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The last day in Singapore was dragging on.
That wasn’t unusual.
Two days of concerts, fan benefits, rehearsals, and very little sleep tended to have that effect.
Still, while waiting for the next fan in line, Pond glanced down at his phone.
Phuwin
“Did soundcheck end already?”
A little higher:
“I saw a clip from the concert.”
And before that:
“Looks like it’s hot in there.”
Earlier:
“Just got out of a meeting.”
“I’m so sleepy.”
“Hana fell asleep on top of my backpack.”
None of the messages were important.
None of them required an immediate response.
But they were there.
Little pieces of an ordinary day.
Things Phuwin could have easily saved until Pond came back.
Yet he’d spent the last three days sending them anyway.
Pond smiled.
Because he knew exactly what it meant.
⸻
The line moved forward.
Another fan stepped up to the table.
They exchanged greetings, a few words, a smile.
Then she asked:
“Phi Pond, can I ask something?”
“Of course.”
“When you and Phuwin are apart…”
Pond was already smiling.
“Who misses the other more?”
The answer came instantly.
“Phuwin.”
The fan laughed.
“That fast?”
“Yep.”
“You’re that sure?”
“Very.”
“Why?”
Pond thought about the messages.
The random updates.
The unnecessary questions.
The way his phone lit up throughout the day with little snippets of Phuwin’s life.
Not because they were important.
Because Phuwin wanted to share them with him.
Because he missed him.
Even if he’d never admit it.
“I know him,” Pond said simply.
And honestly, that was explanation enough.
⸻
The night before his flight back, Pond received a video call.
Phuwin
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“Can’t I call you?”
Pond laughed.
“You never call for no reason.”
Phuwin thought about it.
“I wanted to know how the concert went.”
“You asked me that an hour ago.”
“Yeah, but now you can answer faster.”
Pond couldn’t stop smiling.
“Sure.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re making that face.”
“What face?”
“That face.”
“The one I make when I miss you?”
Silence.
Just for a second.
But Pond noticed.
“Only three days,” Phuwin muttered.
“Mhm.”
“And I saw you right before your flight.”
“Mhm.”
“You’re dramatic.”
The call ended thirty seconds later.
Pond laughed the entire time.
⸻
The next afternoon, he landed in Bangkok.
The first thing he did after leaving the airport was send a message.
“Home?”
The reply came almost immediately.
“Yeah.”
“Coming over.”
“Okay.”
Simple.
Very Phuwin.
⸻
When the door opened, Pond felt something settle inside his chest.
Like the last three days finally clicked back into place.
Phuwin stood there in an oversized T-shirt, hair slightly messy, looking entirely too familiar.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Just looking at each other.
Readjusting to being in the same room again.
Then Phuwin broke first.
“Are you coming in or are you planning to block my doorway forever?”
Pond grinned.
“What a warm welcome.”
“I try.”
He stepped inside and dropped his suitcase near the wall.
When he looked up again, Phuwin was still standing there.
Waiting.
Pond crossed the distance between them.
Slowly.
Naturally.
Like he belonged there.
His arm slipped around Phuwin’s waist.
Immediately.
Effortlessly.
“I missed you.”
The words came out before he could stop them.
And something in Phuwin’s expression softened.
Just a little.
“It was only three days.”
“Mhm.”
“Not even that long.”
“Mhm.”
“We talked every day.”
“Mhm.”
Phuwin rolled his eyes.
“You’re impossible.”
Pond smiled.
Then leaned in.
The kiss was soft.
Brief.
Gentle.
Like something he’d been carrying around for three days waiting to give back.
When they pulled apart, neither of them moved very far.
And this time, it was Phuwin who closed the gap.
Another kiss.
Just as short.
Just as soft.
Like a quiet I missed you too.
Without actually saying it.
⸻
They ended up on the couch afterward.
And that’s when Pond knew for certain he’d been right.
Because Phuwin wouldn’t stop talking.
Not in an obvious way.
Not clingy enough for anyone else to notice.
Just…
Talking.
Telling him about meetings.
About filming.
About something ridiculous that happened during an event.
A funny conversation.
A series he’d started watching.
A series he’d already dropped.
Little things.
Small stories.
Three days’ worth of moments he’d been saving.
“…and then it turned out the complete opposite happened,” Phuwin was saying.
“Mhm.”
“It was ridiculous.”
“Mhm.”
“Are you listening?”
“Yes.”
“Then what did I just say?”
Pond smiled.
“You missed me.”
Phuwin groaned loudly.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Don’t start.”
“I’m just saying.”
“No.”
“You’ve been catching me up on every single thing that happened while I was gone.”
“Because you were gone.”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sure.”
“Nothing.”
“Of course.”
A pillow hit him in the face.
⸻
Later they tried watching a show.
Tried.
Because at some point Phuwin ended up leaning against him.
Head on his shoulder.
Their legs touching.
One hand absentmindedly resting over Pond’s.
Completely unconsciously.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Maybe it was.
Because around Pond, Phuwin never had to think about it.
Never had to maintain the calm, reserved image everyone else knew.
He could just be.
And if being meant sitting closer than necessary, then so be it.
⸻
The show kept playing.
Neither of them were paying attention.
“You know,” Pond said eventually.
“Hm?”
“This fan in Singapore asked a really good question.”
Phuwin sighed dramatically.
“I knew we’d come back to this.”
“Because I was right.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Pond.”
“Phuwin.”
“You’re still wrong.”
Pond lifted their joined hands.
“What about this?”
“A hand.”
“And this?”
He pointed at the head currently resting on his shoulder.
“A shoulder.”
“And this?”
His arm tightened slightly around Phuwin’s waist.
Silence.
Just for a moment.
Long enough.
Pond smiled immediately.
“Aha.”
“Shut up.”
“Aha.”
“It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Sure.”
“Nothing.”
“Of course.”
Phuwin buried his face in Pond’s neck.
Mortified.
And Pond felt his chest ache with affection.
Because this was the version of Phuwin nobody else got to see.
The one who unconsciously moved closer.
The one who sought comfort without realizing it.
The one who would never admit how much he’d missed him.
Pond tilted his head.
Pressed a kiss into his hair.
And whispered:
“I missed you too.”
He felt Phuwin relax instantly in his arms.
Then, after a few seconds, came the quietest reply.
“I know.”
Pond smiled.
Because yes.
He’d answered that fan correctly.
And after spending the entire afternoon with Phuwin practically glued to his side, he was more certain than ever.