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Por had never believed in destiny, soulmates, or any other cosmic fairytale meant to convince two people they were destined for each other.
He was never a fan of love. It wasn’t that he was bitter or a cynic by nature, but when his parents separated, he witnessed first hand how his mother was completely shattered by his father. Right then, he made a promise to himself: he would never fall in love.
To him, love was destructive. It was a slow burn that consumed you until you were entirely hollowed out, leaving nothing but wreckage in the end.
After all, how could he believe that the affection people offered him was genuine and sincere when his very first heartbreak had been his own father?
Well, that was the old Por.
That was before he met the sleeping, handsome man lying beside him — his husband, Tee, the one person who had managed to make his guarded heart believe that true love actually existed.
The towering walls Por had built to protect himself had been effortlessly crumbled by this man.
“Good morning, pretty,” Tee murmured, his voice thick with sleep.
He had noticed that Por had been awake for a while, staring fondly at him.
“Good morning, love,” The smaller answered softly.
“You’re up early. You okay?” A trace of worry lined Tee’s voice, but Por only offered a low, breathless laugh in response.
“No, love. I'm just thinking,” he said.
Tee shifted his position, pulling his smaller husband gently into his lap. Por reached up, fixing his husband’s messy morning hair before leaning down to press a soft kiss against his lips.
“Thinking about what?” the taller man asked curiously, though the protective tone lingered.
“Thinking about the first time we met. And the second, the third, the fourth... and our fifth encounter, right before you finally decided to flirt with me,” Por said teasingly.
Tee couldn’t help but playfully roll his eyes, earning a light, affectionate punch on the shoulder from his husband.
“Well, at first, I really thought it was just a series of coincidences,” Tee said, pulling Por closer until their noses brushed together, a gesture that never failed to melt the older man. “But when we bumped into each other for the fifth time, I knew I had to make a move. And look at us now, happily married.”
His husband was right. At first, Por had also written it off as a pure accident. He had never expected that the guy he bumped into at a flower shop, the stranger who helped him fix his flat tire, the boy he ran into at a convenience store, the man he crossed paths with at a crowded club, and the guy who finally asked to share a coffee with him would turn out to be his husband.
Or perhaps, soulmates and destiny really did exist. And their love story was the living proof.
The First Encounter: March 03, 2018
Por was preoccupied, scanning the rows of blooms to find the perfect bouquet for his mother’s 50th birthday.
He had been standing in the flower shop for an hour, paralyzed by indecision. It wasn't just that he knew absolutely nothing about flowers; he was looking for something specific. He knew his mother would appreciate anything he gave her, but he wanted a flower with a deep, unspoken meaning.
He wanted to express profound gratitude, to thank her for raising him single-handedly, ensuring he never felt lacking.
Now that he was an adult, he wanted her to feel that they had survived, that they had successfully built a beautiful life together even after his father walked out.
Engrossed in his thoughts, Por didn’t notice the space shrinking around him until his shoulder collided squarely with another man’s.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Por said sincerely, offering a polite bow to the stranger.
When he didn’t receive an immediate reply, He looked up.
The stranger wore a black leather jacket over a fitted white t-shirt. Por had to admit, even silently, that the man was incredibly handsome, possessing a small face, prominent nose, full lips and striking, deep sharp eyes.
But what truly caught Por’s attention were the moles scattered across his face like stars resting there.
He blinked, slightly startled at himself for openly checking out a complete stranger.
“That’s fine. Just be careful next time,” the man replied.
Despite the rugged, bad-boy aesthetic, his voice was surprisingly calm and grounded. Before Por could lose his train of thought, he offered one last apology.
“Yeah. Sorry again.” Por turned to leave, but the stranger’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Pink roses. They’re the perfect way to show gratitude to someone.”
The smaller turned back, looking at the mystery guy in confusion.
How could he possibly know what he was looking for?
“What do you mean?”
“I heard you on the phone earlier, saying you wanted something that symbolizes gratitude. So, pink roses,” the man answered simply.
Por remembered his earlier call with his best friend. The stranger must have overheard.
Before the smaller could find his words, the man’s phone began to ring. Without waiting for a response, the stranger turned his back and walked away to answer it.
Por stared at his retreating back, muttering to himself,
“A bit rude and definitely an eavesdropper... but wait, pink roses really work?”
The Second Encounter: March 10, 2018
Por resisted the urge to kick his car tire again, thoroughly frustrated. He was supposed to be at an important party, but he had been stranded on the shoulder of a deserted road for the past hour.
He had a spare tire in the trunk, but he had absolutely no idea how to change it. To make matters worse, his phone was dead, and the road was quiet, offering little hope for a good Samaritan. He stood by the hood, irritable, waiting for a miracle.
He had just tossed his bag into the passenger seat when a motorcycle pulled up and idled in front of his car.
“Need some help?” a voice called out.
Por flinched slightly, instantly on guard, fearing the worst on a dark road. As the rider dismounted and removed his helmet, Por’s heart raced, only to stop entirely when the bright headlights revealed the stranger’s face.
“You?” Por gasped.
“Mr. Flower Guy,” the mysterious man said, a faint, amused smile playing on his lips.
The smaller frowned deeply at the moniker. “What did you just call me?”
“Mr. Flower Guy. You’re the guy from the flower shop, right? I didn’t expect to run into you out here.”
“Well, I didn't expect it either. And as you can see, I am thoroughly stuck,” Por snapped, the memory of how the man had abruptly walked away during their first meeting flashing through his mind.
“Do you have a spare?” the man asked, ignoring the attitude.
“Yes. Why?”
“Need a hand?”
“Well, obviously, yes,” Por muttered.
He couldn’t understand why this guy irritated him so much, or why the sight of the moles on his face – which only heightened his annoying good looks, made him so defensive.
The man simply chuckled. “Where’s the spare? Let me handle it.”
“Why are you even helping me?” Por asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.
“Because you clearly need it. Stop being stubborn and let me help.”
Por crossed his arms, stepping back to let the annoying stranger work. He had to admit he had no choice.
As he watched, he noticed how efficient and practiced the man was with the tools. When the stranger discarded his leather jacket, revealing full tattoo sleeves blooming down his arms, Por caught his breath.
How can someone look this perfect?
The smaller man quickly shook the thought away. He was supposed to be annoyed, not infatuated.
“All done. Where do you want the old one?” the man asked, wiping his hands. Por silently pointed to the trunk.
“How much do I owe you?” He asked formally, not wanting to feel indebted.
The man let out another low chuckle. “A ‘thank you’ will be more than enough.” He picked up his helmet and began walking back to his motorcycle.
“Wait,” Por called out, stopping him. “Thank you. For helping me tonight, and... for the flower recommendation last week.”
“No worries,” the rider replied over his shoulder.
“Are you sure just a thank you is enough? I can treat you to coffee or something,” He offered, his pride refusing to leave it at that.
“Save it for next time, Mr. Flower Guy. Drive safe.” And just like their first encounter, the man accelerated into the night before Por could reply.
“Unbelievable,” He muttered as he got back into his car. “Does he make it a habit to just walk away from people? And what does he mean ‘next time’? As if we'll ever see each other again.”
Still, as he drove off, Por couldn’t deny the strange coincidence.
First the flowers, now a flat tire.
The universe felt entirely too small.
The Third Encounter: March 15, 2018
It turned out the motorcycle stranger was a prophet, because a mere five days later, the universe crossed their paths for the third time.
Por stood frozen, wondering if he was the target of an elaborate cosmic joke. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“And here you are again, Mr. Flower Guy,” Tee said, an intrigued, brilliant smile breaking across his face.
Por had simply been hungry and decided to grab a quick bite at the convenience store near his apartment complex. He had just sat down at an empty table when a shadow fell over him, and a voice asked if the seat was taken. Ready to decline, Por had looked up, only to find the exact same tattooed stranger staring back at him.
“What are you even doing here?” He blurted out, instantly wanting to hit himself for asking such a ridiculous question.
“Buying food?” the man answered with a laugh. “I was hungry, this was the closest place, so I’m going to sit down, okay?”
Por couldn’t even find the words to object as the man set his tray down. Feeling entirely exposed and flustered, he gathered his things. He would just eat back at his condo.
“Where are you going?” the stranger asked, looking up.
“Home. I can’t eat here,” Por said, stepping past the table. But as he tried to pass, the man spoke quietly, pausing the older boy in his tracks.
“Teetee.”
Por blinked, turning back. “What?”
“My name is Tee. This is our third time meeting, and we don’t even know each other's names.” The taller looked up from his seat, his eyes locked onto Por, who stood hovering nervously by the table.
“Well, I don’t usually give my name to strangers,”
Por said, trying to regain his aloof posture.
Tee let out his signature laugh. ”Remember when I told you to save that favor for next time? This is it. What’s your name?”
Por rolled his eyes, though his heart gave a slight, traitorous flutter. “I already said thank you. We’re even.”
“Fine. I’ll just keep calling you Mr. Flower Guy then.”
The smaller exhaled sharply, defeated by the sheer persistence. “You are incredibly annoying. Fine. I’m Por. Happy?”
“Nice to meet you, Por. For the third time,” Tee said, his tone softening into something genuine. “I hope it won’t be the last.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, Mr. Annoying, but this is definitely the last time,” Por countered, though the bite was missing from his voice.
He turned and walked out of the store, leaving Tee laughing softly behind him.
The Fourth Encounter: March 22, 2018
Fate apparently favored Tee, because a week later, the impossible happened again.
First a flower shop, then a dark highway, then a neighborhood convenience store and now, a high-end club in the city. To make matters more chaotic, it turned out their friend groups knew each other. Within minutes of arriving, their separate tables had been merged into one large, roaring party.
“I told you we’d meet again, Por,” Tee murmured close to his ear.
They were seated side-by-side on the lounge couch, their friends completely absorbed in loud conversations and rounds of drinks. Por and his team were out celebrating a massive architectural project they had finally secured after a grueling month of work.
“Sadly, yes,” Por replied, trying to sound completely uninterested.
But even he couldn’t deny reality: Tee looked devastatingly attractive tonight. He was the type of guy who could bring anyone to their knees with a single wink.
Por took a slow sip of his drink to calm his nerves.
“Congratulations on getting the project, by the way. So, you’re an architect?” Tee asked.
Por sighed, realizing there was no escaping the conversation tonight, nor did he truly want to risk raising his friends’ eyebrows by leaving early. “Thanks. And yes, I am.” He answered
“Interesting. I’m actually planning to remodel my tattoo shop, and I’ve been looking for an architect. Are you tied up with on-going projects right now?”
Por professional interest was piqued. “So you're a tattoo artist? That explains the sleeves.”
“Yeah. But I can wait if you’re busy. I’m not in a massive rush.”
Just then, the rest of their table stood up, shouting over the music as they headed toward the dance floor. Por, feeling a bit lightheaded from the alcohol, opted to stay behind. Tee stayed right beside him, shifting closer as the booth emptied out.
“As I was saying,” Por cleared his throat, suddenly hyper-aware of their proximity. “I can recommend some brilliant colleagues of mine if you need it handled sooner.”
Tee finished his shot in one smooth motion, setting the glass down before turning his full attention to the older man. “I want you to do it. And like I said, I can wait.”
Por felt a flush creep up his neck that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Desperate to steer the conversation away from the intense look in Tee’s eyes, he asked, “A tattoo shop? What’s the vision?”
“I want to rebuild the layout because I’m opening a coffee shop and library inside it,” Tee explained, his eyes lighting up with genuine passion. “A lot of times, people are waiting around for hours while their partners or friends get inked. I want a space where they can relax, have a good brew and read books. It’s been a dream of mine for a while. I even took barista courses for it.”
Por watched him speak, completely captivated. This ‘annoying’ guy was full of surprises. “What about the flowers and the mechanical skills? Don't tell me you went to school for those, too.”
“My mom absolutely loves flowers, which is why I was at that shop the first day getting a birthday gift for her. And the car stuff? My older brother owns a mechanical repair shop, so I practically grew up around engines.”
As the night wore on, the initial friction dissolved into effortless conversation. They traded details about their lives—learning that Por was actually a year older, sharing stories about their university days, their hobbies, and their mutual love for their families. By the time their intoxicated friends drifted back to the table to announce it was time to leave, the two of them were completely lost in their own world.
“It was really nice talking to you tonight, Por,” Tee said sincerely as they stepped out into the cool night air outside the venue.
“Same to you, Tee,” The smaller replied, offering a genuine, warm smile. He realized the younger man wasn’t annoying at all; beneath the leather jacket and tattoos, he was just a deeply caring, devoted son, much like himself.
“Drive safely, okay?” Tee said, stepping toward his friends.
“You too. Take care.”
“See you around?” Tee called out.
“See you,” Por answered.
They exchanged one last smile before parting ways. But in the haze of the night and the abrupt departure of their groups, neither had thought to ask for the other’s phone number or social media handles. A realization that left both of them filled with immense regret the following morning.
“I really thought I’d lost my chance after that night,” Tee murmured against the quiet of their modern bedroom.
They were still tangled in the sheets, the morning sun casting a warm glow over them.
“You were so whipped for me, Mr. Wanpichit,” Por teased, leaning down to leave a trail of soft, butterfly kisses across his husband’s cheekbones.
“I was” Tee admitted without an ounce of pride, catching Por’s gaze. He reached up, his thumb gently caressing the smaller’s cheek. “I promised myself that if the universe ever gave me a fifth chance, I wouldn't let you walk away without a proper date.”
“And the universe delivered,” Por whispered.
The Fifth Encounter: April 20, 2018
“One large Americano,” the barista called out. Por stood up from the cafe bench, reaching out his hand to claim his order.
A full month had passed since the night at the club.
After crossing paths four times in a single month, Por had subconsciously expected the pattern to continue, but the universe had gone entirely silent. He hated to admit it to himself, but he missed the younger man.
Learning about Tee’s dedication to his mother had completely dismantled Por’s initial biases. He deeply regretted not getting his contact information, assuming they would just naturally bump into each other again.
“Thank y—" Por froze mid-sentence, his fingers brushing against another hand that had closed around the exact same coffee cup.
He turned, ready to politely clarify the mistake, but the words died in his throat.
“Tee?”
“Por?”
They spoke simultaneously, their voices dropping in pitch.
“Hey. It’s... been a while,” Tee said, a sudden nervousness overtaking his usual confidence.
“Yeah. It really has,” Por replied, suddenly feeling incredibly shy under the taller man’s gaze.
“You take it. I’ll just order another one,” Tee offered quickly, sliding the cup toward him.
An endearing, awkward silence settled between them. Sensing the curious glances of the people waiting in line behind them, a flustered Por took the cup and took a step back. “Thanks, Tee”
He turned to leave, but before he could take a second step, he felt a gentle, reassuring grip on his elbow. He turned back slowly to face the younger man, noticing the faint crimson flush creeping up Tee’s neck.
“Can I buy you a coffee? A proper one, where we actually sit down and talk?” Tee asked, his sharp eyes full of quiet hope.
Por bit his lower lip to keep from smiling too widely, though his stomach was completely overrun by butterflies. “Sure. Let’s do it.”
From that afternoon onward, they never lost touch again. Tee explained how he had been buried in the logistics of launching his business, frustrated that he had no way to reach out to Por, never expecting they would share a favorite local cafe.
Their coffee dates quickly evolved into dinners, weekend drives, and late-night phone calls. They bared their souls to one another, speaking of their families, their past heartbreaks, and their deepest vulnerabilities. And Por watched in beautiful disbelief as the fortress he had spent a lifetime building to protect his heart dismantled itself at Tee’s feet.
They dated for a beautiful, transformative year before realizing they wanted forever. On their fourth anniversary, Tee dropped to one knee, and Por’s, tears streaming down his face, said yes.
Now, they had been married for a year, and Por had never once regretted letting Tee into his life.
“I love you,” Tee whispered, breaking the silence of the bedroom as he looked deeply into his husband’s eyes.
“I will forever be thankful to the heavens, or destiny, for letting me meet you five separate times. I know none of it was an accident. It was the universe telling me that you were meant for me, and I for you.”
A tear slipped down Por’s cheek, born of pure happiness. “Thank you for coming into my life. Thank you for loving me so completely. Even though I came from a broken home, you accepted every part of me. You proved to me that not all men are like my father... that you would never turn your back on me. I love you so much, Tee.”
The taller pulled him tightly into a warm, fierce embrace, burying his face in Por’s hair and pressing a tender kiss to the crown of his head. “I love you. And just like I promised you on our wedding day? even if the whole world walks away, I never will. Thank you for letting me in, Suppakarn Nimitparkpoom”
Tee leaned down, sealing the promise with a deep, lingering kiss.
When they finally pulled apart, Por lifted their intertwined hands into the morning light. The simple, elegant bands of gold caught the sun, gleaming perfectly on their ring fingers, the ultimate symbol of a love that defied all his old fears.
Por finally understood. There was an invisible string that had tied him to Tee from the very first moment in that flower shop, pulling them together through every accidental encounter until they reached this very bed.
Whether people called it destiny, fate, or simply an extraordinary love, it didn’t matter.
They were exactly where they were supposed to be.