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New Thitipoom was a man of logic, routine, and structured iced americano intake. He understood cause and effect. What he did not understand was the sudden, violent urge to throw his iced americano at Joss Way-ar’s perfectly symmetrical face.
"He’s just so attentive, Hin," Tay Tawan sighed, resting his chin on his hands, his eyes doing that soft, crinkly thing they usually only did when looking at puppies or high-quality camera lenses. "Yesterday, he brought me that specific green tea from the cafe near my old condo. The one that closed down? He tracked down the owner's new place."
"Stalker behavior," New muttered, aggressively stabbing his straw into the plastic cup.
"It’s called romance!" Tay defended, a light flush creeping up his neck. "And he listens. I told him I lost my favorite lens cap, and he found the exact vintage replacement online."
New clenched his jaw. I have three of those lens caps in my nightstand drawer because you lose one every Tuesday, Te.
But New didn’t say that. Because for the last three years, New had been the undisputed king of Tay Tawan’s universe. Tay had courted him with the subtlety of a runaway freight train; showering him with gifts, holding his hand under dinner tables, and dropping confessions so frequently they practically became a greeting. “Good morning, Hin, I love you, did you sleep well?”
And New, panicked by the sheer volume of Tay’s feelings and terrified of ruining their absolute rock of a friendship, had always laughed it off. “Stop playing around, Te. You’re my best friend, don't be weird.”
Eventually, Tay had stopped being weird.
About three months ago, the confessions dried up. The lingering touches morphed into casual shoulder pats. Tay had quietly, gracefully, stepped back into the designated "best friend" box, loving New with a fiercely protective but entirely platonic distance.
New had thought he’d feel relieved.
Instead, he felt like he was suffocating in an empty room. And then Joss Way-ar—6'3" of pure, unadulterated genetic privilege, had walked right into that empty room and set up a camp.
-
The real crisis hit during their weekly dinner. Usually, New sat next to Tay. It was an unspoken rule, older than time itself. But when New arrived at the restaurant, Joss was already ensconced in New’s rightful throne, whispering something into Tay’s ear that made Tay giggle.
Giggle. Tay Tawan did not giggle. He cackled like a dying hyena. This soft, breathless sound was entirely manufactured by the devil to ruin New’s life.
"Oh, New! You're here," Tay blurted, looking up with a bright smile. "Sit across from us! Joss was just telling me about his upcoming shoot."
"Great. Love shoots," New said, his voice flat enough to use as a spirit level. He slid into the opposite booth, staring at Joss’s arm, which was casually draped over the back of Tay’s seat.
Throughout dinner, New watched a horror movie play out in real-time.
Exhibit A: Joss wiped a stray drop of soup from Tay's chin. (New usually just threw a napkin at Tay's face and told him he ate like a toddler).
Exhibit B: Joss laughed at Tay's incredibly niche, boring story about 14th-century architectural ruins. (New usually told him to shut up and eat his rice).
Exhibit C: Joss squeezed Tay’s shoulder when Tay got clumsy and knocked over a water glass.
"I can give you a ride home, Te," New intervened abruptly, cutting off Joss mid-sentence. "My car is parked right outside."
"Oh, actually, Joss is driving me," Tay said gently, offering a small, apologetic smile. "We're going to check out that night market afterward. You remember, the one you said was too crowded and sweaty?"
New felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest. "Right. The sweaty one."
As they all stood up to leave, Joss stepped away to pay the bill. New seized Tay by the forearm, pulling him into the hallway near the restrooms.
"Hin? What's wrong? You barely touched your food," Tay asked, his eyes immediately filling with genuine, familiar worry.
"Are you seriously dating him?" New demanded, his voice a little too loud, a little too raw.
Tay blinked, surprised. Then, his expression softened into something painfully bittersweet. "Joss is really sweet, New. He treats me well. And... I think it’s time I tried to move forward. I can’t stay frozen in one place forever."
"But he's not right for you," New blurted out, logic completely failing him.
"Why?" Tay asked, stepping a bit closer, looking directly into New's eyes. There was no malice in his voice, just a quiet, devastating curiosity. "Because he likes me? Because he actually tells me he wants to be with me?"
New froze. The words ‘because you're mine’ lodged themselves firmly in his throat, choking him. He couldn’t say it. He didn’t have the right.
"I just don't want you to get hurt," New whispered weakly.
Tay reached out, patting New's arm. That casual, platonic pat that New had grown to absolutely despise. "I won't. Don't worry so much, bestie."
Bestie. New wanted to swallow a fork.
-
New Thitipoom did not lose. If Tay Tawan wanted a rom-com, New was going to direct the damn movie.
The next morning, Tay was sitting inside the lounge, reviewing a script. New walked in, fully armed. He dropped a massive, heavily insulated thermos onto the table.
"What's this?" Tay asked, blinking.
"Pork bone soup," New said, sitting down so close their thighs brushed. "I boiled it for four hours. It’s good for your bones. Since you're always falling down stairs."
"Uh... thank you?" Tay opened it, steam rising. "Wow, New, this smells amazing. Did you really make this?"
"Yes. And I also bought you these." New shoved a brand-new, limited-edition vintage camera strap into Tay’s hands. "I saw it. Thought of you. Don't lose it."
Tay stared at the strap, then at the soup, and then at New, his forehead creasing in profound confusion. "Hin... are you dying? Do you have a terminal illness you're not telling me about?"
"No! I'm being attentive!" New snapped, leaning in. "I can listen too, Te. Ask me about 14th-century architecture. Go ahead. Ask me about the flying buttresses."
Before Tay could process this terrifying, sudden interest in medieval engineering, the lounge doors swung open.
Enter Joss, holding a single, perfect pink rose.
"Hey, Tay," Joss smiled, completely ignoring New’s death glare. "Ready for our lunch date?"
New stood up, stepping directly between Joss and Tay. He wasn't as tall as Joss, but what he lacked in height, he made up for in pure, concentrated spite. "He can't go to lunch. He has to eat this soup. It took four hours, Joss. Four hours."
"New!" Tay hissed, his voice dropping an octave as he firmly grabbed New’s wrist and pulled him away from Joss. "Stop it. What is wrong with you lately?"
"Nothing!" New yelled, turning around to face Tay. His chest was heaving, his filter entirely disintegrated. "Nothing is wrong with me except the fact that I am losing my mind! I hate the tall guy! I hate the rose! I hate that you're looking at him instead of me!"
The entire lounge went dead silent. Joss raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms, looking amused but giving them space.
New expected Tay to soften. He expected Tay to get flustered, to laugh, or to apologize. Instead, Tay’s face went entirely blank. The warmth New took for granted completely vanished from Tay's eyes.
"Are you serious right now, New?" Tay asked, his voice terribly quiet.
"Te—"
"No, let me speak," Tay interrupted, stepping back, ripping his wrist out of New's grip. "Do you have any idea how unfair you are being? For three years, New. For three years, I bared my soul to you. I took every joke, every rejection, every single laugh-off, and I smiled through it because I loved you. It took everything I had to finally pull myself together and find the courage to move forward."
A heavy weight dropped into New's stomach. "I know, but—"
"And now that I am finally trying to heal, now that someone else is actually looking at me and treating me like I'm their first choice, you decide you want to throw a tantrum?" Tay’s eyes welled with sudden, angry tears. "You can't just pick me up and put me down whenever it's convenient for you. I am not a toy you only want because someone else is playing with it."
"It's not like that," New choked out, his chest tightening painfully. "I'm sorry, Te. I was scared before, but I realize now—"
"It's too late for a sudden realization, New," Tay said, his voice cracking. He looked down at the floor, taking a shaky breath before looking back up. And the next words out of his mouth shattered New’s heart into a million jagged pieces. "Because the truth is... it's working. Joss is amazing to me. And I’m actually starting to fall in love with him."
New felt the air completely leave his lungs. It felt like a physical blow to the chest. Fall in love with him? No. That was supposed to be Tay and New. That was always supposed to be them.
"Te, please..." New's voice was barely a whisper.
Tay looked at New, his expression filled with a profound, sorrowful pity that hurt worse than the words. "I'm going to lunch, New. Let me go."
Tay turned around, offering a soft, tired smile to the waiting guy. "Sorry about that, Joss. Let's go eat."
Joss glanced back at New. He was no longer looking amused, but genuinely sympathetic, before wrapping an arm around Tay’s shoulder and guiding him out of the lounge.
New stood frozen in the middle of the empty lounge. The thermos of soup sat cooling on the table, a stark monument to his failure. A single tear finally slipped down his cheek, followed by a wave of hot, burning anger.
Not at Tay. Never at Tay. But at himself.
He had let Tay do all the heavy lifting for three years. He had let Tay bleed out romance until he had nothing left to give, and then expected him to just snap back into place the moment New felt a twinge of jealousy.
Tay was right. It was unfair.
New wiped his face aggressively with the back of his hand.
Tay had said it took everything he had to move forward. Which meant there was still a part of him looking back. And if Tay Tawan thought New Thitipoom was just going to sit on the sidelines and watch him fall in love with a giant, rose-bearing model, he had another thing coming.
Tay fell first, but New was falling harder, faster, and with the terrifying velocity of a man who had absolutely nothing left to lose.
New grabbed his car keys off the table. If before Tay did the chasing, it was New's turn now. He was going to court Tay Tawan, until the older man forgot Joss Way-ar even existed. He was going to buy the stupid lens caps. He was going to learn about 14th-century architecture. He was going to show up at every single lunch date, every single night market, and make an absolute nuisance of himself until Tay realized where he belonged.
-
New did not just "accidentally" find the restaurant. He executed a tactical tracking mission that would have put MI6 to shame.
By the time he arrived at the upscale bistro in Thonglor, New had already completed a comprehensive deep dive into Joss Way-ar’s digital footprint. He didn’t just look at Instagram; he analyzed tagged photos, interview transcripts, and old Twitter threads.
And that was when he hit gold. In a 2024 interview with a niche fashion magazine, Joss had explicitly stated his absolute ideal type: "Someone very artsy, who speaks three languages, loves vinyl records, and understands the chaotic energy of the fashion industry. Bonus points if they have a cat."
Tay Tawan was many things. He was a chaotic ball of sunshine, a walking hazard to glass coffee tables, and a brilliant photographer. But Tay was decidedly not a multilingual fashionista who listened to vinyl. Tay listened to 90s Thai pop on Spotify and owned zero cats because he was convinced he would accidentally step on one.
But New knew exactly who did fit that description perfectly. Gawin Cascade.
Gawin was their introverted colleague, an international creative, fluent in English, Thai, and French, owned a bespoke record collection, and literally posted Instagram stories with his British shorthair cat every Sunday. It was a matchmaking blueprint handed down by the gods themselves.
New smirked, pulling up his line app as he parked his car.
New: Gawin, bro. Are you free right now? I need a huge favor. There’s a free dry-aged wagyu ribeye in it for you.
Gawin: Say less. Where am I going?
-
Inside the restaurant, Tay was trying very hard to focus on his salad, but his mind was a chaotic mess of guilt and sadness. He had never spoken to New like that before. Seeing New look so utterly broken had torn a hole in his chest, but Tay had to be firm. He couldn't keep letting New pull his heartstrings.
"Tay? You're spacing out on me," Joss said softly, reaching across the table to gently tap Tay's knuckles. "Still thinking about the lounge?"
"I... yeah. Sorry, Joss," Tay sighed, offering a weak smile. "New is just... he's my best friend, and we've never fought like that."
"It's okay. I get it. But hey, let's focus on us today, right? I wanted to ask you about—"
"Oh my god, Te?! Joss?! What a crazy coincidence!"
Tay nearly choked on a crouton. He whipped his head around to see New walking toward their table, looking utterly radiant. There was no trace of the crying boy from the lounge. New was wearing a perfectly fitted shirt, his hair styled to perfection, sporting a grin that screamed pure, unadulterated mischief.
And trailing right behind him was Gawin Cascade, looking like he had just stepped off a Parisian street.
"New? Gawin?" Tay blinked, his brain short-circuiting. "What are you guys doing here?"
"Gawin and I were just scouting locations for a shoot, and we got hungry," New lied smoothly, not batting an eye. Before Joss or Tay could object, New pulled up two chairs from an adjacent empty table and slotted them right in. New strategically sat directly next to Tay, effectively pinning him against the booth wall, while pushing Gawin into the seat beside Joss.
"Wow, Joss, it's been a while," Gawin said, his voice smooth as silk. "I saw your latest editorial spread for Tatler. The conceptual direction of that shoot was incredible."
Joss’s eyes widened slightly. His posture shifted, straightening up. "Oh, thanks, man. Coming from you, that means a lot. I actually hated the styling on that shoot, though."
"Right?!" Gawin leaned in, his eyes lighting up. "The neon fringe? Total disaster. It’s like they don't understand the nuance of minimalist streetwear."
"Exactly!" Joss exclaimed, his face animating in a way it hadn't all afternoon with Tay. "Finally, someone gets it!"
New sat back, taking a slow, victorious sip of Tay’s iced water. Phase one was an unqualified success.
While Joss and Gawin immediately descended into a highly technical, deeply passionate debate about French fashion houses and the difficulties of cat ownership in Bangkok apartments, New turned his full, undivided attention to Tay.
Tay was staring at Joss and Gawin, looking slightly bewildered by how quickly his date had forgotten his existence.
"Are you going to eat that tomato?" New whispered, his voice dangerously close to Tay’s ear.
Tay jumped slightly, looking at New. "No Hin. Take it."
New didn't just take it with his fork. He picked up his own spoon, scooped up a perfect bite of his own salmon tartare that he had just ordered, and held it up to Tay’s lips.
"New, what are you doing?" Tay hissed, his cheeks flaring pink. "Joss is right there."
"Joss is currently discussing the merits of 180-gram vinyl pressings with Gawin," New pointed out, not lowering the spoon. "Eat, Te. You lost weight this week. Your cheeks aren't as squishy."
"They are squishy!" Tay protested automatically.
"Prove it. Eat."
Blushing furiously, Tay leaned forward and took the bite from New's spoon. New smiled, a soft, incredibly tender expression that made Tay’s heart do an uncomfortable flip. New reached out, his thumb gently brushing against the corner of Tay’s mouth to wipe away a speck of sauce.
Unlike Joss’s polite napkin-wiping from earlier, New’s thumb lingered on Tay's lower lip for a fraction of a second too long. His skin felt hot.
"Hin..." Tay whispered, a warning tone that lacked any real conviction.
"I remember everything, Te," New murmured, his voice dropping to a low, intimate register that was meant for Tay's ears only. He leaned in closer, his shoulder pressing firmly against Tay's. "I know you hate raw onions in your salad. I know you prefer the dressing on the side. I know that when you're stressed, you chew on the inside of your lip until it bleeds."
Tay trapped his lower lip between his teeth, realizing he was doing exactly that right now.
"Joss might know your favorite tea," New continued, his eyes locked onto Tay's, burning with a fierce, possessive intensity. "But I know you. I’ve spent three years learning you, Tawan. And I’m not letting all that data go to waste."
Tay’s breath hitched. The pure, dominant confidence radiating off New was entirely intoxicating. This wasn't the New who laughed off his feelings. This was a man claiming his territory, using every single piece of intimate knowledge he possessed to tear down Tay's defenses.
Across the table, Joss was practically sparkling. "Wait, Gawin, you speak French too? No way! I’ve been trying to find a good conversational partner for my upcoming trip to Paris."
"I can just teach you," Gawin smiled, flashing a devastatingly handsome dimple. "Over dinner? My treat."
Joss actually blushed. He glanced over at Tay, sudden guilt washing over his face as he remembered he was technically on a date. "Uh, Tay, I'm sorry, we got a bit carried away..."
"Oh, don't worry about it at all, Joss!" New interrupted cheerfully, wrapping an arm securely around Tay’s shoulders and pulling him flush against his chest. "Take his number! Expand your network. In fact, Tay and I actually have to leave early. We have a... private scheduling meeting to attend to."
Tay looked at New's arm around him, then at Joss, who looked thoroughly captivated by Gawin, and finally back to New, whose eyes were full of a triumphant, wicked spark.
The moment the restaurant doors swung shut behind them, leaving Joss and Gawin to their little own world, Tay ripped himself out of New’s iron grip.
"Okay, cut the crap, Thitipoom," Tay demanded, spinning around on the sidewalk. He crossed his arms, his chest heaving as he glared at New. "What the actual hell did you just do in there?"
New blinked, his expression melting instantly into a picture of wide-eyed, doughy innocence. "What do you mean? I fed you salmon. You like salmon."
"Don't give me that!" Tay threw his hands up, nearly hitting a passing pedestrian. "You casually strolled in with Gawin Cascade and dropped him directly into my date's lap! You orchestrated that whole thing!"
"Te, you're being paranoid," New said smoothly, stepping closer and reaching out to adjust the collar of Tay’s jacket. His fingers brushed against Tay's neck, sparking a jolt of heat that made Tay stifle a gasp. "Gawin and I were literally just scouting locations. Is it my fault Joss has a type? Honestly, you should be thanking me. I think I just helped your boyfriend find his true soulmate."
"He's not my boyfriend!" Tay snapped, flustered.
"Good," New murmured, his thumb lightly grazing Tay’s jawline before he stepped back with a smug, devastating smile. "Because your parking meter is about to expire, and you still haven't finished your lunch. Come on, I'll buy you noodles. Real noodles. Not that grassy salad stuff."
Tay stood on the sidewalk, his brain thoroughly scrambled, watching New walk toward his car with the swagger of a man who knew exactly what he was doing.
-
The next afternoon, Tay sat across from Joss in a quiet corner of a café. The tension between them wasn't angry; it was just profoundly awkward.
"Tay, look," Joss started, rubbing the back of his neck, looking genuinely apologetic. "About yesterday... I am so sorry. I totally lost my focus, and it was incredibly disrespectful to you."
Tay let out a soft, relieved chuckle. "Joss, it's fine. Honestly. You don't have to apologize."
"No, I do," Joss insisted, though a faint, goofy smile crept onto his face. "But... Gawin did text me last night. We talked about French cinema for three hours."
"Go for it," Tay smiled warmly, genuinely happy for him. "We were only on our second date, Joss. It’s better that we realize now that we make better friends than partners."
"Definitely friends," Joss agreed, clinking his iced coffee against Tay's. But then, Joss’s expression turned serious. He leaned across the table, narrowing his eyes. "But we need to talk about New."
Tay sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Don't remind me. He's driving me insane. He's suddenly being attentive and acting like a jealous bodyguard."
"Do you think he's sincere?" Joss asked bluntly.
Tay paused, his heart squeezing. "I want to believe he is. But... it's just so sudden. For three years, he didn't want me. Now that I finally tried to walk away, he's throwing a tantrum. What if it's just his ego talking? What if he just hates losing his favorite toy to someone else, and the moment I give in, he goes back to treating me like just a best friend?"
Joss hummed, tapping his fingers on the table. A wicked, mischievous glint suddenly flashed in the giant model's eyes.
"What?" Tay asked defensively.
"I might be with Gawin now," Joss grinned, a slow, plotting smirk spreading across his face. "But New doesn't need to know that yet. If he wants to play a high-stakes game of territory, let's see how hard he's actually willing to fight for you."
Tay blinked. "Joss... what are you suggesting?"
"I'm suggesting we test him," Joss chuckled. "Let’s see if his sudden 'awakening' is real love, or just a bruised ego. And I am more than happy to play the villain a little longer to help a friend get his answers."
-
New Thitipoom walked into the building with the absolute certainty of a man who had successfully conquered a kingdom. He had strategically deployed Gavin, dismantled Joss’s defenses, and cleared the runway for his own grand romantic takeover.
He was even holding a paper bag containing two warm, freshly baked chocolate croissants from the artisanal bakery Tay always raved about.
"Good morning, Newwie," Off Jumpol greeted as New stepped into the lounge. Off was staring at his phone, but he casually waved a hand toward the glass partition overlooking the courtyard. "If you're looking for Tay, he's downstairs. With his boyfriend."
New paused, his fingers tightening around the paper bag. "His what?"
"His boyfriend. Or suitor. Whatever," Off shrugged carelessly. "Joss brought him breakfast."
New didn't answer. He turned on his heel and marched toward the window, his chest tightening.
Down in the courtyard, sitting at a sunlit bench, were Joss and Tay. Not only were they together, but Tay was actively laughing—that bright, hand-slapping, head-thrown-back laugh that New considered his personal property. Joss was leaning in close, brushing a stray lock of hair from Tay’s forehead with an agonizingly tender smile.
New’s brain flatlined. How? The Gawin distraction was supposed to be airtight! Gawin was supposed to be a walking thirst trap of vinyl records and cat memes!
Right on cue, the lounge doors opened, and Gawin walked in, sipping a matcha latte. He looked effortlessly chic, his expression entirely neutral.
New practically lunged at him, grabbing Gawin by the sleeve of his oversized linen shirt and dragging him into a corner. "Gawin. Explain. Why is the giant still here? I thought you two talked about French cinema for three hours!"
Gawin blinked, slowly swallowing his matcha before offering a calm, devastatingly tragic sigh. "We did, New. But alas, love is complicated. Joss told me this morning that while he finds me fascinating, his heart still belongs firmly to Tay. He said he can’t ignore the spark he feels with Tay."
New felt like he had just been hit by a metaphorical freight train. "He... he rejected you?"
"Devastating, I know," Gawin said, though if New wasn't so blinded by sheer panic, he might have noticed the slight, twitching smirk at the corner of Gawin’s lips. In reality, Gawin’s phone was currently buzzing in his pocket with a text from Joss.
My Mon Chéri <3: You're doing great, babe. See you for dinner at 8!
"I tried, mate," Gawin patted New’s shoulder with faux sympathy. "But it looks like Tay has officially moved on. You might want to get used to seeing Joss around."
-
New did not get used to it. In fact, the next three days were a masterclass in psychological torture, designed entirely by the universe to make New suffer.
Everywhere New turned, Tay was just out of reach. If New tried to sit next to Tay during a script reading, Tay would smoothly stand up to get a bottle of water and take a seat next to Arm instead. If New texted him a funny meme, Tay would reply three hours later with a polite, devastatingly formal, "Haha cute. Anyway, I'm at dinner with Joss right now, speak later!"
The tables hadn't just turned; they had been flipped over and set on fire.
The absolute breaking point occurred during a break in their promotional photoshoot. Tay was sitting in the makeup chair, scrolling through his phone. New, unable to handle the distance for a single second longer, walked over and practically slumped his entire body weight against the armrest of Tay’s chair.
"Te," New pined openly, his voice a low, pathetic whine that he would normally never allow anyone to hear. "You're ignoring me."
Tay didn't look up from his phone. "I'm not ignoring you, Hin. I'm just busy."
"You're not busy, you're looking at a picture of a vintage camera on Instagram," New grumbled, reaching out to gently tug at the hem of Tay’s sleeve. "Come eat dinner with me tonight. I'll buy you that super expensive Japanese BBQ you love. The one where they massage the cows before they cook them."
For a split second, Tay’s eyes softened. He looked at New, really looked at him, and saw the dark circles under New's eyes, the slight pout on his lips, and the genuine, desperate longing radiating from his best friend.
Tay’s heart ached. He wanted nothing more than to drop the act and pull New into his arms.
But then he remembered the three years of waiting. He remembered the sting of being laughed off. He needed to know this was real.
Tay firmly masked his expression, gently pulling his sleeve out of New’s grasp. "I can't tonight, Hin. Joss is picking me up. We're going to an art gallery opening."
"An art gallery?" New scoffed, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. "You hate art galleries! You always trip over the stanchions and almost destroy a million-dollar painting!"
"Joss holds my hand so I don't trip," Tay said smoothly, turning his head so the makeup artist could apply setting spray.
The words felt like a physical twist of a knife in New's chest. Joss holds my hand.
"Te, please," New whispered, his pride completely disintegrating. He leaned closer, his voice dropping so only Tay could hear. "Don't do this. I'm begging you. Just give me one night. Let me show you that I mean it. I'm not playing a game."
Tay closed his eyes for a brief moment, inhaling slowly. When he opened them, he looked at New with a quiet, hard-to-get resolve. "You had three years of nights, New. I need time. And right now, I'm giving my time to Joss."
New stepped back, his chest hollow, watching Tay walk out of the dressing room to answer a phone call. Presumably from Joss.
He felt entirely defeated. For the first time in his life, logic and planning had failed him. He was drowning in his own feelings, completely helpless against the monster he had created by being too scared to love Tay back.
"Damn, you look like a wet puppy," a voice chuckled from the doorway.
New snapped his head up to see Gawin standing there, tossing an apple in the air.
"Not now, Gawin," New muttered, burying his face in his hands. "I lost. He really loves him. I ruined everything."
Gawin stopped tossing the apple. He looked at New’s genuinely shattered expression and felt a sudden pang of guilt. The plan was working too well. New was completely defeated.
Gawin walked over, leaning against the vanity table. "Hey. Look at me."
New peeked through his fingers.
"Do you really love him?" Gawin asked, his tone unusually serious. "Or are you just mad that you lost your favorite person to a guy who’s taller than you?"
"I don't care about his height!" New burst out, sitting up straight, his eyes fiercely sincere. "I love him, Gawin. I’ve loved him for years. I was just a coward. I thought if I kept him as a friend, I’d never have to lose him. But watching him look at Joss... it makes me feel like I’m dying. I don’t care if I have to chase him for the next three years. I’m not giving up."
Gawin stared at him for a long moment, verifying the absolute truth in New's eyes. Finally, a slow, brilliant smirk spread across Gawin’s face. He pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons.
"What are you doing?" New asked miserably.
"Giving you a tactical advantage," Gawin said, turning his phone screen to show New a shared location pin. "Joss and Tay aren't going to an art gallery tonight. Joss is taking Tay to that private rooftop lounge in Sukhumvit at 7:00 PM. Joss is planning to bring a bouquet of red tulips, Tay's favorite."
New blinked, his brain trying to process the sudden betrayal. "Wait... why are you telling me this? I thought Joss rejected you?"
"Oh, please," Gawin scoffed, rolling his eyes as he took a bite of his apple. "Joss is currently saved in my phone as 'My Mon Chéri' with a heart emoji. The whole 'still in love with Tay' thing was a setup to see if you’d actually fight for him, or just pout and give up."
New’s jaw dropped. "You guys... you played me?!"
"We did," Gawin grinned, entirely unapologetic. "And honestly? You deserved it for being a coward for three years. But now you know where he is. The question is, New... what are you going to do about it?"
New’s despair instantly evaporated, replaced by a sudden, electric surge of pure adrenaline. A slow, dangerous smirk crept onto his face.
"I'm going to go hijack a date," New said, standing up and grabbing his leather jacket. "And I'm buying every single red tulip in Bangkok on the way."
-
At exactly 6:45 PM, the sky over Bangkok bled into a dramatic shade of violet. Up on the exclusive rooftop lounge in Sukhumvit, the ambiance was practically dripping with romantic intent. Soft jazz playing over hidden speakers, fairy lights twinkling against the city skyline, and a gentle breeze rustling the potted palms.
Tay Tawan sat at a secluded corner table, looking a bit nervous as he adjusted his watch.
Joss sat across from him, checking his phone under the table.
"Is he coming?" Tay whispered anxiously. "Joss, what if we pushed him too hard? What if Gawin’s tip didn't work and New just gave up?"
Joss peeked at his screen, a text from Gawin reading: The polar bear has taken the bait. And by bait, I mean he bought out the flower shop.
"Trust the process, Tay," Joss smirked, smoothing down his lapels. "He's coming. Just remember, stay strong. Make him work for it."
Right on cue, the heavy glass doors of the rooftop lounge didn't just open; they practically rattled on their hinges.
Enter New Thitipoom.
He didn't just look like a man on a mission; he looked like a walking botanical garden. New was carrying an absurd, aggressively large bundle of deep, velvety red tulips. There were so many stems wrapped in brown kraft paper that New’s upper torso was barely visible. He looked like a very handsome, very determined bush.
The hostess tried to intercept him. "Sir, excuse me, do you have a reservation—"
"I am the reservation," New said smoothly, not even breaking his stride as his eyes locked onto their corner table.
Tay’s breath hitched. Joss immediately went into character, putting on his best 'protective suitor' face, though his eyes were dancing with suppressed amusement.
New arrived at the table like a thunderstorm. Without a single word of greeting, he dropped the massive explosion of tulips directly onto the table, completely burying Joss’s single, meager bouquet of red tulips under a mountain of superior flora.
"New?!" Tay gasped, half-acting, half-genuinely shocked by the sheer volume of flowers. "What are you doing here?"
"Your date is over," New stated. His voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a terrifying, low-frequency authority that made the ice in Tay’s glass rattle.
Joss stood up, towering over the table, playing his part to perfection. "Hey, man, you can't just crash our—"
New turned a sharp, icy glare onto Joss. "Joss. Respectfully. Shut up." New reached into his leather jacket, pulled out a sleek, premium card, and slid it across the table into Joss's hand. "This is a voucher for a private, all-expenses-paid VIP tasting menu at the Michelin-star French restaurant down the street. Table for two. Gawin is already waiting there for you. Go."
Joss looked at the card, then looked at Tay, and totally broke character to flash a massive, victorious grin. "Wow. You really did your homework. Good luck, Tay."
Joss didn't even look back. He pocketed the card, grabbed his jacket, and practically sprinted toward the elevators to go find his trilingual boy.
Suddenly, the vast, luxurious rooftop felt incredibly small. The space between Tay and New shrank to nothing.
Tay tried to stand up, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. "Hin, you can't just buy off my dates! That is highly unethical and—"
New didn't let him finish. He stepped into Tay’s space, his hands coming down firmly on the armrests of Tay’s chair, effectively trapping Tay between his body and the high leather backrest. New leaned down until their noses were barely inches apart.
"Hin," Tay breathed, his voice suddenly losing all its hard-to-get edge, replaced by a soft, trembling vulnerability. "Get back. People are looking."
"Let them look," New murmured, his eyes dark, intense, and completely unyielding. "I spent three days watching you look at someone else, Te. You think I care about a bunch of strangers at a rooftop bar?"
Tay trapped his lower lip between his teeth, trying to summon his resolve. "You think you can just show up with a truckload of flowers and make everything okay? It doesn't work that way. I told you, I'm trying to move on. It's unfair of you to keep dragging me back."
"You're not moving on," New countered fiercely, his gaze dropping to Tay's lips before snapping back up to his eyes. "Because if you were really moving on, your heart wouldn't be beating this fast right now."
Tay’s chest heaved. He was entirely cornered, overwhelmed by the clean, familiar scent of New’s cologne and the intoxicating energy New was radiating.
"I know about the plan, Te," New whispered, a soft, incredibly tender smile breaking through his fierce exterior.
Tay froze. "You... you know?"
"Gawin spilled everything," New chuckled softly, his hand leaving the armrest to gently cup Tay’s cheek. His thumb stroked Tay's cheekbone with an aching fondness. "But honestly? I'm glad you did it. I deserved every single second of it. I deserved to feel the panic of losing you, because that’s exactly what I put you through for three years."
Tay’s eyes welled with sudden, genuine tears. The playful game was over; the raw truth was finally out in the open.
"I was so stupid, Te," New said, his voice cracking with emotion as he leaned in closer, their foreheads gently touching. "I thought avoiding your feelings was protecting our friendship. But the truth is, I was just a coward who didn't want to admit that my entire universe revolves around you. I don't want to be just your best friend anymore. I want to be the guy who buys your specific tea. I want to be the guy who holds your hand so you don't trip. I want to be your first, last, and only choice."
Tay let out a shaky, watery breath, his hands automatically coming up to grip the lapels of New’s leather jacket, anchoring himself. "You're sure? You're not just saying this because your ego was bruised?"
"Test me," New challenged softly, his lips brushing against Tay’s as he spoke. "Marry me, date me, lock me down. I’m not going anywhere. I ran after you today, Te, and I’m never going to stop running after you."
Tay couldn't hold back anymore. The three years of pining, the three days of torturous acting—it all vanished, melting into the warm night air. Tay pulled New down by his jacket, closing the final inch of distance into a deep, desperate kiss.
New groaned into the kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around Tay’s waist, lifting him slightly out of the chair as he reclaimed what was his. It was chaotic, loud, and an entirely perfect ending.
When they finally parted for air, Tay was flushed, his hair a messy bird's nest from New's fingers, but his smile was the brightest thing in the Bangkok skyline.
"So," Tay breathless whispered, looking at the mountain of red flowers on the table. "Exactly how many tulips are there?"
New smirked, kissing Tay’s forehead. "Every single one in the Sukhumvit district. Now sit down, Tay. I’m ordering the wagyu, and you’re going to let me feed you."