Archive of Our Own

Teetee Wanpichit is the definition of a loser.

No, no, not the Oxford-dictionary kind of “loser,” and certainly not someone who fails at everything he does. Academically he is a genius, brilliance radiated through him. However, genius might be a shallow term considering the amount of effort and hours he spent into his studies with dedication and passion. He was the kind of student teachers held up as the gold standard; the kind parents urge their kids to be like. An inspiration to more than a few.

He had loving parents who were always supportive of his decisions. He had good friends too. He was blessed and luckiest when it came to such things except one: 

His love life.

His love life or love in general—even dates or crushes— it was a complete disaster. Like, quite literally the most pathetic loser you’ll ever meet. He had the worst luck imaginable—or at least, that’s what he told himself. Whatever deity or cosmic force is supposed to be in charge of love clearly skipped over him.

In simple layman terms, he was always the one getting stood up. Sometimes people show up just to say they've met someone else, and other times, they don’t bother to appear at all. Coming to his confessions, they were the peak of embarrassment. Oscar-worthy cringe, thanks to his cursed Samsung and its traitorous autocorrect that turns heartfelt messages into humiliating messes. More often than not, they ended with him getting blocked.

And if it's not his phone betraying him, it was his own awkwardness ruining things before they even start. 

All these countless examples specifically pointed towards one thing: Teetee Wanpichit was truly an unlucky fella in the matter of love. He might have aced every exam with straight A’s and S’s, but when it came to scoring a boyfriend? 

It was a big bold ‘F’; F for failure.

He was in his second year at the Bangkok University, pursuing a degree in Geoscience. He is a smart, talented, good looking lad from Chiang Mai who came to Bangkok for his higher studies. He had two close friends: Kongjiro—the logical one, often done with his best friend's endless whining—who majors in Economics; and Firstone Wannakorn, or as their circle affectionately calls him, First— majoring in arts and spending his time in creating wonderful art in his sketchbooks.

Firstone absolutely loathed Geoscience. He never missed an opportunity to express his distaste for the subject, especially whenever Teetee tried to share environmental trivia or explain geological processes. The three met during first year of university because of shared classes. Since then, they had been inseparable. 

“I want a lover too! Why am I still single?! Why is my luck so rotten when it comes to love?!” Teetee lamented dramatically, dropping his head onto the table with a pout, radiating distress like a forlorn puppy. His eyes were locked onto the couple a few tables ahead—The guy lovingly feeding a spoonful from his plate and his partner shyly returning the gesture.

Firstone, who was scrolling through his mobile phone for art inspirations or references for a new art project that was due later in that evening—not the whole painting but the topic or the gist of the painting he will be doing—quietly locked his phone with a small sigh and turned to face his best friend with a disapproving glance. The said friend was kicking his feet under the table like a stubborn child.

Kong, seated across from them, adjusted his glasses and slammed his book shut and placed it on the table. It was likely some classic novel. He was into that sort of thing, at least when university wasn’t completely draining the life out of him.

“Teetee, I swear to God, if you don’t shut up with your ‘lover’ agenda, all hell’s gonna break loose!” Firstone snapped, shooting Teetee a sharp glare.

Teetee, unbothered, glared right back just as fiercely.

“And boy, it’s not like you’re the only single person in our friend group,” Kong chimed in, clearly fed up with Teetee’s endless whining. “We’re both single too. You act like it’s the end of the world.”

“Well, it’s not like you two have even tried!” Teetee shot back, sitting up straighter and pressing his palm firmly onto the table. “I’m pretty sure if you guys made an effort, you’d both end up with lovers! But it’s different for me, okay? You guys know how miserable my love life has been!”

His eyes reflected a mix of frustration, bitterness, and the faintest flicker of sadness. His shoulders slumped a little under the weight of his own despair.

“I want to experience love too…” he murmured, voice softening, barely above a whisper by the end. “I don’t want to stay in the background or on the sidelines, just watching everyone else fall in love while I sit here mourning my misfortune…”

Firstone and Kong exchanged a glance and sighed in unison. They both knew how hopelessly romantic Teetee was—how deeply he longed for love, how he yearned to feel what others did. And how his luck seemed to have it the worst for him out there.

They didn’t believe that luck was the reason—not at all. But not like his friend would even get convinced with their speeches otherwise.

Firstone gently took Teetee’s left hand and ran his thumb softly over the knuckles. “Teetee bub, you and I both know it’s not your fault that people kept leaving, or that things went wrong out of nowhere. Maybe your love is still out there somewhere, you know? You just have to wait a little longer.”

Teetee felt frustration spark in his chest. He pulled his hand back, lips pressing into a thin, tight line. He was sick of hearing that phrase: “You just have to wait a little longer.” Hadn’t he waited long enough already?

“Wait until I grow old and gray? Wait until you two get married to your lovers? Wait until I die?” Teetee’s voice rose, tinged with anger and hurt he could no longer hold back.

Firstone sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation—clearly not in the mood for Teetee’s dramatics. “You know I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Then what did you mean?!” Teetee snapped, eyes narrowing, head tilting slightly in challenge.

“You see,” Kong cut in, deadpan. “I wasn’t going to bring this up because I don’t usually believe in stuff like this, but I can’t take any more of your pitiful whining, bestie.” He placed his phone onto the table, screen lighting up with a web page.

Teetee turned to face him, brow arched. “What are you trying to say, Kong?”

Firstone leaned forward, curiosity piqued, as his gaze followed the screen.

The bold title read: “Find Your Love.”

“I’m saying,” Kong explained, scrolling down to the registration link pointing—hovering his index finger over the link button, “you can sign up for this annual university event. It says it’s supposed to match you with someone compatible. Maybe you end up with a lover, maybe a friend. Who knows? But it’s worth a shot.”

“But you know…” Firstone said cautiously, well aware of how disastrous Teetee’s love life had been.

“That’s the catch,” Kong replied, crossing his arms and leaning forward, eyes locked with Teetee’s. “This program guarantees a 100% success rate. According to them, it hasn’t failed anyone in all the years they’ve hosted the event.”

“How come I just heard about this now?” Teetee deadpanned, his gaze flicking between Firstone and Kong.

“Because you’re always holed up in the library, buried under a mountain of Geoscience books,” Firstone muttered with an eye roll—only to receive a sharp smack on the arm from Teetee.

“So, Teetee,” Kong said with a subtle smirk, raising both eyebrows as if daring him, “are you ready to test your luck and find your love?”

“It sounds fun. But…I don’t want to do it alone!” Teetee exclaimed, his voice dropping as he looked at them with the most exaggerated puppy-dog eyes. “Can’t you guys join me? Please?”

His gaze bounced between Firstone and Kong, practically begging for them to agree.

“Teetee, it’s just an event—” Kong began to reason, but his sentence was quickly cut off.

“Please! I’ll treat you guys to anything!” Teetee clasped his hands together in front of him, eyes wide with hope. He kept repeating the word please, trying to coax them into agreeing.

Kong rolled his eyes in defeat and let out a grunt. “Fine. I’ll join you. But you better treat me to something good,” he warned, throwing a pointed look at Teetee. 

Teetee beamed and nodded eagerly in response, then turned to Firstone with expectant eyes.

Firstone gave an awkward smile and held up his phone to show his class schedule. “I have a project submission and class at the exact same time… I’m really sorry.”

Teetee puffed out his cheeks in a pout before exhaling through his nose. “Uh Uh, I get it—but make sure you join us for the treat.”

“Yeah, sure!” Firstone chuckled as Teetee and Kong picked up their phones to register for the Find Your Love event.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The open space buzzed with energy, filled with audience and participants alike. The air vibrated with excitement as groups gossiped and speculated about the potential pairs looking at the contestants lined up. 

“Find Your Love”—an annual event organized by the Bangkok University Student Council—was born twelve years ago after receiving harsh criticism from students claiming that the council was boring and only hosted dull, static events. Offended and determined to prove them wrong, the then-student president took matters into their own hands and launched what many initially called an overrated, doomed-to-flop idea. 

Ironically, it turned out to be a massive success.

Since then, it had become a tradition, held at the beginning of every academic year. The process was simple: interested participants filled out a registration form via a link posted on the university’s official event website. Five minutes before the event kicked off, a random number would be emailed to each registrant. During the event, the hosts would draw number lots from a transparent fishbowl, and each matched pair would be called up on stage to introduce themselves. From that point on, it was entirely up to the pair whether they wanted to keep in touch, become friends—or maybe even start dating. The choice lay solely with them. The event only served as a base for those interested.

Teetee and Kong stood off to one side, waiting anxiously for their numbers to drop into their inboxes. Around them, eager participants bounced on their heels, excited to discover their potential match in what was famously called the “luckiest and most successful event” at Bangkok University.

“Alright, participants! It’s time to check your emails—the numbers have been sent!” the female host, Punch—clad in a beautiful shimmering gown— announced, sweeping her gaze across the sea of attendees. Her voice crackled through the microphone with enthusiasm and excitement, carrying a tiny smile on her face.

Beside her stood her co-host, Est Supha, dressed in a sharp suit, equally animated and ready to deliver an unforgettable evening. In front of them—a few steps away— sat a fishbowl filled with colorful number lots, resting on a pastel pink cuboid stand.

A cacophony of dings echoed in the open space, indicating the emails were dropped.

Kong and Teetee quickly opened their emails to check the numbers they had been assigned. Upon seeing it themselves, they raised their phones and shoved them into each other’s faces to compare.

“I got 38!” Teetee exclaimed, his feet bouncing slightly on the ground.

“43,” Kong replied flatly, rolling his eyes, clearly showing his disinterest in this show.

“What if we get paired with each other?” Teetee asked out of nowhere, a sudden seriousness creeping into his voice as he seemed lost in thought.

Kong crinkled his nose in disgust.  “Oh my goodness, Teetee. Don’t even joke about that. If that happens, I swear I’ll drown you in the nearest river or sea—and I’m not even kidding.” He shot Teetee a wide, disapproving look.

“Hey! What’s wrong with getting paired with me?” Teetee shot back, clearly offended. “I’ve got a great body and an even greater mind! You should be honored to be matched with me! But you’re right—” he paused, scanning Kong up and down and sighing dramatically, “—I’m looking for a lovers. And you don’t pass the bars. So, I will pass.”

He turned his attention toward the stage, eyes sparkling with renewed excitement. “I wonder who I’ll get paired with!”

Kong let out a slow exhale through his nose, as he glared at Teetee that screamed I’m trying very hard not to commit a murder in broad daylight. Just then, a voice from the stage pulled their focus back.

“Hello and welcome, everyone, to the annual matchmaking event sponsored by the Student Council Committee of Bangkok University!” Est beamed as he spoke into the mic.

“Contestants, are you excited to meet your match?” Punch stepped forward, extending the mic toward the crowd in anticipation.

A loud chorus of “YES!” erupted, echoing through the speakers.

“Excited, eh?” Punch laughed, eyes twinkling. “Audience, are we excited to see the pairs for this year’s event?! Can we make some noise?” She leaned in toward the crowd, as if waiting to hear them whisper directly into her mic.

“YES!!” The entire area roared with hoots, claps, and cheers—buzzing with anticipation.

“Let’s Find Your Love, shall we?” both hosts chimed in unison, their voices mimicking anime characters as they moved to stand directly in front of the fish bowl filled with colorful lots.

“The instructions are pretty clear,” Punch announced brightly, taking a step closer to the fishbowl. “We, the hosts, will randomly pick out two lots from the bowl and announce the numbers publicly. The participants with those numbers will come up on stage, exchange greetings and introductions, and then step down.”

“You can leave anonymous feedback on the event later through the ‘Find Your Love’ website,” Est added with a grin, prompting another round of applause from the crowd.

The host pair each picked out a folded slip from the bowl, carefully opening them and raising them for the audience to see.

“First pair of this event! Number 14 and Number 20, please come up on stage!” they announced in sync, their smiles wide and enthusiastic.

Cheers erupted as two figures stepped onto the stage, the crowd buzzing with anticipation.

“Please introduce yourselves to each other,” one host said, handing each of them a mic.

“Uh, hello… my name is…”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

And just like that, the event went on. Time passed as number after number was called. People introduced themselves, laughed, shook hands, and stepped off the stage—some already chatting animatedly with their new matches.

Teetee and Kong stood to the side, waiting.

“Next one!” Punch chirped, her energy never dying down.

“Number 43 and 16! Please come forward!” she grinned, practically bouncing on her heels.

Teetee’s eyes lit up, and he beamed as he turned to his friend. “That’s you!” he exclaimed, shoving Kong forward with both hands. “Go, go!”

Kong groaned, dragging his feet toward the stage like a man headed for execution. “I better get treated to good food after this…” he muttered under his breath.

But the second he stepped on stage and saw the person standing across from him… Kong forgot how to breathe.

The man before him looked like he’d been carved straight from marble—no, something even more divine. A Greek god in the flesh. A painting come to life. A walking masterpiece. That even MonaLisa should be scared of his beauty. Even Apollo should be envious of his face.

His mouth parted slightly in awe as he tried to process the sight. The man met his gaze and gave him a soft smile, accompanied by a slight bow.

Kong stood frozen in place, mentally kicking himself for wearing his old sneakers today.

Punch cleared her throat, clearly amused by the way Kong was completely entranced. “Ahem. Please introduce yourselves.”

Kong blinked, snapping out of his trance. He straightened his posture and tried to sound as natural as possible.

“Uh… hello. I’m Kongjiro, 21 years old, Economics major. I like reading classic literature. Nice to meet you.”

The man in front of him nodded, following suit with a calm, confident smile.

“Hello, Kong. I’m Thomas Teetut from the Theatrical Department. 24 years old. I’m good at gardening and sketching. Pleased to meet you.” He extended his hand for a handshake.

Kong reached out and shook his hand with a small nod, avoiding eye contact like his life depended on it.

“You’re cute, by the way,” Thomas added with a small smirk.

The crowd lost it. Cheers, squeals, and whistles echoed through the space at the unexpectedly adorable moment.

“Whoa!” Est laughed into the mic. “That might be the best crowd reaction we’ve had tonight.”

“Yep,” Punch chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows mischievously. “You two better be ready to get shipped on the university forums. I can see it already happening.”

Kong tried—and failed—to suppress a smile as he and Thomas stepped off the stage, still holding hands.

From the crowd, Teetee watched with a huge grin on his face. He was this close to shouting out a cheesy congratulation… but seeing the way the two looked at each other, he decided to save the teasing for later.

The show carried on again, number after number being called, pairs stepping onto the stage amid applause and laughter. Then, finally, came the moment Teetee had been waiting for.

The hosts each picked a folded lot from the glass bowl—one yellow, one blue.

“Number 38 and Number 62, please come forward,” Est announced.

Teetee’s heart jumped. He recognized his number immediately.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, legs moving almost faster than his brain could process. At this point, he didn’t care whether he was paired with a guy or a girl or someone who doesn't belong to either gender. All he wanted was a taste of something that had always felt just out of reach—love.

As he climbed onto the stage, he clutched his phone tightly, trying to ground himself. The flannel shirt he wore suddenly felt suffocating despite the cool breeze brushing past. His loose jeans suddenly felt uncomfortable as nervous energy thrummed through his body.

He stood in the center of the stage, scanning the crowd, waiting for Number 62.

“Number 62,” Punch repeated into the mic, a little louder now, “please make your way to the stage.”

Heads turned in every direction. Teetee's eyes darted from person to person, searching for movement, for someone—anyone—stepping forward. But no one did.

Seconds stretched. A full minute passed.

Still, no one came.

The hosts exchanged uncertain glances, their smiles faltering slightly. In all twelve years of the event’s history, this had never happened.

And on that stage, under the lights and the collective gaze of strangers, Teetee felt the familiar sting of disappointment swell inside him.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He had finally dared to hope that tonight would be different. That life would hand him something which always seemed far away. But instead, all he got was empty air where a partner should’ve stood.

Why did I even hope?...

He bowed his head slightly, the colors of the world fading at the edges of his vision.

I should’ve known better than to expect something extraordinary... especially with my kind of luck.

Noticing the shift in atmosphere and the disappointment radiating from the lone figure on stage, Punch quickly racked her brain for a way to salvage the moment.

Then, with an exaggerated gasp, she lifted her mic. “Oh no! Could it be… have we found our lucky contestant of the year?!”

Est turned to her, one brow arched in confusion at her sudden theatrics. He tilted his head a little as if asking, What are you doing?

She gave him a pointed look before tilting her head toward the boy on stage who still had his head hung low. Then, she continued, “Remember? We mentioned the possibility of one special participant being so unique they’d be paired with themselves and win the exclusive Kuromi merchandise?”

Ah. Est’s eyes lit up as he caught on to her quick save. With a laugh that rang just a little too loud, he clapped his hands and leaned into his mic.

“Well, folks! Looks like we have our lucky winner of the night! Give it up for contestant number 38!” he said, his voice enthusiastic as the crowd responded with polite applause—some clapping with awkward glances, others murmuring behind their hands.

Punch reached behind the stand and brought out a vibrant gift hamper (which was for her cousin's birthday, deciding she'll get something else for her), handing it over to Teetee with a wide smile. “Congratulations on being our special winner tonight! Enjoy your Kuromi goodies!” as she subtly ushered the person towards the end of the stage to save him from further humiliation.

Teetee forced a small nod and robotically accepted the hamper. He absolutely loved Kuromi merch but at this moment it didn't seem to do its trick. Without saying a word, he stepped off the stage holding the hamper close to his chest, his expression blank, the cheers behind him sounding far away—muffled and meaningless.

Teetee approached Kong, trying to force a smile on his lips.

“Teetee…” Kong said softly, concern lacing his voice.

Teetee shook his head and sighed. “Please, not now, Kong. I’m heading to the library to cool off,” he murmured, offering a small pat on his friend’s shoulder.

“I can come with you,” Kong offered without hesitation.

But Teetee’s brow lifted slightly as his eyes flicked past him—Thomas was standing a short distance away, clearly waiting.

“Don’t you guys have plans or something?” Teetee asked, confusion knitting his features. “Or… did he not match your type?”

Kong gave a small shake of his head. “No… he asked me out for a friendly date.”

Teetee tilted his head. “Then why are you still here?”

Kong hesitated, eyes dropping to the ground. “You are…”

He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. All he knew was that it felt wrong to leave his best friend like this—alone and empty-handed.

Teetee caught the sentiment immediately and gave him a sharp look. “Stop that,” he said firmly. “I am fine. I just need some space, okay? You should go. He seems genuinely into you.”

“But… will you really be okay?” Kong’s voice dropped, guilt curling in his chest.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Teetee adjusted the gift hamper in his arms, cradling it like a child. “Either you go right now or I’ll steal your date and go out with him myself,” he said, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips.

Kong let out a grumble, but he couldn’t hide his smile. He gave Teetee a quick hug, patting his back gently before stepping away. “I’ll see you later at the dorm,” he said over his shoulder as he jogged toward Thomas.

Teetee watched them go, his smile lingering only for a second. When the crowd swallowed them up, he let out a long, quiet breath and turned away, making his way toward his sanctuary: the library.

“Guess it’s another date with my favorite geoscience books,” he muttered to himself as dark clouds began to gather overhead.

Inside the library, Teetee made his way to his favourite spot—a corner seat tucked beside the tall windows hidden behind the shelves. Dropping the hamper beside him, he placed his bag on the table. The spot was his sacred haven. He pulled out a thick hardcover book from one of the shelves and placed it gently on the table. The title glared back at him: Plate Tectonics, Earthquakes, and Volcanoes.

He flipped through the pages quickly, fingers brushing over decades of knowledge and dust. The first chapter lay open, but the words didn’t register. His mind was still replaying the events from before.

The awkward silence. The uncertain glances between the hosts. The way the crowd whispered like a wave breaking behind his back. The empty space where his partner should’ve stood.

He should’ve expected this. The one person whose pair didn’t even bother showing up. Teetee could already picture the chatter across campus forums and group chats: the poor guy who got left standing on stage, clutching a consolation gift while the whole university watched.

Usually, he’d laugh it off—shrug, joke, brush it under the rug like everything else. But today… he didn’t feel like laughing. And strangely, he didn’t feel like crying either.

With a quiet sigh, Teetee shifted his gaze toward the window. Rain had started to fall. Droplets tapped gently against the glass, clouding it with fog. The sky outside had turned an inky gray, daylight swallowed whole by the thick clouds that hovered low and heavy. Not a trace of sunlight made it through.

Even nature’s pitying me, he thought, lips curling into the faintest, self-deprecating smile. It was almost poetic. The skies were weeping in his place. The soft mist coating the windows mirrored the thick muddy thoughts pulling him down.

His tired eyes drifted back to the book in front of him, still unopened at the first chapter. The first chapter delved into volcanoes—their causes, triggers, aftermaths, classifications, and global locations. Teetee traced his finger absentmindedly along the yellowing pages, eyes skimming past diagrams of magma chambers and tectonic shifts.

“Even volcanoes get more action than me,” he muttered, lips twisting in annoyance.

The sting of being the only one unmatched at the event hadn’t faded. In fact, the sadness was slowly curdling into something hotter, more volatile. Like lava pooling beneath the surface.

“What an irresponsible asshole… Leaving a cute and hot guy like me abandoned like that!” His voice was low, sharp with frustration. The humiliation bubbled inside his stomach, hardening into resentment.

“If I see him on the streets, I’ll kick his ass,” he hissed under his breath, flipping the page with more force than necessary. The paper crinkled beneath his fingers as he dove back into the topic, pretending to focus.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Three hours passed. 

Then finally, “Done!” He announced to no one in particular. He shut the book with a satisfying thud and stretched his arms overhead like a lazy cat waking from a nap, a few bones popping in protest.

A soft yawn escaped him as his gaze drifted back toward the window.

The storm had passed. Rainwater still dripped from the leaves, splashing into muddy puddles. Dewdrops clung to the windowpane, glimmering faintly in the twilight. The sky, now washed clean, wore a calm blue-grey cloak.

Teetee glanced at his watch. 5:30 p.m.

“I studied for too long,” he mumbled, cracking his neck with a grunt.

Packing the hamper into the bag, he decided it's time to leave.

Scooping up the thick book and his bag, he approached the front desk, signed the registry, and handed the book to the librarian with a nod. Then, with a sigh, he stepped outside.

The matchmaking event had a 100% success rate, they’d said. Teetee scoffed to himself.

He should be appointed as the test subject to such dating sites or apps. He would be the perfect anomaly. 

“Maybe I should just accept that I’m never—” His words died in his throat.

His gaze had landed on a figure just a few feet away, crouched on the stone-paved path that cut through a row of trees. The dim light filtered through the branches, casting soft shadows across the ground, but nothing—not the breeze, not the puddles—could pull his attention away from what he was seeing.

“Or maybe not…” Teetee muttered to himself.

The guy knelt beside a stray corgi, gently stroking its fur. He wore a  violet checkered flannel shirt, faded blue jeans, and clean white sneakers. His fingers worked delicately, offering food in a plastic bowl, scratching behind the puppy’s ears, and cooing softly with a voice Teetee could almost hear from a distance.

But that wasn’t what stopped Teetee in his tracks.

The guy was insanely attractive. Devastatingly, heart-stoppingly handsome.

Teetee’s pulse quickened, thudding against his ribcage with a force he hadn't felt in a long time.

The guy’s hair was inky dark—nearly black—and styled in a way that looked naturally straight, bangs falling over his forehead, like he’d run a hand through it while rushing over. It fell just above his brows, casting gentle shadows over his cheekbones and perfectly framing his face. But it was the eyes that held Teetee captive.

Dark brown. Deep. Pulling. His eyes held the same golden warmth as honey gathered by bees at the dawn of spring. It felt as though gravity itself had settled within them, drawing Teetee in without a single word. There was a sparkle there that made Teetee's chest feel tight, like he was seconds away from catching a crush he hadn’t asked for.

His features were a canvas of soft yet strong strokes—high, soft cheekbones, a gentle jawline that was strong but not sharp. And that smile… God, that smile.

Wide and warm, a flawless row of teeth on full display as he booped the puppy’s nose, laughing quietly when the pup nudged him back. It was the kind of smile that melted the air around it. The kind that showed his gums, reached his eyes making it disappear and turned them into little crescents. The kind that made strangers want to smile in return.

The kind that made Teetee’s stomach do somersaults right now.

And just like that, Teetee felt it.

An overwhelming urge to know him.

Not just to admire him from a distance, not just to wonder who he might be—but to know him. His name. His favorite color. Whether he liked cats or dogs or both. Whether he was single or already taken. Whether he liked Spring or Winter. Everything.

Once again, his body moved before his brain could catch up. His feet carried him toward the boy like they had a will of their own.

Fuck that person, Teetee thought with sudden clarity. I just found someone way better than that anyway.

He strode forward with determination, zeroing in on the guy who was still blissfully unaware of Teetee’s presence, too occupied with the puppy to notice anything else.

But Teetee really should’ve been paying attention to where he was going—because—

Smack.

His foot caught on a half-buried stone sticking out of the path, and the next thing he knew, gravity yanked him down like it had been waiting for the perfect moment to humiliate him.

He landed face-first in a shallow, grimy puddle. The splash echoed across the pathway loud enough to startle both the stray corgi and the attractive boy beside it.

The guy’s head snapped up in alarm. His eyes widened when he spotted a stranger sprawled face-down in the muddy water, soaked to the bone. Teetee's flannel shirt clung to him like a wet rag, his hair dripping water down his cheeks.

Teetee could feel the embarrassment creep in. He wanted to crawl into a hole or better vanish into thin air right now.

How could he successfully manage to embarrass himself in front of a handsomely attractive gorgeous boy. 

There goes my shot hitting on this person… He mentally whines. 

Instead of hitting on the guy he’d hit the ground. Couldn’t he be more careful while walking?!

With a quiet groan, Teetee slowly lifted his head, feeling the sting of scraped skin burning along his elbow. His nose scrunched in disgust as he pulled himself up on shaky arms. Wet strands of hair stuck to his forehead, water dripping down like tears, and a visible pout curled his lips as he sat back on his heels—like a thoroughly drenched and deeply offended puppy. Like the corgi the guy was playing, albeit sad version of it.

The insanely attractive guy couldn’t hold it in.

The second he looked at Teetee—soaked, scrunched up in outrage, hair plastered to his forehead like a soggy noodle—he let out a full-blown laugh. He threw back his head as if he witnessed the funniest creature in the world. It rumbled from deep within his chest and lit up his whole face.

Meanwhile, the corgi threw the two humans a bored glance before returning to his food, clearly unfazed by the unfolding chaos.

Teetee stared in pure disbelief. His eyes widened, lips parted in a mixture of shock and indignation. He tilted his head slightly, squinting as if trying to process the audacity of this guy laughing at him.

“Are you seriously laughing at someone who just fell into a puddle instead of helping them?!” he barked, hands planted firmly on his hips, his cheeks still flushed with embarrassment and rapidly bubbling anger.

The gorgeous stranger just shook his head, still caught in his fit of laughter, trying—and failing—to rein it in. He bent slightly, hands on his knees for balance as he looked up at Teetee again.

That was his mistake.

Because the second he met Teetee’s furious, pouty face, with those wide almond-shaped eyes glaring up at him and his soaked clothes clinging like a grumpy husky who’d just been thrown into a washing machine—he burst into another round of laughter, even louder than the last.

Teetee’s jaw dropped in offense. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly speechless. It was getting harder to tell if he was going to scream or stomp his foot like a cartoon character.

“HEY!” he finally shouted, his voice ringing through the empty path. Thankfully, there were no witnesses around to see him play out this tragicomedy of a meet-cute.

The guy finally raised his hands in mock surrender, biting his lower lip to stifle the grin still tugging at his mouth.

Teetee was pouting now—big time—and the stranger couldn’t help but notice how those eyes sparkled even when angry. He looked so ridiculously adorable standing there soaked and grumpy that the guy had to physically stop himself from reaching out to ruffle his hair or scratch behind his ear like he did with the puppy.

Because, honestly?

He looked exactly like one.

A tiny, wet, offended puppy.

And he’d never seen anything cuter.

Noticing that Teetee’s glare wasn’t softening anytime soon, the attractive guy finally sobered up. A lopsided smile tugged at his lips as he reached into his back pocket and retrieved a neatly folded handkerchief.

Without a word, he stepped closer. Slowly. Carefully.

Then, with surprising gentleness, he reached out and began wiping the dirty water off Teetee’s face.

Teetee blinked.

The touch startled him—not because it was sudden, but because it was tender. His first instinct was to pull away, but the stranger’s fingertips were warm and his touch so careful, almost like feather-soft, that Teetee found himself frozen. Held still by something other than physical contact.

And now, up close, Teetee could finally have a deeper look at his face.

He noticed the subtle details he’d missed before: those dumpling-like soft cheeks that puffed up when the boy laughed. So soft cheeks. Ridiculously soft cheeks. He had to stop himself from pinching them. The soft plush of his lips, their perfect curve and color. The slight bump in the bridge of his nose that somehow made it even more attractive. The way his hair moved ever so slightly every time he shifted. How his tongue peeked out to swipe at the corner of his mouth, trying to clear away a smudge of mud from Teetee’s cheek.

It made Teetee want to lean in and press a kiss to every inch of his face—to map the beauty with his lips, to trace those lines with his fingertips.

God, why was he so unfairly, ridiculously attractive?

The stranger, on the other hand, was equally lost in his own observation.

As he pushed back the wet strands of hair from Teetee’s forehead, something caught his eye—those feline-like eyes that blinked so slow that made the guy skip a beat. His gaze trailed downward, along the delicate slope of Teetee’s nose. His fingers moved almost instinctively, dabbing at droplets, trailing lower.

His eyes followed. The gaze shifted towards his cheeks. Twin moles on either of cheeks like a constellation he stumbled on the sky one day. He hadn't noticed that before.

It was mesmerizing. 

And finally, his eyes dropped to Teetee’s lips.

Pink. Plush. Slightly parted in surprise.

I wonder what they feel like to kiss… the thought slipped into his mind before he could stop it.

His breath caught.

No no no

He abruptly stepped back, retreating just enough to break the spell forming between them.

“Happy now?” he asked, flashing a crooked grin.

Teetee, still very much pouting like a drenched, sulky puppy, looked up at him with a mix of confusion, embarrassment.

He was caught between two wildly different impulses:

Should he ask for the guy’s name and maybe his entire biodata, blood type, and skincare routine… or should he just bolt and never show his face again?

He had already face-planted into a dirty puddle. In front of the most attractive guy he’d ever seen.

Surely, one more potential embarrassment wouldn’t tip the scale. The damage was already done.

So, mustering every ounce of courage left in his rain-drenched body, he straightened his spine and opened his mouth.

“Umm, I—”

CRACK.

A loud thunderclap shattered the moment like glass.

The sky lit up, clouds colliding with violent fury. And then—

The rain returned. First a single drop. Then a whole ass shower. A monsoon-level downpour exploded from above like the universe had something personal against Teetee.

The stranger jumped to his feet, throwing a hand over his head. “Oh shoot!” he shouted, clearly startled.

The corgi, who clearly had better survival instincts than Teetee, had already vanished.

Meanwhile, Teetee stood frozen, blinking through the sudden deluge.

Soaked. Again. For the second time in one day.

He didn’t even bother trying to cover himself this time. The universe had made its opinion on his love life abundantly clear.

Teetee tilted his head back toward the heavens and glared with all he got.

A pout formed on his lips, deep and dramatic.

Really? You couldn't give me just five more seconds?!

His internal voice screamed upward in melodramatic agony: “You are so mean!”

Gods, fate, nature—take your pick. Whatever higher power was watching clearly had a twisted sense of humor.

Teetee groaned. There goes my last shot…

The stranger turned to Teetee, eyes laced with concern despite the rainwater streaming down his face.

“Hey—do you live nearby?” he asked, raising his voice slightly to be heard over the downpour.

Teetee blinked through the sheet of water, rubbing at his eyes with his soaked sleeve before slowly shaking his head.

The rain wasn’t letting up. In fact, it only seemed to be getting heavier by the second.

The stranger’s brow furrowed. “It doesn’t look like this is stopping anytime soon,” he said hurriedly. “Do you want to come to my place? It’s really close—just a few steps from campus.”

Teetee’s suspicion flared immediately. He squinted at the stranger through the rain. “I don’t even know your name!” he shouted, half-exasperated, half-panicked.

The guy gave a sheepish smile, brushing wet strands of hair off his forehead. “Por Suppakarn,” he called out over the rain. “Now you know. So—are you coming?”

He extended his hand toward Teetee without hesitation.

Teetee hesitated. He really shouldn’t go to a stranger’s house. That was basic survival 101. But then again… Firstone wouldn’t be back until 8 p.m., and Kong was off somewhere with his date. The dorm was a whole hour away. And his beloved Kuromi plushie was dangerously close to getting waterlogged inside his bag.

Fuck it.

The words echoed inside his head as he took a deep breath and reached forward, slipping his hand into Por’s.

Por’s answering smile was immediate, warm and reassuring despite the storm. Without another word, he gripped Teetee’s hand—firm, but not forceful—and broke into a run.

They dashed through the rain, weaving through campus paths and narrow alleys. Water splashed around their feet, their soaked clothes clinging to their skin, but all Teetee could feel was the warmth of Por’s hand in his.

It wasn’t too tight. It wasn’t too loose.

It felt just… right.

He glanced down at their joined hands. A part of him wanted to interlace their fingers.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. They had only just met. Not even an hour ago.

Still, the idea lingered like a blush beneath his skin as they ran together into the rain.

In less than two minutes, they arrived in front of a cozy two-story house nestled between trees and iron fencing. Rain continued to pour, making everything hazy, the streetlights casting a warm glow that refracted through the fogged air. Teetee squinted, but the sheets of rain distorted his view.

Por gently tugged him through the gate and under the tiny awning that shielded the front door. Letting go of Teetee’s hand, Por pulled out a set of keys and punched in a code. The door unlocked with a soft click.

Without hesitation, Por took Teetee’s hand again—like it was second nature—and led him inside.

The sensor light flickered on above them as they stepped into the entranceway, casting a soft golden hue across the walls and wood-paneled floor.

“Take off your shoes,” Por said quietly, already toeing off his soaked sneakers beside the shelf.

Teetee nodded and leaned down to do the same, but a sharp hiss escaped his lips. Pain radiated from his lower back—the aftermath of his earlier fall into the puddle finally catching up to him.

Por turned instantly, concern overtaking his expression. “You okay?” he asked, brows knitting together. Teetee looked like he was struggling to bend fully.

Without waiting for a response, Por knelt down in front of him.

A small chuckle escaped his lips as he looked up through damp lashes. “What were you even thinking about that you didn’t notice the massive stone sticking out of the ground, huh?”

Teetee’s ears flushed red. “It was a one-time thing,” he muttered, glaring down at Por, which only made Por snort in amusement.

Carefully, Por untied the laces of Teetee’s sneakers. Wrapping his fingers around Teetee’s ankle, he lifted them up, and he slipped off the shoes. He did the same with the other, placing the wet sneakers beside his own. 

Then Por stood, offering a crooked smile that was somehow both infuriating and heart-flipping. “Take the stairs—first room on the right. There’s a shower if you want one, and the closet’s got clothes. Grab whatever fits.”

He jogged off toward the guest room, leaving a trail of water droplets in his wake.

Teetee remained at the entryway for a moment, just staring at the space Por had disappeared into. Slowly, his gaze dropped to his socked feet. Despite the rain, the fall, and the ridiculous embarrassment of the day, here he was—standing inside a stranger’s house. Not just any stranger. That stranger. The charming, unfairly attractive one who helped him without hesitation and treated him like he was a royalty.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Maybe… his luck in love was still there, flickering.

Teetee quickly ascended the stairs, water still dripping from the ends of his hair. He stepped into the room Por had mentioned and switched on the lights, revealing a clean, minimal space with soft beige walls and a bed that looked too neat to be regularly used. Without wasting time, he headed straight to the closet and pulled out a black oversized sweatshirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. The clothes were folded with care.

Clutching them in his arms, Teetee walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out, his hair damp but towel-dried, his skin tingling from the hot shower. He had tossed his soaked clothes into the bathroom bin, letting them go like the mess of the day that came with them.

Now wrapped in Por’s clothes, he felt warmer.

The clothes being oversized fit him just right. Like it was meant for him. 

He tugged at the hem of the hoodie and brought it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. Sandalwood. Baby powder. Vanilla. A whisper of cinnamon, maybe apples too. The scent was soothing, strong yet gentle but there was something intoxicating about it, something that made his head swim slightly.

So this is how Por smells...

He pressed his nose into the soft fabric again, holding it there for a moment longer than necessary. The scent was far too good—so warm and comforting it felt close to home. Like he was on some vacation. He imagined for a second what it might be like to hug Por from behind, to bury his face in the curve of his neck, to get lost in that scent not from borrowed clothes but from the man himself. However, that was a dream that seemed far too impossible. So, he had to settle with this.

He sighed, releasing the hem of the hoodie and letting it fall back into place against his stomach.

A familiar chime echoed in the quiet room.

Ding.

Teetee glanced over at the nightstand. His phone screen had lit up with a notification. Curious, he padded over and picked it up.

It was an Instagram story from Kong.

The image showed two hands laced together on a café table, fingers interlocked, surrounded by coffee cups and half-eaten pastries. Floating above the hands were two tiny, animated hearts. The caption read: Date went well. He is so silly and cute.

Teetee stared at it.

And smiled.

He really was happy for Kong.

But no matter how hard he tried to hold onto that feeling, something inside him tugged downward. A dull muted ache settled into his chest. While Kong had found someone—on his first try, no less—Teetee couldn’t even meet the person he'd been paired with. His supposed date hadn’t even bothered to show up. And now here he was, in a stranger’s house, wearing borrowed clothes, freshly fallen into a puddle of both water and humiliation.

The smile slowly faded from his lips.

He stood there, head hung low, phone still in hand, his eyes stuck on the glowing image of Kong’s intertwined fingers with someone else’s. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. He just stared, his heart sinking lower and lower.

Por, freshly showered, wearing a loose fitted half-sleeved black t-shirt and elephant pants. His hair was still damp at the ends as he jogged upstairs to check on Teetee. But as he reached the doorway of the room, his steps slowed—then stopped completely.

The door was ajar.

Inside, Teetee stood sideways with his phone in hand, completely unaware of Por’s presence. 

Por’s gaze softened.

The hoodie he’d lent him fit his frame entirely—the sleeves cuffing his wrists that highlighted his soft palms, the hem brushing the middle of his torso. For some reason, in Por’s eyes, Teetee looked impossibly cute in it. Like a huge labrador wrapped in someone else’s warmth.

Too cute.

But Por noticed something else, too.

Teetee’s head was tilted down, his shoulders slightly hunched, and the glow from his phone screen flickered faintly across a blank expression. There was something heavy in his posture.

Por frowned.

What made him so sad...?

The urge to go in and pull Teetee into his arms hit him suddenly, as strong and instinctive as breathing. He wanted to hold him, tell him he was safe, tell him that things would be okay—even if they didn’t know each other well. 

But they were still strangers. He didn’t want to cross a line.

So he settled for something else.

Food. Warm, homemade food always helped.

He raised his knuckles and tapped twice on the doorframe.

Teetee startled, jerking his head up. Their eyes met, and Por gave him a soft smile. The rain still beat heavily against the windows, a steady rhythm of water and wind that made the room feel even quieter in comparison.

“You can stay until the rain lets up,” Por offered gently, his voice warm and inviting. “No rush.”

Teetee blinked at him, lips parting in a moment of hesitation before curling into a small, sheepish smile. He scratched the back of his head. “I… I’m sorry. For troubling you. And for doubting you earlier.”

Por let out a warm chuckle, waving his hand like it was nothing. “It’s fine. Anyone would’ve been suspicious. Some stranger out of nowhere asking you to follow them home? I’d be creeped out too.”

Teetee let out a short laugh, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

“But,” Por added with a soft grin, “just for the record—I’m not that kind of guy.”

That made Teetee smile a little more genuinely this time.

“How’s your scrape on the elbow?” Por questioned. 

“You noticed that?” Teetee was genuinely shocked at his observation.

Por nodded, leaning against the door frame.

“I put on a band-aid.” Teetee responded softly.

“I made some food,” Por said after a beat, turning to leave. “Come down whenever you’re ready.”

His footsteps faded down the stairs, echoing faintly as the house settled back into the hush of rainfall.

Teetee looked after him for a second, his lips still curved in a soft smile.

Gentleman... he thought, heart fluttering faintly in his chest.

Shaking off his thoughts, Teetee stepped out of the room and followed the faint clatter of dishes to the kitchen.

Por was already on the move. A bubbling hot pot sat proudly in the center of the table, steam curling upward in gentle wisps. On one side, a bowl of simmering broth released an intoxicating aroma, while the other side displayed an assortment of thinly sliced meats arranged in neat rows, surrounded by a vibrant array of vegetables. Pickled radish, two plates of white rice, and small side dishes completed the setup.

Two sets of forks, chopsticks, and spoons were placed precisely across from each other.

The scent hit Teetee almost instantly.

His stomach growled, and he instinctively sniffed the air, mouth already watering. The rich, savory aroma of the broth, the freshness of the vegetables, and the faint tang of the pickled radish—all of it made his senses light up. His eyes lit up as he practically rushed to the table, plopping down into the seat with an eager grin.

He rubbed his hands together like he was about to unwrap a long-awaited gift. “This looks so good,” he said, awe in his voice.

Por, who had observed every bit of Teetee’s excitement, couldn’t help but smile—soft, fond, a little smitten. There was something deeply infectious about the way Teetee reacted to food, like a puppy that had just been handed a treat. It warmed something in Por’s chest.

“You always have this much food stocked at home?” Teetee asked as he looked around, eyes drifting from the kitchen counters to the sleek living room and the large TV mounted on the wall. “Also… do you live here alone? This house is huge.”

Por let out a chuckle, setting down the last set of cutlery before joining Teetee at the table. “Nah. I live with a roommate. He’s out for the night—won’t be back until tomorrow morning.”

“Oh,” Teetee replied with a thoughtful nod, lips parting into a small “o” before he turned his attention back to the food.

He picked up his chopsticks, reached for a slice of meat, and dipped it carefully into the bubbling broth. After a moment, he blew on it, then popped it into his mouth. His eyes fluttered shut as he chewed—clearly savoring every bite. The flavor of the broth, warm and deep, spread through him like comfort itself.

“This is really good,” he said between bites, already reaching for the vegetables next. His eating pace quickened with joy, as if each bite made him forget just a little more of the rain outside and the heaviness from earlier.

Por, meanwhile, couldn’t take his eyes off him.

There was something inexplicably endearing about the way Teetee ate—cheeks puffed out with food, eyes slightly rounded in delight every time a new bite hit his tongue. Por’s heart melted just a little more with each passing second. Watching Teetee enjoy his meal so wholeheartedly made Por want to reach over, pinch his cheeks, and if possible, pepper him with kisses if the situation allowed it.

He didn’t even realize how long he’d been staring until Teetee suddenly slowed down, his chopsticks pausing mid-air.

The stare was… intense, but warm. Like Teetee was his sole focus at the moment.

Teetee glanced up from beneath his lashes. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he asked, voice cautious. “Am I eating too much or something…?”

Por blinked, pulled out of his daze, and immediately shook his head with a gentle smile. “No, no—it’s nothing like that. You just looked really happy eating, and... you looked extremely…cute.” He laughed softly, slightly embarrassed by his own honesty.

Leaning forward, he reached for a few tissues and bent toward Teetee. Carefully, he dabbed at the corner of his lips, his fingers grazing just enough to send a faint shiver down Teetee’s spine.

“There was sauce,” Por said, chuckling fondly. “You’re a bit of a messy eater.”

Teetee’s breath caught in his throat. The closeness—the low, amused warmth in Por’s voice, the casual way he closed the distance between them—it made his heart race. This wasn’t the first time someone had done something like this. Kong, Firstone, even a couple of past dates had done the whole “wipe the corner of your mouth” thing.

But this was different.

This time, his heart didn’t just skip—it was burning inside his chest.

He held Por’s gaze, the air between them suddenly thicker, heavier. He swallowed and, surprising even himself, asked, “Is this your way of flirting?”

Por froze, hand still holding the tissue mid-air. His ears turned red before the blush reached his cheeks in full bloom.

It wasn’t often—scratch that, it was never—that someone so directly asked him that. Especially someone as attractive and effortlessly charming as Teetee.

Still, he forced himself to stay cool, to play it off. “Is this how people usually flirt with you, huh?” he teased back, eyebrows raised in mock confidence.

“I asked you first,” Teetee shot back, one brow arched, lips curving just slightly at the edges.

Por exhaled a quiet laugh, his eyes glinting with something playful, something bold. “Alright,” he said, leaning back just a little. “Let’s say I was flirting. The question is… did you fall for my charms?”

Teetee rolled his eyes and turned away dramatically. “Why would I fall for you?!” he scoffed.

But the telltale flush spreading across his cheeks betrayed him completely.

Por caught it, biting back a chuckle as he leaned back in his seat, clearly amused. He picked up a piece of meat, dipped it in the broth, and took a bite before adding with a smirk, “You must have people falling for you left and right, huh?”

The teasing died down when Teetee’s smile faltered. He lowered his gaze and gave a soft shake of his head.

Por’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? No one? You’ve got to be kidding me. You’ve never had a lover? Really?!”

Teetee exhaled slowly and shook his head again. “Nope. Not even one.” He paused for a moment and then continued. “I moved here from Chiang Mai three years ago… but even back there, I was never in a relationship. Hard to believe it, right? With this face and body, I should’ve had someone by now, right?”

Por blinked like a broken bot before stammering, “I—uh—no, I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, yeah, you’re cute—no, wait—hot—wait, no, not what I meant—I mean yes, but also, you seem like a really nice guy—ah, shit—”

Teetee burst into laughter.

He threw his head back from his seat, eyes-crinkled with pure joy. Por could only sit and watch, absolutely enamored. The way Teetee’s whole face lit up as he laughed made something in his chest tighten with some unnamed emotions.

And he’d caused it. The laugh.

When Teetee finally composed himself, he wiped at the corners of his eyes, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s okay,” he said cheekily, “I know I’m hot and pretty. Nothing wrong with admitting facts.”

Por shook his head gently. “You are definitely confident, huh?”

Teetee shrugged with a wink. “When you’ve got it, flaunt it.”

Por laughed, then tilted his head slightly. “Can I ask something, though? What do you think is the reason? Like… why are you still single?”

Teetee’s smile curved into something sly. “So you can shoot your shot?”

Caught completely off guard, Por flushed deep red again. “Ah- No! I just, I was—No! I want—that’s not—”

“I’m kidding,” Teetee said, grinning as he reached for more meat. “And the answer is: miserable luck in love.”

“Luck?” Por echoed, his tone softening with genuine interest.

“Yeah,” Teetee muttered, leaning back in his chair. “It’s always been this way. Like love is this big cosmic joke and I’m the punchline.”

Por tilted his head, listening closely.

“Accidents, mishaps, terrible timing—you name it, I’ve had it. And today’s a prime example.” Teetee’s brows furrowed, his expression pinched in frustration. “I signed up for this matchmaking event. Supposedly foolproof, you know? Guaranteed pairing. No failed matches in years.”

Por’s curiosity visibly perked up. He leaned forward, elbows nudging closer to the table. “So what happened?”

Teetee shot him an incredulous look. “What happened?” he echoed, clearly unimpressed. “Everyone except my match showed up. That person just ditched.”

He crossed his arms in a pouty huff, cheeks puffed out, eyes narrowed like he was mentally kicking that stranger in the shins. “If I ever find that person, I swear I’m launching them straight to Mars. No return ticket.”

Por chuckled. “Well then, it’s their fault. Not your luck’s.”

Teetee glanced at him, intrigued. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Por said, propping his chin on his palm, “he missed out. Big time. You’re funny, cute, hot, and… surprisingly entertaining when you’re angry.” He smirked. “Maybe your luck isn’t bad—it’s just saving you for something better.”

Teetee’s gaze narrowed, unimpressed. “And let me guess… that ‘something better’ is sitting across from me right now?”

Por grinned, totally unfazed. “Hey, I am not bad myself!”

Teetee snorted. “You haven’t even asked for my name yet, and you think you’re smooth?”

That wiped the smugness right off Por’s face. His eyes widened as the blush climbed up his cheeks like wildfire. “Ah—crap—you’re right—I mean, I was just caught up in the moment—I—”

Right on cue, Por’s phone buzzed on the table.

Saved by the bell.

He gave Teetee a sheepish smile and picked up the phone, face still flushed with embarrassment.

Teetee just shook his head, lips tugging upward in something between a smirk and a fond sigh. “This guy…” he muttered under his breath, amused despite himself.

“Au, you’re interrupting—I’ll call you back later!” Por hissed into his phone, trying to end the call quickly.

But Auau, as always, didn’t know when to shut up.

“Bro! I just called to ask how it went with that ‘Find Your Love’ event I registered you for!” he chirped, completely ignoring Por’s urgency.

“‘Find Your Love’? What the hell is that?” Por asked, blinking in confusion.

Across the table, Teetee visibly straightened in his seat, his ears perking up at the familiar name. He subtly leaned forward, trying to listen without being obvious.

“Brother in Christ! I told you I was signing you up for the university matchmaking event! You even said yes! Don’t tell me—wait. You forgot?!” Auau’s indignant voice screeched through the speaker.

Por blinked once. Twice. Then realization dawned. “YOU JERK! You gave me the wrong time, idiot! I got there and it was already over!”

Teetee’s eyes widened, his jaw slowly dropping. No way.

“Hehe… oops? I was kinda… distracted with Save,” Auau mumbled sheepishly.

Por practically growled. “You little—! I swear—ugh, goodbye!” he snapped and hung up before Auau could say another word.

He slammed his phone down on the table, sighing in frustration—only to look up and find Teetee staring directly at him.

Por blinked. “W-What…?”

Teetee’s voice was flat. “The matchmaking event I mentioned earlier… it was called ‘Find Your Love.’”

A long pause. Por stared at him like a deer caught in headlights. “Huh?”

“What number did you get assigned?” Teetee asked, voice clipped.

Por snatched his phone back up, fumbling through his email inbox. “Uh—62…”

“The number I was paired with,” Teetee said slowly, deliberately, “was also 62.”

Por’s blood ran cold. His hands shook as he put the phone down.

“So that means…” Teetee continued ominously.

Before he could finish, Por shot to his feet, knocking the chair over in the process, and bowed in a full 90 degrees.

“Yes! I’m that person who left you on that stage!” he confessed in a rush. “I’m so sorry! You can yell at me, kick me, punch me—whatever you want! I swear I didn’t mean to! Please forgive me!”

He kept his head down, bracing for impact.

But what he got instead was... laughter.

A soft chuckle first, then a warm, genuine laugh.

He cautiously lifted his head. Teetee was watching him with an amused glint in his eyes, lips curved into a teasing smile.

“You’re... not mad?” Por asked carefully.

“How could I be?” Teetee replied, tilting his head. “You fed me good food, gave me warm clothes, let me stay dry, and—well—made my crappy day kind of memorable.” He wiggled his brows. “Even if you were the reason behind said crappy day.”

Por scratched the back of his neck, standing upright with a sheepish grin. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to ditch the event… My friend gave me the wrong time, and, well… I also kinda overslept.”

Teetee hummed and tapped his chin dramatically, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm... What should I do with you?”

Por leaned forward slightly. “What if I take you out for dinner next time… and buy you a plushie of your choice?”

Teetee perked up instantly. “Deal. I forgive you. Let’s pretend none of that ever happened.”

“That was way too easy!” Por exclaimed.

“Who in their right mind declines free food and a plushie?” Teetee shot back smugly.

A beat of silence passed—then both of them burst into laughter, their chuckles overlapping, bouncing off the kitchen walls.

Outside, the rain continued its steady pour, soft and rhythmic, filling the streets and streams—yet inside, the warmth between them was enough to make everything else fade away.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

An hour passed. 

The storm had finally softened into a hush. Now, only the faint trickle of water draining through gutters and the gentle patter of droplets from the trees remained.

Por and Teetee sat side by side on the couch, their knees almost brushing. Laughter came in spurts—awkward, scattered between long silences as they both searched for something else to say. Something that wouldn’t make them sound too eager.

Por glanced out the window and noticed the rain had stopped. He cleared his throat. “Looks like the rain’s over. I’ll drop you home.”

Teetee straightened up and immediately shook his head, hands flailing in protest. “No, no! I’ve already imposed too much. I can just catch a bus—”

“No way,” Por interrupted, shaking his head with a firmness that reminded Teetee of a scolding mom. “It’s late. It’s dark. And your house is too far to walk. I’m not letting you go alone.”

Then he added, with a sly grin, “Plus, you’re way too cute. That’s dangerous.”

Teetee snorted, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “So you do think I’m cute, huh?”

Por clicked his tongue dramatically. “Tsk. Just grab your bag, will you? Or you can stay the night. I wouldn’t mind having a cutie around a little longer.”

His teasing smile widened as he delivered the line.

Flushed and flustered, Teetee scrambled off the couch, practically bolting back to the room, his ears tinged pink.

Behind him, Por’s laughter echoed through the living room—loud, warm, and full of something new.

Por’s car cruised down quiet streets, guided by the soft voice of the navigation app and Teetee’s occasional directions. Inside the car, their banter continued—light teasing, soft laughter filling the space between music and the hum of the engine.

Eventually, the car rolled to a gentle stop in front of a cozy two-story house, not unlike Por’s own.

Teetee slung on his backpack and clutched the paper bag filled with his semi-dried clothes—despite Por’s repeated offers to keep them for him, he had refused to leave anything behind.

Before reaching for the door handle, Teetee paused and turned toward Por with a soft smile. “Thanks for today. I really had fun.”

Por returned the smile and casually held out his phone. “Here.”

Teetee blinked at the screen. “What’s this for?”

“Your number,” Por said, winking with a grin.

Teetee rolled his eyes but laughed, clearly amused. “What are you going to save it as? Cutie? You’re a strange man, you know that? Still haven’t even asked for my name.”

He took the phone and typed in his number before adding, “Name’s Teetee Wanpichit, by the way.”

Then, with a cheeky wink and a dramatic blown kiss, he stepped out of the car—clearly embarrassed by his own antics—and hurried to the front door.

Por sat there, stunned, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. He watched as Teetee reached the doorstep, then turned around to offer one last wave before disappearing inside.

The door closed.

Por slowly slumped forward, his forehead landing on the steering wheel. A soft giggle bubbled up as he kicked his feet lightly in excitement, grinning like a teenager with a crush.

“He’s sooo cute,” he muttered to himself, voice dreamy. “Por Suppakarn, you are falling way too fast.”

Still smiling like a fool, he started the car and drove off into the night, the image of Teetee’s wink burned into his mind.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Two Weeks Later

“That class was so boring. How do you even listen to that crap, bruh?” Firstone groaned dramatically, stretching his arms above his head as he, Kong, and Teetee exited the lecture hall. The trio strolled toward the university cafeteria, legs heavy from the long lecture.

“Maybe if you paid attention to the actual class instead of binge-reading To The Stars and Back, you wouldn’t find it so boring,” Teetee replied dryly, adjusting the strap of his bag as he walked.

Firstone gasped in offense. “Excuse you! That webtoon is a masterpiece. Unlike whatever magma-lava-fire nonsense that bald professor was rambling about.”

Teetee rolled his eyes and subtly glanced at Kong, who had been suspiciously quiet during their bickering. Except—he wasn’t actually quiet. He was giggling softly, eyes glued to his phone screen, a dreamy smile tugging at his lips.

Teetee nudged Firstone and nodded toward Kong. Firstone caught on instantly, and the two of them silently crept behind him, peeking over his shoulder to see what had him so giddy.

On the screen was a photo of Thomas, sent in their chat. He was making a goofy face, lips stretched into a ridiculous whale-like grin. 

Beneath the picture was his caption:

‘How do I look?’

And Kong’s reply:

‘You look so silly but cute, baby.’

Firstone immediately choked on air while Teetee slapped a hand over his own mouth to stop the laugh that threatened to burst out.

“Baby?!” Firstone whisper-yelled. “You’re already at the ‘baby’ phase?!”

Kong jolted, whipping around with wide eyes, cheeks flushing in real-time. “Wha—? You guys were peeking?!”

“Well, you were giggling like a love-struck schoolgirl,” Teetee said, shrugging. “We had to know what level of romance we’re dealing with.”

“Can’t you guys keep it down?!” he hissed, cheeks still red.

“No!” Firstone shot back. “Not until you tell us when you started calling him baby! That’s a milestone!”

Kong crossed his arms and replied casually like it wasn’t a big deal, “The day after our date.”

Both Teetee and Firstone froze like they'd been smacked in the face.

“A day after that friendly dinner?!” Teetee repeated, clearly scandalized.

“Can you please lower your voice, Teetee?! ” Kong muttered, pressing a finger to his temple. “And yes, he liked me, I liked him, we matched each other vibe, so we jumped into it without wasting time.”

“KONGJIRO! That’s too fast!!” Firstone was a bit concerned. He didn’t know his friend was a fast forward type of guy who liked to speed things up and not wait. 

“See, we can get to know each other better while staying close to each other and moreover if things really go downhill or if we decide we can’t move forward with this, we can always break it off.” Kong shrugged, clearly unfazed by what Firstone implied. 

Firstone stared like he was processing an alien language. Teetee just blinked, trying to reboot.

“Anyway,” Kong said quickly, eager to steer them away from a potential debate in the middle of the hallway, “Teetee, weren’t you supposed to introduce us to someone today? You said we’d be meeting someone.”

“Yeah. A friend of mine. He’s waiting at the cafeteria,” Teetee replied, checking the time on his phone. “He’s probably already there. Let’s go.”

With that, he started walking, Kong and Firstone trailing close behind.

“You?” Firstone raised a brow, voice laced with disbelief. “And friend? Don’t make me laugh, babe. Last time I saw you, you were literally talking to a book about your fantasies and not to an actual person.”

His nose scrunched and lips curled like the memory physically pained him.

“That’s rude! I do have social skills, okay?” Teetee snapped, clearly offended.

“Are you sure this ‘friend’ even exists, Teetee?” Kong chimed in, grinning ear to ear. “Sounds a little sus to me.”

“If you two keep this up, I swear I’ll walk away and go meet him on my own!” Teetee gritted out, walking faster.

Firstone and Kong shared a smug look as they followed their grumpy friend toward the cafeteria, thoroughly enjoying every second of teasing him.

They paused at the cafeteria entrance as Teetee’s eyes darted from table to table in search of Por. Just then, a loud voice from the corner called out:

“WanTee! Over here!”

Por stood up slightly, waving an arm above his head like he was hailing a plane. Teetee’s face lit up instantly, waving back with a grin that could rival the sun.

Firstone, witnessing the entire scene unfold, stared at Teetee then back at Por not understanding this progression.

WanTee?

He blinked. And that smile? Why is he smiling like he just won the free money?

He turned to voice his confusion to Kong, only to find his friend completely absorbed in his phone once again, fingers flying as he texted Thomas.

Meanwhile, Teetee had already trotted over to Por’s table like a golden retriever spotting his favorite human, completely forgetting the existence of his own companions.

‘Nevermind. I’ll just journal about this suspicious activity later.’ Firstone thought grimly as he grabbed Kong by the wrist and dragged him along.

At the table, Por wasn’t alone. His friends were gathered around, deeply immersed in their own conversations, none of them noticing the new arrivals hovering nearby.

Por, noticing the awkward standstill, cleared his throat softly.

All heads turned toward him like startled deer.

“Guys, meet my new friend—Teetee Wanpichit,” he said with a smile.

Teetee gave a polite wave to the group, and Firstone gave him the side-eye while Kong was still lost in Thomas’s texts, probably unaware of what planet he was currently on.

Auau opened his mouth, a knowing smirk already forming. He turned to Por.

“That didn’t sound like how you usually introduce a frie—AHHH!” He yelped as Por pinched his arm under the table. Por flashed Auau a tight, devious smile that clearly screamed: shut up or else.

Teetee quietly scanned the group seated around the table.

His eyes first landed on Auau, snuggled close to a short, sweet-looking petite guy with his arm wrapped casually around that guy's waist. Definitely dating, Teetee thought, arching an amused brow.

Next, his gaze drifted to the other side—where a tall guy with warm bronze-blond hair was silently eyeing…Firstone. The scrutiny was obvious. Teetee briefly glanced at Firstone, who either hadn’t noticed or was pretending not to.

Realizing the silence was lingering a bit too long, Teetee cleared his throat.

“Hi, I’m Teetee Wanpichit.” He gestured toward his companions. “This is Kongjiro, and that’s Firstone Wannakorn— or you guys can call him Firstone.”

Save, the sunshine and chatterbox of the group, immediately perked up. “I’m Save! And this is my boyfriend, Auau! Nice to meet you guys. Hope we can be friends too!”

Save raised a hand with a friendly grin. Teetee returned it with a nod.

Kong gave the table a polite glance, offered a brief nod, and promptly went back to his phone. Meanwhile, Firstone opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by the tall blond guy.

“Firestone! Hiii”

Every pair of eyes shifted toward Firstone.

Firstone scowled, crossing his arms. “How many times do I have to tell you—it’s Firstone, Phi.”

Tle ignored the sass, leaning forward to squish Firstone’s cheeks between his palms. “No, you’re a beautiful gemstone called firestone!” He beamed at his own pun.

Firstone whined dramatically, but made no effort to pull away from the warmth engulfing him.

Teetee watched the interaction, eyes narrowing in curiosity. “Wait—where and when did you two even meet? Who's he?”

“I'm Tle Matimun. Nice to meet you” Tle introduced himself with a smile.

“We’re classmates. We share a painting lecture.” Firstone finally broke away, straightening up and smoothing his face.

Tle pouted. “Hey! Don’t reduce me to just a classmate. We’re friends! Introduce me properly next time!”

That response earned a well-placed elbow to his ribs from Firstone. “Ow!”

Before the conversation could spiral, Firstone turned the spotlight back. “Anyway—Teetee, your turn. Spill. How do you know him?”

Save jumped in, resting his chin on Auau’s shoulder as he turned to Por. “Yeah, Phi. Is he from your dance studio?”

Teetee’s head snapped toward Por with interest sparkling in his eyes. “You dance too?”

Por’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “Yeah, I—”

Tle, bursted in before the sentence could be even delivered. “Por is amazing! You should totally see him dance sometime. Firstone, you too!” He gave a thumbs-up with a proud smile.

Firstone simply flicked Tle’s forehead in return.

Then, narrowing his eyes at Teetee, he pressed again. “Tee, stop dodging. How’d you two meet?”

Por and Teetee glanced at each other and then recounted the story—minus the flirty bits—starting from Teetee’s minus aura fall into a muddy puddle to Por eventually driving him home once the rain stopped.

By the end, Firstone was smirking. “So he’s the one who stood you up?” he mused, shooting Por a look.

Auau and Save turned to Por with mock disappointment etched across their faces. “tsk tsk, such a bad move, bestie?” Auau sighed. “We expected better from you,” Save added, shaking his head like a disappointed dad.

Por narrowed his eyes at the couple. “And whose fault do you think that was?” He looked like he wanted to throw something.

Auau shrugged. “You were the one who ditched him, not us.”

“So yeah, definitely your fault,” Save said with a laugh.

Even Teetee chuckled at that, covering his mouth to hide it.

Across the table, Tle hadn’t said a word. He was too busy staring at Firstone. He always did that. Even in the class. Firstone never understood why he stared at him like consuming him through his eyes alone. The gaze could very well be an inferno too. 

Firstone, catching the stare for the fourth time, finally snapped. “Phi Tle! Can you stop staring at me?” His voice betrayed the fact he was slowly turning red.

“I’m staring at my muse. Stay still,” Tle replied, dead serious.

“Muse?”

“Yeah. Remember the solo project? I picked you as my inspiration.”

That earned a wave of “ooohs” and teasing awws from the table.

Red-faced, Firstone threw a sharp glare at Tle who seemed to simply smirk at him. Knowing that Tle would annoy him further if he let's it on, he  looked for an escape and latched onto Kong. “Look at him. So glued to his boyfriend, he probably forgot he’s not alone at this table.”

In response, Teetee reached over and snatched Kong’s phone. “Hey! At least pretend to socialize.”

Kong hissed, lunging for it. “Teetee! Give it back!” His dramatic whine only made it funnier.

The whole table erupted in laughter, loud and bright, blending perfectly with the cafeteria's noise.

And along the way, something had definitely shifted. A spark of something new glimmered between them all, specifically between Teetee and Por who couldn't seem to stop looking at each other the whole time. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Later that same day… [5:00 P.M.]

Teetee stepped out of the Geoscience department building, exhausted from the long lectures. His social battery was running on fumes. The professor delved too much into his married life rather than the chapter at his hand. 

“That last class dragged forever,” he mumbled, adjusting the strap of his bag as he walked toward the large fountain just across the department building. He was set on slipping out the alternate exit when something made him slow down.

Por.

He stood beside the fountain with one hand tucked into his pocket, the other lifting in a soft wave when his eyes met Teetee’s.

Teetee blinked, surprised, then smiled as he quickened his pace.

“What are you doing here? Any work?” he asked, genuinely curious as he approached.

Por turned fully to face him, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish smile.

“Actually… I was waiting for you.” His voice held a shy wobble, the slightest tinge of pink coloring his cheeks.

Teetee blinked again. “Me?”

Por gave a nervous nod. “Yeah… I was wondering if you'd like to go out to a cafe? My treat. There's this new café I thought you might like. It's only a few blocks away from here…”

His voice trailed off as his gaze flicked between Teetee and anything that wasn't Teetee. The invitation was just a flimsy excuse. The truth was buzzing beneath Por’s skin—he couldn’t stop thinking about him. It had been two weeks since the rainy day they met, and every day since had only tightened the invisible thread pulling Por toward him.

He wanted to know Teetee’s every little habit, what made him laugh, what made him tick. He wanted to sit close enough to feel the warmth radiating off his skin. He wanted Teetee’s affection and love like a soft secret he could keep pressed against his chest.

But most of all, he just wanted to be with him. In any way he could.

Teetee’s eyes widened, caught somewhere between disbelief and awe.

He blinked once. Twice.

While Teetee had been busy trying to find the right moment to suggest spending time together, Por had already beat him to it somehow.

His crush just asked him out. Intentional or not.

“But… why?” Teetee asked, unable to keep the question from slipping out. It sounded too good to be true.

Por hesitated, his fingers fidgeting slightly at his sides. “Uhh… Do we really need a reason to hang out??” he offered, voice unsure.

“Or… is it that you do not want to?”

His voice dropped lower with the last question, trailing into something volatile. His heart thudded violently against his ribcage, nervousness flooding his limbs. He could already feel sweat gathering at his hairline, his stomach twisting itself into a thousand knots.

The idea of Teetee rejecting him didn’t seem far away. But still—he had to try. He wanted to try.

Teetee bit the inside of his cheek, holding back the grin that threatened to take over his whole face.

Por had called him “WanTee” earlier, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And now he's asking to hang out with him.

His heart was still playing catch-up, but in that moment, all he could think was:

I’m going on a date. This feels like a date. Please let this be a date.

It was almost too good to be true.

“Teetee…?” Por’s voice came again—softer now, laced with a fragile uncertainty. The silence had stretched too long, and he feared the worst.

Teetee blinked out of his daze and met Por’s eyes, wide with hope and hesitation. “Oh! Sorry—I mean, yes. Let’s go!” he blurted.

And then Por smiled.

It was the kind of smile that lit up the whole world—dazzling and sparkling, like a full moon casting silver light across a sleeping city. It made Teetee’s breath catch in his throat.

His heart couldn’t keep up. Not with that smile.

He was doomed—and he knew it. Every inch of Por seemed sculpted by love itself. Por’s face, his eyes, his smile, his personality—it was like Cupid had pinned a dozen heart-tipped arrows to him, ready with the intention to make the other person fall in love.

And now only pure magic could save Teetee from being the target of the thousands and millions of arrows pointed at him. Because he was already falling. Hard.

Without another word, they walked side by side toward the café Por just talked about.

Once they reached the café entrance, Por stepped forward without hesitation. He pushed open the glass door and, with a small smile, gestured for Teetee to go in first.

Teetee returned the smile—soft, a little shy—and stepped inside. Por followed close behind, letting the door close gently behind him. 

“What do you want to have?” Por asked, already taking out his phone to make a mental note.

“A latte,” Teetee replied, thoughtfully. “And maybe something to munch on. Anything’s fine.”

Por nodded, storing the order in his head like it was the most important information in the world. With a quick glance around, he nodded toward a nearby table. “Go ahead and grab a seat. I’ll order for us.”

Teetee watched him walk toward the counter, then made his way to a corner table by the window.

The seat was warm from sunlight filtering through the glass. Outside, the world moved as usual—cars driving past, students hurrying across the campus sidewalks. But inside, time felt slower. As if the whole café turned into a little time capsule for Teetee.

Teetee settled into the chair and let his eyes drift.

And of course, they landed on Por.

He was standing at the counter, his back turned, chatting with the barista as he placed their order. His hands moved a little when he talked. His shoulders looked relaxed, and he even laughed once at something the barista said.

It was such an ordinary sight. And yet—it made Teetee’s heart ache in the best way.

This is real, right?

This isn’t a dream?

I’m really here? With him?

The thoughts spun wild in Teetee’s mind.

Needing proof, he lifted his arm onto the table and, with his other hand, pinched the soft skin just below his elbow. Hard.

He winced. A sharp sting bloomed on his skin, followed by the angry flush of red and a slightly twisted pink mark at the center.

He let out a tiny hiss and released his arm, rubbing it gently.

This is not a dream…

The truth began to settle into his bones—slow and overwhelming.

I’m really sitting in a café… with him…

The realization hit like a balloon of joy popping inside his chest—bright and fizzy and loud. He felt like standing up right there and spinning in a circle, yelling with all the giddiness bubbling up inside him.

This was a big moment for Teetee.

Things were going surprisingly well. There was no disaster, no awkward stumble… yet.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted Por making his way back to the table, two drinks in hand and a small plate with something to munch on balanced on his tray.

Immediately, Teetee straightened in his seat, wiping any trace of daydreamy giddiness off his face. His expression settled into something calm. Cool. Composed. At least, he hoped it looked that way.

Por slid into the seat across from him, placing the drinks and snacks between them. 

For the next full minute—maybe two—they sat in a silence that was charged more than it was uncomfortable. Neither spoke, but they kept stealing glances, eyes darting away every time they were caught.

It was ridiculous. They’d been texting almost nonstop for the past two weeks. Late-night convos, memes, songs, check-ins. And yet—here they were now, sitting like two strangers on a blind date, scrambling inside their heads to make a good impression. Both hoping for this to work out.

It wasn’t awkward. But it wasn’t peaceful either.

The air between them buzzed with something budding. Bubbling right beneath the surface, like carbonated soda just waiting to fizz over.

Teetee stared at his drink and made a decision.

No more overthinking. He was here. Por was here. This was his chance. To at least secure his place in Por’s life as someone more than just a friend.

So, he opened his mouth and said:

“Ah… I'm sorry, your clothes are still with me. I remembered I haven’t returned them yet.”

And the second the words left his mouth, he regretted everything.

Of all things to say, really?

He mentally facepalmed. That’s your big move? Reminding him you still have his laundry?

But Por's response came faster than expected.

“No, no! It’s fine. You can keep it! I don't mind” Por shook both his head and hand like the very thought of giving them back was absurd.

Teetee raised an eyebrow. “You don’t need them?”

That’s when it hit Por.

Oh no.

What did I just say?

His brain-to-mouth filter had clearly malfunctioned.

He scrambled to fix it.

“I mean—just return it whenever! No rush. Take your time,” he added, too quickly, too nervously.

However, what he actually wanted to say was: You can wear them around campus for all I care. You look ridiculously good in my clothes. I want to see you in my clothes.

But instead, he sat there, cheeks slowly tinting pink, sipping his drink like it would hide the cTeetees swirling inside him.

Teetee gave a small, awkward nod—still unsure if he’d read Por right or completely misunderstood everything.

Then, after a hesitant pause, he finally voiced the question that had been circling in his mind since that day.

“Earlier… you called me ‘Wantee.’” His voice was soft but direct. “Was that a slip of the tongue?”

Por blinked, then shook his head slowly, a gentle smile tugging at his lips.

“Not at all. You know how we all say Wandee for a good day? I just took the first syllable of your name Wan from Wanpichit and added it to Tee.” He smiled softly at the memory.”

Teetee narrowed his eyes, lips curling into a pout. “That sounds weird.”

“No,” Por said, still grinning, chin resting on his palms as he leaned forward. “It suits you.”

Just by looking at you, I'm having a good day. Por thought

Then he leaned back in his chair, casually throwing one leg over the other like a disapproving rich aunt.

“Aren’t you younger than me? Why do you always talk to me so informally?”

Teetee sat up, affronted. “Hey! I’m not that much younger!”

“Three years is still a big difference,” Por said matter-of-factly, tilting his head slightly.

“It’s not even that big—it’s exactly two years, five months and twelve days.”

Por blinked, surprised. “You got it down to the exact number?”

“Shut up,” Teetee grumbled, gaze darting away from him. “I don’t believe in hierarchy. I believe in equality.” His tone was serious, his narrowed eyes only making him look more like a sulking puppy than a rebel against age-based speech.

Por burst into laughter, quickly covering his mouth with one hand to keep it down. Whereas Teetee tried to maintain his glare but the corners of his lips kept twitching upward.

After a few seconds, Teetee calmed down, eyes still glinting.

“So, that means I can give you a nickname too?” he asked.

Por perked up. “I’d be honored to have one—from you.”

A slow, mischievous smile spread across Teetee’s face.

“Pippo.”

Por blinked, surprised for a second—clesrly taken aback. “Pippo?”

Teetee nodded enthusiastically. “Instead of calling you Phi or Phi Por. I'll call you Pippo.”

A blush. A skip of heartbeat. Por felt like melting on his seat. That was the sweetest nickname someone had ever given to him.

Trying to maintain his cool, he cleared his throat.

“WanTee and Pippo,” he said, voice light with amusement. “Don’t you think we sound cute together?”

Teetee smirked. “Well, obviously. We are cute. Buttttt”

“Pippo is the cutest.”

Por blushed, ducking down his head in shyness.

Soon enough the table broke into laughter, bubbling with genuine joy as they continued talking—the kind that left them light and dizzy. Any trace of nervousness from before left the air completely. The two slowly got a step closer to each other in their newly budding bond. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── 

The two stood just outside the café now, their bags slung over their shoulders, the air around them feeling a lot lighter than before.

“Why didn’t you let me pay, Pippo?!” Teetee pouted, playfully punching Por’s arm with a whine.

Por laughed, clearly amused by Teetee’s dramatics. “It was my treat. How could I possibly let you pay for something I suggested, WanTee?”

“Still…” Teetee grumbled in protest, lips tugged into a half-pout.

“No still,” Por said, grinning wide enough for the cheeks to puff up. “You can pay me next time.” He threw in a wink for good measure.

Then he glanced up at the sky, then down at his watch. “It’s still a bit early… Want to take a walk with me before it gets dark?”

Teetee nodded—enthusiastically. Too enthusiastically.

In his mind, he was already imagining how it would go: they’d walk side by side, shoulders gently brushing, their hands accidentally brushing too—until maybe, just maybe, their fingers would intertwine under the soft twilight, the breeze wrapping around them like a secret. It was the kind of moment romance novels romanticized. And Teetee was ready to live it.

Except—

CRACK.

A sudden thunderclap ripped across the sky, loud and jarring. Within seconds, the sunlight vanished behind a wash of ominous clouds, and rain began to pour with no warning at all.

They both instinctively ducked under the café awning just in time, spared from getting drenched—for now.

‘Well… there goes my dreamy little plans straight into the gutter.’ He lamented internally, watching the rain fall like a curtain between him and what could have been.

Beside him, Por seemed unbothered. He reached into his bag and pulled out a compact, foldable umbrella.

(Why did he even have that in there? Don’t ask. He just did.)

With a swift motion, he flicked it open, the fabric snapping with a soft rustle. Then he turned to Teetee, face half-lit by the gray light.

“Hey,” he said gently, “we’ll get soaked if we wait too long. Want to head somewhere safer?”

Teetee blinked and then nodded quietly.

They stepped into the rain under the small umbrella, walking side by side. Por held the handle, but Teetee noticed how he was subtly tilting it more toward him, letting his own shoulder get wet to keep Teetee dry.

Since the umbrella barely covered the two of them, their shoulders kept brushing—fingers grazing, knuckles bumping—sending soft sparks of electricity through their skin with every fleeting touch. Each contact left behind a lingering tingle, like their bodies were slowly waking up to something new and thrilling.

Teetee, who had been mentally cursing the rain just minutes ago, now wanted to high-five it. Maybe the rain was trying to ruin his fantasies. Maybe it was playing cupid—rushing the moment, acting as a catalyst. Either way, Teetee wasn’t complaining. This was going way better than he imagined.

They couldn’t stop smiling. Couldn’t stop sneaking glances. Couldn’t stop the warmth rising in their cheeks. Everything about this walk—the rain, the shared umbrella, the stolen touches—felt like a scene from a drama too good to be real.

Por’s heart was slowly picking up its pace. His hand kept brushing Teetee’s, and each time, the urge to hold them tight grew stronger. He remembered the first time he held Teetee’s hand—it was out of necessity. This time, he wanted to do it with the intention of solely holding his hands.

He took a deep breath and gently moved his pinky closer, inch by inch, until it was just about to hook with Teetee’s—

—when Teetee suddenly tripped on his own foot.

It was too sudden. Por reacted instantly, his body moving before his mind. He lunged forward and caught Teetee, one arm wrapping firmly around his waist, pulling him right into his chest.

“Are you okay? Did it hurt?” Por asked, concern laced in his voice, lips parted in a worried pout.

But Teetee couldn’t hear a single word.

All he could focus on was the sensation—Por’s arm snug around him, the steady thump of Por’s heart against his own, the warmth of his breath brushing across Teetee’s face. Por’s face that was just a few centimetres away from his. Every little detail, every bit of proximity, was short-circuiting Teetee’s brain.

His face went up in flames—first the ears, then the cheeks, then full-body red alert. He wasn’t sure how long he could stay like this without melting into his arms—or worse, leaning in and kissing him.

“I—I’m okay… You can let me go now,” Teetee mumbled, turning his face away, trying not to show the redness on his face.

The words hit Por like a whiplash. Reality crashed into him all at once—the closeness, the way Teetee had fit perfectly in his arms, the way his face flushed such a soft pink…

And what he had just done.

Por pulled away quickly, creating a small but noticeable distance between them. “I—I’m sorry… You were falling and I just reacted—I didn’t really think—”

“No, thank you,” Teetee cut in, smiling gently. “You saved me from face-planting on the pavement. I’m just… clumsy like that.”

Por’s face turned red in an instant. He nodded quickly, clearing his throat, trying to salvage his composure.

“Then I—I guess I should hold your ha—hand… to keep you from falling again,” Por stammered with his face still beet red.

Before Teetee could say a word, Por reached out, fingers intertwining through Teetee’s, their palms pressing together firmly like pieces of puzzle fitting right with each other.

They continued walking like that—under the same umbrella, Por gently tugging Teetee closer to him, their shoulders brushing, their hands intertwined.

Teetee stared down at their joined hands as a soft grin bloomed across his face.

The event wasn't a fluke afterall.

Teetee glanced at Por. 

It really made me find the one for me. Even if the beginning was a bit bumpy. 

A walk under the rain with his crush holding his hand protecting him from harm. He couldn’t have asked for more. This was so much better than the walk he had in his mind.

As the rain began to fade, a faint rainbow peeked from behind the clouds, yet the two continued to walk under the umbrella with their hands held tight and smiles wide. 

Maybe Teetee’s luck in love was not trash but waiting for the right person to appear so that it can go all out. Or maybe it was genuinely worse. Either way, now that he found Por he wasn't letting him go.

Never. Even if his luck tortures him with obstacles.