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The air in the practice room smelled of Sweat, convenience store ramen and five stressed teenagers driving themselves into early graves by running on sheer adrenalin. It was 2022, six months before the debut lineup was locked, and Phuwin was already convinced Pond was an existential threat. It was not because Pond was bad, hell it would have been so much easier to dismiss him if he was talentless. What pissed Phuwin was that Pond was a person who made everything look like a casual Sunday morning stroll.
Phuwin had been a trainee at the agency since he was fourteen. He had given up regular high school field trips, normal weekend dinners, and his stamina to learn contemporary, and hip-hop dances across four grueling years because he’s naturally bad at it. He treated performance like a exam he has to ace somehow to get near debut. And then came Pond.
Recruited from a high school basketball court because a scout had seen his face in the harsh afternoon sunlight. Pond had walked into the company with baggy sweatpants, zero classical foundation, and an effortless laugh that immediately charmed everyone in the building.
The first clash happened during a weekly evaluation.
They had been assigned a contemporary dance routine. Phuwin spent nights after nights perfecting the synchronization after everyone retired to sleep for the day. When they stood before the panel of executive judges, Phuwin hit every mark with clinical precision. Pond, however, missed a transition count, improvised a fluid body roll to cover it up, flashed a breathless grin directly into the head director’s and received top marks for "innate star quality and natural magnetism."
"You were so off" Phuwin had hissed in the dressing room afterward, tearing the medical tape off his legs so violently the skin reddened.
Pond had blinked, wiping sweat from the back of his neck with a gray towel, looking entirely unbothered. "Did I? Director said it looked natural though."
"Natural isn't the choreography. Some of us actually respect the moves."
Pond’s easy smile had vanished then, replaced by a sudden stillness that caught Phuwin off guard. He stepped closer, towering over Phuwin, his dark eyes narrowing.
"Natural gets people to be the center Phuwin" Pond had murmured, his voice dropping into that deep register. "Nobody buys a concert ticket to watch choreographed precision. Charm is the key."
That was the spark that made the fire which devoured everything in its path over the next three years.
Insults came rapidly without any serious reason, without any hesitation. There was always a tension between them, buzzing with fury and the pride not to lose.
🪄
By 2024, their group Twilight was a certified phenomenon.
Five members: Gemini, the endlessly cheerful youngest who acted as the group’s emotional cushion. Joong, their razor-sharp main vocalist whose comedic timing saved nearly every variety show appearance, Aou, the reliable leader who looked like an action star but mothered them relentlessly and then Pond and Phuwin.
The public didn't know about the cold war. To the fans, they were the "visual pillars" of the team. On variety shows and live broadcasts, their banter was categorized as flirtatious, and electric. When Pond teased Phuwin about his perfectionism, fans trended clips captioned He loves bothering his boy. When Phuwin rolled his eyes and shoved Pond’s shoulder, comment sections flooded with married couple behavior.
Off-camera, the reality was suffocating.
"Take it from the chorus again" Joong called out, his voice cracked and raw over the pounding beat of their upcoming title track. It was nearly midnight. They had been running the same chorus for two hours straight.
"Can we fix the spacing on the transition?" Phuwin said, breathless, his hands planted firmly on his hips. He was glaring straight at Pond’s reflection in the glass. "Someone is drifting slow, which blocks my lane for the spin."
Pond stopped wiping his brow. He tossed his towel onto the floor. "If you started your spin on time instead of waiting the lane would be clear."
"The choreo is timed to be in that moment Pond. It has been for three weeks."
"And the floor is slippery tonight. If I don't widen the cover we’ll fall" Pond turned around, facing Phuwin directly, chest heaving. "Try adapting for once instead of demanding the whole world revolve around your counts."
"I demand you do your job properly so I don't sprain my ankle spinning fast to start my part at the right time!"
"Hey! Both of you shut up!" Aou stepped between them. He looked exhausted, deep purple circles bruising the skin under his eyes. "We have work to do in the morning. I am not listening to you two bicker like bitter exes while Gemini is looking half-dead on the floor."
In the corner, Gemini and Joong were huddled together against the wall, eyes fixed on the floor. They were used to it. The entire dormitory had learned to navigate the eggshells. Dinner orders were handled through group chats so Pond and Phuwin didn't have to speak. In the company van, Phuwin always took the middle row, while Pond retreated to the back corner with his noise-canceling headphones pulled down tight.
The silence between them wasn't empty, it was dense and heavy with years of unspoken grievances.
"One more run" Aou commanded, not looking at either of them. "Clean. From the top."
They ran it. When the transition hit, Pond deliberately over-corrected, giving Phuwin a wide space, an obvious mocking that left a hole in their stage formation. Phuwin completed his spin, his teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached.
When the track cut out, nobody spoke. The tension in the room was so thick it felt like breathing underwater. Joong quietly stood up, whispered a polite "good night” and dragged Gemini out the door toward the shower rooms. Aou lingered just long enough to shoot Pond and Phuwin a look of pure disappointment before turning off the main speakers and leaving them in the dim room alone.
Pond didn't look at Phuwin. He grabbed his duffel bag, threw his jacket over his shoulder, and walked toward the exit. As he passed Phuwin’s shoulder, his arm brushed Phuwin's hard enough to be intentional, soft enough to be denied.
"Don't stay up late drilling" Pond muttered coldly under his breath, barely audible. "You’ll look like a corpse on the filming day."
Phuwin stood rooted to the spot, watching Pond's back disappear down the hall. His hands were shaking with pure fury. He wanted to scream. He wanted to demand to know why Pond always got to act like the wounded party when Phuwin was the one who’s always affected by Pond’s stubbornness. Instead, he gathered his things in absolute silence, limped down to the company van, and rode home with his forehead pressed against the freezing windowpane, utterly unaware that in less than two hours, a single link would burn the foundation of their entire five-year war right to the ground.
🪄
His shower did nothing to wash out the hum of adrenaline. He came out of the shower already irritated. His left knee was throbbing with a dull ache,the price of landing heavy on that studio floor. He strapped a gel ice pack over the joint, threw himself face-down on the mattress, and groaned into his pillow.
“You look like a corpse on the filming day.”
The words rang in his ears like tinnitus. Pond’s careless register, laced with just enough arrogance to sting. Phuwin rolled over with an annoyed hiss, snatching his phone from the nightstand to distract himself before his blood pressure spiked again.
It was 1:40 AM. He opened X purely out of muscle memory, checking the search results under their group’s official tag to monitor engagement for the comeback teasers. The notifications were moving too fast to read. Most were typical fan fare: high-definition edits of Joong’s arms, looped audio clips of Aou’s high notes, memes of Gemini falling asleep in hair-and-makeup. But right in the middle of his feed, sandwiched between promotional stills, a ten-second video caught his eye. It had over twelve thousand reposts in under four hours.
The caption read:
“i don't care what anyone says. the way pond looks at phuwin when he thinks nobody is watching will be written in history books. look at his HANDS you guys i am crying #PondPhuwin”
Phuwin’s thumb hovered over the screen. He clicked it purely out of spite. The video loaded in grainy 1080p, taken from a fan cam at the airport terminal earlier that morning. Phuwin remembered that moment, his knee had been throbbling, flashbulbs were burning holes in his vision not helping his migraines and some aggressive reporter had clipped his shoulder with a massive lens. In the clip, Phuwin stumbled forward off-balance.
A split second later, Pond’s arm cut through the chaos. Pond’s hand hovered right against Phuwin’s lower back, tensed and steady, bracing him without actually making direct contact. The moment Phuwin regained his footing, Pond pulled his hand back, curling it into an awkward fist and shoving it deep into his jacket pocket.
Then the camera zoomed into Pond’s face. His jaw was clenched tight, dark eyes dead-set on Phuwin’s back, sharp and almost angry with concern before he masked it with his usual blank stare.
“He literally wanted to catch him so bad,” the top quote tweet read.
“The secret boyfriends angst is killing me. If you want real pain go read ‘Invisible’ on AO3. It’s literally them.”
Phuwin scoffed loudly to nobody. "Delusional" he muttered, adjusting the gel pack on his throbbing knee. "People just make up whatever fits their agenda"
Still, irritation got the better of him. He tapped the linked fanfic out of sheer curiosity, ready to mock whatever dramatic garbage they’d written. The story was tagged #EnemiesToLovers #PondPhuwin #IdolAU.
Phuwin started reading chapter one with an arched brow, looking for bad dialogue. But the writing wasn't ridiculous. In fact, it was terrifyingly accurate of their real life. The author described the brutal ten-hour practices, the energy drinks for lunch, the sweat, and the suffocating silence in the back of the company van.
Then came Pond’s point of view in chapter three. Phuwin read the lines once, then twice, his thumb going still on the screen
“Phuwin thought Pond hated him for being strict. He didn’t realize Pond acted reckless because he was terrified. Every time Phuwin executed a step with razor-sharp perfection, Pond felt like a fraud who had stolen his spotlight with a lucky face and a scout's whim. Pond picked fights just to keep Phuwin's attention on him, because having Phuwin look at him with hatred was better than being looked through like he didn't belong in the room at all.”
Huh? Phuwin stared at the screen. A strange tightened in his gut.
Fraud? Pond?
Pond had walked into their company acting like he owned the entire floor. He was loud, he laughed with the directors, he got center lines with barely half the training Phuwin had endured. The idea that Pond felt like an imposter was absurd. Phuwin sneered, tapped Next Chapter, and kept reading anyway.
Chapter five was about the way Pond deliberately tracked Phuwin’s movements during choreography. In the fic, Pond widened his cover not to mess with Phuwin’s moment but because he was anticipating Phuwin collapsing on the spin because of his knees and wanted to be close enough to catch him without the cameras noticing.
Phuwin’s heart did an unprovoked thud against his ribs.
“And the floor is slippery tonight. If I don't widen the cover we’ll fall.”.
"Bullshit" Phuwin whispered aloud, tossing the phone onto the duvet. "It’s fiction. It's written by some stranger"
He rolled onto his side, glaring at the glowing device. Five minutes passed. The room was deathly quiet except for the hum of the aircon.
With an exaggerated groan Phuwin snatched the phone back up and kept reading until 4:30 in the morning.
🪄
The next afternoon, the studio was a war zone of garment racks, steam irons, and stylists running in circles for their comeback concept shoot. Phuwin walked into the dressing room with black coffee in hand and purple bruised under his eyes. He felt sleep-deprived and on edge. Gemini was already in the hair stylist chair humming along to music. Aou and Joong were huddled over a tablet reviewing the final track mix. Pond was sitting on the sofa near the back wearing a sleeveless and loose cargo pants, scrolling through his phone. Phuwin walked past him toward the wardrobe rack.
"Don't take the silver jacket" Pond said without looking up from his phone screen.
Phuwin froze. His hand paused. Normally, he would have fired back with, I wear whatever I want Pond.
Instead, the words from the damn fanfiction flared behind his eyes like a neon sign. "Why?" Phuwin asked, his voice coming out tighter and quieter than usual. Pond finally looked up. He seemed slightly taken aback that Phuwin hadn't snapped at him. Pond’s eyes flicked over Phuwin’s pale face, lingered for a fraction of a second.
"The zip decoration…. It’s got a sharp edge due to poor stitching" Pond said his tone dry. "You'll slice your forearm open the second we start doing the fast arm movements."
Phuwin reached out and touched the metal on the silver sleeve. Right near the cuff an irregular sharp edge caught his fingertip. Pond had noticed. He’d noticed before the wardrobe staff did and he’d spoken up before Phuwin put it on.
Phuwin’s mouth went dry. He pulled his hand back as if the jacket had burned him, slowly turning to look at Pond. Pond was already looking back down at his phone, but his ears was faintly flushed red chewing on gum with unnecessary aggression.
“He only looks when you turn your back.”
"Thanks" Phuwin said. It was barely above a whisper.
Pond’s fingers paused on his phone screen. He didn't reply but his shoulders visibly stiffened.
For three years, Phuwin had built a fortress around the idea that Pond Naravit was just an arrogant person who came in the middle, having it all easy and wanted to push his buttons. But as Phuwin picked up a different jacket, his pulse hammered against his throat, realization creeping down. The fans weren't making things up.
He doesn’t know if its his rational brain thinking or his sleep deprived brain loaded with fanfiction which deals with a different side of the same coin. Something felt different and Phuwin doesn’t know if its always been there but went unnoticed or misunderstood because of his way of seeing Pond through the lens of rivalry.
🪄
What started as an irritated midnight skim turned into a full-blown obsession over the next few days.
Once Phuwin exhausted the idol AUs the algorithm dragged him down the rabbit hole. It turned out PondPhuwin fans were deeply unhinged and frighteningly good at writing. They didn’t just write about dressing rooms and stage lights they wrote them into every alternate reality possible.
Phuwin told himself he was reading them purely for research. To understand why people projected these narratives onto two guys who could barely share an elevator without burning holes into each other.
The second night, it was a 90,000-word university rival AU.
In that one Phuwin was a arts major who mistakenly messes with Pond, an engineering major who makes him his slave. In chapter twelve, the author wrote a scene.
“The food Phuwin made had no salt, no human can absolutely eat it with a straight face but Pond finished almost half of ot without a complaint. Phuwin realised”
Phuwin had scoffed into his pillow. Ridiculous. Melodramatic trash.
Then came Thursday morning. Phuwin couldn’t sleep with all the Fanfiction dumped down his brain so he decided to ditch his bed early and atleast make himself useful by making some early breakfast for the team. He decided on Toast and egg scramble
The group had a radio show at 8:30 AM. Everyone started waking up at 7 smelling the aroma from the kitchen
“P’Phuwin is cooking” Gemini Yelled rushing to brush his teeth before eating. Aou and Pond arrived together and sat down at the table. Phuwin placed plates containing the eggs and toast infont of both but Aou got a call the exact minute, leaving Pond to eat first. Phuwin turned back and busied himself with the coffee maker not wanting to meet Pond’s eyes. By the time Aou came back, Pond was already half, Aou had a bite and immediately let out a sound.
“Ah- Phuwin did you forget the salt” Phuwin turned his head immediately to see Aou’s face scrunched up, dramatically turning his head between his plate and Pond’s half eaten plate.
“How did you finish half Pond, you literally add more even if the salt is correct” Aou uttered surprised.
Phuwin took a bite of the eggs himself and indeed it had no salt
“It’s fine for me” Pond muttered casually scrolling through his phone.
No. Fucking. Way.
The other night, Phuwin was reading a Mafia AU where Pond is a pretend-to-be-scary mafia and Phuwin is a calm Photographer who puts him in place. The author had written a line that made Phuwin stop breathing for a full thirty seconds
“The world I’m about to build will have only you and me”
"These people need actual psychiatric help" Phuwin muttered under his breath, clicking the phone screen off and throwing it onto the foot of his bed.He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in his hands.
It was getting inside his head. It was poisoning his perception of every single thing Pond did in his general vicinity. Phuwin’s brain, contaminated by two hundred thousand words of fan-written pining, kept wondering if it was something else. Every sharp reprimand during dance practice sounded less like an ego trip and more like someone unable to tell things out easily.
🪄
Things came down at the music video recording. The set was hot, covered in red and white bulbs. They had just finished their third take.
"Cut! Reset positions!" the director’s voice crackled through the overhead megaphone. "Take five" The heavy speakers hissed to silence.
Phuwin immediately dropped to his knees right on the mark, his lungs burning. His left knee gave an ugly throb.
A few feet away, Gemini collapsed flat on the floor with a dramatic groan while Joong and Aou immediately jogged over to the monitor to review the take. Phuwin planted one palm against the floor, gritting his teeth to push himself up before the staff noticed him lagging. His knee trembled. His grip because of his sweaty hands but before he could hit the floor a solid hand locked around his bicep. With a single pull Pond had Phuwin upright, bracing Phuwin’s weight against his own side before he could stumble. Phuwin’s breath hitched in his throat the world blurring around him
“The world I’m about to build will have only you and me”
They were completely alone in the center of the set, shielded from the staff by the props. Pond was drenched in sweat. His fingers were dug firm into Phuwin’s arm holding him in place.
"Let go" Phuwin muttered automatically, trying to pull his arm back out of instinct. "I’m fine."
Pond didn't let go. If anything, his grip tightened by a fraction, anchoring Phuwin so his bad leg didn't have to carry the weight.
"You're not fine" Pond said, his voice low, stripped of the usual mocking edge. "You're dragging your foot.. If you drop to your knees like that on the next take you're going to tear something."
Phuwin looked up intending to fire back with a defensive bite about minding his own damn business. The words died on his tongue. Up close, Pond’s dark eyes weren't narrow with irritation. They were wide and locked onto Phuwin’s face with a terror that made Phuwin’s pulse jump erratically. Pond’s brow was furrowed, jaw tight like he was physically holding back whatever he actually wanted to say.
“It’s fine for me”
The scrambled eggs without salt. The jacket. The three years of sharp comments that Phuwin had always interpreted as pure hatred. In the suffocating, red-lit heat of the studio, the pieces snapped together into a shape so clear it terrified him.
"Why do you always do that?" Phuwin asked, his voice coming out quieter from exhaustion.
Pond blinked, startled by the question. "Do what?"
"Pretend you don't care, and then watch every single thing I do." Phuwin didn't look away, holding Pond’s gaze until he saw the exact moment Pond froze. "The eggs that morning had zero salt, Pond. Aou couldn't even swallow one bite. You ate half the plate."
A dark, sudden flush crept up his ears under those heavy makeup layers. For the first time in five years, Pond looked caught. His grip tightened.
"I was hungry" Pond muttered his voice lacked all its usual bite. "Food is food"
"You drown your food in soy sauce even when it’s already salty" Phuwin challenged softly, stepping half an inch closer, testing the waters. "So why didn't you complain?" Pond went completely still.
The studio around them faded into noise, the chatter of the camera crew, the distant drone of an industrial fan. Pond’s eyes flicked down to Phuwin’s parted lips, lingered for a fraction of a second, and snapped back up with an intensity that made Phuwin’s stomach drop to the floor.
"Because you made it" Pond said.
Pond’s fingers on Phuwin’s arm slowly loosened sliding down until his fingers brushed the inside of Phuwin’s wrist.
"You never cook for anyone" Pond murmured, his eyes searching Phuwin’s face like he was trying to decipher the intention behind the question. "I wasn't going to throw it out."
Phuwin’s heart hammered against his ribs so violently he was certain Pond could feel it through their skin.
"Alright, boys Five seconds to playback!" the assistant director shouted from across the room, the sound of footsteps approaching the set. "Positions for take four!"
Pond’s hand dropped away instantly, stepping back into his mark just as Aou and Joong jogged back into the frame. Pond turned his face toward the main camera, his expression snapping back into the telegenic, fiercely cool idol persona without missing a beat. But as the intro beat began Phuwin saw Pond’s chest rise and fall in a uneven rhythm.
The fic writers hadn't exaggerated a damn thing.
🪄
The wrap dinner was a chaos of beers and smoky meat. The production company had a corner to keep them out of public sight, but the enclosed space only made the air heavier. Meat sizzled on the grill plates, beer glasses clinked, and the room was full of laughter from the choreographers, directors, and managers celebrating eighteen hours of filming. Gemini was red-cheeked and rambling about his solo stunt, Joong was enthusiastically grilling skewers, and Aou was politely pouring drinks for the head director.
Phuwin sat at the corner of the table, staring into a small bowl of soup he hadn't touched. Directly across from him sat Pond. He was eating quietly, nodding whenever someone addressed him, but his eyes kept drifting.
Every time Phuwin picked up a glass of water, he could feel Pond tracking the motion. Every time Phuwin shifted his stiff left leg under the low table, Pond’s jaw would tense a bit.
“Because you made it.”
The words from the set kept bouncing inside Phuwin’s head, loud and relentless, drowning out the chatter of the people. His ribs felt too tight, his skin too hot. The sheer weight of five years of misunderstanding colliding head-on with dozens of fanfiction scenes that turned out to be horrifyingly accurate portraits of Pond Naravit’s real feelings was suffocating him.
His mind raced with countless other similar scenarios.
Once Pond didn’t allow him to use an ointment, constantly pointing out it had a strong odor. Unable to stand Pond’s constant callouts he gave up on that ointment only to later realise he’s allergic to its main ingredient.
Maybe Pond knew it
Another day Pond literally pushed him away from his usual spot in the dancing room after arguing for so long for that place. He yelled at him and stormed out only to find Aou on the way who informed him the mirror in front of his usual practice spot is a bit loose.
Maybe Pond tried to protect him
Just because Pond doesn’t speak to him with that protective tone Aou uses or the calm tone Joong uses or even the playful tone Gemini uses doesn’t mean Pond wants him dead 6 feet under. Maybe thats how Pond is
One thing was buzzing in his mind very clearly. He’s the one who always thinks Pond wants to pull him down whenever he opens his mouth. He didn’t read into the context. Recently now that he’s actually thinking about it and asking Pond a simple question of curiosity ‘why’ instead of blindly snapping back at him, things made sense. He didn’t always carry bad intentions
He couldn't sit there anymore the maybe’s were killing him.
"Excuse me" Phuwin murmured standing up "Bathroom."Aou glanced up briefly through the barbecue smoke, waving a pair of tongs. "Hurry back, the new meat just came out." Phuwin gave a tight nod. But instead of heading down to the restrooms, he took the narrow emergency staircase leading up. The metal door at the top opened onto the restaurant's rooftop.
The night air was cold. Phuwin walked over to the waist-high railing, gripped the cold metal bar with both hands, and exhaled. He closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with his sleeve. You’re losing your mind, he told himself. You read some dumb stories on the internet and now you're convincing yourself your worst enemy is in love with you.
The metal door clicked open. Phuwin didn't turn around. The scent of Pond is unique and unmistakable..
"You're not in the bathroom" Pond said, stopping behind him. Phuwin kept his eyes locked on the moving traffic below. "I needed air."
"It's cold out here. You're only wearing that thin tshirt."
"Then don't stand out here and freeze with me" Phuwin replied, trying for the old bite that usually kept them apart. But the tone was thin and soft around the edges.
Pond didn't leave. Instead he stepped forward until he was leaning against the railing right next to Phuwin, his shoulder just inches away. He pulled his hands from his hoodie pocket, resting his arms on the metal.
"You've been acting weird all day" Pond said, keeping his eyes on the city. "Ever since that morning in the kitchen. Then on set."
Phuwin swallowed hard, exposed. "Have I?"
"You didn't yell at me once, Even at situations you usually would." Pond turned his head, his dark eyes fixing on Phuwin with an intensity that felt completely exposed. "You always yell at me Phuwin. When you don't, it means something is wrong."
The honesty was too direct. It stripped away whatever defense Phuwin had. Phuwin turned his head to meet Pond’s gaze. "Why do you care?"
Pond’s mouth twitched, the corner of his lips pulling down into a grim line. "What kind of stupid question is that?"
"I'm asking you seriously" Phuwin demanded, his voice trembling slightly before he forced it steady. "You’ve spent three years treating me like I'm a pain in your ass. We can't even sit in the same car without arguing. So why are you paying attention to what I drink? Why are you checking my clothes? Why did you choke down cold, unsalted eggs that morning like they were a gourmet meal?"
Pond stared at him, his eyes wide. The air messed up their hair. He didn't answer right away, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths.
"Answer me" Phuwin pushed, stepping closer refusing to let him be silent. "Because I’m sick of guessing. I'm sick of wondering if you hate my guts or if you're just-"
"I don't hate you!" Pond cut him off louder and harsher than either of them expected.
The sound hung between them in the cool night air raw that it knocked the breath out of Phuwin's chest. Pond closed his eyes for a split second, taking a painful breath and dragging a hand through his hair. When he lowered his hand, the facade was completely shattered. There was no arrogance. There was only Pond Naravit, looking cornered and terrified.
"I have never hated you" Pond said, his voice dropping into a desperate whisper. "Not for a single second since the day we met."
Phuwin’s heart stopped. "Then why did you act like you did?"
"Because you were excellent" Pond choked out, taking a step forward until he was towering over Phuwin, his shadow completely engulfing him. "You had four years of training, you knew every step, every count, every note. And I was just some kid they pulled off a court because they liked how I looked."
Phuwin blinked, the exact words from the first fanfiction he’d read flashing through his mind like a strike of lightning.
"Every time you looked at me back then you- you looked at me like I didn't deserve to be in the room," Pond continued, his voice cracking with years of buried shame. "And you were right. I didn't deserve it. I had to learn everything from scratch while you were already flying. I was so damn scared that if I didn't make you mad, you would just ignore me completely."
"Pond-"
"I picked fights because it was the only way you'd look at me with as someone" Pond confessed, stepping into Phuwin’s space his hands hovering at his sides as if he wanted to reach out but didn't dare. "And then we debuted. And every day you got better, and sharper, and prettier, and I realized I wasn't fighting for your respect anymore. I was just trying not to drown."
Phuwin stared at him, his lips parted, his heartbeat in his ears. "Drown in what?"
Pond gave a breathy laugh, looking down at Phuwin’s mouth before his eyes locked with Phuwin’s burning with a tenderness.
"In you Phuwin" Pond whispered the words swallowed by the small gap between them.
“I’m drowning in you”
"I've been in love with you for three years. I ate those fucking eggs because you made them with your own hands, and I would have eaten the whole plate if Aou hadn't walked in. I watch your knee because the thought of you getting hurt makes me sick. I watch everything you do because I don't know how to exist in the same room as you without doing nothing and staying still with my feelings."
Pond stopped his chest heaving, his eyes wide and bracing for the blow waiting for Phuwin to laugh, to push him away, to hit him with the icy clapback he’d grown used to over the years.
Phuwin didn't say a word.
Instead he reached out, his fingers trembling, and grabbed the front of Pond’s shirt, the fabric bunching up in his hands.
Pond gasped freezing on the spot. "Phuwin- I’m I’m so sorry if I hurt you by this, I’m sorry if I made you feel hated I-"
“Shut up” Phuwin whispered. He yanked him down.
Their lips collided clumsily in the cold wind a sudden heat that shattered every bit of distance they had spent years building. Pond let out a sharp surprised noise against Phuwin’s mouth, his shock lasting for half a second before his hands came up holding onto Phuwin desperately, trying not to drown.
The kiss was messy, starved, and breathless. Pond kissed him like a man who had been dying of thirst, his lips parting against Phuwin’s, deepening the contact with a possessive hunger that made Phuwin’s knees go completely weak. Phuwin tilted his head back his fingers coming up to Pond’s hair, pulling him closer.
The cold city traffic buzzed around them, but Phuwin couldn't feel it. All he could feel was Pond’s mouth against his, Pond’s racing heartbeat and the overwhelming truth that the entire internet had known before he did. When Pond finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Phuwin’s both of them were panting, their breath mingling. Pond’s hands were shaking against Phuwin’s waist, his dark eyes wide with utter bewilderment.
"You..." Pond rasped, his voice thick with emotion, his gaze searching every inch of Phuwin’s flushed face for regret. "You don't hate me?"
Phuwin let out a breathless laugh, resting his palms against Pond’s chest and feeling the wild beating of his heart.
"I did" Phuwin murmured, his lips curving into a soft, genuine smile that Pond had never seen directed at him before. "Until few days ago I understood how much I misread and misunderstood things about you."
Pond blinked, completely lost. "What?"
"Don't worry about it" Phuwin whispered, rising onto his tiptoes and pressing a quick peck to his cheek. "Just kiss me again."
And for the first time since they met, they didn't argue at all.
-🪄
Epilogue
It happened on Thursday night, right after the whole unsalted scrambled eggs incident. Phuwin had gone to bed feeling thoroughly rattled, his brain short-circuiting every time he remembered Pond quietly eating his plate without a single complaint. Unable to sleep, he’d unlocked his phone, pulled up the browser’s incognito tab, and clicked into a new top-rated fic tagged #RivalsWithBenefits #PondPhuwin.
He only meant to read a few paragraphs to clear his head. He didn't check the content warnings.
By chapter four, the story took a sharp detour and Phuwin’s finger froze mid-scroll.
Pond backed him up against the locker door until the cold metal seeped through Phuwin’s thin shirt. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide. Pond’s hands weren't gentle they caged him in, rough palms sliding up Phuwin’s ribcage, fingers digging into the soft flesh of his waist with a bruising grip. When Pond’s mouth finally crashed down, he kissed Phuwin like he wanted to strip the insults right out of his tongue, teeth catching Phuwin’s lower lip until it bleed.
Phuwin gasped, his hand jerking so violently the phone slipped from his fingers and landed flat on his face.
"Fuck" he hissed his cheeks were burning so hot he thought the skin might blister. His chest heaved under his oversized shirt, heart hammering in a disordered rhythm against his ribcage.
What the hell was that? Who writes this stuff? Why did people read this?
He picked the phone back up, intending to close the tab immediately, clear his cache, and throw the device across the room. But his eyes betrayed him. They darted back to the glowing screen, skimming down the paragraphs like a man hypnotized.
Phuwin gripped the front of Pond’s sweat damp shirt, torn between shoving him away and dragging him closer. Pond’s thumb stroked his cheeks, gravelly voice murmuring filth against Phuwin’s swollen mouth
'You talk too much, Phu. Let me shut you up.'
Phuwin shoved his face hard into his pillow, letting out a squeaky groan.
It was vivid. It was descriptive. And the worst part the part that genuinely terrified him down to his bones was how terrifyingly easy it was to imagine. He knew the exact register of Pond’s voice when it dropped. He knew the width of Pond’s hands, having them against his waist during choreography transitions for years. To see those exact details weaponized into a scene of filth made Phuwin’s stomach knot.
He locked the phone screen, threw it facedown on the floor rug and yanked the duvet completely over his head.
"You are sick" he whispered into the dark his voice trembling as he forced his breathing to slow down. "You are officially sick in the head" He tossed and turned until nearly dawn and the next morning when Pond casually stood beside him near the door. Phuwin had to bite the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood just to keep himself from staring directly at Pond’s lips.
fin🪄