching for the right words in the space between them. Pond didn’t rush him. His thumb stayed right where it was, warm and steady.
“It helps” Phuwin finally said.
Pond waited.
“When things get loud” Phuwin continued softly, “or when my thoughts won’t stop… I don’t always notice it happening. But when I hold your thumb, It quiets down.” He paused, fingers tightening just a little. “When I hold on to it, it helps me ground myself? Like a little reminder that you’re with me, that you’re beside me”
Pond’s chest rose slowly beneath him.
“It’s like…” Phuwin exhaled, searching. “Like my body remembers before my mind does. My breathing slows down. My hands stop shaking. Everything feels…calm.”
He tilted his head up slightly, eyes meeting Pond’s in the dim light.
“And it’s you” he added quietly. “I think that’s why it works.”
Something warm settled in Pond’s chest.
He lifted Phuwin’s hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles, then laced his thumb back into that familiar hold.
“Keep on holding on to me, okay?” Pond said, voice low but certain.
Phuwin smiled—soft, relieved, a little emotional.
He tucked his face back against Pond’s chest, grip steady and sure.
The world could be loud tomorrow.
Tonight, he was grounded, at peace, and safe.
And Pond didn’t move his thumb—not even once.