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It wasn’t a fight.
It would’ve been easier if it was.
Fights have volume. They have a moment you can point to and say, this is where it happened.
This was quieter than that. Quiet enough that everyone else started filling in the blanks for them.
The event had ended an hour ago and by the time they got offstage, their phones were already vibrating in their pockets. The internet was doing what it did best…
Turning everything into a story.
Why are they distant today?
Did they fight?
Tle doesn’t even look at him.
Do they hate each other now?
Neither of them said anything about it.
They sat close enough that their arms brushed every time the driver took a turn and the space between them shrunk, almost like it wanted to disappear on its own.
They didn’t close it.
Not because they didn’t want to but because they were just…. tired.
Tle didn’t usually pay mind to the negative things being said online. He understood the pattern by now. People would talk no matter what and they had a talent for taking something ordinary and twisting it into a story it was never meant to be.
Today though…
Today was one of those days where everything felt slightly heavier and even the smallest comments settled in places they normally wouldn’t, like a weight he didn’t realize he was carrying until his shoulders started to ache.
He kept his gaze forward, watching the city blur past the window.
Beside him, FirstOne shifted, their arms brushing again when the car slowed at a light. He was scrolling through his phone and Tle had to fight the urge to snatch it away from him to keep him from reading anything negative.
FirstOne had been trying to practice not taking everything personally. Keeping what mattered, letting the rest go.
“If it’s constructive, we use it. If it’s just loud, we let it go.”
He repeated it like a mantra because it was what Tle would say.
He was getting better at it but every now and then a comment landed too hard and he couldn’t shake it off as easily.
His thumb hovered over his screen until it went dark.
—
“Rest well,” their manager said, dropping them off seperately, already half focused on tomorrow’s schedule.
Bangkok at night stayed humid and lanterns casted warm light across sidewalks. The street hummed around him, scooters passed, and someone laughed in the distance.
Tle didn’t go straight home.
Instead, he walked without much direction, hands in his pockets, letting the city pull him forward while his thoughts stayed heavy and restless.
He wasn’t trying to disappear so much as he wanted the city to stop looking back at him.
To stop being so invasive.
This was his job though, wasn’t it?
He passed a small table outside a closed café. Two chairs sat across from each other, slightly crooked.
He slowed.
For a second he just stood there, looking at the table like it had interrupted him. Then, he pulled one of the chairs back and sat down.
He rested his elbows lightly on the table and stared at the empty chair across from him, one leg slightly uneven against the ground.
His brain did that quiet, irritating thing it did when it missed someone.
When it missed FirstOne even though he had just seen him.
It filled in the space with him and with the small habits Tle knew by heart.
The ones that stayed consistent even when something was still sitting unresolved.
If FirstOne were sitting across from him right now, he’d probably lean too far forward without noticing. He’d closed whatever distance existed without asking like he always did. He’d say something pointless just to make Tle look up.
The silence never lasted long around him unless something was wrong.
Like today.
His smile never quite reached his eyes.
He could make it look bright.
Effortless.
But Tle knew the difference.
And he hated that tonight he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He took his phone out, unlocking it and stared at the screen without typing.
He could text..
Did you eat?
Are you home?
Are you okay?
But he didn’t.
Because texting him might open a conversation neither of them were ready to have.
—
Across the district, FirstOne was walking too.
He had meant to go home.
He really did.
But he turned left when he should’ve turned right and now he was letting his feet choose where to go for him.
He stopped near the river railing and rested his arms on it, staring at the water.
The river reflected whatever lights the city threw at it and moved the way it always did.
Steady.
Calming.
Reassuring.
….Just like Tle.
FirstOne watched the river for a while, because watching something was easier than acknowledging his own thoughts.
His mind though, had other plans. It kept returning to the same image, unwanted and persistent.
He imagined Tle standing beside him, quiet in a way that never felt like absence. Not performing. Not filling the air. Just being there, like an anchor.
FirstOne wanted that steadiness so badly lately that it almost scared him.
He leaned his forehead briefly against his forearm, closing his eyes, and let out a breath that sounded almost annoyed. At himself, mostly.
Because he’d noticed the space between him and Tle.
He’d noticed it like a fan would.
He lifted his head, looking back at the water, letting a few strands of hair fall over his eyes.
Lately, he’d been doing a lot of telling himself what to do.
Smile here, laugh there, don’t cling too much, don’t look too intense, don’t give them something they can twist.
Don’t. Don’t. Don’t.
It was exhausting.
If he was affectionate, people called it fanservice and accused him of being disingenuous. If he was quiet, people called it cold and asked if they hated each other. If he laughed too much, they said he was overdoing it. If he didn’t laugh, they said he was upset.
It was like being held under a microscope.
And he hated how that microscope had started crawling into his body.
Because the worst part wasn’t the comments.
It was what they made him do.
He’d started restricting himself. Not because he wanted to distance from Tle.
God, no.
But because he was trying to protect something he didn’t know how to protect.
And he could tell Tle was doing the exact same thing… at least to some extent.
They’d both already seen the way people dissected them lately. Already felt the way one small gesture could turn into a week of discourse. Already heard fans demand more, demand louder, demand proof.
And FirstOne,
He didn’t want the world to touch what felt… private.
But the irony was cruel.
The more he tried to keep it private, the more it looked like distance. And the more it looked like distance, the more people asked for proof.
So he pulled back, unintentionally.
He wondered if this was what people meant when they said you could miss someone who was right there.
—
Tle stayed at the café table longer than he meant to.
His chest felt tight, refusing to unclench until he acknowledged what he’d been refusing to name.
Exhaustion?
Hopelessness?
Longing?
He didn’t know.
All he knew was that today had been a hard day. A long day. A day where he’d smiled the right amount and answered everything the correct way but still ended up here feeling like something was slipping through his hands.
He didn’t like that feeling.
Because the thing slipping wasn’t a schedule or something insignificant, it was someone he loved and cared about.
It was frustrating..
He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to stop thinking about FirstOne tonight.
About the version of him that fans thought they knew.
The private, more candid version of him.
The one that showed up when nobody was filming.
The one who sprawled on a couch like he owned it, legs on top of Tle’s lap on purpose because he liked the closeness. The one who stole food off his plate like it was routine. The one who filled silence with nonsense and then, when it mattered, went quiet with a softness that made Tle’s chest ache.
That FirstOne didn’t hesitate.
That FirstOne didn’t measure every movement like it might become an online discourse.
Tle leaned back and stared up at the lanterns overhead, red light casting an almost intimate glow on the street.
He thought about how ridiculous it was that he had someone he cared about so much, someone who was always beside him, yet, tonight he was afraid to send one stupid text message.
He sat there for a few more seconds before standing up, pushing the chair back neatly.
He didn’t want to sit there and wait for his thoughts to turn into something else.
So he started walking again, hands back in his pockets, while his thoughts stayed stubbornly anchored to one person anyway.
—
FirstOne left the river and started walking again too.
He didn’t know where he was going, he just kept moving.
He remembered the first time they’d walked somewhere like this together. No schedule, no cameras, just killing time between rehearsals. How easy it felt.
He wondered when it stopped feeling easy..
He tugged his jacket tighter around himself, like warmth could fix what was twisting in his chest.
The truth of the matter was that he didn’t want distance at all.
He wanted his P’Tle.
—
The city pulled them both toward the same cross street without either of them deciding to go there.
Traffic was thinner now and people gathered at the curb.
Tle slowed, again.
He let himself take in the city properly, the way he rarely got to when he was moving from one schedule to the next.
He could smell the grilled meat and sweet condensed milk from a stall a few doors down.
Ordinary life continued around him without caring who he was and for a second, it almost made him feel lighter.
His hands stayed in his pockets, letting the movement of the city give his thoughts somewhere else to land.
Then he saw him.
FirstOne stepped up to the opposite curb, head tilted down and eyes on the ground before looking up, his gaze meeting Tle’s.
The relief hit FirstOne first, sharp and humiliating. It flashed through him so quickly he almost hated himself for it. Because it meant he’d been searching. It meant he’d been hoping.
Don’t be obvious, his mind warned immediately.
But his eyes didn’t listen.
Tle’s chest tightened.
He could see the exact way FirstOne’s shoulders stopped moving, the way his posture went rigid for half a second.
Tle didn’t move.
Instead, his eyes stayed on FirstOne’s face, taking him in with that quiet thoroughness he always had, noticing details without meaning to.
The slightly furrowed brows like he’d been thinking too hard for too long. The way his mouth didn’t quite know whether to smile or stay neutral. Eyes that were rounded, honest, and too easy to read.
FirstOne knew his face gave him away. It always had. The same fans who picked apart their distance could also tell exactly when FirstOne was feeling too much, because his eyes betrayed him before he could do anything to fix it.
A motorbike rolled past behind him, its headlight briefly flaring and then fading.
One of the teenagers at the curb shifted and took a loud sip of their drink while an older couple leaned closer to each other.
Tle barely registered any of it.
He stepped forward.
His body knew what to do even if his mind didn’t.
He crossed at a normal pace, hands still in his pockets, head slightly lowered, like he was just another person walking home.
FirstOne crossed at the same time.
He forced his steps to stay even, normal, like this wasn’t the only thing he’d wanted all night.
Like his heart wasn’t doing something stupid just because Tle was walking toward him.
Tle caught his eyes again, closer now, clear enough to see the shine of streetlight reflecting on his eyes.
FirstOne’s gaze flickered to his mouth and back up, so fast it was almost nothing.
But Tle knew better.
Because Tle had been swallowing that exact impulse for weeks, refusing to let it turn into something he couldn’t take back.
It always happened. In fan events, public outings, meetings.
And whether FirstOne felt the same way, he wasn’t sure of that either.
They stopped a few feet apart.
Close enough to close it in two steps. Far enough that it still felt like a question.
The distance felt like a test.
FirstOne just wanted Tle close in a way that didn’t belong to anyone else.
He wanted to say something honest like,
Hey, Phi.. I didn’t mean to pull back. I’m just trying not to ruin us.
But that kind of honesty felt too vulnerable.
…
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
A part of Tle wanted to ask the question, he’d been avoiding.
Are you tired of me yet?
But he didn’t.
He wasn’t sure he could survive the answer.
FirstOne’s mouth parted, then closed again, choosing each expression carefully the way he’d been choosing everything lately.
It only added on to Tle’s restlessness.
He wanted FirstOne to not have to walk on eggshells.
Especially around him.
“You’re far from home,” Tle said, voice low, with a hint of amusement in his voice.
He made it sound casual like he always did when something felt too tender to touch directly.
FirstOne’s shoulders loosened a fraction, the sound of Tle’s voice easing something in him. He gave a small huff of air, a half laugh.
“So are you.”
They stood there a moment longer, staring at each other, trying to understand that somehow their feet had brought them to the same place.
To each other.
FirstOne shifted first, a half step closer.
Tle didn’t move, just turned slightly, aligning himself with the direction of the street to offer the easiest next step.
And so they began walking side by side, close enough that their sleeves brushed when the sidewalk narrowed.
As they turned the corner, Tle’s gaze drifted to him.
FirstOne looked up automatically, a quick, soft glance that didn’t know whether to be brave or shy.
It was quick, familiar, and still somehow landed softer than it should have.
Tle bit the inside of his cheek, a small habit that always showed up when he was trying too hard to stay composed.
They held eye contact for a few seconds before facing forward again.
FirstOne didn’t dare look back at Tle.
His pulse quickened and heat spread up his neck to the tip of his ears in a way that felt embarrassingly obvious.
It was the the kind of tension that they’d brushed past before and the air was full of things they could say if either of them dared.
Both of them felt it but neither touched it.
They walked past another stall still open. The smell of tangy soup and sweet sauces hit their noses. A man laughed loudly into his phone, unbothered.
Tle shifted slightly, his shoulder brushing FirstOne’s, deliberately, correcting the distance without making a point of it.
FirstOne glanced at Tle’s profile, then away, then back again.
He wondered, how long they’d both been doing this. How long they’d been protecting each other so much they’d started to hurt each other by accident.
Tle finally spoke low and easy, “Did you eat?”
It was such a simple question.
It shouldn’t have made FirstOne so suddenly nervous.
He forced his voice to stay light. “A little.”
Tle didn’t say anything, just hummed like he wasn’t satisfied with the answer
“What about you?” FirstOne asked, feigning casualness.
Tle paused.
“A little,” he said, mirroring him.
FirstOne let out a small breath that sounded almost like a laugh and Tle couldn’t help but watch him, slowing a fraction like he’d been pulled in by the way FirstOne’s expression softened.
FirstOne glanced back at him, curious.
After a moment, Tle spoke. Sincere and honest.
“I missed Nong..” he said, looking down at FirstOne with a softness he never really offered anyone else.
FirstOne held the eye contact longer than necessary, chest beating too hard.
Their eyes held the conversation their mouths couldn’t.
And then, FirstOne looked away.
“I missed Phi too,” he said, slight nervousness tugging at his voice, the comfort between them still there underneath it.
He stared at the street, at his own feet, anywhere but Tle’s eyes, then added, “and I didn’t mean to make you worry.”
No response.
He started lifting his gaze toward Tle again, but before he could say anything else, Tle’s hand was high on FirstOne’s arm.
Then, he let it travel downward, unhurried, smoothing along FirstOne’s arm until his fingers found FirstOne’s hand at his side.
FirstOne’s steps faltered. He looked down at their hands as Tle gave a light, gentle squeeze.
Tle kept his posture calm, but his mind was loud in a way it rarely was.
He knew this version of FirstOne. The one who could be fearless onstage and still afraid of being too much.
FirstOne lifted his gaze, and for a second his eyes were too open, too honest.
FirstOne’s stared at Tle, searching for any hint of teasing, anything that would soften it into a joke.
But Tle just gave the smallest nod like he was making a promise.
“Phi will be here, okay? Always, na.”
He nodded again, once more, as if to seal it.
He said it like it was simple. Like it wasn’t the kind of sentence that could make someone feel chosen without having to ask.
FirstOne kept looking at Tle.
He needed to see the honesty stay on Tle’s face for one more second to believe it.
Then, before he could stop it, the corner of his mouth lifted, slow at first before a dimple appeared.
An honest, genuine smile.
One that only ever appeared around Tle.
Tle’s chest warmed so fast it almost made him dizzy.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t tease him. He just tightened his grip on FirstOne’s hand and gave a small tug.
A silent question.
An invitation.
FirstOne immediately stepped in and Tle wrapped his arms around him, pulling him in. One arm was around his waist, and the other around his shoulders, steady and sure.
FirstOne exhaled into Tle’s shoulder, letting out a shaky breath he’d been saving all night.
His grip on the back of Tle’s shirt tightened.
This felt safe, familiar in the exact way they both needed. Not the kind of safety you had to prove, not the kind that came with cameras and expectations.
Just… them.
Tle pressed a light kiss near FirstOne’s ear, familiar and unhurried and FirstOne felt like he could just melt right then and there.
And he knew.
He knew that no matter how loud everything got, no matter how much the outside tried to pull at them, they had the same ending every time.
They came back.
To each other.