Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The night dripped with gasoline and bad blood.

Two cars idled at the starting line, their engines snarling like caged animals. The drivers—Por and Teetee—sat behind their wheels, hands tight on their gear shifts, barely blinking as they stared each other down across the stretch of cracked asphalt.

They had adrenaline. Too much of it.

Por's jet-black Nissan Skyline rumbled like a storm waiting to break, its underglow casting an eerie blue shimmer across the pavement. Across from him, Teetee's blood-red Dodge Challenger growled in response, its exhaust spitting heat into the cool night air. The crowd pressed in close, anticipation thick enough to choke on. Wagers were made in whispers; no one dared say aloud who they thought would win.

This wasn't just about speed. It never was.

Teetee cracked his knuckles against the wheel, smirking. "You sure you're ready for this? Wouldn't want you to embarrass yourself again."

Por's jaw tightened. "Funny. I was thinking the same thing."

A girl in fishnets and a cropped leather jacket stepped forward, scarf in hand, hips swaying like she owned the night. She glanced at both of them, eyes glinting with something close to amusement.

Then she raised her arm.

Engines revved, tires screamed against pavement.

The scarf fell.

For a split second, silence—then the world detonated into motion.

Por and Teetee launched forward, steel and fury, both determined to leave the other in the dust.

Because only one of them was crossing that finish line first.

And the other?

He'd be left chasing ghosts.

Por's Skyline shot forward, tires biting asphalt. He had the launch, gripping the road with a perfect start. But Teetee was right there, his Challenger roaring like a beast, raw power propelling it forward. Side by side, metal to metal, they tore through the city's underbelly, neon lights streaking past like ghosts.

Por gritted his teeth, shifting gears at the perfect moment, his turbo spooling hard. He thought he had him. He knew he had him.

Then, Teetee dropped the hammer.

With a violent surge, the Challenger lunged ahead, its supercharger screaming as he ripped past Por in the final stretch. The crowd's cheers became a blur, drowned by the deafening roar of victory.

Por saw the taillights disappearing ahead of him.

And just like that, it was over.

Teetee crossed the finish line first, his fist punching the air as the race ended.

Por slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the bitter taste of loss sharp on his tongue.

Tonight, Teetee was the fastest.

And in this world, that was all that mattered.

The race was over. The crowd was still buzzing, people cheering, engines idling, money exchanging hands. But Por barely heard any of it.

He sat in his Skyline, fingers gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. His heart still pounded, not from speed, but from frustration. He had him. He had him—right until Teetee decided to pull some magic out of nowhere and steal the win in the final stretch.

A loud knock on his driver's side window shattered his thoughts.

Por exhaled sharply before rolling it down. And there he was—Teetee, leaning against the car with that insufferable grin, arms crossed, still riding high on victory.

"Damn, P'Por," Teetee drawled, shaking his head in mock sympathy. "That was almost impressive. Almost."

Por unclenched his jaw. "Get off my car."

Teetee whistled low, stepping back just enough to hold his hands up. "Relax. No need to be salty. I mean, I get it. Losing sucks."

Por exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm. "You got lucky."

"Pfft. Luck? Nah." Teetee tapped his temple. "That was pure skill, baby. Experience. Instinct. Something you clearly need a little more of."

Por rolled his eyes and opened the door, stepping out. The crowd around them was thinning out, but a few people still hung around, waiting to see if anything would pop off between the two.

Teetee stretched lazily, completely unbothered. I was watching you in my mirror—looked like you really thought you had me for a second. "That must've hurt, huh?"

Por glared at him. "I swear, Teetee, if you don't shut up—"

"What?" Teetee tilted his head, teasing smile widening. "You gonna race me again? Lose again?"

Por stepped closer, had to raise his head a bit as the rival in front of him is tad bit taller than him, fists itching to do something that wasn't shifting gears. "Keep talking and we'll see if you're still smiling when I put your ass in the pavement."

Teetee laughed, loud and easy. "Damn, now we're talking! You're finally showing some fire P'Por! Maybe next time, you'll actually show some of that on the track instead of in a parking lot." He grinned, 

"Stop calling me 'phi' "

"why not? I should be polite when talking to the elderly right?"

Por huffed, shaking his head. "Polite my ass. You're unbearable, Fucking annoying"

"And you're too easy to mess with." Teetee gave him a playful tap on the cheek before stepping back toward his Challenger, which earned him a dirty glare "Don't take it too hard, yeah? We both know you'll just spend the next week in that garage of yours, tuning the hell outta your car, trying to come back stronger."

Por crossed his arms. "...And?"

Teetee winked. "And I love that for you. Gives me something to beat next time, too."

With that, Teetee climbed into his car, revving the engine just to be obnoxious before peeling off into the night, leaving Por standing there with a mix of frustration, determination—

And, if he was honest with himself, just a little bit of respect.

Next time, Teetee wouldn't be laughing.

>>>>>>>>>

Por pulled into the long, curved driveway of his family's estate, his Skyline's engine growling low as he killed the ignition. The place was the complete opposite of where he had just been—no smell of gasoline, no deafening engines, no adrenaline. Just a pristine, lifeless mansion bathed in soft golden lights, the kind of house that looked like it belonged in a magazine instead of being lived in.

He barely had time to step out before the front doors swung open.

"Por." His father's voice was sharp, controlled, the kind of tone that usually preceded a long, exhausting lecture.

Por shut the car door a little harder than necessary. "What?"

His father stood at the top of the marble steps, still in his tailored suit despite the late hour. His mother wasn't far behind, arms crossed, wearing an expression of thinly veiled disappointment.

"Where have you been?" his father demanded. "And don't lie."

Por wiped a hand down his face, already over this conversation before it even began. "Out."

His mother sighed. "It's almost 2 AM, Por. Out where? With who?"

Por scoffed. "What, you want me to give you a list?"

His father's jaw clenched. "We know what you've been doing."

That made him pause.

"We got a call," his mother added, eyes narrowing. "From Uncle Somchai."

Por exhaled sharply. Of course. Uncle Somchai was well-connected in all the places that mattered—including the underground racing scene.

His father stepped forward. "Illegal racing, Por? Reckless driving? Do you have any idea what this could do to our family's reputation? To your future?"

"There it is," Por muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets. "The 'family reputation' talk. I was wondering when that would show up."

His father's eyes darkened. "You think this is funny? You think this is just some childish rebellion? When will you get it through your head that you can't just do whatever you want?"

Por laughed humorlessly. "I don't know, Dad. Seems like you do whatever you want all the time."

His mother's face hardened. "That is not the same thing."

"Right," Por scoffed. "Because when you break the rules, it's called 'business.' But when I do it, it's 'irresponsible.'"

His father's nostrils flared. "This stops now."

Por tilted his head. "Or what?"

His father straightened, voice cold. "Or you lose everything. The car. The money. All of it."

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. His mother looked away, almost like she didn't want to see what would happen next.

Por's fingers twitched at his sides. His Skyline, his racing, the thrill of the streets—it was the only thing in his life that felt real. And now they were threatening to take that away.

But he knew his father. He knew how this game was played.

Por forced a smirk. "You won't do it."

His father's lips pressed into a thin line. "Try me."

Por held his gaze for a long, tense moment—then turned on his heel, heading for the house without another word.

Tonight, he had lost to Teetee.

But this fight with his parents?

That wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

He will prove to them that he can thrive without their money.

>>>>>>

The first time Por saw Teetee, he already knew the guy was trouble.

He was the kind of racer who didn't just win—he owned the night.

Por spotted him before he even stepped into the circle. Teetee was at the center of it all, leaning against his blood-red Dodge Challenger, surrounded by girls who laughed a little too hard at his jokes and guys who watched him like he was some kind of legend.

Cash was passed around like candy. The scent of burnt rubber clung to the air. Engines revved in the distance, but this was where the real action was—the aftermath of another Teetee victory.

Por didn't care about any of it. The noise, the people, the attention.

He just wanted to win.

So, he did what no one else seemed brave (or stupid) enough to do. He walked straight up to Teetee, hands shoved in his pockets, and said:

"I want in."

The circle quieted just a little. Teetee barely glanced up at him at first, still counting a fresh stack of cash, but then his eyes flicked over Por's crisp white sneakers, his dark hoodie, and finally to his face.

He smirked. "And who the hell are you?"

"Por" he pauses "Suppakarn Jirochtikul"

Teetee raised an eyebrow, then whistled low. "Damn. Even the name sounds rich."

Some people laughed. Por didn't react.

Teetee's gaze slid past him to the sleek black Nissan Skyline parked at the edge of the lot. "Lemme guess—Daddy's money?"

Por exhaled slowly. He'd heard it all before. "Does it matter?"

Teetee finally gave him his full attention, pushing off his car. "Nah. But it's funny. You don't look like a street racer."

"You don't look as fast as people say," Por shot back.

That earned a few "oohs" from the crowd. Teetee's grin widened.

"I like you, Por." He dragged out the name like he was testing the taste of it. "But see, there's a problem. I don't race nobodies."

Por held his gaze. "Then race me, and I won't be one."

Teetee looked him over again, like he was trying to figure something out. Then his smirk turned downright devious.

"Wait, how old are you?"

Por frowned. "Why does that matter?"

Someone in the crowd whispered something, and suddenly Teetee burst out laughing.

"No way. You're older than me? By three years?" He clutched his chest like the revelation had physically wounded him. "Holy shit. That's amazing."

Por's brow twitched. "And?"

Teetee grinned, tilting his head. "So that means you're my Phi Por now?"

Por immediately scowled. "Don't call me that."

Teetee let out a low whistle, clearly enjoying himself. "Damn, Phi Por, you should've said something sooner! I gotta show some respect." He pressed his hands together in an exaggerated wai, bowing dramatically. "Hope you don't mind racing against your little Nong Teetee."

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

Por clenched his jaw. "We're not close. Drop it."

"Aw, come on, Phi Por—"

Por stepped closer. "I said drop it."

The amusement in Teetee's eyes didn't fade. If anything, it burned brighter.

"Ohhh, this is gonna be fun." He clapped Por's shoulder like they were old friends. "Alright, Phi Por, let's see what you got."

And just like that, the first race was set. Por didn't know what pissed him off more—Teetee's cocky attitude, his stupid grin, or the fact that the nickname was definitely going to stick.

But one thing was certain. He was going to wipe that smirk off Teetee's face. 

>>>>>>>

Teetee hated Por.

From the moment he laid eyes on him, Teetee decided that Por was just like the rest of them—those rich, cold, untouchable people who thought they were better than everyone else. It didn't matter how good-looking he was, or how well he handled himself on the track. Teetee had seen enough of Por's distant stares, his sharp suits, his expensive car, and the way he barely acknowledged anyone unless he absolutely had to.

People like Por only looked down on people like him.

That's what Teetee believed.

Until he started noticing things.

The first time it happened, Teetee almost missed it. He had just finished wiping down his bike when he saw Por, off to the side of the racing street, near an alleyway. A small tabby cat rubbed against his leg. Por didn't react at first, simply glancing down. Then, as if checking if anyone was watching, he reached into a bag and pulled out a small food container.

Teetee blinked.

Por crouched down, opening the container, revealing shredded chicken. Without a word, he placed it on the ground and lightly scratched the cat's head before walking away as if nothing had happened.

Teetee frowned.

Maybe it was just a one-time thing. Maybe it was some expensive pet cat.

But then it happened again. And again.

Teetee started noticing how Por would go out of his way to feed stray animals, sometimes leaving bowls of water near the street. He never lingered, never let anyone catch him in the act. It was almost like he didn't want to be seen doing it.

And then there was the blind man.

Teetee had been leaning against his bike, chatting with some of the racers when he saw Por walking past the street musician—the old man who played the erhu near the racing site. The man had a small hat laid out in front of him, collecting whatever change or small bills people were kind enough to give.

Por walked by without stopping.

Or at least, that's what Teetee thought .

But then he saw it—Por's hand dipping into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the folded bills inside.

A second later, a quiet movement.

Por let the money slip into the hat without so much as breaking his stride. He didn't even pause to acknowledge it. Didn't wait for the man to notice.

Teetee swallowed, an unfamiliar warmth pressing against his chest.

But he shook it off.

No. He still hated him.

Por was still a cold, rich bastard who acted like he was better than everyone else.

So what if he had a soft spot for stray animals and struggling old men?

Teetee was not going to let himself feel anything about it.

Absolutely not.

>>>>>>

Teetee barely registered the pain anymore—the sharp kicks to his ribs, the fists colliding with his face, the curses spat at him from all directions. He had won, fair and square, but some people just didn't know how to take a loss. His breath came out ragged as he forced himself to move, stumbling forward, breaking free from their grasp. He ran.

His legs burned as he tore through the darkened streets, the sound of footsteps thundering behind him. They were gaining on him. His vision blurred as he almost tripped over himself, the pavement rushing up to meet him—

But then a hand grabbed him.

A strong pull, a sharp tug, and suddenly he was yanked into a narrow alleyway, slammed against a wall, a firm grip keeping him steady.

Teetee sucked in a breath, heart hammering in his chest, eyes wide as they met familiar dark ones.

"Phi?" it became a habit to call him that, even though they are not close at all.

Por didn't answer immediately. He glanced out of the alley, watching as the group of racers ran past, oblivious to where their target had disappeared. Only when the footsteps faded did Por let go, stepping back as if even touching Teetee for too long might be beneath him.

"You're an idiot," Por muttered, arms crossing.

Teetee scoffed, wincing slightly when it pulled at a fresh bruise. 

"Wow. A 'thank you, Por' would be nice."

Teetee ignored him, instead reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small bottle of antiseptic and a roll of bandages. Without a word, he tossed them at Teetee, who barely caught them in time.

"Patch yourself up."

Teetee raised an eyebrow, a smirk creeping onto his face despite the pain. "Wow, you do care. I'm touched, Phi Por."

Por's expression twitched, and Teetee could tell he regretted ever getting involved. "Shut up."

Still, Teetee took the supplies, sitting down on an overturned crate as he started dabbing antiseptic onto his wounds. Silence stretched between them, thick with awkwardness. They weren't friends. Hell, they weren't even on good terms. But Teetee would be lying if he said he wasn't a little grateful.

Then it happened.

A soft whimper echoed through the alley.

Por turned his head, and Teetee followed his gaze, spotting a small, scrawny dog curled up in the corner. Its fur was patchy, its ribs too visible beneath its thin skin.

Por crouched down.

Teetee held his breath as Por hesitated, then slowly reached out. His fingers brushed against the dog's head, gentle, careful. The dog flinched at first but soon melted into the touch, pressing into Por's palm with a tired sigh.

Something in Teetee's chest twisted.

He had seen Por up close before, but never like this.

His eyes—so often sharp and cold—were softer now, almost warm. His usual tight, unimpressed lips had loosened slightly, forming the smallest of pouts. It made Teetee want to stare longer. To commit this expression to memory.

He wanted to see it again.

He needed to see it again.

Without thinking, he blurted out, "Aren't you disgusted?"

Por turned to look at him, the softness vanishing instantly. His face became cold again, eyes unreadable, waiting for Teetee to continue.

"These kinds of things aren't suitable for rich people like you," Teetee muttered, voice quieter now. "Don't you feel these things are dirty for you?"

Por's answer came swift, steady. "Money doesn't make someone clean, and poverty doesn't make someone dirty. Dirt washes off. But a rotten heart—no amount of wealth can fix that."

Teetee blinked, dumbfounded. Of all the things he had expected from some rich, sophisticated kid, wise words like that were not one of them.

Silence hung between them, but Teetee couldn't let it rest. There was something else that had always nagged at him about Por, something that didn't make sense.

"Then why are you here?" Teetee finally asked. "You don't need to be in a place like this. You have enough money, you don't need to struggle to find more. Is it because you have nothing to do with your life? Because you're bored?"

Por's gaze flickered toward him, unreadable. "To prove a point."

Teetee frowned. "Prove what?"

Por exhaled sharply, his voice quieter but firm. "That I don't need my parents to arrange everything for me."

Teetee didn't know why, but something about that answer stuck with him

The next day, he took it upon himself to test P'Por, to annoy him a little, to playfully mock him just to see how he'd react. And the moment Por's face twisted in annoyance, brows furrowing, lips pressing into a thin line—Teetee felt an odd thing happen in his chest.

It was entertaining.

Por must have noticed the change in him because his gaze sharpened. "Don't take what I did to heart," he said flatly. "I'm not someone willing to open up."

But it was too late.

Teetee had already made up his mind.

>>>>>>

Por had perfected the art of silence.

It was his greatest weapon, his best defense. When people talked too much, he didn't respond. When they tried to get close, he shut them out.

It worked on everyone.

Except for Teetee.

"Phi Poooor~"

Por tightened his grip on his drink, exhaling slowly through his nose. He didn't look up. Didn't acknowledge him. Maybe if he ignored him long enough, Teetee would get bored and—

A finger poked his cheek.

Por's eye twitched.

"Oh? A reaction?" Teetee grinned like he'd just won a prize. "I was starting to think you were a statue."

Por finally looked at him, his gaze sharp as a blade. "What do you want?"

Teetee leaned against the bar, chin propped in his hand. "Dunno. Just felt like bothering you."

Por turned away. "Then go bother someone else."

"Nah."

Silence.

Por focused on his drink, trying to drown out Teetee's presence.

Tap.

Por's patience wore thinner. "Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"Poking me."

Teetee smirked. "Why? Does it bother you, Phi Por?"

Por clenched his jaw. Yes. Obviously. But he wouldn't give him the satisfaction of saying it out loud.

Teetee, unfortunately, was an expert at reading reactions.

He laughed, shameless and delighted, before nudging closer. "Man, you're really no fun. How do you live like this? No smiling, no talking—just brooding all the time."

Por ignored him.

Teetee, unfazed, kept going. "You should try relaxing a little. Here—let's practice. Smile for me."

Por gave him the blankest stare known to mankind.

Teetee cackled. "Holy shit, that was terrifying."

Por sighed, finally standing up. "I'm leaving."

Teetee hopped up too, trailing after him. "Ooh, where are we going?"

"We are not going anywhere."

"Lame."

Por stopped abruptly. Teetee almost bumped into him.

Por turned, voice low and cold. "Do you ever shut up?"

Teetee grinned, leaning in slightly, as if daring him to do something about it. "Nope."

Por closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and walked away.

Teetee watched him go, hands stuffed in his pockets, still smiling.

Por could pretend all he wanted, but Teetee knew.

He'd be back to annoy him again tomorrow.

>>>>>> 

Teetee wasn't sure when it started—this habit of watching Por. Maybe it was back when they were still enemies, when his goal had been to rile him up and make him snap. Or maybe it was even earlier than that, before he even realized he wanted to annoy Por, when he had first noticed the little details about him.

Por wasn't just the cold, rich kid he initially thought he was. Up close, he was something else entirely.

Sharp, defined features made up his face, but instead of looking severe, there was something about him that softened those edges. Maybe it was the way his dark, slightly wavy hair always seemed tousled like he had just run his fingers through it in frustration. Or maybe it was the way his lips—often pressed in a thin, unimpressed line—would sometimes purse ever so slightly, almost like a pout, when he was thinking.

Teetee liked that.

He liked how Por's pale skin contrasted with the black leather jacket he always wore, like he was trying to look tougher than he was. He liked how his eyes, sharp and unreadable from a distance, had this quiet depth to them when he thought no one was looking. And Teetee especially liked the way Por's jaw clenched whenever he teased him, the little flicker of irritation that was always followed by something else—something closer to reluctant amusement.

It was stupid. He was being stupid. But even now, as Por stood a few steps away, casually leaning against his car with arms crossed, eyes scanning the crowd, Teetee couldn't help but stare.

Por must have felt his gaze because he suddenly turned to him, sharp eyes narrowing. "What?"

Teetee grinned, rocking on the balls of his feet. "Nothing," he drawled, eyes lingering on Por's slightly furrowed brows. "Just thinking you're kind of pretty, that's all."

Por scoffed, turning away as if the comment didn't affect him. But Teetee caught it—the faintest hint of red dusting the tips of his ears.

And that made watching him all the more fun.

an idea popped on Teetee's mind. "Heyy, P'Por. wanna bet?"

"Not interested." cold, unfazed.

"Why, you're afraid of losing the bet? that weak, P'Por?" Teetee saw how Por's jaw clenched as he stared right into Teetee. Damn, even though Por was shorter than him, sometimes he can feel himself burn under his gaze.

Por scoffed, "game on"

Teetee leaned in closer, a smile plastered on his face, teasing and daring.

Por smacked his face.

>>>>>>>>

Por should've known better than to take that bet.

The terms had been simple—whoever won the race would get to boss the loser around all day. Por had been so sure he'd win this time. So sure.

But once again, Teetee had pulled off one of his reckless, last-second moves and stolen the victory right out from under him.

Which was how Por found himself standing outside a brightly colored arcade at noon, arms crossed, while Teetee beamed at him like a kid on his birthday.

"Alright, Phi Por," Teetee said, stretching like he had all the time in the world. "First order of business—you're carrying all my stuff today."

He shoved a bag into Por's arms.

Por stared at it. "What the hell is in this?"

Teetee grinned. "Snacks. Drinks. A change of clothes—"

"I am not your assistant."

Teetee gasped, hand over his heart. "Are you backing out of our honorable bet? Wow, Phi Por. And here I thought you were a man of your word."

Por's fingers twitched, but he said nothing. He hoisted the bag over his shoulder and muttered, "What's next?"

Teetee clapped. "Arcade time!"

The next two hours were hell.

Teetee dragged Por from game to game, making him play ridiculous things like dance battles and claw machines. He forced Por to hold onto his stuffed prizes like a personal storage unit. When they got to the basketball hoops, Teetee bet that if he made more shots, Por had to buy them ice cream.

Por lost.

Again.

Sitting on a bench with two cones of soft serve, Por sighed. "This is a waste of time."

Teetee took a dramatic bite of his ice cream. "Correction—your time. I'm having a blast."

Por wanted to wipe that smug smile right off his face. But instead, he sat there, eating his ice cream, pretending he wasn't thinking about the fact that Teetee looked way too pleased with himself.

They spent the rest of the afternoon at the mall, where Teetee made Por hold his shopping bags, tried on clothes just to show off, 

Por refused to smile.

Teetee didn't seem to care.

By the time the sun set, Por's patience was at its limit.

"Are we done?" he asked as Teetee slurped on his third boba tea of the day.

Teetee hummed, tilting his head. "Hmm. I dunno. I kinda like bossing you around. Maybe I'll extend this to two days."

Por shot him a glare that could've frozen hell over.

Teetee laughed, nudging his arm. "Relax, Phi Por. You survived. And hey, it wasn't that bad, was it?"

Por said nothing.

Teetee smirked. "Guess we'll have to do this again sometime."

Por scoffed, turning away.

"Shut up," Por muttered, already regretting every decision that led him here.

Teetee, of course, was having the time of his life. "Okay, okay—next stop, photo booth."

Por groaned. "Absolutely not."

Teetee dragged him inside anyway.

The next five minutes were hell. Teetee made ridiculous poses while Por stood stiffly beside him, glaring at the camera. At one point, Teetee grabbed his arm and leaned dramatically against him.

Por snapped.

"Would you stop touching me?" he growled.

Teetee just smirked. "Make me."

Por's patience shattered.

With zero hesitation, he reached out, grabbed Teetee's face, and squished his cheeks together.

Teetee made a muffled noise of protest—then burst out laughing.

The photo clicked at that exact moment.

Por let go instantly, scowling. Teetee wiped at his face, still giggling.

"That was so worth it," Teetee said, grabbing the printed photos. "Look, Phi Por! A memory of our beautiful day together."

Por stared at them.

In every single one, he looked miserable.

Teetee, meanwhile, looked like he was having the time of his life.

Por exhaled, running a hand down his face. "I hate you."

Teetee patted his shoulder. "Aw, I love you too, Phi Por~"

Por shoved his hand off. "We're leaving."

Teetee laughed, stuffing the photos into his pocket before happily following him out.

Yeah. He was definitely doing this again.

>>>>>>>

Por had had it.

The arcade was bad enough. The ridiculous bets, the stuffed animals, the boba run—fine. He endured.

But the matching outfits? The pink hoodie? The photo booth disaster?

No. Absolutely not.

So when Teetee—still laughing at their cursed photos—turned to him and said, "Alright! Next stop—karaoke!" with that insufferable grin, something inside Por snapped.

"NO."

Teetee blinked. "No?"

Por's voice was low, dangerous. "I have done everything you've asked me to. I have carried your crap, worn this stupid hoodie, played your stupid games, and wasted my entire day. But I am not doing karaoke."

Teetee took a slow sip of his boba, staring at him. Then he lowered the cup and smirked.

"...Are you mad, Phi Por?"

Por's eye twitched.

Teetee took a step closer. "You are, aren't you?" Another step. "Aw. Look at you, all grumpy."

Por clenched his fists. "I swear to—"

Before he could finish, Teetee poked his cheek.

That was it.

Por lunged.

Teetee yelped, barely dodging as Por actually tried to grab him. He darted back, laughing hysterically.

"Phi Por, wait—"

Por did not wait. He stalked forward, seething. "You think this is funny?"

"Yes," Teetee wheezed, practically giddy as he dodged another grab.

Por charged. Teetee barely managed to swerve out of reach, knocking over a chair in the process.

"Oi!" Teetee yelped, scrambling over a table. "Violence wasn't part of the bet!"

"Neither was torturing me for hours," Por snapped, grabbing the edge of the table.

Teetee bolted, weaving through the crowd.

Por chased after him.

At this point, people were staring

Teetee, still running, turned to look at Por over his shoulder—and smirked.

"Catch me if you can, Phi Por~"

Por saw red.

The next second, he moved fast. He lunged, catching Teetee's wrist in a tight grip.

Teetee yelled. "WAIT, WAIT, WAIT—"

Por yanked him back—

And the next thing Teetee knew, he was pinned against the nearest wall, Por's grip tight on his wrist, eyes dark with pure rage.

For the first time that day, Teetee shut up.

Por leaned in, voice dangerously low. "I. Have. Had. Enough."

Teetee swallowed.

Por was so close.

And mad as he was...

He looked good like this.

Teetee, still grinning, tilted his head. "Damn, Phi Por. If you wanted to get me against a wall, you could've just asked."

Por let go instantly, shoving him back.

"You're insane," he growled, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

Teetee just laughed, stretching like he hadn't just been manhandled in public.

"That was the most fun I've had all day," he said, beaming.

Por exhaled sharply. "I'm going home."

Teetee waved. "See you at the next race, Phi Por~"

Por flipped him off over his shoulder and stormed out.

Teetee watched him go, grinning ear to ear.

Yeah.

He was definitely making another bet soon. 

>>>>>>

The moment Por crossed the finish line, a rush of emotions surged through him. He won. For the first time, he finally won against Teetee. But before he could fully revel in his victory, he heard the whispers.

"Teetee let him win."

"That was such a lame stunt. He didn't even try."

The murmurs grew, and with them, a fury he hadn't expected. Por clenched his fists, his jaw tightening as he stormed toward Teetee, who was leaning against his car, wiping the sweat off his brow like this was just another race.

"You let me win," Por accused, voice sharp, cutting. "Why?"

Teetee didn't answer at first. He just stared at Por, eyes unreadable, before glancing away. That hesitation only made Por's anger flare hotter.

"Why, Teetee?" His voice cracked, softer this time, almost hurt. "You think I needed your pity?"

That made Teetee snap his gaze back to him, something flickering in his expression. Then, before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "I saw your father in the crowd. Right before the race started."

Por stiffened.

Teetee exhaled sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Didn't you want to prove a point?" His voice wasn't mocking. If anything, it was careful. Thoughtful.

Por was too stunned to say anything. He swallowed thickly, his mind racing. Slowly, he managed to find his voice again, quieter this time. "How did you know that was my father?"

Teetee tilted his head slightly, eyes scanning Por's face. Then, with a small smirk, he said, "You have his eyes and lips, P'Por. And that fancy suit? Please. I knew he was your father the moment I saw him. I assumed he wanted to watch you, so that's why I did it."

Por's breath caught in his throat, but before he could respond, Teetee turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

—

Later that night, when Teetee returned to his garage, exhausted and slightly numb, he found a pack of gummy bears and a small container of Vicks caefully placed on the couch.

He frowned, picking them up. "Who—?"

One of his friends shrugged. "Some rude guy. He came, tossed it on the couch, and left."

Teetee stared at the items in his hands, then let out a soft chuckle. He knew exactly who that was.

Smiling, he popped a gummy bear into his mouth, the sweetness lingering as he leaned back against the couch, the weight of the night melting away.

Chapter Text

The second Thomas stepped onto the racing grounds, Por froze.

No.

No, no, no.

He knew that face. That damn smirk. That sharp, calculating gaze scanning the crowd like he already owned it.

Thomas Chungmanirat.

Por's blood ran cold.

Teetee, of course, had no idea. He just grinned, arms crossed, watching Thomas approach.

"So," Thomas drawled, stopping right in front of Teetee. "You're the famous top racer, huh?"

Teetee tilted his head. "Mmm, depends. Who's asking?"

Thomas smirked. "The guy who's gonna take that title from you."

Por grabbed Teetee's arm before he could respond.

"No," he said sharply.

Teetee blinked, looking down at him. "No?"

Por's grip tightened. "You're not racing him."

Teetee scoffed, pulling his arm free. "The hell are you talking about?"

Por turned to Thomas, voice dropping. "You have no business here."

Thomas only chuckled. "Oh, come on, Por. That's no way to greet an old friend."

Por clenched his jaw.

Teetee looked between them, raising a brow. "Wait. You two know each other?"

Thomas smirked. "Oh, we go way back."

Por ignored him, grabbing Teetee's wrist this time, more desperate. "Don't race him."

Teetee huffed. "And why not?"

Por yanked him down slightly, lowering his voice. "You don't know him like I do. His family—he—they don't play fair."

Teetee rolled his eyes. "Por, it's just a race."

Por's grip tightened. "It's never just a race with them."

Teetee stared at him. Por's voice was different—tighter, more urgent.

For a split second, he actually considered listening.

Then Thomas chuckled.

"What's wrong, Por?" he taunted. "Afraid your little boyfriend is gonna lose?"

Por flinched.

Teetee immediately turned back to Thomas, scoffing. "Oh, now I'm definitely racing you."

Por snapped.

"Teetee, dammit!" He shoved him back, barely moving him because—damn it—Teetee was taller, but it was enough to make his point. "You don't get it. I'm serious—"

Teetee sighed, rubbing his temples. "You're always serious."

Por grabbed his collar this time, yanking him down.

"I am not joking," he hissed. "You do not want to race him."

Teetee studied him, finally—finally—noticing the way Por's fingers were trembling slightly against his shirt.

But it was too late.

Thomas only laughed. "See you at the starting line, hotshot."

Then he walked off.

Teetee pulled away from Por's grip, stepping back.

"I'm doing this," he said, firm. "And I'm winning."

Por swallowed.

No matter how much Teetee won, no matter how good he was—

This wasn't just about racing.

And that's what terrified him.

Por stood on the sidelines, heart pounding against his ribs as the engines revved.

Teetee didn't listen.

Teetee never listened.

And now he was on the starting line, lined up against Thomas Chungmanirat.

Por clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.

He doesn't play fair.

And Teetee was walking straight into it.

The signal dropped.

The cars launched forward.

Por barely breathed as the two tore down the track, engines screaming, headlights flashing against the dark.

At first, it was clean. A battle of speed, skill.

Teetee was winning.

But then—

There it is.

Por saw it before anyone else. The way Thomas drifted closer. Not to pass—but to corner.

Por's stomach dropped.

Move, Teetee. MOVE.

Thomas jerked the wheel.

Por saw it happen like slow motion—Thomas's front fender clipping Teetee's rear.

The crowd gasped.

Teetee's car skidded.

Por's heart stopped.

For a second, it looked like Teetee might recover. The wheels screeched, the car wobbled—

Then Thomas did it again.

Por shouted, stepping forward like he could somehow physically stop this.

The impact sent Teetee spinning.

His car swerved violently—

Then crashed.

Metal crunched. Smoke burst into the air.

Por was running before the dust even settled.

"TEETEE!"

The crowd was still shouting, people pushing forward, but Por shoved past them, his only focus the wreckage ahead.

The car had slammed into the barriers, front completely mangled, but—

Por saw movement inside.

Relief flooded him, only to be drowned out by pure rage.

Teetee was alive.

But this was exactly what Por had tried to stop.

He reached the car just as Teetee shoved the door open, coughing from the smoke, hands shaking.

Por didn't even let him get out properly.

He grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward.

"You idiot," he spat, voice shaking with fury. "I told you—"

Teetee blinked at him, still dazed. "Por—"

Por shoved him against the car. "I TOLD YOU HE DOESN'T PLAY FAIR!"

Teetee exhaled sharply, gripping the side of the car to steady himself.

And yet—

Despite everything.

Despite the wreckage. The crash. The danger.

He still had the nerve to smirk.

"Damn," he rasped, voice rough from the smoke. "Guess I should've listened, huh?"

Por let go of him immediately, stepping back like he might actually throw a punch if he didn't.

He turned away, trying to breathe before he did something reckless.

Teetee watched him for a second. Then, through the chaos, he muttered:

"...You were really scared, huh?"

Por's fists clenched. He didn't turn back.

"Shut up," he muttered.

Teetee exhaled, leaning against the wreckage. His legs were shaking too much to stand properly.

Por hated him.

Hated him for being reckless. Hated him for making him care so damn much.

And most of all—

He hated Thomas for being right.

Because Teetee did lose.

Just not the way Thomas meant.

>>>>>>>

Teetee hissed as Por dabbed at the cut on his arm with disinfectant. "Ow, shit, Por—"

"Shut up."

Teetee blinked.

Por's voice was sharp, but his hands—his hands were shaking.

They were in the garage now, away from the crowd, away from the noise. Teetee was sitting on the hood of an old car while Por stood over him, patching him up with way too much force for someone who was supposedly helping.

"You're so fucking reckless," Por muttered under his breath, dabbing a little harder than necessary.

Teetee flinched. "Okay, okay, I get it—"

"No, you don't get it!"

Teetee froze.

Por's hand was still on his arm, fingers curled slightly. His breathing was uneven. And for the first time all night—

Teetee noticed the way his lip trembled.

The way his fingers twitched when they brushed over the long cut.

The way his eyes—normally so cold, so unreadable—were shining, his teeth digging into his lower lip, like he was forcing himself to keep it together.

"...P'Por?"

Por swallowed thickly, blinking a few times before roughly tearing open the bandage wrap.

"You could've died," he muttered, voice tight. "Do you even realize that?"

Teetee opened his mouth, but for once—he had nothing to say.

Por shook his head, looking away. "I told you. I told you he doesn't play fair. But you didn't listen. You never listen." His voice cracked slightly, just barely. "And now look at you."

He pulled the bandage over Teetee's arm, movements stiff. "I should let you suffer," he muttered. "I should let you clean your own damn wound and leave you to rot in here."

Teetee tilted his head. "Then why aren't you?"

Por didn't answer.

Teetee smirked slightly, trying to lighten the mood. "You're not secretly in love with me, are you, Phi Por?"

Por smacked the side of his head.

"Ow!"

"Shut up."

Por finished wrapping the bandage, tying it off too tightly. He pulled back, finally stepping away. His hands curled into fists at his sides, like he didn't trust himself to not reach for Teetee again.

Teetee flexed his fingers, watching him closely.

Por was still biting his lip.

Still blinking a little too fast.

Still looking anywhere but at him.

And Teetee—

For the first time in forever—

Didn't tease.

"...I'm sorry," he muttered instead.

Por finally looked up, startled.

Teetee exhaled, rolling his shoulder. "I mean. For real."

Por just stared at him.

Then he scoffed, turning away. "Good," he muttered. "You should be."

Teetee watched him leave, arms still stinging, but his chest—his chest felt warm.

Because for all of Por's anger, for all his nagging—

At the end of the day, he still stayed.

And Teetee had a feeling he always would.

>>>>>>>

Dinner at the family estate was always the same—quiet, formal, and filled with the clinking of silverware against expensive porcelain.

Por barely touched his food. His mind was elsewhere.

His parents sat across from him, composed as always. His father, Thanom Thanawat, was reading something on his tablet, only glancing up occasionally to take a bite of his meal. His mother, was more focused on dabbing at her lips with a napkin than on actually eating

Por waited until his mother set down her glass of wine before speaking.

"Thomas Chungmanirat is back in Thailand."

That got their attention.

His father's hand paused over his tablet. His mother raised a delicate brow.

"Oh?" she said, voice mild. "I wasn't aware."

Por's fingers tightened around his fork. "Do you know why?"

His father finally looked up. "I assume it's to oversee his family's business dealings here."

"And those are?" Por prompted.

His father sighed, setting his tablet aside. "The Chungmanirats have been expanding. They've secured multiple new ventures, including real estate and high-end imports. It's nothing surprising."

Por leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. "And Thomas?"

His mother exchanged a glance with his father before replying. "As far as we know, he was supposed to stay in Hong Kong. His parents didn't mention him coming here."

Por frowned. That meant Thomas wasn't here for business.

He was here for something else.

"Why the sudden interest?" his father asked, sharp gaze narrowing slightly.

Por hesitated. He knew better than to show his hand too soon.

"No reason," he said evenly, reaching for his water glass. "Just ran into him."

His father didn't look convinced, but he didn't push.

His mother, however, smiled faintly. "Be careful with the Chungmanirats, Por," she said, swirling her wine. "They always play their games a little too well."

Por forced a nod.

But something in his chest felt tight.

Because he knew—this wasn't a game.

Not this time.

>>>>>>>

Por had always been hard to read—stoic, cold, keeping everyone at arm's length. But lately?

Lately, he was acting off.

He was distracted. Always checking his phone. Always disappearing to who-knows-where. Teetee would catch glimpses of him at the garage, staring into space, fingers tapping anxiously against his knee. That wasn't normal.

Not for Por.

And the most un-Por-like thing of all?

Teetee had asked him what was up. Genuinely asked.

And Por had shut him down.

"It's none of your business, Teetee."

Just like that. No teasing, no insults. Just a cold, final stay out of it.

And for the first time ever, Teetee had actually listened.

Kind of.

It wasn't like he was interfering. He was just... noticing things. Keeping track of the places Por went. The people he talked to. The way his jaw clenched every time Thomas's name came up.

He wasn't getting involved.

He was just watching.

And if that meant accidentally following Por to some shady-looking parking lot at 2 a.m.?

Well.

That was just a coincidence.

Totally.

Teetee exhaled, slouching lower behind a row of parked motorcycles. Por was standing a few feet away, talking to someone—low voice, stiff posture. He couldn't make out the words, but he didn't like the way Por's fingers curled into fists at his sides.

Something was going on.

And Teetee didn't know what yet.

>>>>>>>

Por wasn't stupid. He'd noticed Teetee hovering. Watching. Pretending to be casual while very obviously keeping tabs on him.

He just didn't expect him to strike now.

It was late, and the garage was nearly empty. Por had just finished a call, his mind tangled in a mess of half-formed thoughts, when—

"Por."

The voice came out of nowhere.

Por turned, only to find Teetee standing right there—too close, too focused. His usual lazy smirk was gone, replaced with something much sharper.

Something serious.

Por straightened, his muscles tensing instinctively. "What?"

Teetee crossed his arms. "I could ask you the same thing."

Por's jaw tightened. "That doesn't make sense."

"Neither does you sneaking around like you're in some bad action movie."

Por rolled his eyes and turned away. "Go home, Teetee."

But Teetee didn't move.

"You're investigating something, aren't you?"

Por's fingers twitched.

"Thomas?" Teetee pressed. "His family?"

Por exhaled slowly, keeping his expression blank. "It's none of your business."

"Bullshit."

That caught him off guard.

Por's gaze snapped back to Teetee, and—there it was. The same sharp look, the same unwavering stare. Teetee knew something. Maybe not everything, but enough.

And Por—

Por felt his chest tighten.

"Why do you care?" he muttered, voice quieter than before.

Teetee scoffed. "Because you're acting weird, and you won't tell me why." His brows furrowed, frustration laced in his tone. "I know you're trying to keep me out of it, but guess what? That's not how this works."

Por swallowed, glancing away. His pulse was a little too fast, his grip on his phone a little too tight.

Teetee saw.

And for once—he didn't tease him for it.

He just sighed, tilting his head. "Look, I'm not asking you to tell me everything. Just..." He hesitated. "At least tell me if you're in trouble."

Por clenched his jaw.

Because that? That was the problem.

He wasn't sure yet.

But it felt like he was getting too close to something.

Too close to something he couldn't drag Teetee into.

So he forced his expression back to neutral, meeting Teetee's eyes with a carefully constructed mask. "I'm fine."

Teetee didn't buy it.

But after a moment, he exhaled, stepping back. "Liar."

Por didn't reply.

Teetee shoved his hands in his pockets, watching him for another second before shaking his head. "Fine. Keep your secrets, Phi Por." His voice was light, teasing—but his eyes weren't.

And then he turned and walked away.

>>>>>>>

The tension in the air was thick. The engines had cooled, the smell of burnt rubber lingered in the night air, and all eyes were on Teetee and Thomas.

Thomas dangled the small photobooth picture between his fingers, his smirk sharp under the dim streetlights. "I believe this belongs to you," he said, voice laced with amusement.

Teetee's jaw tightened. He recognized that picture—the only picture he had with Por, the one he'd lost. And now it was in Thomas's hands.

Thomas twirled the photo before holding it up between two fingers. "But if you want it back, we should make this fun. Race me for it."

Teetee didn't hesitate. "Fine."

But before he could step forward, a firm grip latched onto his wrist. He turned, startled to see Por standing beside him, his fingers tight around Teetee's arm.

"No," Por said sharply. His voice was low, urgent. "You're not racing him."

Teetee furrowed his brows. "What?"

Por's grip didn't loosen. "I said, you're not racing him."

Something flickered in his eyes—something serious, something almost desperate. Teetee had never seen this kind of expression on Por's face before.

"Why the hell not?" Teetee scoffed. "It's my picture. I should be the one to—"

"I'll take you to another photobooth."

Teetee blinked. "What?"

Por's ears were red. He looked straight ahead, avoiding Teetee's gaze as he spoke again, quieter this time.

"I'll let you take me to another photobooth," Por mumbled, jaw clenched.

For a moment, Teetee just stared. His brain short-circuited.

Did Por just voluntarily suggest taking pictures with him?

Thomas let out a laugh. "Wow. That's a first. Didn't take you for the sentimental type, Por."

Por shot him a glare, but Thomas only grinned wider, clearly entertained.

Teetee, on the other hand, was struggling not to beam like an idiot.

"Oh?" He tilted his head, dragging out his words with a smirk. "You wanna take more pictures with me, Phi Por?"

Por finally looked at him, flustered but trying to play it off with a glare. "I didn't say I wanted to. I said I'd let you."

Teetee leaned in slightly, enjoying this way too much. "Same thing, Phi Por."

"Shut up."

But Teetee didn't shut up. He grinned, rocking on his heels, completely forgetting about the picture Thomas was still holding.

"Oh man, this is great. This is amazing. I never thought I'd see the day," Teetee mused, dramatically placing a hand over his chest. "Phi Por, willingly offering to be my photobooth buddy."

Por groaned, rubbing his temple like he already regretted this decision.

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I guess I lost my entertainment for the night." He carelessly tossed the photobooth picture toward Teetee. "Here. Since your boyfriend gave me a better show."

Teetee caught it without thinking, barely registering Thomas's words before Por immediately tensed beside him.

"He's not my—"

But before Por could finish, Teetee slung an arm around his shoulders, cutting him off with a laugh. "You heard him, guys! Por's gonna take pictures with me!"

The crowd murmured in amusement, and a few cheers rang out. Por groaned again, shaking off Teetee's arm, but his ears were still bright red.

Teetee tucked the recovered picture safely into his pocket, smirking to himself.

Oh, he was definitely gonna make Por keep that promise.

>>>>>>>

The moment they stepped into the cozy Japanese restaurant, the scent of grilled meat and warm broth filled the air. Por exhaled slowly, trying to compose himself after everything that had just happened. He was still reeling from the fact that he had actually let Teetee drag him into a photobooth again—and worse, he had blurted out that he would. What the hell was wrong with him?

Teetee, on the other hand, was in an obnoxiously good mood. He plopped down across from Por at their booth, grinning ear to ear as he shuffled through the fresh batch of photobooth pictures. "P'Por, look at this one! You actually smiled!" he said, holding up a strip of photos where Por wasn't scowling for once.

Por snatched the pictures from his hand, his ears burning. "Stop waving them around," he muttered, stuffing them into his pocket before Teetee could cause a scene.

Teetee just smirked, resting his chin on his palm. "Why? Embarrassed?"

Por clicked his tongue and turned his attention to the menu. "Shut up and order something."

If Teetee noticed the way Por's voice was a little softer than usual, he didn't say anything. Instead, he hummed and lazily flipped through the menu. "Mmm... I'll get the karaage. And some miso soup. Ooh, and salmon sashimi too."

Por frowned. "You're going to eat all of that?"

Teetee grinned. "Why? Are you worried about my stomach, P'Por?"

"No. I'm worried about your wallet," Por deadpanned.

Teetee barked out a laugh. "Aiyoo, don't be so stingy. I will handle it."

Por rolled his eyes but didn't argue. They placed their orders, and soon, the food arrived—crispy golden karaage, steaming bowls of rice, fresh slices of salmon, and a small dish of pickled vegetables. The moment Teetee took a bite of the fried chicken, he let out a pleased hum.

"Ohhh, this is good," he mumbled through a mouthful, eyes practically sparkling. "Try it, P'Por."

Por sighed but took a bite when Teetee shoved a piece onto his plate.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the usual bickering giving way to something more... peaceful. Teetee talked about random things, like how he once burned instant noodles as a kid, and Por, despite himself, listened. He barely noticed how his usual irritation with Teetee had faded into something else—something easier, something warmer.

That was, until Teetee finished eating and casually leaned back with a lazy smile.

"That was great," he sighed contentedly. Then, as if just realizing something, he blinked and patted his pockets. "Ah. I think I forgot my wallet."

Por froze mid-sip of his tea. "What?"

"My wallet," Teetee repeated, completely unfazed. "I don't have it. Must've left it in my car."

Por narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

Teetee gasped dramatically. "P'Por! You wound me! How could you accuse me of such a thing?"

"Because you're you," Por shot back, already pulling out his card with a glare.

Teetee watched him pay, resting his chin on his hand with a satisfied smile. "Thanks for the meal, Phi Por."

Por ignored the way that nickname made his skin heat. "Next time, you're paying."

Teetee just grinned. "Sure, sure. But there will be a next time, huh?"

Por didn't respond. He just grabbed his jacket and walked out, pretending he didn't hear the smugness in Teetee's voice—or the way his own chest felt a little lighter than usual.

Chapter Text

"Why do you bring me here?"

"To eat, duh"

"You know I don't eat thai food, what an asshole"

" Stop being such a spoiled brat. I just want to change your perspective"

"you wish" He made a disgusted face but the younger just blatantly ignored him.

"P'Por, have a taste- well do you know how to eat it?" Teetee asked while holding his utensils in the air, eyes gleaming while looking at Por. Por rolled his eyes, unpleased by the whole situation but he shook his head slowly. which makes teetee laugh and help him hold the utensils. "Like this, put the spoon in your dominant hand and fork in your non-dominant hand- yes like that, good. I'm gonna grill the meat and pork so you just wait, alright"

what option do the older have unless he nods and agrees? Well, there is actually. He could just get up and leave the place if he wanted to, it's not like he wanted to eat it anyway. He could just go back to the illegal street and participate in the race. He really could . But the real question is, does he want to leave....?

he stared at Teetee who beams happily while grilling the pork meat while rambling about how amazing the food is "-And you will keep coming back here P'Por, trust me. No food in the world can defeat Moo ka-ta" and he watched as Teetee's clumsy finger accidentally touched the hot grill and yelped in pain before blowing on his finger and continued grilling. What a slob.

the corner of Por's lips quirked up a little. Maybe he will leave after a bite. Or maybe he will leave after he insults how bad the food is. Fuck, maybe he don't want to leave at all.

'I'm doomed' he groaned internally.

>>>>>>

Por's silence was loud.

Teetee rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab Por's plate. "Alright, alright, you rich kid. I'll make it easy for you." He carefully placed a piece of grilled pork onto the plate, then picked up the small dipping bowl of spicy seafood sauce.

"Here," he said, pushing it toward Por. "Dip it in this first. Not too much, though, you'll die."

Por scowled at him but did as he was told. He picked up the chopsticks, dipped the meat, and took a small, reluctant bite.

Teetee watched him closely, eyes shining with anticipation.

Por chewed. Slowly.

Then, he blinked.

Teetee leaned forward. "Well? Well? Well?"

Por sighed through his nose. "It's fine."

Teetee smacked the table. "HA!"

Por flinched, glaring at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You like it!" Teetee grinned, practically bouncing in his seat. "Phi Por, a high-maintenance rich boy, actually likes Moo Kratha!"

Por clicked his tongue, reaching for another piece. "I didn't say that."

"You're eating more," Teetee sing-songed, watching as Por took another bite. "See? I knew you'd like it. You just needed a good teacher. A guide, if you will."

Por scoffed. "A nuisance, more likely."

"Same thing," Teetee said with a cheeky grin.

They continued eating, Teetee happily grilling and occasionally adding food to Por's plate while Por grumbled but still ate everything. Every time Por picked up his chopsticks without complaint, Teetee praised him like he was a toddler successfully using a spoon.

"Good job, Phi Por! Look at you, eating local food like a true man of the people!"

Por glared. "Shut up."

"I'm so proud! My rich boy is growing up!"

Por stabbed a piece of pork aggressively.

Teetee just laughed, watching as Por—despite all his protests—continued eating every single thing he gave him.

In the end, Por may have glared the entire time—

But he never stopped eating.

And Teetee?

He never stopped smiling.

>>>>>>>

After successfully forcing Por to eat Moo Kratha, Teetee leaned back in his chair, extremely satisfied. But he wasn't done yet.

No, no.

Because what better way to celebrate his victory than with dessert?

He waved at the staff and ordered two servings of coconut ice cream, topped with peanuts and sticky rice.

Por, who had been quietly sipping his drink, immediately frowned. "I didn't say I wanted that."

Teetee grinned. "Yeah, but I do. And what kind of host would I be if I didn't share the full experience with my dear Phi Por?"

Por exhaled through his nose, clearly tired of him. But he didn't argue any further.

When the ice cream arrived, Teetee immediately dug in, humming in delight. "Ahh, nothing beats this after grilled meat. Go on, try it!"

Por looked at him, then at the ice cream, then back at him.

"Do you really need to stare at me while I eat?"

"Yes."

Por clicked his tongue but took a small spoonful of the ice cream anyway. The second it hit his tongue, Teetee saw it.

That split-second change.

Por's eyes widened.

Teetee nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Por, who was usually all grumpy and unreadable, looked like an actual child enjoying his favorite treat. The way his posture relaxed slightly, the way his fingers gripped the spoon just a little tighter, and the way his expression softened without him even realizing—

It was adorable.

Teetee, of course, could not let this moment slide.

"OH?" He leaned in, smirking. "Did I just witness joy?"

Por's entire expression shut down immediately. "No."

"You liked that."

Por took another bite, slower this time. "Shut up."

"Look at you," Teetee teased, eyes gleaming. "Eating ice cream like a happy little kid."

Por sent him a sharp glare. "Do you ever stop talking?"

"Not when I'm this entertained."

Teetee propped his elbow on the table, chin resting on his palm as he openly admired the sight of Por—stoic, broody, ice-cold Por—eating coconut ice cream with actual enthusiasm.

Por, feeling the heavy stare, finally snapped. "What?"

Teetee grinned. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"Don't."

Too late.

Because Teetee had already decided.

He was never letting this go.

And from now on, he was definitely keeping ice cream in his back pocket as his ultimate weapon against his grumpy rich boy.

>>>>>>>

The night breeze was cool as they walked along the dimly lit street. Teetee, still high off his victory of making Por eat Moo Kratha and ice cream, was in an exceptionally good mood.

"Phi Por, be honest," he started, hands tucked into his pockets. "That Moo Kratha? Life-changing, right?"

Por gave him a blank look. "It was fine."

"Fine?" Teetee gasped dramatically. "You devoured it! And don't think I didn't see you eyeing my ice cream like you wanted another bite."

Por scoffed, looking away. "You're delusional."

Teetee smirked. "Ohhh, so that wasn't you staring at my spoon like a sad kitty?"

Por shot him a glare. "I was not—"

"This exact face," Teetee cut in, exaggerating a pitiful, wide-eyed expression.

Por sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why do I even tolerate you?"

Teetee grinned. "Because I make your life entertaining."

Por let out a sharp breath through his nose, clearly about to say something, but Teetee was already moving on, talking nonsense as usual.

And then—

He made a joke.

Something stupid. Something ridiculous. Maybe it was the way he reenacted a dramatic scene, or the way he exaggerated his own race victories. Maybe it was the way he imitated Por's deep, serious voice in an over-the-top manner.

Whatever it was—

It happened.

Por laughed.

Not a scoff. Not a half-exhale.

A real, full-bodied, genuine laugh.

It wasn't loud, but it was warm. Unrestrained. His shoulders shook slightly, his lips curved into something that wasn't just a smirk—it was an actual smile.

Teetee froze.

His breath hitched.

For a second, he forgot to keep walking.

Because—

Because what the hell?

Por laughing? Actually laughing?

It was so rare that Teetee wasn't even prepared for it.

He wasn't prepared for the way it completely transformed Por's usual cold demeanor. How it softened the sharp lines of his face, how his eyes crinkled just a little at the edges.

It was—

It was really unfair.

Teetee swallowed, suddenly feeling his pulse in his throat.

"You—" He cleared his throat. "You actually laughed."

Por, recovering quickly, schooled his expression back into neutrality. "No, I didn't."

"You did!" Teetee pointed at him. "I saw it. I heard it. My ears witnessed it!"

Por rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You're hallucinating."

"Nope." Teetee shook his head, still staring at him, still feeling the lingering shock in his chest. "I swear, I think the world paused for a second. The streetlights flickered. A cat probably gasped in the distance."

"You're so dramatic."

Teetee huffed out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Damn. I should've recorded that. I might never see it again."

Por gave him a sidelong glance. "Then stop being annoying. Maybe you'll get lucky."

Teetee blinked. Then, a slow, mischievous grin stretched across his face. "Ohhh, so you're saying if I play my cards right, I can make you laugh again?"

Por sighed, walking faster. "Go home, Teetee."

Teetee chased after him, grin still in place.

He wasn't going to let this go.

Not now.

Not ever.

Because for the first time, he saw a side of Por that wasn't guarded. That wasn't irritated or stoic or tired.

And damn it—

Teetee wanted to see it again.

>>>>>>>

Por never intended to be here.

He had no reason to be at another one of Teetee's races, especially since it wasn't against Thomas this time. And yet—

Here he was.

Standing near the sidelines, arms crossed, expression unreadable as he watched Teetee talk animatedly with some random racers before his match.

Por sighed. He was just here to observe. That was all.

But then—

"Phi Por!"

Por barely had time to react before something small and warm was suddenly shoved into his arms.

Por blinked down at it. A puppy.

A tiny, round-bellied, soft-furred creature with big, dark eyes staring up at him.

"...What," he said flatly.

Teetee grinned. "His name's Junior. Watch him for me while I race."

Por scowled. "Why the hell would I—"

But Teetee was already jogging backward toward his car, laughing. "Thanks, Phi Por! You're the best!"

Por stood there, utterly baffled, the puppy still in his arms.

What. The. Hell.

He looked down at Junior.

Junior blinked up at him.

Then, without warning, the tiny thing licked his chin.

Por's mouth parted slightly.

...Oh.

Oh no.

The puppy wiggled in his hands.

Por inhaled sharply. Damn it.

With a reluctant sigh, he made his way to a quieter part of the racing area, finding an old couch nearby. He sat down, adjusting Junior in his lap.

"...You're small," Por muttered, poking Junior's tiny paw. The puppy yawned, tail wagging.

Por's lips twitched.

He glanced around. No one was looking.

Carefully, he reached out and scratched behind Junior's ears.

The puppy made a happy little sound, nestling closer to him.

Por exhaled, settling back.

This wasn't so bad.

He ended up sitting there longer than he realized, letting Junior curl up against his chest, his fingers occasionally stroking the soft fur. The distant sounds of the race faded into the background.

At some point—without realizing—

Por's eyes slipped shut.

—

Teetee returned to the couch a while later, sweat still on his skin from the race, a triumphant smirk on his lips. "Easy win," he muttered to himself, stretching his arms. "Now, where's—"

He froze.

Right in front of him—

Por was asleep.

Not just asleep.

Asleep on the couch, one arm loosely wrapped around Junior, the puppy nuzzled into his chest.

Teetee felt something ache in his chest.

Because—

What the hell?

This was too cute.

Por, grumpy, cold, untouchable Por, sleeping peacefully with a puppy curled up in his arms?

Teetee's lips twitched.

Kitty and Puppy.

He had to bite back a laugh.

Carefully, quietly, he pulled out his phone—

Snap.

A picture.

Then another.

And another.

Because there was no way he was letting this moment disappear.

He was so going to use this against Por later.

But for now—

He just sat beside them, watching with a soft smile.

Maybe he'd let Por sleep a little longer.

Just this once.

>>>>>>>

Por stirred awake, a soft weight no longer against his chest. His eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim lights of the racing area.

Then—

Where's Junior?

Por sat up abruptly, eyes darting around. The warmth that had been curled up in his arms was gone.

He turned to Teetee, who was sitting beside him, watching him with a lazy smile.

"Where's the puppy?" Por asked, voice still thick with sleep but laced with urgency.

Teetee blinked, then let out a soft chuckle. "Relax, Phi Por. Junior's owner picked him up a while ago."

Por exhaled, shoulders dropping. "You could've woken me up."

Teetee tilted his head, grinning. "Nah. You looked too cute sleeping with him. Didn't have the heart to ruin the moment."

Por shot him a glare, but it lacked its usual sharpness. "Shut up."

Teetee, of course, did not shut up.

"You were holding him like he was your own baby," he continued, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Didn't know you were such a softie, Phi Por~"

Por rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "I am not a softie."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Teetee leaned in slightly, smirking. "Bet you miss him already."

Por opened his mouth to retort—only to close it again because—

...Okay, maybe he did miss the little furball.

Teetee snickered, nudging his arm. "It's fine, Por. If you ever want a puppy, I'll get you one."

Por frowned. "I don't need a puppy."

Teetee's grin widened. "You say that, but I know you want one now. You should've seen your face when you woke up—it was full-on panic mode."

"I was not panicking," Por muttered.

Teetee gasped dramatically. "Were you worried about Junior, Phi Por? Were you scared something happened to him?"

Por shot him a warning look. "I will throw you into the nearest ditch."

Teetee burst out laughing, and despite himself, Por felt his lips twitch.

They sat there for a moment, the hum of the racing area in the distance, the air still warm from the night's energy.

Por sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You're annoying."

Teetee grinned, resting his chin on his palm. "Yeah, yeah. But you like me anyway."

Por scoffed. "Delusional motherfucker"

And Teetee? He just sat there, watching him with something fond in his eyes.

>>>>>>

Por shivered, barely suppressing the small tremor that ran through his body. The night air had turned colder, creeping under his jacket, and he instinctively folded his arms, trying to trap some warmth.

Teetee, ever observant, caught the motion instantly. Without a word, he pulled off his own sweater and draped it over Por's shoulders.

Por blinked. "What are you—"

"Stay put," Teetee cut him off, voice unusually gentle. "I'll get you something warm."

Por opened his mouth, fully prepared to snap back, but the words never came. Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the lingering warmth of Teetee's sweater against his skin, but for the first time—

He just nodded. No sarcastic remark. No glare. Just... acceptance.

Teetee froze for a second, as if surprised by the lack of resistance. Then, his lips curled into a soft, almost triumphant smile.

"Good." He patted Por's head before skipping off to find something warm.

Por, still wrapped in the scent of Teetee's sweater, scowled. But this time, it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Chapter Text

It started as a regular race night—until Teetee saw him.

Some random guy. Tall, flashy, too friendly. Talking to Por.

Teetee hadn't been paying much attention at first—he was too busy drowning in his usual chaos, girls hanging off his arm, guys throwing around bets, the heat of the streets wrapping around him like a crown. But then, through the crowd, his eyes landed on Por—standing stiff, arms crossed, trapped in a conversation with some guy who was leaning way too close.

And then—then, the worst part—Por actually laughed.

Not a full laugh, not even a real one. But a small, amused smirk.

And Teetee? Teetee saw red.

Because what the hell was that?

Por never laughed at his jokes. Teetee had spent months annoying the life out of him, poking and prodding just to get a reaction, and now this random loser had Por smirking like that?

No. Absolutely not.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Teetee was there.

Sliding between them like he belonged there.

Throwing an arm around Por's shoulders, pulling him in just a little too tight, feeling the way Por immediately tensed under his touch.

"P'Por," Teetee drawled, his voice syrupy sweet.

Por's entire body locked up. "Oh my god. No."

But Teetee was already smiling at the other guy, his usual cocky, wolfish grin. The one that meant trouble.

"You new here?" he asked, head tilting. "Haven't seen you around before."

The guy hesitated. He had definitely picked up on the shift in energy. "Uh... yeah, kinda. Just talking to Por—"

"P'Por," Teetee corrected way too fast.

Por immediately shoved him off. "Shut. Up."

But it was too late. The other guy looked confused. Then slightly concerned.

Teetee grinned wider, shoving his hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world. "Did he tell you? He's my Phi. Three years older, actually. Kinda cute, huh?"

Por looked like he wanted to strangle him.

The guy blinked. "Oh. I didn't know you two were—"

"We're not," Por snapped.

Teetee gasped. Dramatically. "P'Por, you wound me."

Por glared. If looks could kill, Teetee would be buried six feet under.

The guy let out an awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh... right. Well, I should—"

"Yeah, you should," Teetee cut in, still grinning "Nice meeting you, though."

The guy hesitated for one more second, like he was trying to decide if Por was worth dealing with this absolute menace. But in the end, he just sighed and muttered, "I'll catch you later, Por," before disappearing back into the crowd.

As soon as he was gone, Por whirled on Teetee.

"What. The. Hell."

Teetee blinked at him, all innocent. "What?"

Por stepped closer. "You know what. What the hell was that?"

Teetee tilted his head. "Didn't like him."

Por's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Teetee shrugged. "Didn't like the way he was looking at you."

Por stared at him. "Since when do you care?"

Teetee's smirk curled slowly. "Since when did you start letting random guys flirt with you?"

Por's jaw clenched. "I wasn't—"

"Looked like it," Teetee cut in smoothly. "I mean, you were smiling."

Por pushed him. Right in the chest. Hard.

Teetee only laughed.

"Stay out of my business, Teetee," Por hissed. "We are not close."

Teetee leaned in, voice low, smug, and dangerous.

"Aren't we?"

Por inhaled sharply. "You are the worst person I've ever met."

Teetee just smirked. "Good. Then I won't have to worry about anyone else calling you Phi."

Por's fist clenched.

For the first time that night, Teetee thought he might actually get punched.

And maybe, just maybe, that was exactly what he wanted.

>>>>>>>

Teetee sat across from Por at the sleek Japanese restaurant, arms crossed, lips pushed out in the most ridiculous pout Por had ever seen.

He'd been like this since they walked in. Actually, since before they walked in. Ever since that random guy had dared to flirt with Por earlier, Teetee had been sulking, huffing, and mumbling under his breath like a child who got his toy stolen.

It was stupid.

They weren't together. They weren't even friends.

And yet—

"That guy was so ugly," Teetee muttered, poking at his sushi with his chopsticks.

Por sighed. "Teetee—"

"Like, seriously. Did he even have a driver's license? He looked twelve."

Por pinched the bridge of his nose. "He was literally older than you."

Teetee ignored him. "And the way he smiled at you? Disgusting. Shameless." He stabbed his sushi dramatically. "People these days have no manners."

Por rolled his eyes, reaching for his tea. "We are literally eating. Can you shut up?"

"I am eating." Teetee popped the sushi into his mouth, chewing aggressively. "But I'm also suffering."

Por let out a long, exhausted sigh. He was so tired. Teetee had been relentless about this. Sulking, complaining, glaring at the air like he was reliving the moment over and over again.

Enough.

Por put down his cup, leaned forward slightly, and—

"Please stop sulkin' kha."

The second the words left his mouth, Teetee froze.

Completely.

Like a glitching robot.

Eyes wide. Mouth slightly open. Hand hovering midair with his chopsticks still clutched between his fingers.

Por blinked. "...What."

Teetee suddenly slammed his hands onto the table, making the plates rattle.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?"

Por stared. "What?"

"Say it again."

"No."

"P'Por." Teetee lunged forward, gripping the table. "Say it again."

Por scowled. "You're being dramatic—"

Teetee grabbed his arm. "I swear to god—"

Por ripped his arm away. "I said stop sulking! What is your problem?"

"No, no, no." Teetee waved frantically. "The way you said it! The little kha at the end? P'Por." Teetee clutched his chest like he was about to faint. "You're so cute, I can't breathe."

Por's eye twitched. "I will leave."

Teetee dramatically collapsed against the table. "Say it again!"

"No."

"I beg you."

"Shut up."

Teetee peeked up at him, eyes practically sparkling. "P'Por..." He grinned. "You're not even denying that you're cute."

Por threw a napkin at his face. 

Teetee peeled the napkin off his face slowly, dramatically, like he was unveiling some great tragedy. He held it in his hands, staring at it like Por had just wounded him.

"You really just threw a napkin at me."

Por, completely unbothered, reached for his tea again. "I'll throw more if you don't shut up."

"Wow," Teetee breathed. "So violent. So heartless." He looked up at Por, eyes shimmering with fake hurt. "And here I thought you cared about me, Phi Por."

Por tensed. His fingers twitched slightly against his cup.

Teetee noticed.

"Ohhh," Teetee grinned, leaning forward again. "Look at you. Look at you. All stiff like I just cursed your ancestors or something." He poked at Por's arm, smirking. "It's just a joke, y'know? No need to act like I'm stabbing you."

"I'd rather you stab me," Por muttered.

Teetee gasped. "That's so mean."

Por just stared at him, deadpan. "I mean it."

Teetee pouted again, but this time, it was more playful than before. "Y'know, the more you react, the more I wanna say it."

Por let out a slow breath, already regretting every decision that led him to this moment. "Teetee."

"Yes, handsome Phi Por ?"

Por visibly flinched.

Teetee cackled.

Por grabbed a piece of sushi and shoved it into Teetee's mouth, effectively cutting off his laughter. Teetee's eyes widened, but he chewed anyway, grinning around the food like Por had just fed him out of love.

"Aw," he mumbled through his full mouth. "You're feeding me now? That's so sweet, P'Por."

Por wanted to die.

Or murder him.

Preferably both.

He picked up another sushi piece, ready to stuff it into Teetee's mouth again just to shut him up

But then he saw it.

The way Teetee looked at him.

That stupid grin. The sparkle in his eyes. The way he was just... genuinely happy, like teasing Por was his favorite pastime in the whole world.

Por sighed, putting the sushi down. "You're so annoying."

Teetee beamed. "I know."

Por stared at him for another second. Then, with a long-suffering sigh, he finally muttered—

"...Just eat your damn food."

Teetee, still grinning, popped another sushi into his mouth. But this time, he did it quietly.

Por wasn't sure why, but that almost made him more nervous.

>>>>>>

The night air was cool, the hum of the city fading behind them as Teetee's car cruised down the near-empty streets. Por sat in the passenger seat, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as ever.

Teetee, of course, was the exact opposite—one hand on the wheel, the other reaching for the radio to switch between stations like he had zero patience.

"Pick a damn song and stick to it," Por muttered, rubbing his temple.

Teetee hummed, ignoring him. "You don't like music, P'Por? What kind of boring rich boy are you?"

Por didn't answer. He just reached for the glove compartment, looking for some tissues because Teetee had spilled his drink earlier and hadn't even bothered to clean it up.

And that's when he saw it.

A small, slightly worn photobooth picture tucked between some old receipts and useless papers.

Por stilled.

It was their picture—the one Teetee had lost. The one Thomas had tried to use against him. The one that made Teetee's eyes burn with frustration.

Por picked it up slowly, staring at it. His younger self scowled in the image while Teetee grinned like an idiot, arms draped over Por's shoulders as if they had been best friends since birth.

"...You still have this?" Por asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

Teetee glanced at the picture, then back at the road. "Of course."

Por's fingers tightened around the edges. "I thought you lost it."

"I did," Teetee said, chuckling. "But I got it back, didn't I?"

Por frowned slightly. "And you just... keep it in here?"

Teetee nodded, eyes still on the road. "Well, yeah." Then, with a casual shrug, he added, "I bring it with me because I don't wanna lose it again."

Por felt something warm bloom in his chest.

He blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected feeling.

Teetee really carried this picture around? He was afraid to lose it again?

Por glanced at Teetee from the corner of his eye, watching how relaxed he looked, like it was no big deal. But for some reason, to Por, it kind of was.

He didn't know why, but his lips twitched into the smallest smile.

And that's when Teetee caught him.

"Oh my god," Teetee gasped, nearly swerving the car. "Did you just smile?"

Por immediately wiped the expression off his face. "No."

"You did!" Teetee cackled. "Holy shit, P'Por, you actually smiled because of me. You—"

Por shoved the picture back into the drawer and slammed it shut.

"Shut up before I throw myself out of this car."

Teetee was still grinning. "Don't worry, P'Por. I'll keep you safe."

Por groaned, tilting his head back against the seat, regretting everything.

But despite Teetee's teasing, despite the headache he was constantly giving him... Por didn't open the glove compartment again.

He already knew the picture was there. 

and somehow, that was enough.

Teetee was still grinning like he just won the lottery. "I can't believe it. P'Por actually smiled. Do you even realize how rare that is?"

Por sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Drop it."

"Oh no, no, no, this is going in the history books," Teetee said dramatically. "March sixteenth, the day P'Por smiled—because of me."

Por glared. "I told you to drop it."

"But I don't wanna," Teetee whined, kicking his feet playfully as he drove. "It's so cute seeing you all flustered—"

Por cut him off with a deadly glare. "Say that word again and I'm getting out of this car."

Teetee snorted. "You can't. We're on the highway."

"I'll still do it."

Teetee shook his head, smirking. "See, this is why I keep the picture, P'Por. You act all tough, but I know deep down you actually like me."

Por scoffed. "I tolerate you."

Teetee gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "That's progress!"

Por rolled his eyes, but Teetee wasn't done.

"Anyway, it's my picture, so even if I annoy you, you can't stop me from keeping it."

Por looked out the window, trying not to let the conversation get to him. "...Do whatever you want."

Teetee stole a quick glance at him. He noticed how Por's fingers tapped absentmindedly against his knee, a habit he had when he was deep in thought.

So, Teetee pushed a little further.

"You know," he said, voice unusually light. "You never asked why I wanted it back so badly."

Por didn't reply immediately. "...It's a picture. Why wouldn't you?"

Teetee let out a small laugh. "I've lost a lot of things, P'Por. But this?" He tapped the glove compartment. "This one felt too important to lose."

Por stared at the dashboard, pretending those words didn't do something strange to his chest.

Teetee turned the wheel smoothly, slowing as they approached a red light. He glanced at Por again, watching how he stayed quiet, eyes focused on something invisible outside.

"...You're thinking too hard," Teetee teased, breaking the silence.

Por huffed. "And you're talking too much."

Teetee grinned. "And yet, here you are, still listening."

Por sighed. He really hated how Teetee always had the last word.

But strangely enough... he let him have it.

Chapter Text

Por didnt know why he brought Teetee along with him to his best friend's place. And he didnt want to know. 

The café was warm and inviting, but Teetee couldn't stop staring at the pastel walls and cute latte art on people's tables. He turned to Por, deadpan.

 "This is your best friend's place?"

Por sighed, already exhausted. "Shut up."

Before Teetee could tease him, a loud "PORRRR!" echoed across the café, and a tall, skinny man with a messy undercut came striding over. His voice was booming, his grin mischievous.

"Holy shit, you finally decided to show up, Khun Rich Kid. I thought you forgot about me after hanging out with your new toy."

Por scowled. "Shut up, Patji."

Teetee, delighted, immediately extended his hand. "Teetee. Street racing legend. His new toy."

Patji burst into laughter, clapping Teetee on the shoulder. "Ohhh, I like this one!"

Por groaned. "I don't."

Patji ignored him and pulled Teetee toward a booth. "Come on, tell me—what's it like terrorizing this grumpy bastard every day?"

Teetee smirked, sliding into the seat. "It's my life's mission. And I'm succeeding."

Patji barked out another laugh. "Yeah, I can tell. Por looks extra miserable."

Por sat down with a deep sigh. "I hate both of you."

Patji leaned in with a grin. "You know, I gotta admit, Teetee—this is weird."

Teetee raised an eyebrow. "Weird how?"

Patji jerked his chin toward Por. "This one? He doesn't bring anyone here. Not even his flings. Hell, I don't even know if the guy has actual friends. You? You're the first."

Teetee blinked. His eyes flickered to Por, who had gone suspiciously silent, staring at his coffee like it held all the answers in the world.

"Ohhh..." Teetee grinned, leaning toward Por. "So, I'm special, huh, P'Por?"

Por finally looked up, eyes narrowing. "Shut. Up."

Patji smirked. "Oh, he's totally special."

Teetee placed a hand over his heart, dramatically. "I'm honored. Truly."

Por clicked his tongue, muttering under his breath. "Should've left you outside."

Patji watched them, amused. Then, he nudged Por's arm. "Admit it, man. You kinda like having him around."

Por didn't respond immediately. But when he did, his voice was quieter than usual.

"He's annoying."

Teetee beamed. "That wasn't a no~"

Patji grinned. "Yeah, that definitely wasn't a no."

Por exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "I regret everything."

But Teetee could see it—the tiniest, almost imperceptible twitch of Por's lips.

He was enjoying this.

>>>>>>>

Teetee was on the floor, dramatically pretending to lose a tickle fight to Pie, who was giggling uncontrollably. "Mercy! I surrender! You win, Pie!"

Pie clapped her hands. "Yay! You're my servant now!"

Teetee gasped. "Wait, that's not how this works—"

She pouted. "But I won."

Por sighed. "Teetee, she's five. Just do whatever she wants."

Teetee groaned but ruffled Pie's hair with a smile. "Fine, fine. What does my princess command?"

Pie giggled and whispered something in his ear, making Teetee break into loud laughter before running off with Patji's sister.

Patji shook his head. "Damn, your boy's got energy."

Por scowled. "Not my boy."

Patji smirked but let it slide—for now. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. "Anyway, back to the serious stuff. Thomas."

Por's mood instantly darkened. "Yeah. He's not just here for racing, that's for sure. My parents said his family has business here, but they don't know why he's the one handling things. That's what I need to figure out."

Patji frowned. "If it's his family, you know it's shady."

Por nodded. "Exactly."

Patji tapped his fingers against the table. "And you're keeping Teetee out of it?"

Por exhaled. "Trying to."

"Yeah, good luck with that." Patji snorted.

Por didn't respond, distracted. His eyes had drifted back to Teetee, who was now helping Pie build some kind of imaginary castle using sugar packets and spoons. The way Pie giggled, the way Teetee patiently listened to her ridiculous plans—it was weirdly... nice.

Patji followed his gaze, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk. "What's that face for?"

Por blinked, frowning. "What face?"

"That soft ass look you're giving him."

Por scowled. "Shut up."

Patji grinned. "You keep looking at him like that, people might start thinking you actually like the guy."

Por scoffed. "He's annoying."

Patji leaned in, resting his chin on his palm. "Uh-huh. And yet, here you are, sitting in my café, with him, after bringing him here voluntarily. You never do that with anyone, man."

Por clicked his tongue, looking away. "It's not like that."

Patji raised an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

Por stayed quiet for a second. Then, without meeting Patji's eyes, he mumbled, "I don't know."

Patji chuckled. "Well, I know."

Por rolled his eyes. "Enlighten me, then."

Patji just grinned. "Nah, I'll let you figure it out. Shouldn't take too long."

Por sighed heavily, but when he glanced at Teetee again—at the way he was laughing with Pie, so full of life, so effortlessly warm—he felt it again. That stupid, tiny, irritating warmth in his chest.

And he hated that Patji was right.

The four of them ended up at a small dessert shop, seated around a table stacked with different flavors of ice cream. Pie had a cup of vanilla with rainbow sprinkles, Patji had chocolate, Teetee had matcha, and Por... well, he hadn't even touched his mango ice cream yet.

Because Teetee—his Teetee (not that Por would ever say that out loud)—was completely ignoring him.

The loud racer had his full attention on Pie, wiping the little girl's mouth every time she messily licked her spoon. "You're getting ice cream all over your face, little one."

Pie pouted. "I can eat by myself."

"I know, I know," Teetee cooed, dabbing at her cheeks with a napkin. "But I can't let my princess be a mess, can I?"

Pie giggled, happily accepting Teetee's attention.

Por, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath, stirring his untouched ice cream. Seriously? He's been ignored before, but this is frustrating.

Patji, watching from the side, smirked. "Something wrong, Por?"

Por shot him a glare. "Shut up."

Patji chuckled. Oh, he was definitely enjoying this.

Teetee finally glanced at Por and immediately caught the way his jaw was clenched, the way he was aggressively stabbing his ice cream with his spoon. Oh? What's this? Is his P'Por sulking?

Teetee held back a grin. Of course, he noticed. He always noticed.

Sliding a little closer, Teetee leaned his elbow on the table, propping his chin up as he stared at Por. "P'Por, why aren't you eating? You don't like it?"

Por didn't answer. He just kept poking his ice cream.

Teetee bit back a laugh. Oh, he's pouting.

Lowering his voice so only Por could hear, Teetee whispered, "Phi~ are you jealous of Pie?"

Por froze. His grip on his spoon tightened, and his ears turned the faintest shade of pink. "What? No. that's so childish"

Teetee grinned, dragging his chair even closer until their arms brushed. "Are you sure? Because you've been staring at me like I stole your favorite toy."

Por scoffed. "You're ridiculous."

But Teetee, ever persistent, nudged him. "Don't worry, I didn't forget about you."

Por rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Teetee huffed, then suddenly scooped up a spoonful of mango ice cream and held it up to Por's lips. "Here. Eat."

Por blinked. "What the—"

"Shh," Teetee said, pressing the spoon closer. "Say 'ahhh~'"

Patji snorted loudly, this was gold.

Por looked at him like he wanted to die. "I can eat by myself."

"But you're not eating," Teetee countered, tilting his head innocently. "I'm just helping."

Pie, catching on to the fun, chimed in, "Yeah, P'Por! Say ahhh~"

Por groaned, but under Teetee's unwavering, mischievous stare, he finally relented, begrudgingly parting his lips.

Teetee's face lit up like a damn sunrise as he fed Por the ice cream. "See? That wasn't so hard."

Por chewed slowly, avoiding everyone's amused gazes. Dammit. It was good.

Teetee smirked. "My Phi Por is so cute when he listens~"

Por almost choked.

Meanwhile, Patji, watching the whole thing unfold, leaned back in his chair with an entertained grin. Yeah. This is gonna be fun.

Pie, now done with her ice cream, tugged on Patji's sleeve. "P'Pat, up!"

Patji glanced down at his little sister, who was already stretching her arms up expectantly. "Up? You just ate. You're gonna throw up all over me."

Pie pouted. "No, I won't."

Patji sighed but lifted her into his arms anyway, setting her on his hip with practiced ease. She giggled, clinging onto him like a little koala.

Meanwhile, Teetee shifted his attention back to his real problem—a certain grumpy rich kid who still had half of his ice cream left, now slightly melted.

He leaned in again, propping his chin on his palm as he stared at Por. "Phi, why are you eating so slow?"

Por didn't even look at him. "I don't like sweets that much."

Teetee gasped dramatically. "You—What? But you liked the ice cream last time!"

Por gave him a flat look. "That was different."

Teetee narrowed his eyes. "Different how?"

"...It just was."

Teetee clicked his tongue. "Liar." Then, without warning, he grabbed Por's spoon, scooped up some of the ice cream, and held it up to Por's lips again. "Come on. It's a waste if you don't finish it."

Por's eyebrow twitched. "Tee—"

"Ahhh~" Teetee teased, his grin playful.

Por genuinely considered throwing the whole ice cream cup at Teetee's face.

But... the way Teetee was actually paying attention to him again—his teasing, his usual unwavering focus on Por instead of anyone else—it was distracting.

Por exhaled sharply. He begrudgingly leaned forward and took the spoon into his mouth, chewing slowly.

Teetee, watching closely, grinned.

"Good boy."

Por froze mid-chew.

Patji nearly dropped Pie. "Oh my god."

Por, cheeks slightly pink, glared. "Shut. Up."

Teetee just laughed, his teasing completely shameless.

>>>>>>>

Por forced himself to finish the ice cream, all while pretending he wasn't completely aware of the way Teetee was staring at him—like he'd won some kind of prize.

He set the empty cup down on the table, exhaling. "There. Happy?"

Instead of answering, Teetee reached out and ruffled his hair.

Por froze.

The touch was so casual, so natural, like it was the most normal thing in the world for Teetee to just... stroke his hair. His fingers were gentle, threading through the strands before settling for a soft pat on top of Por's head.

"There," Teetee said, his voice lighter, softer than usual. "My Phi Por is the best."

Por's entire body stiffened. He shot Teetee a glare, but for some reason, the usual heat wasn't behind it.

Teetee, of course, noticed. He grinned but then—just when Por expected another annoying remark—his voice dropped into something unexpectedly genuine.

"You know I'll always put you first, right?"

Por's breath hitched.

Teetee was still smiling, but there was no teasing behind it this time. Just something else.

Something warm. Something assuring.

Por didn't know what to say to that. His chest felt... lighter. And even though his face remained unreadable, deep inside—deep, deep inside—he felt relieved.

So, instead of responding, he just looked away and let the silence settle.

Patji, who had been silently watching this entire thing unfold, clicked his tongue. "Okay, that's it. What is this?"

Por shot him a warning look, but Teetee was faster.

"My number one priority, obviously." Teetee beamed, still messing with Por's hair like he owned him.

Patji snorted. "Yeah? Then why don't you just confess already?"

Por almost choked on air. "PAT—"

Teetee just laughed, leaning back in his chair, looking way too pleased. "What, you jealous? Want me to put you first instead?"

Patji grimaced. "Not even in my worst nightmares."

Pie, still in Patji's arms, giggled. "P'Teetee and P'Por are like boyfriends~"

Por rubbed his temples. He needed out.

Teetee, on the other hand, was absolutely glowing.

>>>>>>>

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the streets, the four of them made their way toward their respective cars.

Pie, still in her big brother's arms, pouted as if realizing their time together was coming to an end. "You guys have to come visit again, okay?"

Teetee gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "Of course, how could I ever say no to my little princess?"

Pie giggled before leaning forward, wrapping her tiny arms around Teetee's neck in a tight hug. Teetee squeezed her back, grinning ear to ear.

Then, she turned to Por, arms still outstretched. "P'Por too!"

Por blinked, hesitating for a brief second before letting out a quiet sigh and gently patting her head. Instead of just a simple hug, Pie clung to him like a koala, making Teetee chuckle.

"Wow, Pie really likes you," Teetee said, nudging Por's side. "Maybe 'cause you kinda look like a cat."

Por glared at him. "Shut up."

Patji, standing nearby, just smirked. "Damn, never thought I'd see the day. Our P'Por getting attached to someone other than his wallet."

Por exhaled through his nose, completely ignoring his best friend. Instead, he gently pried Pie off, much to her reluctance.

"Go," Por said, his voice still gruff, but a little softer than usual. "It's late."

Pie pouted but nodded. "Okay. But promise you'll come back?"

Por gave her a small nod, which seemed to satisfy her.

Teetee, watching this, grinned like an idiot before slinging an arm over Por's shoulder. "You hear that, Phi Por? We gotta come back."

Por shrugged him off immediately, scowling. "I don't remember agreeing to that."

"You nodded just now," Teetee teased. "That counts."

Patji shook his head, chuckling. "You two are exhausting."

Teetee just winked at him before grabbing Por's wrist and dragging him towards the car. "Alright, alright, let's go before my Phi Por starts hissing."

Por grumbled, but—if anyone paid close attention—they might've noticed the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Chapter Text

Teetee had never seen this version of Por before.

Por, who usually rolled his eyes at affection.
Por, who acted like he was too good for all of Teetee's teasing.
Por, who was always stiff and grumpy and way too serious for his own good.

That Por?

Gone.

In his place?

A very drunk, very clingy, very soft Phi Por.

Por had stumbled out of the club, eyes glazed, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink from all the alcohol. And before Teetee could react—

he latched onto him.

Like, physically latched on.

His arms looped around Teetee's waist, his forehead pressed against his chest, fingers fisting into Teetee's shirt like he never wanted to let go.

And Teetee nearly choked on air.

What the fuck.

"Uhh... Phi?" Teetee tried, voice tighter than it should be.

Por let out a dramatic little whine against his chest.

"Stop calling me that," he mumbled, voice muffled by Teetee's shirt.

Teetee blinked. "What?"

"You always say it to mess with me," Por grumbled, hugging him tighter.

And—oh.

Oh, that was dangerous.

Por was shorter than him, and Teetee had always thought that was cute—but he'd never let himself think about it too much.

Because Por would kill him.

But now?

Now Por was pressing his whole body against him, gripping his waist like a damn koala, and Teetee could feel how warm he was, how small he was compared to him, how fucking cute he was—

And Teetee was actually going to die.

"Okay, okay, we need to get you home," he managed to say, voice a little too high.

Por just whined again.

Whined.

And nuzzled into him.

Teetee almost blacked out.

This wasn't fair.

"Why are you so clingy?" he groaned, half-exasperated, half-losing his fucking mind.

Por pouted. Actually pouted.

"You don't like it?" he mumbled, tilting his head up, looking at Teetee with big, glassy eyes.

And Teetee's brain short-circuited.

Because this was the same Por who used to glare at him like he wanted to throw him off a bridge.

And now he was clinging to him, looking at him like a kicked puppy, asking if he liked it.

Teetee took a deep, shaky breath.

"I—" He stopped. Swallowed. Tried again. "Phi Por, I swear to God, if you don't let go of me right now, I might actually—"

Por suddenly stood on his toes.

And Teetee froze.

Because Por had grabbed his face.

His hands cupped his cheeks, thumbs brushing lightly against his skin.

And Teetee—Teetee forgot how to breathe.

Por stared at him, eyes hazy, lips parted.

Then—he smiled.

Soft. Sleepy. A little mischievous.

"Teetee."

His voice was low. Almost affectionate.

And Teetee felt his soul leave his body.

"Y-Yeah?"

Por's grin widened.

Then—he squished Teetee's cheeks together.

And Teetee nearly collapsed on the spot.

"So cute."

Teetee made a sound that was not human.

He was gonna die. He was actually gonna fucking die.

This was not real.

Por—Phi Por, Mr. I-Hate-You-Teetee—just called him cute.

While drunk and clinging to him.

Teetee squeezed his eyes shut, praying for strength.

"I will fucking pass out if you don't stop."

Por just giggled.

And that was it.

That was the moment Teetee officially lost his damn mind.

>>>>>>>

"Teetee."

"Yes, Phi Por?"

"Teetee."

"Yes, Phi Por."

"Teeteeeee—"

Teetee gritted his teeth, trying to wrestle his apartment door open while carrying a very drunk, very clingy Por.

He barely got the door shut before Por all but melted against him, arms still locked tight around Teetee's shoulders, refusing to be put down.

"Alright, you're here," Teetee huffed, trying—and failing—to untangle Por from his body. "Now let go."

"No." 

Teetee exhaled sharply. This little—

"Por," he tried, voice dangerously calm.

Por nuzzled into his shoulder.

"Mmm, comfy."

Teetee almost blacked out.

"You are a grown-ass man," he hissed. "Why are you acting like a damn koala?"

"Dunno," Por hummed, his breath warm against Teetee's skin.

Then, without warning—

He tilted his head and bit Teetee's shoulder.

Not hard. Just a small, lazy bite.

And Teetee nearly dropped him.

"WHAT THE FUCK."

"Mmm," Por mumbled, sounding completely unbothered. "Felt like it."

Teetee stared at him.

Stared at the mess of dark hair pressed against his shoulder, at Por's flushed cheeks, at the way his legs were still wrapped tight around Teetee's waist.

And he realized—he was about to die.

He was actually about to fucking die.

"You—" Teetee stopped, exhaled sharply through his nose. "You are going to bed."

"Not sleepy."

"I don't care."

"Dun wanna."

"I don't care."

Por suddenly lifted his head.

Big mistake.

Because now Teetee was staring directly into those glassy, hazy, stupidly pretty eyes.

Por blinked slowly.

Then—he smiled.

Soft. Sweet. A little dazed.

"But I like you, Teetee."

Teetee almost short-circuited.

"No, you don't," he blurted out.

Por gasped.

A dramatic, scandalized gasp.

"Yes, I do."

"No, you don't, you're drunk."

"I like you even when I'm not drunk."

Teetee froze.

His breath caught.

And Por—Por just fucking smiled.

Like he didn't just casually destroy Teetee's entire existence.

"Tee."

Por's voice was softer now.

He leaned in, face dangerously close, breath warm against Teetee's skin.

"I really, really like you."

And Teetee was actually going to fucking pass out.

Because this was not fair.

Por was shorter than him, smaller than him, supposed to be weaker than him.

So why the fuck did Teetee feel like the one completely overpowered?

His hands trembled where they were still holding Por up.

His heart slammed against his ribs.

And Por was just looking at him.

Soft. Open. Unfiltered.

Teetee's throat went dry.

If Por remembered this tomorrow, Teetee was fucked.

If Por didn't remember this tomorrow, Teetee was still fucked.

Either way—Teetee was so, so fucking screwed.

>>>>>>>

Teetee didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

Didn't blink.

Because Por was still in his arms, still wrapped around him, still whispering things that made Teetee's brain glitch and his stomach flip.

And now?

Now, Por was playing with his damn hair.

skinny pale fingers threading through the strands, twisting, tugging, petting.

Teetee couldn't handle it.

"Por."

"Hmm?"

"Go. To. Sleep."

"Nooo."

Teetee exhaled sharply. "Yes."

Por whined.

Teetee clenched his jaw, because why the fuck was that cute?

"You're drunk," he tried again. "You need to sleep it off."

Por pouted. "But I like you."

Teetee was going to explode.

"You don't even know what you're saying."

"Yes, I do."

"Phi Por—"

"Say it again."

Teetee stopped.

Por's lips curled into a slow, lazy grin.

"Say it again, Tee."

And—oh.

Oh, that little shit was enjoying this.

Even drunk, he was still a menace.

"...No."

Por pouted harder.

"Mean," he mumbled, voice soft and mumbly.

Teetee groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

"Teetee."

He sighed. "What?"

"I want cuddles."

Teetee nearly threw him across the room.

"Phi Por—"

"Tee."

Teetee bit his tongue.

Because Por never called him that.

Not without the annoyed look.  Not without some deadpan expression.

But now?

Now, Por was looking at him like he meant it.

Soft. Sleepy. A little desperate. 

Like he needed Teetee.

Teetee's brain shut down.

His pulse jumped.

And before he knew it—Por had somehow climbed into his lap.

Just—climbed on top of him like it was nothing.

Teetee panicked.

"Okay, okay, enough—"

"Shh."

"Por—"

"Shhhh."

Teetee stiffened.

Because Por had just pressed a finger against his lips.

Like it was completely normal.

Like it was allowed.

Like Teetee wasn't currently losing his goddamn mind.

"I wanna sleep like this," Por mumbled, snuggling into his chest.

Teetee twitched.

"Like—like what?" he croaked.

"Like this."

Por wiggled in closer.

Tucked his head under Teetee's chin.

And squeezed his arms even tighter around Teetee's waist.

Teetee stopped functioning.

Just full-body error.

Brain: Dead.
Heart: Gone.
Dignity: Reduced to atoms.

Por's breathing slowed.

His body relaxed.

And just like that—he passed out.

Meanwhile, Teetee was wide awake.

Eyes staring at the ceiling.

Hands hovering awkwardly in the air.

Brain fried beyond repair.

Because—what the fuck just happened?

And more importantly—

How the hell was he supposed to survive this?

>>>>>>

Por woke up warm.

Which was weird.

Because his bed was never this warm.

And it never smelled like—

Wait.

Wait.

Por's eyes snapped open.

And immediately, he regretted everything.

Because he wasn't in his bed.

He was in—

Teetee's bed.

Por froze.

His brain stopped.

His entire body went stiff.

Because—oh my fucking god.

What. The. Fuck.

Slowly—**painfully, terrifyingly slowly—**he turned his head.

And there, propped up on one elbow, smirking down at him like he was the funniest thing in the world—

Was Teetee.

"Mornin', Phi Por."

Por wanted to die.

Right then. Right there.

He snapped up so fast he nearly fell off the bed.

Teetee just laughed.

A slow, lazy, completely entertained laugh.

Por wanted to punch him.

No—he wanted to punch himself.

Because the memories were coming back.

The club. The drinks. The way he wouldn't let go of Teetee.

Oh god.

The cuddling.

Oh god.

"I wanna sleep like this."

Por whimpered.

He actually whimpered.

And Teetee heard it.

Because suddenly, he was grinning.

"You okay, Phi?"

Por swallowed. "Don't call me that."

Teetee's grin widened.

"Why not? You didn't seem to mind last night."

Por's soul left his body.

"No." He shook his head, horrified. "No, no, no—"

Teetee tilted his head. A knowing smile plastered on his face

"No, what?"

Por glared at him.

"Nothing happened."

Teetee blinked.

Then—he smirked.

"Ohhh." He nodded, like he finally got it. "So you don't remember?"

Por hesitated. "I—"

"Damn," Teetee sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the pillows.

Por narrowed his eyes. "What."

"Nothing, nothing," Teetee hummed, grinning up at the ceiling. "Just kinda crazy how you—"

Por's stomach flipped.

"—wouldn't stop clinging to me last night."

Por choked.

"Oh, Teetee, don't let goooo," Teetee mimicked, high-pitched and whiny.

Por stared in horror.

"Teetee, you're so warmmmm."

Por buried his face in his hands.

"Tee, I like youuuuuu."

Por physically collapsed.

"SHUT UP!"

Teetee laughed.

"Aw, what's wrong, Phi Por?" he teased, reaching over to ruffle Por's hair.

Por swatted his hand away.

"Are you embarrassed?"

Por glared at him, red-faced and seething.

"You should be."

Por grabbed the nearest pillow—and threw it directly at Teetee's face.

Teetee dodged it effortlessly, still grinning like the absolute menace he was.

"Oh, Phi, don't be shy—"

Por launched another pillow.

Teetee dodged again.

"You weren't shy last night—"

Third pillow.

This time, it hit him straight in the face.

And for one glorious second, Por felt victorious.

Until Teetee pulled the pillow away—and smiled.

Soft. Easy.

And a little too damn fond.

Por's stomach did a thing.

A stupid, awful, terrifying thing.

And that was the final straw.

"I'm leaving."

Teetee snorted. "You still look half-drunk."

"I will walk into traffic before I stay here any longer."

Teetee laughed.

And just as Por was about to leave Teetee's room, still flushed, still fuming—

Teetee called after him—

"You can cling to me any time, Phi Por~!"

Por flip him his middle finger.

And Teetee just smiled.

Because damn.

That was way too fun.

>>>>>>>

Por wasn't suppposed to stay, absolutely not.

He was supposed to storm out, never look back, and pretend last night never happened.

But then.

Then, he smelled it.

Something warm. Something savory.

Something that made his stomach twist with hunger.

His feet betrayed him before his brain even caught up.

And somehow—somehow—he found himself sitting at Teetee's tiny dining table, watching as the smug bastard moved around the kitchen like he owned the place.

"You cook?" Por asked, before he could stop himself.

Teetee smirked. "I do everything, Phi."

Por rolled his eyes.

And then—Teetee placed a plate in front of him.

Por stared.

A perfectly cooked omelet. Steaming jasmine rice. Crispy, golden-fried pork belly on the side.

It smelled—dangerous.

Because it smelled good.

Por picked up his spoon.

Took a bite.

And immediately regretted everything.

Because—

It was good.

No. It was amazing.

The eggs were soft, buttery, perfect.

The pork belly—crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, salty and rich and addicting.

And Por hated it.

Because now?

Now, he was losing.

He tried to keep his expression neutral, but Teetee was watching him too closely.

And then—the bastard smirked.

"Told you I was good."

Por glared.

But he didn't stop eating.

In fact—he finished the whole plate way too fast.

And now, he wanted more.

His pride screamed at him to stay quiet.

But his stomach?

His stomach betrayed him.

Because before he could stop himself, he blurted out—

"Do you have more?"

Silence.

Teetee's smirk grew.

And then—

"What's the magic word, Phi Por?"

Por froze.

His entire body locked up.

He stared.

And Teetee just grinned.

"Come on," he teased, leaning forward, elbows on the table. "Say it."

Por gritted his teeth.

"No."

"Then no second serving."

Por's eye twitched.

Teetee picked up the serving spoon, twirling it between his fingers.

So casual. So relaxed. So fucking evil.

"All you gotta do is say please."

Por's hands curled into fists.

Teetee raised an eyebrow. "No? Alright, then—"

"WAIT."

Por's own voice betrayed him.

Teetee paused.

Slowly—**so, so slowly—**he turned back.

And smiled. Sweet. Expectant.

"What was that, Phi?"

Por swallowed. His pride burned.

He looked at the food. Looked at Teetee.

Then—he looked away.

And muttered, barely above a whisper—

"...please."

Silence.

Dead silence.

Then—

Teetee fucking laughed. Long. Slow. Victorious. Por's face burned,He wanted to throw himself. out the window.

But then—Teetee stood.

Walked over.

And placed another plate of food in front of him.

"See? That wasn't so hard, Phi Por."

Por snatched the plate and refused to answer.

He shoved a spoonful of rice in his mouth—and pretended not to hear Teetee's quiet chuckle of absolute satisfaction.

>>>>>

Por tried to ignore him.

Really, he did.

He focused on the food. The perfect eggs. The crispy pork belly.

And not on—him.

Not on Teetee, sitting across from him, chin resting on his palm, smirking like he just won the goddamn lottery.

Because he wasn't just watching.

He was cooing.

"Aww, look at Phi Por, eating so cutely~."

Por's eye twitched.

He shoved another bite of rice into his mouth.

"Is it good, Phi?"

Por didn't answer.

"Ohhh, it is. You're eating so fast."

Por gritted his teeth.

"Want me to feed you next time?"

Por choked.

Teetee laughed.

"I can, you know," he went on, eyes glinting with mischief. "Next time, I'll even—"

"Shut up."

Teetee grinned.

"Why? You're cute when you eat."

Por paused.

Then, very, very slowly—

He put his spoon down.

And stared.

Deadpan. Expressionless.

And Teetee only smiled wider.

"What? It's true."

Por exhaled sharply.

Then—he picked up his spoon and kept eating.

Because fuck it.

This was the best food he'd had in a long time, and he wasn't about to let this demon ruin it.

Teetee gasped, mock-offended.

"You're ignoring me now?"

Por chewed. Silently.

Teetee leaned closer.

"Phi Por~."

Por took another bite.

"P'Porrrr~."

Por sipped his water.

"You're so mean."

Por put his glass down.

And Teetee pouted.

"I just made you breakfast, you know," he sighed dramatically, resting his cheek on his hand.

"And now you're just sitting there, eating happily, completely ignoring me."

Por did not react.

Teetee huffed.

"Fine, be like that. But I know the truth, Phi."

Por finally sighed, exasperated. "What truth?"

Teetee grinned.

"You like my cooking. You like it so much you can't even argue with me right now."

Por paused.

Then—he went back to eating.

Because, unfortunately, Teetee was right.

Teetee laughed, victorious.

"Told you."

Por swallowed.

And—for the first time that morning—

He looked up.

And stared directly at Teetee.

Eyes sharp. Challenging.

"So?" he said flatly. "You gonna cook for me again or not?"

Teetee blinked.

And for one, glorious second—he was actually stunned.

But then—he smirked.

"Depends, Phi."

Por narrowed his eyes.

"On?"

Teetee leaned forward, his voice light, teasing—

"Will you say please again?"

Por's spoon clattered against the plate.

And Teetee lost it.

"Awww, don't be shy, Phi Por~."

Por grabbed a napkin.

And threw it at his face.

Teetee dodged, still laughing.

"You can't escape me forever, you know," he sing-songed.

Por stood up, red-faced and fuming.

"Watch me."

And with that, he stormed out of the kitchen and out of the apartment.

Teetee just grinned after him.

Por sat across from Thomas in the dimly lit lounge, his fingers loosely curled around a crystal glass of untouched whiskey. The air smelled of expensive cigars and aged liquor, but none of it mattered. Not when Thomas had just dropped that bombshell.

"You're serious?" Por finally spoke, his voice even but laced with disbelief. "You're handing over the position? To me?"

Thomas smirked, swirling his own drink. "Why do you sound so surprised? You're the only one I trust to take it."

"That's bullshit," Por shot back, narrowing his eyes. "You wanted this. You fought for it. Since we were kids, you made it clear you'd do anything to have it."

Thomas hummed, setting his glass down with a soft clink. "You're right. I did."

Por waited for him to continue, jaw tense, but before he could demand an explanation, another voice chimed in.

"But he happened."

Por turned toward the new arrival, a man about Thomas's height, but softer, with a livelier energy that made him instantly stand out in the room's cold atmosphere. His eyes practically gleamed with warmth, and when he smiled, it was the kind that softened edges and made things feel a little less dangerous.

"This is Kong," Thomas introduced, a rare fondness creeping into his voice as he reached out, casually pulling the man closer by the waist. "My boyfriend."

Por blinked, taken aback—not by the fact that Thomas had a boyfriend, but by the way he said it. Like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like it had already changed everything.

"I know what you're thinking," Thomas continued, glancing at Por with that sharp, knowing gaze. "Why would I let go of something I wanted for so long?" He then tilted his head slightly towards Kong, shoulders relaxing in a way Por had never seen before. "The answer's simple."

Kong rolled his eyes. "It's really not. He's being dramatic."

Thomas ignored him. "The family business is dangerous. Always has been. I didn't care before because it was all I knew, all I wanted." He paused, then smirked. "Then this idiot walked into my life and made me rethink all my priorities."

Kong leaned against Thomas casually, grinning at Por. "Crazy, right? Love does that to people."

Por scoffed. "Tch. You're telling me you'd really throw away years of effort for this?"

"For him," Thomas corrected without hesitation. "And yeah, without a second thought."

Por stared at him, then at Kong, who beamed like he'd just won the lottery. It was ridiculous. Unbelievable. But at the same time...

Something about it felt undeniably real.

Then, as if suddenly struck by another thought, Thomas leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as his sharp gaze zeroed in on Por.

"Speaking of love," he mused, "I couldn't help but notice something interesting lately."

Por stiffened immediately. "What?"

Thomas smirked. "You act different around someone."

Por's grip on his glass tightened.

Kong's eyes lit up. "Ohh, who?"

Thomas ignored him, still staring Por down like a predator who had just found a new target. "Teetee."

Por's jaw clenched. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Thomas laughed, shaking his head. "Of course you don't. You never do when it comes to emotions." He leaned back, looking entirely too amused. "But let me give you some free advice, from one former idiot to another."

Por said nothing, but his nails dug into his palm.

"If someone makes you feel something, if they pull you out of your own world and shake up everything you thought you knew—you don't let that go," Thomas said smoothly, his voice oddly genuine. "You fight for it. Before it's too late."

Por swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

Kong, still smiling, nudged Thomas. "That was kind of romantic."

Thomas smirked. "I have my moments." Then, turning back to Por, his tone dropped just slightly, his words slower. More deliberate.

"Just don't be a coward about it."

Por had nothing to say to that.

Because for the first time in a long while, he wasn't sure if Thomas was wrong.

Kong was all smiles, looking at Thomas like he had hung the moon, but Por wasn't about to let him off the hook that easily.

"Oh, since you're being all romantic and wise about love, why don't you tell your boyfriend what you've been up to?" Por said, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his seat.

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "What are you on about now?"

Por's lips curled into a smirk. "How about the fact that you nearly killed someone the other night?"

Kong, who had been happily sipping his drink, suddenly froze. "What?" He turned to Thomas with wide eyes. "What is he talking about?"

Thomas shot Por an annoyed glare, but Por only shrugged. "I'm talking about your little stunt during that race with Teetee. You didn't play fair—what a shocker. But that wasn't the worst part, was it?" Por's voice turned sharp. "You almost killed him."

Kong slowly set his drink down. "Thomas."

Thomas let out a heavy sigh and rubbed his temples, as if preparing for what was coming. "Kong—"

"No, don't 'Kong' me," Kong snapped, now fully glaring at his boyfriend. "You almost killed someone, and I had to hear about it from him?" He jabbed a finger toward Por.

Thomas sighed again, this time softer. "It wasn't that bad—"

"Oh? Wasn't that bad?" Kong's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You think risking someone's life is 'not that bad'?"

Thomas groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. "It was before we had this conversation! Before I—" He glanced at Kong, then exhaled. "Before I figured things out."

Kong crossed his arms. "That's not an excuse."

"I know."

"Do you?"

Thomas finally looked at Kong, something softer in his gaze. "Yes. I do." Then, to everyone's surprise, he reached for Kong's hand, threading their fingers together. His voice lowered as he said, "I wouldn't do it again."

Kong pursed his lips, clearly still annoyed, but his fingers twitched slightly in Thomas's hold. "...Promise?"

Thomas nodded. "Promise."

Por watched the whole thing unfold, slightly stunned.

Thomas, the same Thomas who would rather die than admit fault, who always acted like he was above everything—was now sitting there, letting his boyfriend nag him without a single protest. More than that, he actually apologized. Genuinely.

It was weird. But at the same time...

It made Por wonder.

Did he look like that, too?

Did people see him and Teetee like this—like something was going on?

The thought made his stomach turn, but not in a bad way.

Por shook his head, trying to push it aside, but he couldn't ignore the small, nagging feeling that wouldn't go away.

>>>>>>>

Thomas leaned back in his seat, watching Por with a knowing smirk. "So? What's your answer?"

Por exhaled slowly, fingers drumming against the table. His parents would want him to take this position. It was powerful, influential. But it was also a trap—one that could pull him into a world he had no interest in.

He lifted his gaze to Thomas. "I'll do it."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"But," Por continued, his voice firm, "I'll only handle things externally. I'm not getting involved in your family's mess any deeper than that."

Kong's smile widened in relief, but Thomas only chuckled. "I should've known. You were never the type to get your hands dirty."

Por shot him a look. "Unlike you?"

Thomas smirked. "Something like that."

Kong rolled his eyes. "Are you two gonna keep having your little pissing contest, or can we move on?"

Por ignored him. "I want everything on paper. No loopholes, no fine print. I control what I handle, and I don't answer to anyone in your family."

Thomas hummed, swirling his drink. "Sounds like you don't trust me."

Por snorted. "I don't."

Kong elbowed Thomas hard, making him grunt. "Just be grateful he's helping at all."

Thomas sighed dramatically, but the sharp glint in his eyes softened. "Fine. Have your lawyers draft something up." He leaned forward slightly. "But once you step in, Por, there's no stepping back out."

Por held his gaze. "I don't plan on stepping in too deep to begin with."

Thomas only smiled. "Great."

Chapter Text

The hospital room smelled like sterile air and faint jasmine. The steady beeping of machines filled the silence, but the moment Teetee stepped in, the air lightened.

"Bà." His voice was softer than usual, almost childlike.

On the hospital bed, an elderly woman with kind eyes turned her head, a gentle smile already forming on her lips.

"Tee."

She lifted a frail hand, and Teetee was by her side in an instant, pressing her fingers between his palms like they were the most precious thing in the world.

Por stood frozen at the door.

He had never seen Teetee like this before—gentle, vulnerable, stripped of all that arrogant bravado.

It was almost unsettling.

"And who is this?" Grandma's voice was warm but curious. Her gaze shifted to Por, studying him.

Teetee turned slightly, almost like he forgot Por was there.

"Ah. This is—" He hesitated for a second too long.

"Por." Por stepped forward, his voice calm, steady. "Nice to meet you, Khun Yai."

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable. A knowing kind of warmth.

"Nice to meet you too, Por." She squeezed Teetee's hand. "I didn't know my grandson made friends these days."

Teetee clicked his tongue, a little too fast.

"He's not my friend."

Por shot him a flat look. "Wow. Thanks."

Grandma laughed, soft and amused. "Ah, I see."

She didn't sound like she believed Teetee one bit.

Por sat beside the bed, keeping his posture formal but relaxed. Grandma's gaze never left him, like she was reading into something deeper.

"You must be special." She finally said.

Por blinked. "Sorry?"

"My Teetee never brings anyone here. Not unless they are family."

Silence.

Por glanced at Teetee, who was suddenly staring a little too hard at the floor.

A small smirk threatened to curl Por's lips.

"Maybe he just wanted to show me off." He said smoothly.

Teetee immediately smacked his arm.

"Shut up."

Grandma chuckled, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

"You seem like a good person, Por." She said after a moment. Her tone softened. "I hope you will be good to my boy, too."

Por met her gaze.

And for once—he didn't have anything cocky to say.

Because something in his chest ached at those words.

Por hadn't planned to stay.

But Teetee had shoved a list into his hands with a half-mumbled "watch her for me, yeah?" before storming out like he wasn't secretly nervous about leaving his grandmother alone.

So here Por was.

In a hospital room, sitting awkwardly in a chair, while Teetee's grandma watched him with warm, knowing eyes.

"You don't have to be so stiff, dear," she finally said, amused. "I don't bite."

Por exhaled through his nose, finally relaxing a little.

"I guess I'm just not used to this." He admitted.

"Used to what?"

"I don't know." He glanced at her, then at the door Teetee had disappeared through. "Being trusted, I guess."

Her eyes softened.

"Ah." She let that settle before speaking again. "He trusts you, you know."

Por gave a dry chuckle. "Teetee? That guy? He barely listens to me, let alone trusts me.He just love annoying me"

"Oh, but he does."

Por looked at her, a little startled by her certainty.

"My boy is stubborn," she said fondly. "And a little reckless. But he doesn't let just anyone near the people he loves. He must see something in you."

Por blinked.

His mouth opened—then closed.

"Teetee doesn't talk about himself much, does he?" She continued. "Always acting tough. Always putting on a show."

Por didn't answer. Because that was true.

"But he's softer than he lets on."

She adjusted the blanket on her lap, smiling to herself.

"When he was little, he used to cry if he saw a bird with a broken wing. He'd bring home stray cats, even though I told him we had no space for them. He takes care of things even when no one asks him to."

Por swallowed.

Because—yeah.

He had seen that.

In the way Teetee gritted his teeth and fought through every struggle alone. In the way he would act unbothered, but his hands would be shaking.

In the way he never asked for help, but never let anyone else suffer, either.

"He's not as fearless as he wants you to think." Grandma said, giving him a pointed look. "You see that, don't you?"

Por's grip tightened around his knee.

Yeah.

He did.

When Teetee burst back into the hospital room, arms full of plastic bags and a cocky grin, Por expected the usual teasing.

Instead, Teetee threw a bag onto Por's lap.

"Eat, Phi."

Por blinked at the bag, then at Teetee, who was already setting food out for Grandma.

"Didn't know you were my servant now," Por muttered, opening the bag anyway.

"Tch." Teetee scoffed. "If I were your servant, you'd starve. This is me being nice."

"Scary."

"Right? Should've taken a picture."

Grandma laughed at their bickering, the sound light and warm.

And somehow, they ended up eating together—Teetee talking with his mouth full, Grandma shaking her head at him, and Por...

Por just watching.

Listening.

The easy way Teetee leaned against the hospital bed, one hand resting lightly over his grandma's. The way his eyes softened whenever she spoke, even when he was pretending to be exasperated.

And the way—for the first time in a long time—Por didn't feel like an outsider.

He didn't feel like he was sitting at someone else's table, looking in.

He felt... there.

Included.

Happy.

It was such a simple moment. Just laughter and takeout and warmth.

But when Teetee caught him staring and grinned like he knew exactly what Por was feeling, Por had to look away.

He swallowed.

Damn it.

This was dangerous.

>>>>>>>>>

The vintage bar was dimly lit, filled with the soft hum of jazz music and quiet chatter. The air smelled of aged whiskey and cigarette smoke, the kind of place that felt like a world away from the roaring engines and adrenaline-fueled races they were used to. Teetee, true to his nature, had made himself comfortable, one arm draped over the back of the booth as he downed another shot with ease. Por, sitting across from him, swirled his drink lazily in his glass, watching the way the amber liquid caught the low light.

A week. That's how long it had been since Por found himself returning to the hospital with Teetee. Twice now, he had come back, standing awkwardly by Grandma's bedside while Teetee fed her, joked with her, made her smile despite everything. And yet, even after spending all that time there, Por realized he never actually asked why she was in the hospital in the first place.

So, he asked.

"Your grandma..." Por started, setting his glass down. "What's wrong with her?"

Teetee, who had been mid-sip, paused. For a brief moment, something flickered in his expression, something fragile and unguarded. But then, just as quickly, he forced out a small, almost dismissive laugh.

"Ah, it's nothing. Just cancer," he said, waving it off like he was talking about a mild fever.

Por's fingers tightened slightly around his glass. "That's not 'nothing,' Teetee."

Teetee exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back against the seat. His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah, well... what can I do, right?"

Por didn't say anything, just watched as Teetee grabbed another drink and knocked it back.

And then he kept drinking. And drinking.

At first, he was his usual self—loud, playful, teasing Por for drinking slower than him. But as the alcohol settled into his bloodstream, something shifted. The laughter in his voice faded, the brightness in his eyes dimmed.

Then, out of nowhere, he sighed. A deep, heavy sigh, one that didn't match his usual energy at all.

"You know, it's just me and her," Teetee murmured, his voice quieter now, less obnoxious. He traced his finger along the rim of his empty glass. "I don't have anyone else, Phi Por."

Por stiffened slightly at the way Teetee said his name, so soft, so unlike his usual teasing tone.

Teetee exhaled, his head lolling to the side as he stared down at the table. "I've been doing everything I can. Anything that can make me money—racing, fixing up cars, taking on any stupid side job I can find." His laugh was shaky now, humorless. "I just... I don't want her to go yet. She's the only one I have left."

Por felt something in his chest tighten.

The words were slipping from Teetee's mouth now, uncontrolled, raw. "I don't care how much it costs. I don't care what I have to do. I'll make sure she gets the best treatment, no matter what." His voice cracked slightly at the end, and he quickly turned his head away, like he didn't want Por to see him falter.

Por swallowed hard. He had never seen Teetee like this. Not once.

Then, before he could even think of something to say, Teetee abruptly pushed his empty glass aside and slumped forward onto the table, burying his face in his arms.

For a second, Por thought he had just passed out.

Then, he heard it.

A shaky inhale. A sniffle.

Por's breath hitched.

Teetee was crying.

He wasn't sobbing, wasn't wailing—just trembling slightly, his shoulders rising and falling unevenly as he tried to suppress the sounds. But the more he tried to hold it in, the worse it got. His fingers curled against the table, his whole body tense with the weight of everything he had been bottling up.

Por's throat went dry.

He wasn't supposed to see this.

Teetee was supposed to be loud, stubborn, annoyingly confident. He wasn't supposed to be like this—small, fragile, breaking apart right in front of him.

Without thinking, Por moved.

He reached across the table, hesitated for only a second, then placed his hand on Teetee's back. He expected Teetee to flinch, to pull away, to snap at him for seeing him like this.

But he didn't.

Instead, he let out a shaky breath, and the next thing Por knew, Teetee was moving toward him, pressing his face into Por's shoulder.

Por froze.

He could feel it now. The warmth of Teetee's body, the way he trembled slightly, the way his fingers clutched weakly at Por's sleeve.

And then, in a voice so small it almost didn't sound like him—

"Don't leave."

Por sucked in a breath.

Teetee's words were slurred, muddled by alcohol and exhaustion, but they hit Por like a punch to the gut.

"Stay," Teetee mumbled against him. "Just for a little while. Please, Phi Por."

Por clenched his jaw.

Slowly, carefully, he wrapped an arm around Teetee, holding him a little closer. "I won't," he murmured. "I'm right here."

Teetee let out a shaky breath, as if those words alone had finally let him relax. His grip on Por's sleeve loosened, his breathing steadied, and eventually, his weight grew heavier as he drifted off into a deep, alcohol-induced sleep.

Por stayed there for a long time, holding Teetee as he slept.

And that night, as he listened to the quiet sound of Teetee's breathing, he made a decision.

He didn't want to see Teetee cry again.

He didn't want to see him force a smile, pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.

So, he would do something about it.

Even if Teetee never found out.

Even if he got mad at him later.

Chapter Text

The racing site was buzzing.

Engines roared. Tires screeched. Laughter and cheers filled the humid night air.

And Teetee—

Teetee was in a bad mood.

Why?

Because that guy was here again.

The same one from before.

The same one who kept circling around Por like a fucking vulture.

And right now?

Right now, he was way too close.

Too close to Por's space.

Too close to Por's ear.

And worst of all—

Por wasn't pushing him away.

Teetee's grip on his drink tightened.

Because the worst part wasn't the flirting.

It was the fact that Por was just standing there.

Expression unreadable. Just... listening.

And Teetee hated it.

He could feel it—something ugly creeping up his throat.

That sick, suffocating weight in his chest.

The one that made his fingers twitch.

The one that made his jaw clench.

The one that whispered—

"That should be you."

That should be you, standing there.

That should be you, making him react.

That should be you, teasing him, making him roll his eyes, pushing him to his limit.

Not this random asshole.

Not someone who didn't even know what Por hated, what made him tick, what made him stay.

Not someone who didn't earn the right to get under his skin.

Teetee's blood boiled.

And before he even made the conscious decision—

He moved.

Across the lot.

Through the crowd.

Straight to Por's side.

And without warning—

He grabbed Por's wrist, Firm. Unyielding.

Por stiffened, his head turned.

Eyes wide—surprised.

And then—annoyed.

"What the hell—"

"Race with me." Teetee's voice was sharp.

Por blinked. "What?"

"Right now."

Por frowned. "The hell is wrong with you?"

"What, scared?" Teetee challenged, grip tightening just slightly.

Por's eyes flashed.

There it was. That fire.

"Tch." Por scoffed, yanking his wrist free. "Fine. Get your ass to the start line."

Teetee smirked. "Gladly."

And as he turned, stepping back toward his car, he made damn sure to glance at the guy still standing there—

The one who had been flirting with what was his.

And he made sure to smirk.

Possessive. Confident. Unshakable.

Because tonight?

Tonight, Por was racing with him.

And after that?

Teetee would make damn sure Por didn't have the energy to entertain anyone else.

>>>>>>>

The starting line buzzed with tension.

Engines growled, snarling like caged beasts, headlights cutting through the thick night air.

Por gripped his wheel, eyes locked on the road ahead. Focused. Steady. Ruthless.

But beside him—

Teetee was staring right at him.

Not at the road.

Not at the finish line.

At him.

And it burned.

Por **felt it—**that intensity, that heat, that undeniable challenge radiating off Teetee's stupid, cocky face.

He was pushing.

Pushing before the race even started.

Por's jaw tightened.

"Alright, asshole," he muttered under his breath. "Let's see how far you wanna take this."

The flag shot up.

Engines roared.

And then—

The race was on.

Por launched forward.

Teetee was right beside him.

Too close.

Way too close.

Por didn't move. Didn't back off.

Neither did Teetee.

They tore through the first stretch—a blur of metal, smoke, and sheer stubbornness.

Por pushed ahead.

Teetee pushed harder.

And then—

The first turn.

Sharp. Brutal. Unforgiving.

Por drifted through clean, calculated, inches from disaster.

And Teetee—

Teetee nearly clipped his back bumper.

Por's heart slammed against his ribs.

"What the fuck is he doing?!"

This wasn't just a race.

This was war.

Teetee was fighting him for every inch of the road, getting too close, taking risks that didn't make sense—

And Por knew.

He knew.

This wasn't about winning anymore.

This was about making a point.

Teetee was pissed.

And Por was going to pay for it.

Another turn.

Por cut the inside—quick, aggressive.

But Teetee—Teetee cut closer.

Too close.

Por's tires screamed against the pavement.

Teetee's car snapped sideways, nearly grazing Por's door—

Por swore under his breath.

"Crazy bastard."

Down the next stretch—Teetee surged forward, taking the lead.

Por's grip tightened.

He wouldn't let him.

He refused to let him.

The final turn loomed ahead.

Por braced himself.

One shot.

One chance to take back the lead.

And then—

Teetee did the unthinkable.

He braked.

Por's breath caught.

Because for a split second—just a split second—

Teetee looked at him.

Not at the road.

Not at the finish line.

At him.

And he grinned.

Cocky. Taunting. Daring.

"Catch me if you can, Phi Por."

Then—he floored it.

Por snapped.

He pushed down hard, tires screaming, closing the gap—

But it was too late.

Teetee was already gone.

And by the time Por shot across the finish line—

He was second.

Again.

Por slammed the brakes, car skidding to a stop.

Hands shaking.

Heart pounding.

And Teetee—

Teetee was already out of his car, waiting, jaw clenched. his eyes zeroed on Por.

Por shoved his door open, stepping out.

And before he could say a word—

Teetee was there.

Right in front of him. smirking. Close. Too close.

The air was thick, Charged.

Tension still crackled between them like the lingering hum of an engine that refused to die down.

Teetee had won. He should be gloating. Smug. Unbearable.

But he wasn't.

Something was wrong.

Por could see it. Feel it.

The way Teetee's smirk didn't quite reach his eyes.

The way his fingers twitched—like he was holding back something sharp, something ugly.

And Por?

Por was tired of playing dumb.

He exhaled, tilting his head.

"You raced like a maniac tonight."

Teetee clicked his tongue. "I won, didn't I?"

"That's not what I asked."

Silence.

A muscle in Teetee's jaw tensed.

Por crossed his arms.

"Spit it out." His voice was low, firm.

"What the hell's your problem?"

Teetee huffed. "You."

Por's brows shot up.

"Me?"

"Yeah, you."

Teetee finally looked at him, eyes dark, burning.

"Standing there, letting that asshole breathe down your neck like that. Acting like you didn't fucking notice."

Por blinked.

Then—

Oh.

Oh.

A slow smirk curled onto his lips.

"You were pissed about that?"

Teetee's eye twitched.

"I wasn't pissed—"

"You were fuming." Por stepped closer.

Teasing. Testing. Pushing.

"Is that why you nearly took my bumper off? Had to prove something, huh?"

Teetee's fists curled.

"Shut up."

"You got jealous—"

"I said shut up, Por."

Por froze.

Por. Not Phi Por. 

He doesn't like it.

And Teetee—

Teetee saw the flicker of irritation.

Saw it—and grinned.

"Ohhh, don't like that, huh?"

Por glared.

"I will slap you."

"Awww, you gonna hit me, Phi?" Teetee cooed, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Por wanted to strangle him.

But more than that—

More than anything—

Por wanted to know why it mattered so damn much to him.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"If you had a problem with it, why didn't you just say so?"

Teetee's expression darkened.

"Because I shouldn't have to." His voice was low. Rough.

"I shouldn't have to stand there, watching some random asshole put his hands on you—watching you just let him. I shouldn't have to be the one getting pissed about it. Because you should already know."

Por's breath caught.

Because that—

That was different.

That wasn't just teasing.

That wasn't just pushing.

That was Teetee laying it out in the open.

And for the first time—

For the first time since they started this game—

Por didn't know what the next move was.

Then Teetee's eyes flicker to a figure behind por.

Por followed his gaze. There. the same guy from earlier. He was waiting for Por.

Por saw it.

Saw the way Teetee's fingers twitched.

Saw the way his chest rose and fell too sharply, too forcefully.

Saw the way his eyes—dark, unreadable, burning— stayed glued to him.

And yet—

Yet, Por did nothing. A deep part of him wanted to push Teetee further.

but he said nothing.

He simply turned.

And walked back toward the guy from earlier.

The guy who had been flirting with him.

The guy Teetee had all but tried to run off the road tonight.

And Teetee?

Teetee stared. 

Por didn't even hesitate. 

Didn't look back.

Didn't even acknowledge that they had just—

That Teetee had just—

That he had fucking admitted it.

Instead, Por just kept talking.

To him.

To some random asshole who had no business standing so close.

Teetee's jaw locked.

His pulse thundered.

Something in his chest was tight, suffocating, twisting.

And then—

Then, the guy did the worst possible thing.

He laughed.

Laughed at something Por said, leaned in closer, brushed a hand against Por's arm—

And Teetee snapped.

Before he even knew what he was doing—

Before he could think, before he could talk himself out of it—

He moved.

Stormed across the lot.

Didn't hesitate. Didn't slow down.

And the second he was close enough—

He grabbed Por's wrist.

Again.

Forceful. Firm. Unyielding.

Por barely had time to react.

"The hell—"

"We're leaving."

Por blinked. "What?!"

Teetee didn't repeat himself.

He just tugged.

Hard.

Por stumbled forward, caught off guard, forced to follow.

"Teetee—let go!"

He didn't.

Didn't look back.

Didn't stop.

Didn't care about the people staring, whispering, watching.

All he cared about was that Por had pushed him too far this time.

And now?

Now, Por was going to deal with it.

>>>>>>>

The car was too quiet.

Not the kind of quiet that was comfortable. Not the kind that settled, easy and soft.

No—

This was the kind of quiet that suffocated.

That coiled tight, pressing into the lungs, thick and unbearable.

The kind that warned of a storm that hadn't hit yet—but was coming.

Por sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed.

Teetee's grip on the wheel was white-knuckled.

Neither of them spoke.

Not since Teetee had dragged him out of that parking lot.

Not since he had wrenched him away from that guy without a single damn explanation.

The engine hummed low.

The night outside blurred past in streaks of neon, flashing traffic lights, distant sirens.

Por could feel Teetee's anger.

It radiated off him in waves, thick, heavy, unshaken.

The way his fingers flexed against the wheel—tense, twitching, restless.

The way his leg bounced slightly, a telltale sign of frustration barely contained.

And worst of all—

The way he still hadn't looked at Por.

Not once.

That—that was what made the air thick.

Not the silence.

Not the reckless way Teetee was weaving through the streets, a little too fast, a little too sharp—

But the fact that he was refusing to look at him.

That meant he was really, truly furious.

Por shifted. His fingers curled against his arms, nails pressing into his skin.

He hated this.

Hated the way Teetee's silence unsettled him more than his usual teasing ever did.

Hated the way his own chest felt tight, uncertain, unfamiliar.

And he hated—

Hated the way his own voice sounded hesitant when he finally spoke.

"Teetee—"

"Don't."

Low. Sharp. Final.

Por's mouth snapped shut.

His pulse kicked.

Because Teetee never used that tone with him.

Never.

Por swallowed. His throat was dry. His heart was a mess.

He should say something.

He should be pissed too, right?

Teetee had dragged him away like a damn child.

Had yanked him out of that conversation, embarrassed him, acted like he had a say in who Por talked to.

Por should be yelling.

Snapping back.

Should be telling him to pull over, drop him off, leave him the hell alone.

But—

But he couldn't.

Because the air in the car was too thick.

Because Teetee's grip on the wheel was too tight.

Because Teetee's jaw was locked so hard it looked like he was barely keeping himself together.

And something about that—

Something about that made Por's anger twist into something else.

Something dangerous.

Something he wasn't ready to face.

So instead—

Instead, he did what he always did.

He pushed.

"So dramatic." Por scoffed, rolling his eyes. He leaned back, feigning nonchalance. "What, you're mad I wasn't hanging off your arm instead?"

The second the words left his mouth—

Teetee finally looked at him.

Por regretted it instantly.

Because oh, he had fucked up.

Teetee's eyes—

They weren't teasing.

They weren't playful.

They were dark. Intense. Unreadable.

A slow, humorless smirk pulled at Teetee's lips.

"Careful, Phi." His voice was low. Rough. Almost dangerous.

"You're real close to finding out exactly what would happen if you actually did hang off that motherfucker's arm."

Por's breath hitched.

And the air?

The air got even thicker.

The moment Teetee's foot slammed on the brakes, the car jerked to a stop.

Por barely had time to react before Teetee threw it into park, unbuckled his seatbelt, and turned.

And suddenly, the car felt too small.

Too enclosed.

Too dangerous.

"What the hell—" Por started, but his voice died in his throat.

Because Teetee was looking at him now.

Not just looking—pinning him in place.

Dark eyes, sharp and unreadable, locked onto him like a predator that had finally lost patience.

And then—

Then, he moved.

Slow. Deliberate.

Por barely had time to scoot back against the door before Teetee was leaning in, an arm braced against the seat beside him, caging him in.

"You wanna explain what the hell you were doing back there?" Teetee's voice was low. Dangerous.

Not playful.

Not teasing.

Not like before.

Por's fingers clenched against his lap. He swallowed hard.

"I—" His voice was weak.

Pathetic.

So he forced himself to glare instead.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong."

Teetee let out a breathless, humorless laugh.

"Oh, you weren't?"

Por's stomach tightened.

Teetee was too close.

So damn close that Por could see the tension in his jaw, the heat in his eyes, the way his fingers twitched like he was barely holding himself together.

"You wanted to piss me off, didn't you?" Teetee's voice dropped even lower. "You wanted to see how far I'd go."

Por's breath hitched.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Liar.

They both knew he was lying.

And Teetee—

Teetee was done playing along.

"You think I didn't notice?" His eyes burned into Por's. "The way you looked at me after I called you out? The way you smirked when I got mad?"

Por said nothing.

Because fuck, he had noticed.

Teetee tilted his head, smirk sharp, eyes unreadable.

"You like pushing me, Phi Por?"

Por's breath caught.

His name.

His damn name in that tone—low, taunting, knowing.

Teetee saw the way Por's fingers curled into his own jeans, gripping tight.

He saw it—and grinned.

"You really wanna know what happens when you push me too far?"

Por's heart slammed against his ribs.

He didn't answer.

Couldn't.

Not when the air between them was too thick.

Not when Teetee was too close.

Not when his own pulse was too loud in his ears.

And Teetee?

Teetee was watching him unravel.

Slow. Deliberate. Amused.

"You're not talking now, Phi." He hummed, voice like silk and fire. "What happened to all that attitude?"

Por's lips parted—to deny, to argue, to do something.

But Teetee just leaned in closer.

So close that Por could feel the warmth of his breath.

So close that Por couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but sit there and take it.

Teetee smiled. Dark. Knowing.

"That's what I thought."

Por hated how much that sent a full-body shiver down his spine.

And Teetee?

Teetee wasn't letting this go.

Not tonight.

Not until Por understood exactly what line he had just crossed.

The moment Teetee leaned in, so close their breaths mixed, so close his words were more felt than heard—

Por cracked.

The fire in his chest, the one that had been burning hot, sputtered.

The sharp, stubborn edge of his pride, the one that had kept him from backing down, dulled.

And in its place, something heavier settled.

Something tight.

Something uncomfortable.

Something he didn't know what to do with.

His pulse still thundered, his skin still tingled where Teetee's presence crowded him, but—

It wasn't the same.

Because now, all he could think about was—

Was he really that cruel?

Did he really push too far?

Did he really—

Por's lips parted, but no words came out.

Teetee noticed.

Of course he did.

He always noticed.

And instead of pushing further—instead of pressing the advantage—

He just watched.

Watched Por's shoulders slump, watched his hands unclench, watched his brows furrow as something like guilt flickered across his face.

Por licked his lips. Swallowed.

Then, voice small, barely above a whisper—

"...I didn't mean to make you mad."

The confession was so soft, it almost didn't sound like him.

And yet, it was real.

So real that Teetee actually froze.

He had braced for resistance.

Had been ready for Por to shove him, scoff, roll his eyes and make some snide remark.

Had been expecting one last fight.

Not this.

Not...

Not a quiet, guilty kitten staring at him with wide eyes and bitten lips, voice barely more than a breath.

Por shifted, gaze dropping to his lap, hands gripping the hem of his shirt.

"I just—" Another swallow. "I dunno. It was fun messing with you but—" A small fidget."I think I took it too far."*

Teetee just stared.

And for the first time ever—

Por squirmed under his silence.

"You don't have to look at me like that," he muttered, ears burning. "I'm already saying I feel bad."

Teetee exhaled, something in his chest loosening.

He hadn't expected this.

But he liked it.

Too much.

Too damn much.

"You're seriously apologizing right now, Phi?" His voice was still low, but this time, there was something different in it.

Something dangerous.

Because Por was too cute like this.

Too soft, too guilty, too precious.

And Teetee was definitely going to use this against him.

Por groaned, hiding his face behind his hands. "Oh my god, just accept it and move on!"

Teetee smirked. "Say it again."

Por peeked out, suspicious. "What?"

"Say it again." Teetee leaned in, grinning. "I wanna hear Phi Por admit he was wrong."

Por's ears turned red.

"Teetee—!"

Por regretted everything.

Not just tonight.

Not just the teasing.

Not just pushing Teetee too far.

No—

He regretted ever giving Teetee the slightest bit of leverage.

Because now, the little shit was milking it.

"Aww, Phi Por feels guilty?" Teetee cooed, dragging out the words like he was talking to a damn kitty. "That's adorable."

Por's entire face burned.

He gritted his teeth, trying to turn away, but Teetee wouldn't let him.

"C'mon," Teetee grinned, tilting his head playfully. "Say it again. Properly this time."

Por groaned.

"I already said it—"

"Mmm, I dunno," Teetee interrupted, tapping his chin. "Didn't sound sincere enough."

Por glared.

Teetee smirked.

And somehow—somehow—Por knew that the more annoyed he looked, the worse this was gonna get.

Teetee was enjoying this.

Way, way too much.

Por inhaled, exhaled. He could do this.

He could just say it, let Teetee have his fun, and they could move on.

He could—

"I'm sorry, Nong Teetee," he mumbled, stiffly.

A beat of silence.

Then—

Teetee let out the most obnoxious, dramatic gasp.

"Did Phi Por just call me Nong?" he mocked, eyes sparkling.

Por's hands clenched.

"Shut up—"

"No, no, say it again!" Teetee laughed, draping himself across the center console, way too entertained.

Por physically shrank into his seat.

"I hate you so much," he muttered under his breath.

"Say it louder, Phi," Teetee sang.

"I—" Por clenched his jaw. "—hate. You."

Teetee grinned, unfazed.

"No, no, the other thing," he insisted, voice all sugar-coated evil.

Por was going to die here.

Right here, in this damn car, on the side of the road, with Teetee's insufferable, cocky ass grinning down at him like he was the funniest person alive.

Absolutely humiliating.

Por sucked in a breath.

Then, through clenched teeth—

"I'm sorry."

Teetee beamed.

"There you go, cute one"

Por short-circuited.

His entire body overheated in one single second.

"What the hell—" his voice cracked, completely losing composure.

Teetee just smirked wider.

"Ohhh, Phi, don't like that?" He tilted his head, grinning. "Why are you blushing then?"

Por grabbed the car door handle, fully ready to escape.

But Teetee was faster.

"Ah, ah, ah—no running away, kitten."

Por whipped around, horrified. "DID YOU JUST—"

Teetee cackled out loud his lungs almost burst.

"Kitten."

Por lunged for him.

And Teetee?

Teetee just laughed harder.

Because now, he had endless material to tease Phi Por with.

>>>>>>>

Por should've jumped out of the damn car when he had the chance.

But now?

Now, he was stuck.

Stuck in Teetee's trap.

Stuck in Teetee's car.

Stuck with Teetee's smug little ass enjoying every second of his misery.

And worst of all—

They had a long ride back to his mansion.

Por stared dead ahead, jaw clenched, arms crossed, eyes burning holes into the windshield.

Teetee, on the other hand, couldn't stop grinning.

"You're being awfully quiet, Phi," he mused, tapping the steering wheel, voice dripping with amusement. "What happened ?"

Por stayed silent.

Not because he had nothing to say.

No, he had too much to say.

But the moment he opened his mouth, Teetee would use it against him.

And he refused to dig a deeper grave.

Teetee hummed.

"Ohhh, are you pouting?"

Por twitched.

Teetee glanced over, eyes twinkling.

"You totally are."

Por inhaled sharply through his nose.

Teetee bit back a laugh.

"Poor little kitten," he cooed. "So grumpy now."

Por physically winced.

The nickname. Again.

Teetee wasn't letting this go.

He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, turning to smirk at Por. "You gonna scratch me, Phi? Bite me?"

Por snapped his head toward him, eyes blazing.

"I swear to—" But the words choked off when he realized.

Teetee Was laughing.

Actually laughing, the kind that shook his shoulders and made his nose scrunch up and his dimple show.

Not teasing.

Not taunting.

Just pure amusement.

And somehow, that made it worse.

Por hated him.

Hated how stupidly good he looked laughing.

Hated how warm his chest felt despite the humiliation.

Hated how the only thing he could do was sit there and suffer while Teetee enjoyed himself all the way to his stupidly large house.

And Teetee?

Teetee was living for this.

"Don't worry, kitten," he sighed dramatically, as if this was exhausting for him. "I'll forgive you eventually."

Por hissed.

But that only made Teetee laugh harder.

And so, the rest of the drive was pure hell.

By the time they reached Por's mansion, his pride was fully in ruins.

And Teetee?

Teetee was still grinning.

>>>>>>>

Por was seconds away from freedom.

The car had finally rolled to a stop in front of his family's mansion.

The gates loomed ahead. Safety.

All he had to do was unbuckle his seatbelt, step out, and pretend this night never happened.

But Teetee—

Teetee wasn't about to let him off that easy.

"Not so fast, Phi."

Por's fingers froze on the seatbelt.

Slowly, hesitantly, he turned his head—

And immediately regretted it.

Because Teetee was leaning in, elbow propped against the door, hand under his chin, watching him like a cat that caught a mouse.

Like he wasn't done playing yet.

Por braced himself. "...What now."

Teetee smiled.

"You're leaving just like that?" he asked, tilting his head.

Por frowned. "What else am I supposed to do?"

"Mmm." Teetee tapped his chin. "Maybe say thank you?"

Por's face twitched. "For what?"

"For bringing you home, obviously," Teetee grinned. "For taking care of you. For forgiving you."

Por stared.

Teetee beamed.

And then—

"For letting you go."

Por's stomach flipped.

Because the way Teetee said it—

The way his voice dropped, slow and teasing, like he was actually considering not letting him go—

Made something in Por's chest tighten.

He gulped.

"...You're joking."

Teetee leaned closer. "Am I?"

Por swallowed again. "Teetee, open the door."

"Hmm. Say please."

Por's eye twitched. "No."

"Then I guess you're staying the night."

Por's entire body locked up.

"Teetee."

"What, Phi?" Teetee's smile was all sharp edges now, all cruel amusement.

Like he was enjoying this way too much.

Which—of course he was.

Por gritted his teeth.

He refused to let Teetee win.

"Fine," he snapped. "Thank you. Happy?"

Teetee hummed. "Mmm, I dunno..."

Por clenched his fists.

Teetee dragged it out, watching him squirm.

Then—

"Alright, kitten. You're free."

The locks clicked open. Por launched out of the car.

But before he could slam the door, Teetee called out one last thing—

"Sweet dreams, Phi Por~"

Por ignored it. Did not turn around. Did not respond.

Just stormed into his house, cheeks burning, heart racing, pride in absolute shambles.

And behind him—Teetee laughed.

Because that reaction Was worth everything.

Chapter Text

Teetee wasn’t expecting anything unusual when he walked up to the front desk. He had his wallet in hand, ready to settle another round of payments. But then the nurse looked up at him, blinked in recognition, and said, "Oh, there’s no need for that. The bill was already taken care of this morning."

Teetee’s fingers twitched around his wallet. "What?"

"Yes," the nurse replied, flipping through some paperwork. "Mr. Suppakarn settled it earlier today."

That name hit him like a slap to the face.

Por.

Teetee felt his stomach drop. His grip on the wallet tightened as he forced himself to keep his expression neutral.

"Right," he muttered, barely registering the nurse’s polite nod before he turned away.

His steps were brisk as he made his way toward his grandma’s room, but his mind was a mess.

Por paid for it.

Por paid for it.

Por fucking paid for it.

What the hell did that mean? Why would he do that? What did he want in return?

Teetee burst into the hospital room without thinking. His grandma looked up from her bed, smiling warmly at him.

"Teetee, you’re back," she greeted. "Your friend was just here this morning."

His chest felt tight. "Por came?"

She nodded. "He brought me some lovely fruits. Sat with me for a while, talked to the doctor too. Such a polite young man."

Teetee could barely hear her past the ringing in his ears.

Por had come here. Talked to the doctor. Paid the damn bill.

Like Teetee was some helpless little street rat who needed saving.

His jaw clenched, anger bubbling up in his chest. He had fought his whole life not to be a charity case. To stand on his own two feet, to handle things by himself. And then here came rich, perfect, untouchable Suppakarn, sweeping in like some hero, throwing money around like it wouldn’t completely humiliate Teetee in the process.

Was it pity? Was that what this was? Did Por think Teetee was too poor, too weak, too damn incapable of handling his own family's problems?

His throat tightened.

He hated this. Hated the thought of Por looking at him that way.

"Teetee?" His grandma’s voice was gentle, but he barely registered it.

He needed air.

Without another word, he turned and walked out, ignoring the way she called after him.

The racing site was alive with noise—engines roaring, laughter, the scent of gasoline thick in the air. But for Teetee, everything felt muted, like the world had dulled to a low hum under the weight of his fury. His heart pounded against his ribs as he stormed through the crowd, shoving past racers and onlookers, ignoring the way heads turned at his sudden entrance.

And there he was.

Por stood near his car, looking calm as ever, oblivious to the storm heading his way. His arms were crossed, his usual unreadable expression in place. But Teetee didn't care about that stupid, cold mask tonight.

Teetee’s blood boiled.

He didn’t think. Didn’t hesitate.

He just walked straight up to him and shoved him.

Hard.

Por stumbled back a step, eyes widening slightly before snapping to Teetee, brows furrowing. "What the hell—"

"You think you're fucking funny?" Teetee spat, voice sharp enough to cut glass.

Por blinked, taken aback. "What?"

"You think I wouldn't find out?" Teetee's breath was uneven, his chest rising and falling too quickly. "Paying my grandma’s hospital bill—what, you thought I’d be grateful?"

Por’s lips pressed into a thin line. "She needed help."

Teetee let out a bitter laugh. "Help?" His voice wavered, and he hated it. "Help, Phi Por? I don't need your fucking pity!"

"It’s not pity." Por’s voice was calm, but his expression had shifted—jaw tight, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. "I was just—"

"You were just what?" Teetee cut him off, stepping closer, shoving at Por’s chest again, harder this time. "Trying to make yourself feel better? Feel like a good person?" His breath hitched, voice raw, cracking against his will. "You think throwing money at me is gonna make up for the fact that you look down on me?"

Por exhaled sharply through his nose, patience thinning. "Look down on you?" He repeated, and there was something dangerous in his voice now. "Is that really what you think?"

Teetee scoffed, but it sounded more like a choked breath. "I don’t think, Phi Por. I know."

And that was when Por snapped.

"Well, you started it first!"

His voice was loud now, enough to make the people around them pause.

Teetee flinched. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Por stepped in this time, voice low, biting. "You are so fucking annoying, you know that?"

Teetee felt his stomach drop.

Por wasn’t done. "You barged into my life, annoyed the shit out of me, never gave me a moment of peace. And when I told you to go away, you never did."

Teetee’s breath caught, but Por kept going.

"So why the fuck should I listen to you now?"

The words landed like a slap, but Teetee forced himself to stay standing.

"I never asked you to be around me anyway," Por continued, voice quieter now, but somehow, it hurt worse. "I never wanted you to."

Teetee felt like he had been punched in the gut.

For a moment, he didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t speak.

His lips parted slightly, like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. Just silence.

The longest silence Por had ever heard from him.

And then, finally, Teetee whispered, "So you don’t want me around you?"

Por's stomach twisted.

Something in his brain screamed at him to fix this, to take it back, but he hesitated—just for a second, just long enough.

And Teetee took it as an answer.

The sharp, burning pain in his chest spread so fast it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

He knew it.

He knew he was a nuisance. He knew he was too much, too loud, too reckless, too fucking persistent.

But for some reason, he thought—

He thought maybe Por had gotten used to it.

Maybe Por had stopped hating him.

Guess he was wrong.

He swallowed, something flickering in his eyes—something Por couldn’t place. And then, without warning, he grabbed Por’s wrist, yanking his own hand off like he couldn’t stand the feeling of him.

Por stumbled slightly at the force, completely caught off guard.

Teetee stepped back. His jaw clenched so tight it looked painful. His hands were shaking. His voice came out quieter, but somehow, it hit Por harder than all his yelling combined.

"Fine, Phi Por."

Por’s heart dropped.

"If that’s what you want."

"Teetee, wait—" Por's voice cracked, but Teetee didn’t stop.

Didn’t even flinch.

Por reached for him, desperate, grabbing his wrist, but Teetee yanked himself free with so much force that Por stumbled back.

"You don’t get to stop me, P’Por."

Teetee's voice was low, shaking, but there was no fire this time. Just something raw. Something wounded.

No, that wasn’t what he meant. But before he could say anything, Teetee was already turning away, his shoulders tense.

Por watched him disappear into the crowd, the usual bounce in his step missing, his shoulders tense like he was holding back something heavy.

And for the first time, Por felt like he had actually lost.

>>>>>>

Por convinced himself it was nothing.

Teetee was dramatic—always dramatic. He'd get pissed, sure, but he'd cool down. He always did.

Maybe he'd sulk for a day, but then he'd be back, sticking to Por's side like a damn leech, messing with his car, throwing an arm around his shoulder, flashing that infuriating grin—

But the next night at the racing site, Teetee wasn't any of those things.

He was quiet.

Not in an obvious, brooding way. He was still there, still laughing with the others, still cracking jokes. But he didn't look at Por. Didn't talk to him. Didn't even acknowledge him.

Por stood by his car, arms crossed, brows furrowed as he watched from afar. Waiting.

He'll come over.

He always did.

But Teetee didn't.

Not even once.

Por's fingers twitched against his jacket's sleeve.

Something felt wrong.

The others didn't seem to notice. To them, Teetee was the same as ever, cracking jokes, flipping his keys between his fingers, leaning against his car like he owned the whole damn street.

But Por noticed.

Teetee didn't once steal his drink just to be annoying.

Didn't once come over to flick his forehead or ruffle his hair.

Didn't once lean into his space like he had every right to be there.

Por's stomach twisted.

It wasn't just anger.

It wasn't just moodiness.

Teetee was really avoiding him.

The realization settled in his chest like lead, heavy and suffocating.

Por gritted his teeth.

Fine.

If Teetee wasn't going to come to him, then Por would—

"Yo, Por." Auau clapped a hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Race is about to start. You good?"

Por blinked. His focus shifted back to the present, but he couldn't ignore the cold pit in his stomach.

"Yeah," he muttered. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't.

And when he glanced at Teetee one last time, only to see him laughing at something someone else said—

Por clenched his jaw.

For the first time, he realized—

Maybe Teetee actually meant it.

Maybe he really was done with him.

And for some reason, that thought made Por feel like he was losing more than just an annoying rival.

It felt like he was losing everything.

>>>>>>>

For the first time in forever, Teetee wasn't looking for Por.

It wasn't like he didn't know where he was. He always knew. Even without trying, his eyes had a way of finding Por in the crowd, like they were drawn to him by instinct.

But tonight, he forced himself not to look.

Instead, he threw himself into conversation, laughing at whatever dumb joke someone made, cracking one of his own, pretending like everything was fine. Like he wasn't hyperaware of the fact that Por was sitting all alone a few feet away, not speaking to anyone.

It shouldn't bother him. Por wanted this, right?

Teetee clenched his jaw, nails pressing into his palm. He forced himself to focus on the laughter around him, the warmth of the streetlights, the smell of fuel in the air—anything but the aching feeling deep in his chest.

But then, in a moment of weakness, his gaze flickered toward Por.

He wished he hadn't looked.

Por was sitting on the hood of his car, elbows on his knees, hands loosely clasped. His eyes—usually sharp, usually filled with some kind of emotion, whether it be annoyance, competitiveness, or frustration—were dull. His face was blank, completely unreadable, but his eyes look...

Sad.

The sight made Teetee's stomach twist painfully.

This was what Por wanted, wasn't it? He was the one who told Teetee to stop sticking around. He was the one who said he was annoying.

But then why did he look so—

Teetee clenched his fists. No. He wasn't going to feel bad. Por didn't want him around? Fine.

So why did it feel like Teetee was punishing himself too?

He turned away before his resolve could crack.

But as much as he tried to pretend, as much as he forced laughter and fake smiles...

His heart wasn't in it.

Because no matter how much he told himself otherwise, no matter how hard he tried not to care,

He missed him.

>>>>>>>

After the race, Teetee wiped the sweat off his forehead, sighing as he rolled his shoulders. His body was exhausted, but his mind was worse—too full, too restless. The past few days had been rough, and the weight of ignoring Por was starting to press down on him in a way he didn't like. But he was stubborn, so he forced himself to shake it off.

As he made his way toward his car, he stopped in his tracks when he saw a familiar figure curled up on one of the leather couches in the corner of his garage. His breath caught in his throat.

Por.

The usually put-together, always composed Por was slumped there, fast asleep. His arms were crossed loosely, his head tilted slightly to the side, and his mouth was parted just enough to let out soft, steady breaths. He looked exhausted, and yet, peaceful in a way that made something squeeze painfully in Teetee's chest.

Teetee turned to one of his friends, who had been watching over the sleeping figure. "Why is he here?" he asked, voice quieter than usual.

His friend shrugged. "He came a while ago. Said he'd wait for you."

Teetee felt his chest tighten, fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

This idiot.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck before stepping closer, crouching beside the couch. Up close, Por's lashes cast faint shadows over his cheekbones, his usually sharp expression softened by sleep. Teetee hated how easily his heart ached at the sight.

Por shifted slightly, lips parting as he mumbled something incoherent. Teetee frowned, leaning in just a little—until he heard it.

"...Tee..."

Teetee's breath hitched.

Por was mumbling his name.

Teetee clenched his jaw, cursing under his breath. Why did he have to do this? Why did he have to show up, wait for him, and then fall asleep like this—like he belonged here?

Like Teetee hadn't spent days trying to keep his distance.

"Damn it, Phi Por," he muttered under his breath before shaking his head.

He stood up, grabbing a blanket from the nearby shelf before carefully draping it over Por's sleeping form. His fingers hovered near Por's face for just a second before he pulled away, stuffing his hands into his pockets instead.

Turning back to his friend, Teetee sighed. "Keep an eye on him for me," he said. "Make sure he's okay."

His friend gave him a knowing look but nodded. "Got it."

Teetee lingered for a moment longer, taking in the sight of Por buried under the blanket, still mumbling his name in his sleep. Then, with one last deep breath, he forced himself to walk away—ignoring the way his heart screamed at him to stay.

As Teetee turned to leave, something gnawed at him. He hesitated for a moment before huffing out a sigh and making a quick detour to a nearby convenience store.

Fifteen minutes later, he returned with a small plastic bag in hand. He walked past the couch where Por was still fast asleep, this time careful not to stop and stare for too long. Instead, he went straight to his friend, shoving the bag into her hands.

"Keep this in the fridge," he muttered.

His friend raised an eyebrow before peeking inside. "Mango ice cream?" she asked, amused.

Teetee rolled his eyes, shifting awkwardly. "Yeah. Give it to him when he wakes up."

His friend smirked. "You could always stay and give it to him yourself."

Teetee scoffed, ignoring the way his ears burned. "I could. But I won't."

His friend just laughed, shaking her head. "You're so obvious, you know that?"

Teetee clicked his tongue, refusing to acknowledge her words. He gave one last glance toward Por, still curled up under the blanket, before stuffing his hands into his pockets and turning away.

"Just make sure he eats it," he said over his shoulder before walking off, pretending like he wasn't already thinking about how Por would react when he woke up.

The next morning, Por stirred awake, blinking groggily at the soft sunlight seeping through the garage windows. His body ached slightly from sleeping on the couch, and for a moment, he was disoriented, wondering why he wasn't in his own bed.

Then he remembered—he had come here last night, waiting for Teetee.

With a quiet sigh, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slowly sat up, his blanket pooling around his waist. That's when he noticed someone standing nearby.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Teetee's friend teased, leaning against a tool bench with a smirk.

Por frowned. "What time is it?" His voice was raspy with sleep.

"Almost noon."

Por stiffened. "What?" He immediately reached for his phone, only to realize his battery was dead. Great.

"Relax," she said, holding something out to him. "Here."

Por blinked down at the small cup of mango ice cream in her hand, still cold from the fridge. He frowned in confusion. "What's this?"

She rolled her eyes. "What does it look like? Ice cream."

Por's brows knitted together as he hesitated. "Why...?"

His friend huffed, clearly growing impatient. "Because Teetee bought it for you last night, genius."

Por froze.

A strange warmth spread through his chest as he stared at the ice cream, as if trying to confirm that it was real.

"...He bought this?" His voice was quieter this time, unsure.

She sighed dramatically. "Yes, he did. And he told me to make sure you eat it."

Por swallowed, his fingers twitching slightly before he finally took the cup from her hands. He stared at it for a few seconds, his heart feeling oddly tight.

Teetee had been ignoring him for days. But he still did this?

Something about that realization made Por's chest ache in a way he didn't quite understand.

He opened the lid and took a small bite, letting the familiar sweetness melt on his tongue.

"...It's good," he muttered.

His friend grinned. "Yeah? Then you should probably go thank him later."

Por didn't respond immediately. He just stared down at the ice cream, his grip tightening around the cup.

Chapter Text

It took Por 3 days to notice.

Three days without Teetee in his space.

Three days of silence, of no teasing, no taunting, no annoying smirks.

Three days of...

Something missing.

And Por hated it.

Maybe it was exactly what Por had always wanted—some damn peace.

But then another night passed. Another race. Another crowd.

And still, no Teetee.

No teasing. No mocking "P'Por" whispered in his ear.

And Por... Por actually caught himself looking for him.

He stood near his car, arms crossed, scanning the crowd like he wasn't doing exactly that.

He saw the usual people. The guys setting up bets, the girls clinging to the racers, the new challengers lining up, trying to prove themselves.

But no Teetee.

And Por hated how much that bothered him.

It wasn't like he cared. It wasn't like he enjoyed the way Teetee used to press too close, or how he'd say things just to get under Por's skin. It wasn't like he missed the way Teetee would—

"You shouldn't look so good when you're scared."

Por inhaled sharply.

That moment had been nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

But his fingers still twitched like they could feel Teetee's shirt in his grip. His chest still felt tight like Teetee was still there, smirking like he owned the moment.

And then, finally—Por saw him.

Across the lot.

Leaning against a car.

Surrounded by people.

Laughing.

Like nothing was wrong.

Like he hadn't spent weeks getting under Por's skin only to act like he didn't care anymore.

And that pissed Por off.

Because what the hell?

So Por moved before he could think. Before he could convince himself that this was stupid, that he didn't care.

He cut through the crowd, heading straight for him.

And when he got close enough, Teetee finally noticed.

And didn't react.

Just flicked his eyes over Por—once—before going right back to his conversation.

Like Por wasn't even there.

Por's jaw tightened.

"Oh," Teetee finally said, barely sparing him a glance. "What's up, P'Por?"

His tone was casual. Neutral. Like Por was just some random guy.

And for some reason, that got under Por's skin worse than anything else.

"You tell me," Por said, crossing his arms. "You've been avoiding me. "

Teetee blinked. Then—he laughed.

"Avoiding?" he echoed, shaking his head with a small smirk. "Nah, Phi. You told me to never be around you anymore."

Por huffed. "I never said that."

"You meant it like that" Teetee's voice was light, like this didn't matter, like he wasn't doing this on purpose. "You always made it pretty clear."

Something in Por's chest twisted.

He should be relieved. Should be happy that Teetee had finally let him go.

But all he felt was frustration.

Because why now?

Why did he have to stop when Por had already gotten used to it?

He cleared his throat. "So that's it?"

Teetee finally looked at him fully.

For a second—just a second—Por thought he saw something in his eyes. Something unreadable.

But then Teetee just grinned.

"Guess so," he said easily. "Unless... you miss me, Phi?"

Por froze.

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.

And Teetee...

Teetee just watched him.

Like he was waiting.

Like he knew.

Por forced a scoff, looking away. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Mm." Teetee hummed, that stupid smirk still there.

But this time, it didn't feel teasing.

It felt like...Like he knew something Por didn't.

And for the first time—Por didn't feel like he was winning.

>>>>>>>

Por wasn't sleeping.

He wasn't eating much, either, but that was beside the point.

Because it had been a week.

A whole damn week since Teetee had stopped paying him any attention.

And Por hated it.

He didn't even notice at first—at least, that's what he told himself. But then little things started standing out.

Like how the nights at the race track weren't as loud anymore.

Like how the tension that usually buzzed in his veins whenever Teetee was around had turned into something hollow.

Like how he kept expecting a voice at his ear, a hand on his shoulder, a smirk waiting for him—

But it never came.

And he hated that it mattered.

He told himself it was peaceful. That this was what he had wanted. That finally, finally, he could race without some reckless, cocky idiot hovering over him, pushing him, teasing him.

But instead of relief, all Por felt was—

Restless.

Annoyed.

Like something was missing.

And it only got worse.

Because Teetee wasn't just ignoring him.

He was thriving.

Laughing too loud, leaning too close to other people, talking like Por wasn't even there.

Like he never had been.

And Por didn't know why that pissed him off so much.

It wasn't like they were friends. It wasn't like he had ever wanted Teetee's attention in the first place.

So why—

Why did it feel like he had lost something?

Why did he keep looking whenever he heard Teetee's voice? Why did his fingers twitch like they were still curled in Teetee's stupid, soft shirt?

Why did he miss the way Teetee used to say his name?

"P'Por, you get jealous so easily."

Por gritted his teeth, gripping the steering wheel harder.

He wasn't jealous.

He wasn't.

He just... didn't like being ignored.

Yeah. That was it.

That was all it was.

So why the hell was he watching Teetee right now, across the lot, talking to someone else, smirking like he used to smirk at Por?

Por's jaw tightened.

And before he could stop himself—before he could think—

He was moving.

Straight towards Teetee.

Straight towards the problem.

And this time, he wasn't going to let him walk away.

Por didn't know why he was moving.

Didn't know why he was marching straight towards Teetee, through the crowd, past the noise, past the people who weren't the problem.

His body acted before his brain could tell him this is stupid.

Before his pride could remind him you don't care.

All he knew was that he had to do something.

Because Teetee was right there.

Talking to someone new. Smirking like he always did. Like he hadn't spent weeks chasing after Por, getting under his skin—only to suddenly stop.

Like it had never mattered.

Like Por had never mattered.

Por stopped right in front of him.

Didn't speak at first. Didn't even think about what he was about to say.

He just—stood there.

Waiting.

Teetee's eyes flicked up, lazily, slowly.

And when he saw who it was—

Nothing.

No surprise. No irritation.

Just a slight raise of an eyebrow, like Por was a mild inconvenience.

That pissed him off more than anything.

"Oh," Teetee said, voice light, casual. "You again."

Por's jaw clenched. "What the hell is your problem?"

Teetee blinked once. Then—he laughed.

A short, amused sound.

"Me?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "What'd I do this time, Phi?"

Phi.

That stupid, mocking "Phi."

Por had hated it from the start.

But now—now—he hated the way it felt empty.

Like it didn't mean anything anymore.

Like Teetee wasn't trying to piss him off—just saying it out of habit.

Like he really, truly didn't care.

Por inhaled sharply. "You—"

But he didn't know what to say.

What was he even mad about?

That Teetee was ignoring him?

That he had finally gotten what he wanted?

That it didn't feel as good as it should?

Teetee watched him. Really watched him.

Then—his smirk shifted.

And Por knew.

Knew he had given himself away.

Because Teetee saw it.

Saw straight through him.

And then Teetee grinned, slow and dangerous.

"Oh," he murmured, voice dropping just enough that only Por could hear. "I get it now."

Por stiffened.

"Get what?"

Teetee leaned in slightly, not touching, not teasing, just close enough to make Por's pulse spike.

"You miss me, don't you, P'Por?"

Por froze.

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.

And Teetee—he saw it.

His smirk deepened. "Damn," he whispered. "You actually do."

"I don't," Por snapped immediately, too fast, too sharp.

Teetee just laughed.

And that was worse.

Because it wasn't mocking.

It wasn't even playful.

It was satisfied.

Like he had already won.

Por clenched his fists. "You're delusional."

"Mmm," Teetee hummed, rocking back on his heels. "Maybe. Or maybe you just don't like being ignored."

Por exhaled slowly. "I don't care what you do."

"Yeah?" Teetee stepped closer again. Lowered his voice just enough. "Then why are you here, Phi?"

Por had no answer.

He had never been good at lying.

And Teetee had never been good at letting things go.

Teetee's smile turned razor-sharp. Relentless.

"You should've just said something sooner," he murmured, voice almost mockingly gentle. "I would've given you all the attention you wanted, P'Por."

Por's face burned.

Something in his chest twisted. Hard.

Because Teetee was playing with him.

And Por didn't even know who was winning anymore.

Teetee leaned in, slow, deliberate, just close enough for Por to feel the heat of him.

"Say it," he murmured.

Por's breath hitched. "Say what?"

Teetee's voice dipped lower. Smoother.

"Say you miss me."

Silence.

Heavy. Suffocating.

And Por didn't know what would be worse.

Saying it—or staying silent and letting Teetee hear the truth anyway.

Por was drowning.

Teetee was too close. His voice was too smooth. His eyes were too knowing.

"Say it."

Por's breath hitched.

He wanted to walk away. Wanted to pretend this wasn't happening. Wanted to act like he didn't care.

But his body wouldn't move.

His heart was beating too fast. His fists were clenched too tight.

And Teetee was just standing there.

Waiting.

Watching.

Because he knew.

Knew that Por was breaking.

Knew that Por was already his.

"Say you miss me, Phi."

Por swallowed hard. "Shut up."

Teetee's smirk didn't fade.

Instead, it softened. Turned sharper. More dangerous.

"You can't even lie properly," he murmured.

Por's jaw tightened. "I don't—"

But his voice betrayed him.

It wavered. Just slightly. Just enough.

And Teetee—Teetee caught it immediately.

His smirk deepened.

"Come on," he whispered, stepping closer, forcing Por to either hold his ground or back away. "Just say it."

Por inhaled sharply.

His whole body was on fire.

Teetee had done this before—gotten too close, pushed too hard, whispered things he shouldn't.

But this time was different.

Because this time, Por wanted it.

And he hated that.

Hated that Teetee had ruined him this easily.

Hated that, after days of silence, it took only minutes for him to fall apart.

And Teetee saw it.

Saw it in the way Por was shaking, in the way his breathing was uneven, in the way he was trying so damn hard to keep it together.

And Teetee was cruel.

He leaned in just a little more.

Not touching. Not teasing. Just close enough to destroy him.

"Say it, P'Por," he murmured. "Or I swear I'll make you regret it."

Por's chest tightened. 

His nails dug into his palms. His face burned. His whole body was screaming, don't say it, don't say it, don't say it—

"I miss you."

The words slipped out.

Soft. Unsteady. Too real.

Por's eyes widened.

His stomach dropped.

Because he had just—

Teetee froze.

For a second, just a second, Por thought maybe he hadn't heard. Maybe he could take it back, pretend it never happened—

And then Teetee's expression changed.

His smirk didn't come back.

Instead—he grinned.

Slow. Dangerous. Victorious.

And then—he laughed.

Soft, low, thrilled.

Por's face burned hotter.

Because he knew.

He had just lost.

And Teetee was going to make sure he never forgot it.

Teetee didn't stop smiling.

Didn't move, didn't speak. Just stood there, grinning at Por like he had just won the biggest bet of his life.

And Por—Por was falling apart.

He could hear the words echoing in his own head.

"I miss you."

He actually said it. Out loud. To Teetee.

And Teetee—Teetee was eating it up.

Por's ears burned. His fingers twitched. He wanted to say something, anything, to take it back—but Teetee was already leaning in again.

This time, closer than ever.

"Wow," Teetee murmured, voice too smooth, too pleased. "You actually said it."

Por's fists clenched. "Shut—"

Before he could finish, Teetee tilted his head.

And suddenly—his lips were right next to Por's ear.

Not touching. Just there.

Close enough for Por to feel his breath.

Close enough to ruin him.

"You should've said it sooner, Phi," Teetee whispered. Low. Warm. Amused.

Por's entire body locked up.

His heartbeat slammed against his ribs.

Because what the hell was this?

He had spent weeks dodging Teetee's flirting, shoving him away, pretending he didn't care—only to be the one to fold first.

And now Teetee was just—standing there.

Like he wasn't going to use it against him.

Like he wasn't going to tease him, laugh at him, drag him through hell.

Instead—he was being gentle.

And that was so much worse.

Por exhaled shakily. "Are you done?"

Teetee chuckled. "Not even close."

Por braced himself.

Waited for the teasing. The gloating. The I told you so.

But instead—Teetee did something worse.

He reached up.

And he fixed Por's collar.

Just that.

Just a slow, casual touch—his fingers brushing against Por's skin for half a second.

And Por—Por completely forgot how to breathe.

"That's your reward," Teetee murmured, stepping back, hands in his pockets, smirk still lingering on his lips. "For finally admitting it."

Por stared at him.

What the hell just happened?

Teetee wasn't mocking him. Wasn't shoving it in his face.

No. He was doing something worse.

He was making Por want more.

And Por hated him for it.

Teetee flashed a lazy grin, already turning away. "See you tomorrow, P'Por."

Por opened his mouth. Closed it.

Because he knew.

Knew that tomorrow, he'd be here again.

Waiting.

Wanting.

And Teetee—he knew it too.

>>>>>>>

Por was not fine.

He realized this the moment Teetee strolled in like he owned the world, sliding into the seat across from him at the café, grinning like a devil in disguise.

Like he knew.

Por barely glanced up from his coffee. "What do you want?"

Teetee propped his chin on one hand. "You."

Por choked.

He set his cup down too hard, glaring. "Shut up."

Teetee just chuckled. "Aw, you're shy today, P'Por?"

"Shut. Up."

Teetee leaned closer. "You miss me today too?"

Por's face burned.

And Teetee?

He just laughed.

Because he won. Again.

>>>>>

Por had been avoiding Teetee for days. 

Ignoring texts. Leaving early. Finding excuses.

But of course, Patji ruined everything.

"Let's go out," Patji had said.
"It's just dinner," he had said.
"It's not a trap," he had said.

Lies.

Because the second Por arrived at the rooftop restaurant, he spotted Teetee sitting at the table. Waiting. Smiling. Like he had planned this all along.

Por immediately turned to leave.

"Ah, ah, ah," Patji grabbed his collar, dragging him back. "I already ordered for four people. You're not embarrassing me today."

Four?

Por frowned. "Who's the fourth?"

Patji smirked.

And right on cue—Pie came running up, hugging Por's waist.

"P'Por!" she beamed. "I missed you!"

Por froze.

Patji knew he couldn't say no now.

And Teetee? Oh, he was enjoying this.

"Wow, you really were avoiding me, Phi." Teetee's voice was smooth, pleased. "But you wouldn't ignore a little kid, right?"

Por clenched his jaw. He wanted to strangle Patji. Badly.

Patji grinned, pulling out a chair. "Alright, everyone sit down and eat. And, Por? Behave."

Por gritted his teeth but sat down, hands curled into fists.

He refused to look at Teetee.

But Teetee? Teetee wouldn't stop looking at him.

Watching. Studying. Waiting.

And it was driving Por insane.

>>>>>>

Dinner was over. Pie had fallen asleep on Patji's shoulder.

"Take Pie home first," Por muttered, eager to get the hell out of here.

Patji raised an eyebrow. "You sure?"

"Yes."

Patji shrugged. "Fine. You two take the elevator. I'll meet you at the car."

Por didn't think much of it.

Until the elevator doors slid closed.

And he realized—

It was just him and Teetee.

Alone.

Por immediately turned to the buttons, pressing for the ground floor.

Teetee leaned against the wall, arms crossed, head tilted.

"Running away again, P'Por?"

Por stiffened.

"I'm not running."

Teetee hummed. "That's funny. Because you won't even look at me."

Por clenched his fists. "Shut up."

Ding.

The elevator lurched—then stopped.

Por blinked. "What—"

And then—the lights flickered.

Then—nothing.

Dark.

Silent.

They were stuck.

Por's stomach dropped.

"No," he whispered. No. No. No.

He jabbed the emergency button. Nothing.

Teetee? Teetee was laughing.

"Oh my god," he grinned. "This is the best day of my life."

Por exhaled sharply, stepping back. Far away from Teetee.

His heartbeat was too fast. His skin was too hot.

This was hell.

And then—Teetee moved.

Not much. Just closer.

A step.

A shift.

Enough that Por could feel the warmth of his presence in the too-small space.

Por pressed himself into the corner.

"Don't," he warned.

Teetee smirked. "Don't what?"

Por swallowed. "Stay on your side."

Teetee chuckled, tilting his head. "But why? You weren't like this before."

Por gritted his teeth.

Before.

Before he had said something stupid.

Before he had missed Teetee.

Before everything had started to feel too real.

"Just stop," Por muttered. "I don't want to talk."

Teetee watched him.

Por felt it.

Felt the way Teetee's gaze traced over him.

Slow. Careful. Too knowing.

And then—Teetee moved again.

Not closer this time.

Just... watching.

Waiting.

Letting the silence sink in.

And Por hated it.

Because the silence was dangerous.

The silence was when Por's own thoughts got too loud.

The silence was when he realized—

He wanted to look at Teetee.

He wanted to stop fighting it.

And that terrified him.

The silence stretched.

Teetee didn't push—not yet.

He just watched.

Por refused to meet his eyes.

His jaw was tight. His arms were crossed. He looked like he was forcing himself to stay still, to pretend this wasn't happening.

Teetee tilted his head.

Then—he smiled.

Because this? This was too easy.

"So," Teetee started, voice light, teasing. "How long were you planning to avoid me?"

Por exhaled slowly. "I wasn't—"

"Lie."

Por's fingers twitched. "I wasn't—"

"Lie."

Por's patience snapped.

"Oh my god, can you shut up for five seconds?"

Teetee laughed. "Nope."

Por ground his teeth.

Teetee took a step closer. Not too close. But closer than before.

"You missed me."

Por's entire body tensed.

Teetee smiled. "Didn't you?"

Por's fists clenched. "No."

Teetee sighed dramatically. "Lying again."

Por's jaw locked. "I—"

"Come on, P'Por," Teetee crooned. "You already said it once. Just say it again."

Por stared at the ceiling.

"Just admit it."

Por exhaled sharply. "Teetee—"

"I mean," Teetee continued, tilting his head, too amused, too pleased, too much. "If you didn't miss me, then why did you keep our picture crop into a smaller size so it fit in your wallet?"

Por's throat closed up.

Why did he keep it?

Why was it still there?

Why did he always find himself looking at it?

Teetee took another step forward.

Slow. Deliberate.

Por could feel the warmth radiating from him.

And then—Teetee's voice softened. Just a little.

"You don't have to fight it, Phi."

Por stopped breathing.

"Why do you keep acting like this is a bad thing?"

Por's nails dug into his palms.

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are."

Por snapped.

"Because you're annoying!"

Teetee blinked.

Por's voice rose.

"You're loud, you're reckless, you never stop talking, you get in my face all the damn time—"

Teetee grinned. "Go on."

Por glared. "And you—"

He stopped.

Because suddenly, all the things he wanted to list—the things that made Teetee annoying—were the same things that made him stay.

Teetee waited.

Por bit his lip.

And Teetee knew.

"See?" Teetee murmured. "You're fighting yourself, Phi."

Por's breath hitched.

Then—Teetee moved in.

This time, no space left.

Por's back hit the wall.

Teetee leaned in—one hand pressing against the elevator beside Por's head.

Not touching.

But so damn close.

Por swallowed. "Teetee—"

Teetee smiled.

Not his usual smirk.

Something softer.

Something dangerous.

"I won't stop, you know." His voice was low. Certain.

Por's throat went dry. "What?"

Teetee exhaled softly.

"I won't stop," he repeated. "Not until you stop lying to yourself."

Por's pulse pounded.

His hands twitched at his sides.

Because he knew.

Teetee was right.

And that scared him more than anything else.

The elevator went back to live

The lights turn on again.

Cool air rushed in.

But Por still felt too warm.

Too trapped.

And Teetee?

Teetee just stepped back, smiling.

Por fucked up.

Again.

Because he looked.

Looked at Teetee—really looked at him.

And now, he couldn't look away.

Teetee, standing there, smiling. Not teasing, not smirking—just smiling.

Warm. Real. Dangerous.

Por's chest felt tight.

He should say something. Anything. Tell him to stop. Tell him to move away. Tell him to stop looking at him like that.

But he didn't.

Because his body had other plans.

His hand twitched.

His pulse pounded.

And then—he was moving.

Just a step.

Then another.

Until he was standing so close that he could see everything. The way Teetee's lips parted slightly in surprise. The way his breath hitched. The way his fingers curled against his sides like he was waiting, like he was holding back.

For once.

For the first time—Teetee wasn't pushing.

He was letting Por choose.

And that—that ruined him.

Because Por did choose.

His hand lifted.

Fingers brushing against Teetee's wrist, sliding up, tracing over his arm—slow, hesitant, unsure.

Teetee didn't move. Didn't speak. Didn't laugh.

He just watched.

Like he was waiting for Por to make the next move.

Por exhaled. His fingers trembled. His stomach twisted. His heart slammed so hard he thought Teetee could probably hear it.

And then—he kissed him.

Soft. Unsure. Just a press of lips.

But it hit like a car crash.

Teetee's breath shuddered.

Por was ready to pull away. To run. To act like this was a mistake—but then Teetee moved.

Not away.

Closer.

His fingers curled around Por's shoulder, gripping, pulling him back in.

And then—he kissed back.

Not soft. Not hesitant. Not unsure at all.

Deep. Warm. Starving.

Por's head spun.

His fingers dug into Teetee's arms, holding on. His body burned. His knees almost gave out.

Because holy shit.

This was—this was different.

This wasn't teasing. This wasn't a joke.

This was real.

This was them.

The elevator dinged.

Por jerked back so fast he almost tripped.

Teetee?

Grinning.

Like he just won everything.

Por wanted to kill him.

But more than that—

He wanted to do it again.

>>>>>>

Por's pulse was still racing—still reeling from the fact that he had just kissed Teetee. Or—had Teetee kissed him? Had it even mattered?

Because either way, it happened.

And now Teetee was just standing there, watching him, a little too close, a little too smug.

"You're thinking too hard, Phi," Teetee hummed, tilting his head. "Regretting it already?"

Por clenched his jaw. "Shut up."

Teetee grinned. "Oho, so serious." His fingers brushed against Por's wrist, light, fleeting. "Well, if you do regret it, you can always make it up to me."

Por shot him a glare. "Make what up to you?"

Teetee swayed closer, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "Promise me something."

Por narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"My next race." Teetee's voice dipped—softer, real. "You'll be there."

Por stiffened.

Of course he'd be there. He always was. But this time, Teetee wasn't asking for his presence as a rival.

"You'll be there," Teetee continued, "but not as the guy trying to beat me." He leaned in again, teasing, but something about his voice held weight. "You'll be there for me, Phi."

Por swallowed.

The elevator felt smaller.

"You always show up to win," Teetee said, tilting his head, watching him. "This time, show up for me instead."

Por's fingers twitched at his side.

He wanted to argue. To push back. To not give Teetee what he wanted so easily. But something about the way Teetee looked at him—something about the way he asked—made it impossible.

He sighed, glancing away. "...Fine."

Teetee blinked. "Wait, what?"

Por exhaled, then met his gaze head-on. "I'll be there." He frowned. "But if you do anything stupid—"

"I always do something stupid," Teetee cut in, beaming.

Por groaned, already regretting his life choices.

But Teetee was still smiling, something warm in his eyes.

Not teasing.

Not smug.

Just... happy.

And for once, Por let himself have this.

Even if it was a mistake.

Even if he knew Teetee would never let him live it down.

"Don't be late," Teetee murmured.

Por scoffed, shaking his head. "You're the one who always makes me wait."

Teetee's grin widened.

"Guess we're even now, huh?"

>>>>>>

Teetee sighed, tapping his foot against the pavement, eyes darting to the crowd. Two hours until the race. And he still wasn't here.

His fingers drummed against his thigh, irritation creeping up his spine. He wasn't even sure why he was waiting. Por never said he had to come. He never promised.

But Teetee still—

Before he could finish the thought, a familiar figure emerged from the crowd.

Por.

Teetee's breath hitched, his body betraying him as his annoyance melted into something stupidly soft.

Por, dressed in his usual crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up, hands stuffed into his pockets, walked toward him with that same unreadable expression.

"You're late," Teetee said, though the words lacked their usual bite.

Por stopped just a foot away. He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know I was on a schedule."

Teetee clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes, but the relief in his chest was undeniable. He looked at Por—really looked at him.

Something about him seemed different tonight. Maybe it was the way his shoulders were tense, the way his gaze lingered a little too long.

Por wasn't just here to watch.

"You were actually coming, huh?" Teetee asked, tilting his head.

Por looked away, lips pressing into a thin line.

Teetee smirked. "You were worried about me."

Por exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Don't be stupid."

But Teetee didn't miss the way Por's fingers twitched at his side, as if resisting the urge to reach for something.

It was silent between them for a beat.

Then, Por sighed, finally meeting Teetee's gaze. "Be careful."

Two words. Soft, almost quiet.

Teetee blinked.

Por never said things like that. Never admitted when he cared.

His heartbeat stuttered. He could tease, he could push—but for once, Teetee didn't want to ruin this moment.

So instead, he smiled.

Not his usual cocky grin. Something smaller. Something real.

"I will."

And Por—he just stared at him for a second longer.

Before Teetee turned, walking toward the starting line.

But he felt it. The weight of Por's gaze on his back.

And somehow, it made him feel invincible 

The whispers had started before the race even began.

People stole glances, exchanged hushed words, casting quick looks at Teetee and Por standing too close—too familiar. It wasn't like before, when they were just rivals. No, this was different.

And everyone could see it.

But Teetee? He didn't care.

The moment the race ended, the moment his tires screeched against the pavement, solidifying yet another win—he wasn't thinking about the prize money, or the crowd that cheered his name.

He was already looking for him.

Por.

He spotted him immediately—standing at the edge of the crowd, arms crossed, lips pressed together, watching.

And for the first time, winning didn't feel real until Por acknowledged it.

Teetee didn't bother with the fans, didn't even glance at the stack of cash waiting for him. Instead, he strode past everyone, eyes locked onto the only person that mattered.

Por barely had a second to react before Teetee was right in front of him, chest rising and falling, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

"Well?" Teetee asked, breathless.

Por raised an eyebrow. "Well, what?"

Teetee scoffed, tilting his head, annoyed at having to spell it out. "Say something."

Por blinked. "You won."

Teetee rolled his eyes. "Obviously." He took a step closer, crowd forgotten. "That's not what I mean."

Por stared at him, unreadable. The noise of the street race continued behind them—cheering, engines revving, people celebrating.

But between them, it was quiet.

Teetee waited.

Por sighed, rubbing his temple like Teetee was exhausting him, but then—his lips curled, just slightly.

"You did good."

It was short. Simple. But for some reason, it made something tight in Teetee's chest snap.

He grinned—big, blinding, genuine.

And for the first time, winning felt complete.

>>>>>>

At first, Teetee didn't even realize it.

It started with the small things—things that could've been dismissed if he weren't paying attention.

Por didn't shove him off when Teetee threw an arm around his shoulders. He didn't push his hand away when Teetee laced their fingers together.

He still sighed, still rolled his eyes, still acted like Teetee was the biggest headache of his life. But it was different now.

Softer.

The first time it really hit Teetee was when he was talking to Patji at the garage. He had been animated, laughing at something dumb, gesturing wildly with his hands. And Por—Por had been leaning against his car, looking at him.

Not glaring. Not smirking.

Just looking.

Serious. Focused.

Like he was memorizing every part of Teetee in real-time.

Teetee had caught him, of course. Smirked, raised an eyebrow, and drawled, "What? Miss me already, Phi?"

And instead of snapping back—Por just looked away.

Didn't say anything. Didn't deny it. Just turned back to his car and pretended to inspect the wheel, ears a little red.

That was when Teetee knew something was up.

Then, it started happening more.

Teetee would turn his head, and Por was already watching.

Por would come stand closer—close enough that their arms brushed, close enough that if Teetee reached out, he wouldn't have to move much at all.

Por never asked for affection, but Teetee started to notice that he didn't stop it anymore.

If Teetee hugged him from behind, Por didn't squirm.
If Teetee rested his head on his shoulder, Por didn't complain.
If Teetee got distracted by his phone, Por would suddenly get grumpy for no reason.

And then the real kicker—

Por started complimenting him.

Not teasing. Not sarcasm. Not insults disguised as something else.

Real, genuine praise.

"You look good today."

"That was a clean drift."

"You're actually good at this."

Teetee had almost choked the first time it happened. He had turned so fast his neck nearly snapped, staring at Por like he had grown another head.

And Por—fucking Por—had just shrugged. Like it was no big deal. Like he didn't just ruin Teetee's entire ability to function.

But the moment that really broke Teetee?

They were sitting together—nothing special, just the two of them, hanging out at Teetee's place. It was quiet. Por was scrolling through his phone, and Teetee was mindlessly flipping through a car magazine.

And then—out of nowhere—Por reached over and took his hand.

Just like that. No teasing. No reason. No hesitation.

Just casually intertwining their fingers, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

And Teetee—big, composed, always-in-control Teetee—completely short-circuited.

Because Por never did that.

Por never initiated.

Por never grabbed his hand first.

And yet—here he was.

Holding on. Just because.

Teetee swallowed. "You okay, Phi?"

Por hummed, barely looking up from his phone. "Mhm."

"...You're holding my hand."

Por blinked, then glanced down, as if he hadn't even realized. And then—his ears tinged pink. But instead of pulling away—

He squeezed.

And just said, "So?"

Like it wasn't a big deal.

Like Teetee wasn't currently dying inside.

And that was it. That was the moment Teetee knew—Por was absolutely, completely, helplessly in love with him. 

Chapter Text

A week later

It's late. The race is over. The world feels quieter now, the chaos from earlier fading into the background.

Por and Teetee are sitting on the hood of Por's car, parked on a quiet street overlooking the city. The sky is dark, the city lights stretching far below them.

Teetee is talking—something about the race, about how amazing he was (as always), about how Por looked so cute watching him from the sidelines.

Por is barely listening. He's just watching.

And that's when it hits him.

That he's done for. That he has no way out of this.

So he exhales slowly, eyes still locked on Teetee, and says—like it's the most obvious thing in the world:

"I'm in love with you."

Teetee stops.

Like—completely stops.

His mouth is still open from whatever dumb thing he was about to say, but no words come out.

Por tilts his head, annoyed at the silence. "What?"

Teetee stares. "What do you mean, 'what'?" His voice is dangerously close to cracking. "Did you—did you just—"

"You heard me." Por shrugs, looking back out at the skyline like he didn't just ruin Teetee's entire existence. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

"A big— Phi Por, you—" Teetee drags both hands through his hair, looking like he's about to combust. "You just said you're in love with me!"

"Yeah?" Por side-eyes him. "And?"

Teetee gapes. Then he laughs—loud, incredulous, breathless. "You—Phi, oh my god, you—"

Por groans, rubbing his temples. "I swear, if you don't shut up—"

"You're helpless." Teetee smirks, beaming. "Absolutely, completely, helplessly in love with me."

Por clenches his jaw, resisting the urge to strangle him. "You make it sound embarrassing."

"It is." Teetee pokes his arm, grinning now. "My cold, grumpy Phi Por is actually, hopelessly, down bad for me. Wow. Wow."

Por exhales sharply. "I should've kept my mouth shut."

"But you didn't." Teetee leans in, eyes dangerous. "Because you love me."

Por glares at him. "Say it one more time and I'm pushing you off this car."

"You love me."

Por shoves him. Hard.

Teetee laughs, catching himself easily. "Deny it all you want, Phi. You admitted it. And now? You're never living this down."

Por glares at him. "I hate you."

Teetee grins. "No you don't."

And Por—Por doesn't even argue.

The moment the words I'm in love with you left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake. Not because it wasn't true—but because now, Teetee won't shut up about it.

They're still sitting on the hood of Por's car, the city stretching out below them, the night air cool against their skin. And for the past ten minutes, Teetee has done nothing but gloat.

"You're really in love with me, huh?"

"I should've known. No one would come to my race just to stand around looking pretty unless they were down bad for me."

"I can't believe I made you fall for me. Me. The guy you used to glare at like I personally ruined your life."

Por has had enough.

"If you don't shut up—"

"What, Phi?" Teetee leans in, smirking. "Gonna kiss me again to shut me up?"

Por clenches his jaw. God, why did he kiss him? That was another mistake. The moment their lips had touched, Teetee had gasped, then melted, then smirked—and Por knew he was doomed.

"I should've never said anything," Por mutters, rubbing his temples.

"But you did." Teetee grins, bumping their shoulders together. "And now I can finally say—"

He stops.

Por furrows his brows, turning to look at him. "Say what?"

Teetee exhales, smile softening. For the first time tonight, he actually looks nervous. His fingers tap against his knee.

Then, quieter this time—less teasing, less dramatic—he says:

"I love you too, Phi Por."

Por blinks.

Teetee looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I mean, obviously," he huffs, "I wouldn't be following you around all the time if I didn't. But, y'know. Now that you said it first, I figured I should—"

Por grabs the collar of Teetee's jacket and pulls him in.

This time, their kiss isn't rushed, isn't a surprise attack. It's slower. Warmer. And Teetee—Teetee melts into it, fingers gripping the fabric of Por's shirt like he never wants to let go.

When they finally part, Teetee is breathless. His usual smirk is gone, replaced by something softer.

"Took you long enough," Por mutters, resting his forehead against Teetee's.

Teetee chuckles, eyes half-lidded. "To confess or to kiss me again?"

Por smacks his arm. "Shut up."

Teetee just grins. "Nope. Never again. You're stuck with me now, Phi."

Por rolls his eyes. But he doesn't argue.

Because, yeah.

He's stuck with Teetee.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Then, Teetee suddenly let out a deep sigh and bumped his forehead against Por's, closing his eyes for a second. "Hey, about the hospital bill..."

Por tensed slightly, thinking they were going to fall back into another argument, but Teetee's voice was soft.

"I was really mad before," Teetee admitted, pulling back just enough to meet Por's gaze again. "But... I just wanna say thank you. The same day you paid for it, Grandma went into surgery. The doctor said if it had been delayed, she wouldn't have recovered this fast." His voice wavered slightly at the end, his grip on Por's hand tightening.

Por's chest ached. He knew Teetee well enough to recognize how hard it was for him to say these things, to let his walls down completely.

"You don't have to thank me," Por said, shaking his head. "I just... I didn't want you to go through it alone."

Teetee inhaled deeply, exhaling in a soft laugh. "Well, I'm still thanking you whether you like it or not." He squeezed Por's fingers one last time before pulling back slightly, grinning. "And I'm bringing you to see Grandma again."

Por raised a brow. "I already visited before."

"Yeah, but this time, I'm gonna introduce you properly," Teetee said, his grin turning just a little teasing.

Por narrowed his eyes slightly. "...Properly?"

Teetee tilted his head, beaming at him. "As my boyfriend."

Por felt the heat rush to his face instantly, and Teetee laughed, bright and happy, squeezing his hands before letting go. "Better prepare yourself, Phi Por. She's gonna love you even more than I do."

Por groaned, covering his face with his palm. "Shut up."

Teetee just laughed harder, and this time, it was real. No pretending. No walls. Just him, happy and completely in love.

>>>>>>>>>>>

Por found himself standing awkwardly in the hospital room again, hands stuffed in his pockets as Teetee grinned beside him.

"Grandma!" Teetee called out, beaming as he stepped closer to the old woman in bed.

Grandma's eyes twinkled when she saw him. "Tee, my boy," she greeted warmly, reaching out for his hand.

Teetee took it and squeezed gently, before turning to Por with that same playful grin. "Guess what, Grandma?"

Grandma raised an amused brow. "Hmm? What is it?"

Teetee puffed his chest a little, then dramatically pulled Por forward by the wrist. "I brought my boyfriend to meet you!" he announced, practically glowing with excitement.

Por choked on air. "Tee—"

Grandma blinked, then turned to Por with a knowing smile. "Oh? So it's official now?"

Teetee nodded rapidly. "Yup! We're dating now. Isn't he handsome?"

Por groaned, covering his face with one hand. "Tee—"

But Grandma simply chuckled. "He is. And patient too, to be dealing with you all the time."

"Hey!" Teetee pouted.

Por, still flustered, only sighed and gave Grandma a polite bow. "It's good to see you again, Grandma."

Grandma smiled warmly. "And it's good to see you too, Por." She turned to Teetee, patting his hand. "Tee, dear, didn't you say you were going to buy ice cream for me?"

"Oh! Right! I almost forgot," Teetee gasped before letting go of Por's wrist. "Okay, Phi Por, stay here and don't let Grandma bully you while I'm gone!"

"I don't think she's the one I should be worried about," Por muttered, but Teetee was already dashing out of the room, leaving just him and Grandma.

For a moment, it was silent. Por stood stiffly, not sure what to say now that Teetee wasn't around to fill the air.

Then, Grandma broke the silence.

"Thank you, Por."

Por blinked and turned to her. "...For what?"

Grandma gave him a soft, grateful smile. "For making my grandson happy."

Por's chest tightened at that.

Grandma sighed, looking down at her hands. "I hear him cry sometimes, you know. When he thinks I'm asleep."

Por's breath hitched.

"He never talks about it," Grandma continued, her voice gentle yet heavy. "He tries so hard to be loud, to keep himself busy, to drown out his thoughts... but at night, when everything is quiet, I can hear him in the corner of the room, trying to muffle his sobs."

Por swallowed hard, his hands curling into fists. He could picture it too easily—Teetee, always smiling, always playing around, but breaking apart in the dark where no one could see. It hurt.

Grandma sighed again, but this time, a smile crept onto her lips. "But lately... I haven't heard him cry." She looked up at Por, eyes twinkling. "He's been so genuinely happy these days. And I know a big part of that is because of you."

Por felt something warm bloom in his chest. He looked down, rubbing the back of his neck, unsure how to respond. "...I didn't really do anything."

Grandma chuckled. "Oh, you did plenty, dear." She patted his hand, her grip gentle but firm. "Keep making him happy, will you?"

Por swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. "...I will."

Grandma gave his hand a squeeze, satisfied.

Just then, Teetee burst back in, holding up a cup of ice cream with a victorious grin. "I got it! And I even made the nurse give me extra toppings!"

Por huffed a small laugh, and as he watched Teetee excitedly sit by his grandmother's side, feeding her a spoonful of ice cream, something inside him settled.

Yeah.

He was going to make sure Teetee stayed happy.

>>>>>>>>>

Teetee knew it was going to be a long night the moment Por's head landed on his shoulder with a soft thud.

They were at Patji's housewarming party, and someone—someone—had let Por get drunk again.

And not just drunk.

Drunk-drunk.

The kind of drunk where Por became an oversized, clingy, whiny kitten who refused to let Teetee go.

"Phi Porrrr," Teetee cooed, already grinning as Por let out a sleepy, tipsy grumble against his shoulder. "Did you miss me or something?"

"M'not clingy," Por mumbled, words slightly slurred as he tried to lift his head—only to immediately nuzzle back into Teetee's neck instead. "You're just warm."

Teetee laughed, delighted. "Oh? So now I'm your personal heater?"

Por hummed, eyes half-lidded, arms lazily draping around Teetee's waist. His grip was loose but there, holding on like Teetee might disappear if he let go.

It was adorable.

Teetee lived for this.

"You're so soft when you're drunk," Teetee teased, running his fingers through Por's hair, ruffling it on purpose.

Por let out a small, breathy whine.

A whine.

Teetee swore his heart melted.

"Stop that," Por grumbled, pressing his forehead against Teetee's collarbone. "'S embarrassing."

"But you're so cute." Teetee smirked. "I should get you drunk more often."

Por groaned, tightening his arms around Teetee like a koala. "Shut up."

Teetee beamed. "Awww, my boyfriend is so soft when he's tipsy."

Por tensed. "...Don't call me that."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it makes me feel weird."

Teetee grinned. "Weird how?"

Por didn't answer.

Instead, he only buried his face deeper into Teetee's neck, huffing, clinging, warm breath tickling Teetee's skin.

Oh, he was so going to regret this in the morning.

But Teetee was loving every second of it.

"Want me to stop?" Teetee asked, pretending to be considerate.

Por hesitated.

Then—very softly—shook his head.

Teetee froze.

Oh.

Ohhh.

Now that was new.

Por, sober, would've shoved him away by now. But drunk Por? Drunk Por actually wanted to be babied.

Teetee tried to hold back his massive grin, but he couldn't.

"Come here, Phi Por," he murmured, voice softer now, arms circling Por's waist, tugging him even closer.

Por melted into him.

A full-body collapse.

Teetee had to bite his lip to stop himself from squealing.

"Spoiled brat," Teetee muttered fondly, stroking Por's hair.

"M'your spoiled brat," Por mumbled back.

And Teetee—Teetee died.

Absolutely, completely died.

He was never letting Por live this down. Ever.

Getting Por home was a mission.

Getting Por inside was a struggle.

But getting Por to let go?

Impossible.

Teetee barely managed to kick the door shut before Por wrapped himself around him like an oversized boa constrictor, arms tight around his waist, face buried in Teetee's neck again.

"Phi Porrr," Teetee drawled, stumbling towards the couch with way more boyfriend in his arms than he could handle. "I thought you said you weren't clingy?"

Por grumbled something incoherent, tightening his hold.

Teetee huffed out a laugh, dragging both of them onto the couch. Por immediately shifted, pressing as close as humanly possible, practically curling into his lap like a needy housecat.

This was so much worse than last time.

And Teetee loved it.

"Alright, alright," Teetee said, adjusting his position so Por could get comfortable. "You win, I'll stay here. But first—" He reached down, attempting to pull Por's arms off him. "Let me go for a second so I can get you some water—"

"No."

Teetee blinked. "What?"

Por clung harder. "No."

Teetee grinned. "Oh, so now you want me to baby you?"

Por groaned against his shoulder, voice muffled. "I never said that."

"You didn't have to," Teetee teased, fingers threading through Por's hair again, gently scratching at his scalp. "You're literally wrapped around me like a koala."

Por let out the softest, most defeated sigh. 

And then—he nuzzled into Teetee's collarbone. 

Teetee choked.

Oh, this was dangerous.

"You're warm," Por murmured, voice thick with sleep and alcohol, hands fisting Teetee's hoodie like he never wanted to let go.

Teetee swallowed, heart stuttering. "Yeah?"

"Mhm," Por hummed, shifting even closer, practically molding himself against Teetee's chest. "Don't go."

Teetee froze.

Something in his chest ached.

And suddenly, teasing didn't feel so fun anymore.

"I'm not going anywhere," Teetee murmured, softer this time, arms instinctively curling around Por's back, pulling him in. "Promise."

Por made a content noise, like that was all he needed to hear.

And Teetee—

Teetee was done for.

Because now he wasn't sure if he could ever let go.

Teetee had dealt with many things in his life.

He had dealt with racing punks trying to fight him after losing.

He had dealt with Por's rich-kid attitude, his cold glares, his snide remarks.

But nothing—nothing—had prepared him for a drunk, whiny, meowing P'Por.

"P'Por," Teetee said, staring in absolute horror. "What the hell was that?"

Por blinked up at him from where he sat on the edge of Teetee's bed, eyes dazed, lips pursed—and then.

He did it again.

A soft, high-pitched—

"Meow."

Teetee died inside.

"No," he said immediately, pointing a warning finger. "No. Absolutely not. You are not—"

"Meow."

Teetee staggered back.

"Oh my god," he whispered, gripping his own head. "I knew you were secretly a cat, but this—this is too much."

Por, still hazy and completely unaware of the emotional damage he was inflicting, pouted. "You said I was a kitten..."

Teetee gaped.

He did say that.

A while ago. As a joke.

And now—

Now his boyfriend was drunk and taking it seriously.

"P'Por," Teetee said, nearly pleading. "Stop meowing, please."

Por swayed in place, blinking slowly. Then, in a tiny, sleepy voice—

"But I'm your kitten..."

Teetee's soul left his body.

"Nope." He threw a blanket over Por's head and turned away, slapping a hand over his mouth. "Nope. I can't do this. I refuse."

Por, completely unbothered, tugged the blanket down just enough to peek at him. "Tee..."

"No."

"...Hug me."

Teetee groaned in agony, because of course he was going to hug him.

He had to.

It was his clingy kitten boyfriend, after all.

Por, still curled up against him, tilted his head up, eyes heavy-lidded, lips slightly parted.

"Can this kitten get a kiss?" he murmured, voice slow and dangerously soft.

Teetee froze.

He looked down at his boyfriend—the same P'Por who spent months pretending he didn't like him, who used to glare at him like he was an annoying bug—now nuzzling into his chest, purring, and asking for a kiss.

Teetee had won. Completely.

But at what cost?

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady. "P'Por—"

Por let out another tiny purr, his lips brushing against Teetee's collarbone.

Teetee whimpered.

"P'Por, I swear to—"

Por shifted again, arms tightening around his waist, pulling him even closer.

"Tee..." Por whined, voice going all soft and pleading. "Just one kiss?"

And—god help him—Teetee actually caved.

With a shaky sigh, he cupped Por's face, tilting it up.

"Fine," he whispered, lips hovering over Por's, teasing just barely. "But if you purr while I kiss you, I'm throwing you out."

Por grinned.

And before Teetee could say anything else—

Por kissed him first.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

Por was unraveling—completely and utterly falling apart—right in Teetee's hands.

And Teetee was loving every second of it.

"T-Tee..." Por's voice was barely a whisper, needy, breathless, as he tugged at Teetee's sleeve. "Please—"

He had been grinding his clothed hard on against teetee's thigh over and over again for more than half an hour now.

Teetee chuckled, tilting his head. "Please what, Phi?"

Por whined, squirming under him, eyes fluttering shut before snapping back open. "Please—just—please—"

"Tsk." Teetee clicked his tongue, his fingers skimming down Por's jaw, tracing slow, lazy patterns. "You gotta be more specific than that, Phi. What are you asking for? Hmm?"

Por groaned, dropping his head back onto the shoulder, his hands fisting Teetee's shirt. "Tee, stop messing with me—"

"Messing with you?" Teetee repeated, feigning innocence. "I'm just trying to help you get your words out properly. Isn't that what you like? Being bossed around? Being told what to do?"

Por shuddered, gripping him tighter. "Tee—"

"Say it properly, Phi," Teetee cooed, lips ghosting over Por's ear. "Or I might not listen."*

Por let out a shaky breath. "Please..."

Teetee grinned. "That's one."

"T-Tee—please—"

"That's two."

Por was trembling, his grip tightening, his breaths growing more uneven. "Tee, please, please, please, please—"Teetee laughed softly, dragging his fingers down Por's arm. "Oh, Phi," he teased, "you're starting to sound desperate."

"I am—" Por whined, his face burning. "Please, Tee—please—"

Teetee felt a spark of triumph flare in his chest. "Hmm..." He pretended to think, tapping a finger against his chin. "I dunno, Phi. Maybe I like seeing you beg a little more."

"Tee—please, please, please, please, please—" Por gasped, his voice high and helpless, his fingers curling against Teetee's chest. 

Teetee smirked. "There you go." He reached down, stroking Por's hair, whispering against his skin, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Por barely managed a nod, his breath catching as Teetee leaned in, lips brushing against his ear.

"Such a good boy for me, Phi," Teetee praised, voice smooth, slow, deliberate. "So obedient. So pretty when you beg."

Por whimpered, his entire body arching toward Teetee, as if the words themselves were pulling him closer. "T-Tee—please—"

Teetee chuckled. "That's a record. I think you've said 'please' more times in the last five minutes than you have in your entire life."

"Tee—"

"Alright, alright," Teetee murmured, finally—finally—giving in, his lips hovering just inches from Por's. "Since you asked so nicely—"

And then, without another word—Teetee kissed him.

Por melted.

Teetee wasn't going to rush this.

No.

Not when he finally had Por exactly where he wanted him.

A flushed, trembling, mess above him.

"P'Por..." Teetee hums, dragging a slow, teasing hand down Por's chest. "Look at you." 

His fingers circle around Por nipple before he scratches it slowly, pinching and rolling it between his fingers.

Por gasped, his back arching just slightly, his fingers desperately clutching Teetee's shirt like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

He rolls his hips faster, tongue lolling out as he pants, moans, and gasps. Teetee just watches, savoring this very moment and making sure this is etched to his brain. soon, Por 's moans got quicker, whinier, and the grip on his shirt got tighter. He's approaching his finish line, but of course, Tee is a cruel coach. He held Por's Hips in place just as he was about to reach it, causing him to whine while a tear slipped down Por's cheeks as he stutter.

"T-Tee..."

Teetee smirked. "What's wrong, Phi? You look like you're about to break." 

Por's lips parted, a breathless sound escaping before he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head.

Teetee tutted, tilting his head. "No, no, don't hide from me now. You were doing so good before."

Por whimpered. "T-Tee—" He tried to roll his hips again, failed, miserably. Teetee's strong grip managed to keep him in place. 

"Say it," Teetee ordered, his tone dipping just enough to make Por's breath hitch.

Por shivered, his hands gripping harder. "P-please— I want to cum"

Teetee hummed, his fingers ghosting over Por's jaw. "Mmm. Not quite enough, Phi. I think you can do better."

Por whined, his face burning hotter, his body trembling under Teetee's touch. "Please—please, Tee—please—"

Teetee laughed softly. "That's it. Keep going, Phi. Beg a little more for me."

Teetee finally let Por move his hips again, he even gripped Por's waist and helped him move back and forth, his sensitive part twitching in the pajama at the clothed friction. 

"Tee—please, please, please—" Por's voice broke, raw and helpless, his nails digging into Teetee's back.

Teetee smirked. "God, you sound so good when you beg."

"T-Tee—" Por's movement became even faster, breath hitching higher. Teetee felt the way his P'Por abdoment tightened and again, he slowed down Por's movement. which made Por became even messier, his heaven being denied 2 times by now.

"You want something, Phi?" Teetee teased, his lips ghosting over Por's ear. "You're shaking so much. Poor thing. So needy."

Por whimpered, turning his face into Teetee's shoulder, absolutely wrecked.

"Ah, ah, don't hide," Teetee cooed, his fingers sliding up into Por's hair, tugging just slightly to make him look up again. "Be good for me, Phi."

Por's breath shuddered out of him, his lips trembling. hips shaking "T-Tee, please—please, please, please, please—"

"Mmm. That's a lot of pleases. You must really want it." Teetee dragged his fingers down Por's cheek, watching in satisfaction as Por leaned into his touch, absolutely gone.

Por nodded frantically, barely able to form words. "Tee—please—"

"Such a good boy for me, Phi," Teetee praised, dragging his thumb over Por's bottom lip. "So obedient. So pretty when you beg. And all mine, aren't you?"

Teetee then starts bouncing his left thigh slowly, And Por? wrecked. He gasped so loud, the drag on his clothed cock feels so good he mewled. he grip Teetee's shoulders tight. Teetee watch as Por's messy hair bounces along, moans rising even higher

"S-so—good. ahh!"

"I asked you a question, kitten" 

Por whimpered, nodding rapidly. "Y-yes—yours—please, Tee—"

Teetee's smirk widened. "Good boy."

Por let out a shuddering breath, his eyes fluttering shut. "Please—"

"Again," Teetee demanded.

"P-please—please, Tee—please Hah ahh—"

"Louder, Phi." 

"Please—please,  Hnnghh please, please!—"

Teetee grinned, running his fingers through Por's hair. "That's my boy."

Por melted at the words, his entire body going limp in Teetee's hands, completely, helplessly wrecked, toes curling as the peak approached him.

Teetee exhaled slowly, drinking in the sight of his ruined, begging, desperate boyfriend beneath him.

And then—finally—he leaned in.

"Alright, Phi."

His lips brushed against Por's ear. red, and hot.

"Since you begged so sweetly—"

And then—he bounces his leg faster and watches as Por lets go, eyes rolling to the back of his head. The wave comes too strong that his abdoment contract as he spills white fluid after white fluid, staining his pajamas and Teetee's Thigh. the grips on Teetee tighten more as he jerks when Teetee didnt stop bouncing him on top of his thigh. 

" Wait—T-tee, e—enough Ahh ! AHH" 

Por completely fell apart. Teetee grinned even wider.

he didnt plan on letting this end too soon.

>>>>>>>

Por woke up feeling wrecked.

The second his eyes fluttered open, he groaned, body aching in places he didn't even know could ache. His limbs felt heavy, and worst of all—his head was pounding like a damn drum.

"Ugh... what the—"

"Oh? Kitten's finally awake?"

Por froze.

That voice.

That smug, too chipper, too pleased voice.

Slowly, painfully, he turned his head—and there was Teetee. Sitting cross-legged on the bed beside him, all fresh, well-rested, and smirking like he had just won the lottery.

Por's stomach dropped.

No.

No, no, no—

"Morning, Phi~" Teetee sing-songed, leaning closer, resting his chin on his palm. "Did you sleep well? Oh, wait—" He grinned, wicked and teasing. "I know you did. You were purring in your sleep."

Por wanted to die. Right then and there.

His entire body locked up, heat creeping up his neck. "Shut up."

Teetee only laughed, clearly thriving off his misery. "Oh? So grumpy first thing in the morning? And here I was, being such a good boyfriend, taking care of you all night."

Por groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. "Fuck off."

"Aww, is my kitten cranky?" Teetee cooed, reaching out to stroke his hair. "You were so much sweeter last night. So soft, so obedient, so—"

Por swatted his hand away with a death glare. "Don't. Say. A word."

Teetee just beamed, enjoying this way too much. "You know, I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed, maybe even massage your sore muscles—"

Por perked up slightly. "Massage?"

"—but now, I don't think you deserve it."

Por scowled. "You are the fucking worst."

Teetee hummed, completely unfazed. "And yet, here you are. In my bed. Sore. Helpless. At my mercy."

"Shut up."

Teetee chuckled, leaning down until their noses almost touched. "Make me."

Por was this close to strangling him.

But then—Teetee pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

It was gentle, sweet, completely out of place with all his teasing. And somehow, that was worse.

Por huffed, turning his face away. "...I hate you."

Teetee only smiled wider, running a hand through Por's messy hair. "No, you don't."

Por grumbled under his breath. "Bring me breakfast."

"Say the magic word."

"Fuck. You."

Teetee gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Kitten, what a dirty mouth you have."

Por threw a pillow at his face.

"Fine, fine," Teetee snickered, standing up. "Stay here, I'll get you something. And I'll even throw in that massage, since I'm so kind."

Por grumbled, curling deeper into the blankets. "...whatever."

Teetee just shook his head fondly before heading out.

And as soon as he was gone—Por buried his burning face into the pillows.

He was never drinking again.

>>>>>>>

Por had barely stepped into the café when Patji’s eyes zeroed in on him from behind the counter.

“Is that a hickey?” Patji blurted out, eyes shining with amusement.

Por stiffened. “No.”

“Oh, really?” Patji smirked, wiping his hands on a towel as he leaned forward. “Because it sure looks like one.”

Before Por could deny it again, a familiar warmth draped itself over his shoulders.

“It is what you think it is, Patji.” Teetee’s voice was downright smug, his arms wrapping around Por like he belonged there. He tilted his head, pretending to examine the mark on Por’s neck. “The mark’s a little too dark, isn’t it? My bad, P’Por.”

Patji’s jaw dropped.

His cold, tough, impossible to crack best friend—marked up and clung to by Teetee?

Patji burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as he pointed at Por.

“So does that mean you guys—” he cackled, the absolute delight in his voice making it a hundred times worse.

Por choked, his entire face burning as he shoved Teetee off him. “Shut the fuck up.”

But that only made things worse. Teetee, still draped lazily over his shoulders, beamed. “Aww, P’Por, don’t be shy. Patji’s just amazed.” He turned to Patji with an exaggerated sigh.

Patji nearly collapsed behind the counter. “Oh my God.”

Por wanted to die.

"But I gotta admit P'Por was so cute yesterd—"

“Stop talking!” he hissed, but neither of them listened. Patji was wiping fake tears from his eyes, looking like this was the highlight of his entire life, while Teetee just kept grinning like he’d won a trophy.

Por sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I hate both of you.”

Por stormed out.

Teetee and Patji’s laughter echoed behind him.

Patji ignored him, still staring at Teetee like he was seeing a miracle. “You? You did that to him?”

Teetee only grinned, chin resting on his palm and stared at Por who walked out of the cafe. “Cute, right?”

>>>>>>>

It started when they were at some gathering—a party, a meetup, whatever. Teetee, as usual, was being his overly friendly self, chatting with everyone.

Including some guy Por did not like.

Now, was this guy actually flirting with Teetee?

Maybe.

Did Teetee realize it?

Not at all.

But Por?

Por noticed everything.

The way that guy leaned in. The way he touched Teetee's arm. The way he smiled like he had a chance.

And the worst part?

Teetee wasn't pushing him away.

Por's grip on his drink tightened.

His jaw locked.

And when Teetee laughed—a little too brightly, a little too freely—Por had had enough.

He put his drink down. Stalked forward. And without a single word—

He grabbed Teetee's wrist.

Teetee blinked, startled. "Phi—?"

Por didn't stop. Didn't look at the guy. Didn't acknowledge anything.

He just dragged Teetee away.

Straight out of the crowd. Straight into the nearest empty hallway.

Then—he pushed Teetee against the wall.

Not roughly. Not forcefully.

Just enough.

Enough for Teetee to feel it.

Enough for Teetee to shut up.

Por placed his hands on either side of Teetee's head, caging him in.

Teetee stared.

Por stared back.

Silent.

Unmoving.

Unrelenting.

A long pause.

Then—

"...You okay there, Phi?" Teetee finally said, lips twitching.

Por didn't answer.

Didn't react.

Just kept looking at him.

And Teetee—Teetee, for once, had no idea what to do with it.

His usual teasing words died on his tongue.

Because this wasn't playful Por. This wasn't annoyed Por.

This was something else.

Something serious.

Something possessive.

And it sent a thrill down Teetee's spine.

Por inhaled. Slowly.

Then, voice low, quiet, dangerous—

"Are you done playing around?"

Teetee blinked.

"...What?"

Por leaned in. Just a little.

"You think I didn't notice?" His voice was calm. Too calm. "Him?"

Teetee's stomach flipped.

"Wait, are you—"

"Yes." Por's eyes darkened. "I am."

Oh.

Oh, this was fun.

Teetee grinned. "Phi Por, are you jealous?"

Por's expression didn't change.

But his fingers twitched.

And his breath?

A little heavier now.

Teetee tilted his head, pushing.

"I was just talking—"

"He was touching you."

Teetee froze.

Because damn.

The way Por said it. Low. Rough. Sharp.

Like it bothered him.

Like it really, really got under his skin.

Por exhaled. "I don't like it."

Teetee's smirk twitched. "So? What are you gonna do about it?"

Por's hands moved.

From the wall.

To Teetee's waist.

Fingers firm. Gripping. Holding.

And Teetee?

Teetee's breath hitched.

Por leaned in. Closer. So close their noses nearly brushed.

And then—

"I don't need to do anything," Por murmured. "You're already mine."

Teetee swallowed

His usual confidence? Gone.

His usual teasing? Nonexistent.

Por might be a tiny bit shorter, but right now?

Teetee was the one looking up.

But then—Teetee hugged him.

Just like that.

No hesitation, no teasing.

Just warm, steady arms wrapping around him, pulling him in like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And damn it, it worked.

Por stiffened at first, his fingers twitching at his sides, but Teetee just held him tighter, voice low and firm against his ear.

"You're the only one for me, Phi. No one else. Just you."

Por's breath caught in his throat.

The words landed deep, settling in places he didn't even realize were aching.

But Teetee wasn't done.

He tilted his head, lips brushing against Por's temple—soft, fleeting.

Then his cheek.

Then the tip of his nose.

Tiny, unhurried kisses. Each one melting away the tension curling in Por's chest.

Didn't care who was watching. Didn't care who might walk by.

Didn't care about anything—except this.

Except Por.

His Por.

"You hear me?" Teetee whispered, breath warm against Por's skin. "Only you." Another kiss. "Always you." Another. "My one and only."

Por exhaled sharply. His grip loosened, fingers uncurling from where they had been fisting Teetee's shirt.

But Teetee could still feel the tension in him—the way his shoulders remained tight, the way his lips pressed into a thin line like he was trying to keep himself from saying something stupid.

So Teetee kept going.

He trailed his hands up Por's back, stroking gently, grounding him. His lips ghosted over Por's ear, voice softer now.

"I don't need anyone else, Phi. Just you."

Por shuddered.

He would never admit how much he needed to hear that.

Teetee knew.

Knew that Por had finally calmed down. Knew he had broken through the storm raging inside him.

So he smiled.

And pressed one last, lingering kiss against Por's forehead, letting it sit there—long enough for Por to feel it, to believe it.

"That's better." Teetee pulled back slightly, but only just—still close enough that Por could see the warmth in his eyes, the certainty in his expression.

"Now stop pouting, Phi," he teased, voice dripping with fondness. "You're cuter when you smile."

Por groaned, shoving at Teetee's shoulder, but the way his ears burned bright red?

Teetee knew. his heart was full, 

Por loves Teetee just as much as Teetee loves him.

Chapter Text

Teetee had been in plenty of races before. He'd dodged cops, taunted dangerous opponents, and faced down life-threatening situations with nothing but a smirk and a middle finger.

But standing in front of Por's massive family mansion?

Yeah.

This was terrifying.

His palms were sweaty, his heart was racing (and not in the fun way), and for the first time in his life, he actually considered turning back.

Por must have sensed it because he squeezed Teetee's hand, giving him a quick, reassuring glance.

"They're gonna be okay" he muttered under his breath.

Teetee snorted, trying to mask his nerves. "Yeah, sure. Rich people always love annoying street racers."

Por rolled his eyes, dragging him forward. "You're not just a street racer. You're my boyfriend."

Teetee nearly tripped.

Even after all this time, hearing Por say that so casually still did things to him.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, squeezing Por's hand back. "Let's get this over with."

Por's lips twitched—amused. "You sound like you're walking to your execution."

Teetee groaned. "I feel like I am."

But before he could complain any further, the front doors swung open, and suddenly—

They were there.

Por's parents.

Standing in the grand entrance hall like they were straight out of some fancy magazine.

His father—tall, imposing, strict-looking.

His mother—elegant, graceful, and definitely judging him already.

Teetee gulped.

He straightened his back, steeling himself for whatever interrogation was about to come his way.

But then—

"Ah." Por's father blinked, his gaze settling on Teetee. "So you're the one."

Teetee flinched.

...Oh shit.

Here it comes.

The disapproval.

The judgment.

The 'you're not good enough for our son' speech—

But then—

Por's mother gasped, clapping her hands together.

"Oh my god," she breathed, eyes sparkling. "You're adorable."

Teetee froze.

...Wait.

What?

Before he could react, she was already pulling him into a hug.

A hug.

Not the cold, formal handshake he was expecting. Not the suspicious, narrowed stare.

A full-on hug.

Teetee stiffened, his brain short-circuiting.

Por's dad, meanwhile, was just staring at him, his expression unreadable.

And then—he sighed.

"Finally," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "Someone who can actually handle that boy."

Teetee blinked.

Por groaned. "Dad—"

But his mother wasn't done.

She stepped back, gripping Teetee's shoulders, eyes practically gleaming.

"Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea how long we've been waiting for this day," she gushed. "Do you know how impossible our son is?"

Teetee... paused.

Then, slowly—

A grin spread across his face.

"Oh, I know," he said, throwing a glance at Por. "Trust me."

Por glared. "Teetee—"

"Oh, hush, Por," his mother scolded, waving him off before turning back to Teetee. "Come inside, dear. You must be starving."

And just like that, she was dragging him in, completely ignoring Por's attempts to protest.

Teetee, meanwhile, was still trying to process the situation.

This was not at all what he expected.

Por's parents were happy.

They were delighted.

Not because Teetee was rich. Not because he came from some high-status family.

But because—

Because he was him.

Because he was the one who managed to handle Por's impossible ass.

Because he was the one giving Por the love and attention that even they couldn't.

And that realization?

Yeah.

It made his chest feel warm.

For the first time ever, Teetee felt like he belonged in a place like this.

And as he caught Por's eyes from across the table, watching his boyfriend's ears turn red from embarrassment—

Teetee just grinned.

Yeah.

He could get used to this.

>>>>>>

Teetee had barely taken a bite of his food when Por's mother dropped the bomb.

"You should stay the night, Teetee"

Teetee choked.

Por froze.

The dining hall fell into silence.

Then—

"What?" Por sputtered, nearly knocking over his water glass. "Mom—"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Por," his mother scolded, waving him off like he was a child. "Teetee came all the way here, driving you, and it's already late. Why make him drive home when you can just stay?"

Teetee, still recovering from almost dying on his steak, held up a hand.

"Oh, uh, no need—"

"Nonsense." Por's father, who had been mostly quiet until now, finally spoke up. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing Teetee with a critical look before nodding. "You're already part of this family. Might as well get used to staying here."

Teetee paused.

Then squinted.

...Wait a second.

Something about the way he said that sounded—

Oh.

Oh, they knew.

They knew.

These two rich, elegant, sophisticated parents of Por's?

They knew exactly what they were doing.

And judging by the way Por was turning a particularly amusing shade of red, Teetee was pretty sure this was some kind of revenge for their difficult son.

He glanced at Por, who was still gaping at his parents like they'd just committed a federal crime.

A slow, evil grin crept onto Teetee's face.

"...Well, if you insist," he said, voice way too pleased. "I'd hate to be rude."

Por's head snapped toward him. "Tee—"

"Oh, Por," Teetee sighed, dramatically placing a hand on his boyfriend's arm. "You heard your parents. I'm family now."

Por glared.

His parents beamed.

And just like that—

Teetee won.

Por stormed into his old bedroom, Teetee trailing behind him, still looking way too smug.

"I hate you," Por grumbled, aggressively yanking his closet open to grab some spare clothes for Teetee.

Teetee hummed, flopping onto the massive, insanely soft bed. "That's not what you were saying last night when you were—"

Por whipped around, throwing a pillow directly at his face.

"Shut up."

Teetee, laughing, caught the pillow and hugged it to his chest. "Aww, what's wrong, Phi Por? Embarrassed that your parents love me?"

Por groaned, rubbing his face. "I should've let you drive home."

"But then I wouldn't be here, annoying you."

Por threw another pillow.

Teetee dodged it this time, still grinning. "Man, I can't believe they really made me stay."

Por sighed, tossing him some clothes. "Yeah, well. Good luck getting through the night."

Teetee raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Por smirked.

And then—

Knock knock.

"Kids?"

Teetee froze.

Por winced.

His mother's voice drifted through the door, way too cheerful.

"I brought some extra blankets! Oh, and don't worry—I already told the maids not to disturb you two in the morning. You'll need your rest."

Teetee slowly turned to look at Por, eyes wide.

Por looked like he wanted to die.

And then—

His father's voice joined in. "And Teetee, if my son bothers you, just let us know."

Teetee choked down a laugh.

Por, horrified, opened the door just enough to snatch the blankets before slamming it shut again.

Silence.

Then—

Teetee burst out laughing.

Por groaned, collapsing onto the bed next to him.

"I hate them," Por muttered into the mattress.

Teetee, still giggling, leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to Por's cheek.

"Aw, poor kitten," he cooed. "Guess you'll just have to deal with it."

Por grumbled, but the tips of his ears were red.

Teetee just grinned, already feeling right at home.

>>>>>>>

Teetee never thought he'd wake up this early at Por's house. It wasn't like him—he usually loved sleeping in, burying himself under the blankets until someone had to physically drag him out of bed. But something about the peacefulness of the mansion, the quiet hum of the morning, made him stir before the sun had fully risen.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes, before quietly slipping out of bed. Por was still sleeping, his face relaxed in a way Teetee rarely got to see. Usually, Por always had this sharp look—like he was ready to bite someone's head off. But right now? He looked... soft.

Teetee smiled to himself before carefully sneaking out of the room.

As he walked down the grand staircase, he didn't expect to run into anyone. The house was still and quiet, the kind of silence that made even his own breathing sound too loud. But when he stepped into the dining area, he was met with the sight of Por's mother, sitting by the window, a warm cup of tea in her hands.

She looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled. "You're up early, Teetee."

Teetee blinked, then sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... yeah. I guess I am."

She gestured toward the seat across from her. "Would you like some tea?"

Teetee hesitated for a moment before nodding. He sat down, watching as she poured him a cup. There was something different about this moment—it wasn't the usual polite small talk they'd exchanged before. The air felt... heavier, but not in a bad way. More like there was something waiting to be said.

Por's mother took a sip of her tea, her gaze drifting toward the large windows that overlooked the garden. Then, with a gentle voice, she said, "Thank you for staying with Por."

Teetee paused, caught off guard. "Oh. Well... yeah. Of course."

She smiled, but there was something wistful in her expression. "He's always been stubborn, hasn't he? Even as a child, he never wanted to show weakness. Never wanted to admit when he was hurting."

Teetee stayed quiet, listening.

"When he was little," she continued, "he would always wait for us. Every night, he'd sit by the living room window, watching the driveway, hoping we'd come home early. But work always kept us away. By the time we returned, he was already asleep on the couch."

Teetee's heart ached at the image. A younger Por, sitting by the window, waiting for parents who never came home on time.

"He never complained," she said softly. "Not once. But little by little, he started changing. He stopped waiting. Stopped caring. And then, one day, he stopped being home at all."

Teetee swallowed hard, gripping his teacup a little tighter.

Por's mother let out a quiet sigh. "It's not that we didn't care about him. We just... didn't know how to show it the way he needed. And by the time we realized how much it hurt him, he had already built walls so high we couldn't reach him anymore."

Teetee looked down at the tea in his hands, feeling something tighten in his chest.

He knew that loneliness.

He knew what it was like to pretend you were fine. To act like things didn't hurt just because you didn't want to be let down again.

And now, hearing all of this, it made sense. Por's distance. His coldness. The way he never let anyone get too close.

But... Teetee had gotten close, hadn't he?

Teetee had barged into his life, teased him, annoyed him, stuck by him even when Por tried to push him away. And despite all of that, Por never truly told him to leave.

Teetee felt a lump in his throat.

"He's different with you, you know," Por's mother said, looking at him with knowing eyes. "He lets you in. Even if he doesn't say it out loud, I can tell he cares about you."

Teetee let out a small breath, his fingers loosening around the teacup. He didn't know what to say to that. He wasn't even sure how to process the emotions swirling in his chest.

Before he could respond, Aunt Mali entered the room, looking a little flustered.

"Madam, breakfast might be a little late today," she said apologetically. "I overslept."

Teetee immediately stood up. "I can help," he offered without thinking.

Aunt Mali blinked at him, surprised. "Oh, no, you don't have to—"

"It's fine! I can cook," Teetee grinned. "Let me help out, Auntie."

She hesitated, then laughed. "Alright, if you insist."

Por's mother watched the exchange with amusement as Teetee followed Aunt Mali into the kitchen.

>>>>>>>

Por woke up to an empty bed.

At first, he thought maybe Teetee had woken up earlier and was just messing around somewhere in the mansion. Maybe bothering the housekeepers or sneaking into his parents' expensive wine collection just to piss him off.

But then—

Clang!

A loud sound echoed from the kitchen downstairs.

Por frowned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he got up. What the hell—

He made his way down the grand staircase, following the scent of something warm and delicious.

And then he froze.

Right there, standing in the middle of his family's massive kitchen, was Teetee.

Wearing an apron.

A frilly, floral apron that definitely wasn't his.

And he was cooking.

Por stared, completely thrown off by the sight.

Teetee was standing at the stove, talking and laughing with Auntie Mali, the long-time housekeeper who had practically raised Por. The old woman looked absolutely delighted, giving Teetee instructions while he carefully flipped an omelet.

"Not bad, right?" Teetee grinned, looking way too proud of himself.

Auntie Mali chuckled. "Better than Por, at least."

Teetee snorted. "That's not hard to beat."

Por scowled.

"Oh, I can cook just fine—" he started, stepping forward.

And that's when Teetee turned around—

And smiled at him.

Not his usual smirk, not the teasing grin he always used to mess with Por.

No—this was different.

It was soft.

Bright and warm, like the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

Por's breath caught in his throat.

"...Morning, Phi Por," Teetee greeted, his voice light and playful, as if he wasn't completely destroying Por's heart with just one look. "Hungry?"

Por couldn't answer right away.

Because right then—standing there, in his kitchen, wearing his family's apron, making breakfast like he belonged—

Teetee felt like he fit.

Like he was meant to be here.

Por swallowed, trying to fight down the sudden warmth creeping up his neck.

"...Yeah," he muttered, looking away quickly before Teetee could see what he was thinking. "Starving."

Auntie Mali patted Teetee's shoulder. "Good, because Teetee made this one just for you."

Por turned back just in time to see Teetee slide a plate in front of him.

It was an omelet. A little uneven, a little too golden, but still looking damn good.

"Try it," Teetee said, resting his chin on his palm, watching Por expectantly. "Made it with love."

Por rolled his eyes, but his chest felt too full.

He picked up a fork, took a bite—

And immediately, Teetee leaned in, eyes bright.

"Well?"

Por chewed. Swallowed.

And then, in the flattest tone possible—

"...It's okay."

Teetee gasped in offense. "Okay? That's all I get?!"

Por shrugged, stabbing another piece with his fork, hiding his smirk. "I've had better."

Teetee scowled, grabbing a towel and swatting him with it. "Ungrateful brat—"

Por caught Teetee's wrist before he could smack him again.

And in a move that surprised both of them—

He lifted Teetee's hand to his lips.

And kissed it.

A small, soft brush of his lips against Teetee's fingers.

Just enough to make Teetee freeze.

Por smirked.

"...But it's my favorite so far," he murmured.

Teetee blinked.

His ears turned pink. His whole face scrunched up, like he couldn't handle it.

"...You're so annoying," Teetee mumbled, yanking his hand away and turning back to the stove.

Por just chuckled, taking another bite.

Yeah.

This morning was perfect.

Aunt Mali watched everything from the corner of the kitchen.

She had always known Por. Known the way he used to keep his walls up, the way he carried his loneliness like a shield. She had been there when he was just a boy, sitting on the kitchen counter, waiting for parents who came home too late. She had watched him grow into someone distant, someone who barely let anyone into his life.

But today—this morning—Por looked different.

Lighter.

Happier.

And it was all because of the boy in the floral apron, who had barged into his life like a storm and never left.

Aunt Mali felt her heart swell.

And for the first time in a long time—

She almost cried.

>>>>>>>

The evening was quiet and warm, the golden glow of the mansion's chandeliers casting soft shadows against the walls. After dinner, Por and Teetee had retreated to Por's bedroom, enjoying a rare moment of peace—no racing, no teasing, just the two of them curled up together on the couch.

Teetee had his arms wrapped around Por from behind, chin resting on his boyfriend's shoulder, a lazy grin on his face. Por, on the other hand, was pretending to be annoyed, but the way he subtly leaned into Teetee's warmth gave him away.

"You're too clingy," Por muttered.

Teetee hummed, tightening his hold. "And you love it."

Por scoffed. "Who said that?"

Teetee smirked. "Your ears."

Por cursed under his breath, slapping a hand over his very red ears, but before he could push Teetee away—

Click!

The door swung open.

And there stood Auntie Mali, holding a fresh set of laundry.

Por's soul left his body.

Teetee, however, just casually turned his head, blinking at her like this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Oh, hey, Auntie," he greeted, still wrapped around Por like an octopus.

Por, meanwhile, freaked out.

"WHY DON'T YOU KNOCK?!" he blurted, face burning red, trying to pry Teetee off him.

Auntie Mali just smirked.

"I did knock," she said, setting the laundry on a nearby chair. "You two were just too busy being lovebirds to notice."

Por groaned, burying his face in his hands. "This is so embarrassing."

Teetee chuckled, completely unbothered. "What? We weren't doing anything inappropriate." He squeezed Por tighter, resting his cheek against him. "Just me loving my boyfriend."

Por whipped around to glare at him. "WILL YOU STOP SAYING THAT IN FRONT OF HER?!"

Teetee grinned. "What? That I love you?"

Por choked.

Auntie Mali just cackled.

"Oh dear," she teased, watching Por struggle. "He's got you wrapped around his little finger, huh?"

Por groaned again, but Teetee?

Teetee just beamed, absolutely satisfied.

And no one saved Por from his suffering that night.

>>>>>>>

Chapter Text

Teetee stirred awake, his body feeling strangely heavy. His throat was dry, his head pounded, and worst of all—he was freezing.

He groaned, sluggishly shifting under the blanket, but even that felt like too much effort.

A shaky sigh came from beside him. "Finally awake?"

Teetee blinked, his vision blurry, but he could still make out the familiar figure sitting by the bed.

Por.

His boyfriend was perched on the edge of the mattress, arms crossed, but unlike his usual grumpy self, he looked distressed. His brows were furrowed, his lips pressed tight together, and—

Were his eyes red?

"...Phi?" Teetee croaked, voice hoarse.

Por sniffled and immediately looked away, rubbing at his eyes. "You have a fever."

Teetee tried to chuckle, but even that took too much effort. "Yeah. Figured that out already."

Por's jaw tightened. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Teetee blinked at him, surprised by the raw frustration in his tone. "Didn't wanna bother you."

"Bother me?" Por snapped, suddenly wiping at his eyes again. "Teetee, you were burning up! You were shivering in your sleep. What if it got worse? What was I supposed to do?"

Teetee's heart clenched.

Por... cried?

For him?

Teetee reached out, weakly tugging on Por's sleeve. "Phi... it's just a fever."

Por sniffled again, shaking his head. "I don't know how to take care of people." His voice wavered, frustration crumbling into something more vulnerable. "I haven't even been sick since I was seventeen. I—I don't know what to do."

Teetee softened.

Por wasn't just crying because he was worried. He was crying because he felt helpless.

Slowly, with what little energy he had, Teetee squeezed his sleeve. "You're already taking care of me, Phi."

Por sniffed. "But I don't—"

"You gave me medicine, right?" Teetee murmured. "And you stayed by my side?"

Por hesitated, nodding stiffly.

"Then you're doing great," Teetee said, smiling weakly. "I'll be fine. Just need to rest and take my meds. And maybe get a few forehead kisses, too."

Por snorted, even as he sniffled. "Idiot."

Teetee chuckled, tired but fond. "C'mon, Phi. Gimme a kiss. It's part of my treatment."

Por rolled his eyes but leaned down anyway, pressing the gentlest kiss to Teetee's damp forehead.

Teetee sighed happily. "Mmm. Feeling better already."

Por scoffed, shaking his head, but his expression had finally softened.

And this time, when Teetee drifted back to sleep, Por didn't let go of his hand.

When Teetee woke up again, the first thing he saw was Por's face hovering way too close.

"Holy shit—" Teetee jolted, but his weak body barely let him move.

Por gasped quietly. "You're awake."

Teetee blinked sluggishly. "Yeah... you tryna scare me to death or something?"

Por ignored the jab. Instead, he pressed his palm to Teetee's forehead again, checking his temperature with a furrowed brow. "Still warm..." he muttered under his breath.

Teetee squinted at him. Por looked exhausted. His usually neat hair was a mess, his shirt was wrinkled like he hadn't moved from the spot beside the bed all night, and his eyes were slightly red, like he had been rubbing them too much.

"Phi," Teetee rasped. "Did you even sleep?"

Por stiffened. He looked away, pretending to fix the blanket. "Not important."

Teetee let out a weak chuckle. "Damn. You must really love me, huh?"

Por didn't even deny it. Instead, he just sighed and grabbed the bowl of porridge from the nightstand. "You need to eat."

Teetee grimaced. "Ugh, I don't wanna."

"Teetee"

"No."

"Eat"

"I'm not gonna"

Por lowered his voice. "then I'm not gonna eat either"

That made Teetee pause.

 His heart squeezed a little. This wasn't Por being grumpy or naggy—he was genuinely worried.

"...Fine," Teetee murmured. He opened his mouth, letting Por feed him.

Por's shoulders visibly relaxed. He scooped another spoonful, his eyes locked onto Teetee's face, watching carefully, making sure he was eating properly.

Teetee swallowed, then sighed. "Okay, I'm full."

Por blinked. "You've had, like, seven spoons."

"Yeah, and?"

Por frowned. "Tee, you barely ate."

Teetee groaned. "Phi Por, I swear, I'll throw up if I eat more."

Por hesitated, clearly torn. He didn't want to force him, but he also didn't want Teetee getting weaker.

"...Just a few more?" Por asked softly, like he was negotiating with a toddler.

Teetee turned his head away dramatically. "Nope. Done."

Por huffed out a small, tired laugh. "You little shit."

Teetee peeked up at him and smirked weakly. "But I'm your little shit."

Por sighed, setting the bowl aside and gently pushing Teetee's hair out of his face. "Yeah. You are."

His voice was so, so soft.

Teetee felt his heart do a dumb little flip.

Maybe being sick wasn't so bad if it meant getting spoiled like this.

Por had never cooked a meal in his life.

Sure, he knew how to boil water. He could make instant noodles without burning the house down. But actually cooking? With real ingredients? That was an entirely different battle.

But Teetee was still recovering from his fever, and Por had promised to take care of him. That meant making him food, not just ordering takeout.

Which led him here—standing in the kitchen, staring at the ingredients on the counter like they were a complex puzzle he had no idea how to solve.

"Alright," Por muttered to himself, rolling up his sleeves. "How hard can this be?"

The answer? Very.

He tried chopping vegetables first—almost lost a finger. Tried frying an egg—burned it until it resembled charcoal. The rice? Either too soggy or completely uncooked.

But he wasn't going to give up. Not when Teetee was resting in bed, waiting for him.

By some miracle (and lots of trial and error), Por finally managed to put together something that looked like food. A bowl of rice, some stir-fried chicken, and soup that wasn't entirely a disaster.

Satisfied, he carefully carried the tray to the bedroom.

Teetee, half-asleep, blinked blearily at him when he entered. "P'Por...?"

"Sit up," Por ordered, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I made you food."

Teetee sat up sluggishly, rubbing his eyes. "You cooked?"

"Yeah," Por said, awkwardly looking away. "So you better eat all of it."

Teetee blinked down at the food, then back at Por. His lips twitched. "...Did you poison me?"

Por scowled. "Do you want to eat or not?"

Teetee laughed weakly before obediently taking a bite. His eyes widened. "Wait... this is actually—"

Por straightened up, pleased. "See? Told you I could cook—"

"—really salty."

Por's face fell. "What?"

"And spicy. And kinda burnt."

Teetee winced but still forced himself to chew.

Por's ears turned red. "Just stop eating if it's that bad."

But Teetee just smiled, shaking his head. "Nope. My boyfriend cooked for me. I have to finish it."

Por groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You're such an idiot."

Teetee chuckled. "An idiot in love with you."

Por huffed, looking away, ears still pink. "Whatever."

Teetee placed the empty bowl on the nightstand, licking his lips before looking up at Por. His boyfriend was still sulking at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, ears tinged red.

"You're still mad?" Teetee asked, voice soft with amusement.

Por huffed grumpily. "I made you food, and you just insulted it."

Teetee chuckled and reached out, gently tugging at Por's wrist. "Come here."

Por hesitated for a second before giving in, letting Teetee pull him closer until he was sitting beside him on the bed. Teetee scooted even closer, resting his head on Por's shoulder, his voice turning softer, warmer.

"You did so well, P'Por," he murmured.

Por stiffened slightly, not expecting the sudden praise. "But you said it was salty—"

Teetee cut him off by intertwining their fingers, squeezing gently. "It was. But it was also the best meal I've ever had."

Por turned his head to look at him, skeptical. "Really?"

Teetee nodded, smiling. "You cooked for me, even though you didn't have to. Even though you don't know how. You still tried, just for me." He squeezed Por's hand again. "That makes it perfect."

Por swallowed, his heart doing that stupid little flip in his chest. "You're being dramatic."

Teetee only grinned, shifting to press a soft kiss against Por's cheek. "And you're being cute, my precious P'Por."

Por groaned, leaning away. "Stop that—"

Teetee laughed, catching him by the collar and pulling him back. He cupped Por's face, thumbs brushing over his warm cheeks. "I love you, P'Por. And I love everything you do for me. Even if you burn the kitchen down next time."

Por sighed, defeated, but his lips twitched up into a small, flustered smile. "...Fine. But next time, I'm just ordering food."

Teetee smirked. "Nope. Next time, I'm teaching you how to cook properly."

Por groaned, but deep down, he didn't actually mind. Not when Teetee was looking at him like that, soft and full of love. 

>>>>>>>

The TV buzzed softly in the background, casting a dim glow across the room. Teetee was lounging on the couch, one arm tucked behind his head, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. The show playing in front of him was just background noise—he wasn't really paying attention.

But then—he heard it.

Sluggish footsteps.

Soft, uneven padding against the wooden floor, slow and heavy, like someone wasn't fully awake.

Teetee looked up just in time to see Por shuffling toward him, his hair a complete mess, his eyes barely open. His oversized shirt hung loosely off one shoulder, and the elastic waistband of his sweatpants was twisted, like he hadn't even bothered fixing them before getting out of bed.

Teetee raised an eyebrow. Huh.

"P'Por?" he called, watching as Por walked straight toward him—not answering, not stopping.

And then—Por just collapsed onto his lap.

"Oof—" Teetee let out a small grunt as Por's full weight pressed against him.

Arms lazily wrapped around his waist. A very warm face buried into his stomach.

What. The. Hell.

Teetee stiffened. His brain struggled to catch up. "Uh...P'Por?"

A sleepy hum.

Then, Por nuzzled deeper.

Teetee's eyes widened. Was he dreaming?

"Are you serious right now?" he muttered.

Por gave the smallest, laziest nod.

Teetee exhaled sharply, completely thrown off. He expected Por to roll over and go back to sleep after their nightly teasing sessions—not this.

He lifted a hand hesitantly, hovering over Por's back. What was he supposed to do here?

But then—Por mumbled something.

"...Cold."

A simple, quiet, pathetic little word.

And just like that—Teetee was gone.

The smug remark he had on the tip of his tongue? Gone.

The urge to tease? Gone.

Instead, something warm and way too fond spread through his chest.

Teetee huffed, rolling his eyes. "So you went to me to feel warm?"

Por made a soft noise, half hum, half incoherent murmur.

Teetee fought the stupid smile tugging at his lips. This guy.

He shifted slightly, making sure Por was comfortable, and without thinking, his hand started moving—slow, gentle circles against Por's back.

Por exhaled deeply, melting into him.

And that was when it really hit Teetee.

No one else got to see this side of Por.

Not the racers who feared him. Not his parents. Not even Patji.

Just him.

Only he got to have P'Por like this—warm, vulnerable, soft.

Teetee smirked. "You really aren't gonna move, huh?"

Por shook his head lazily. "Mmm."

Teetee chuckled, brushing his fingers up into Por's hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.

Another hum. Another little soft breath.

Teetee definitely wasn't imagining it.

His heart did a stupid little flip. Oh, this was dangerous.

"...Only I get to see you like this, right?" he murmured.

Por didn't answer, but the way he nuzzled deeper said enough.

Teetee smiled.

The TV kept playing. The night stretched on. But all Teetee cared about was the boy curled up in his arms, clinging to him like he belonged there.

>>>>>>>

"What about other days?" Por asked, frowning.

"Busy," Thomas replied simply. "But if you're only free tomorrow, I can bring Kong along. You bring Teetee."

Por sighed but agreed, and so the four of them met up at a pub the next night.

The moment Teetee and Kong started chatting, they clicked instantly. It was almost ridiculous how fast they got along. Kong was friendly and sweet, while Teetee was loud and clumsy—it wasn't hard for them to talk comfortably around each other.

"Oh, you're the famous Teetee?" Kong grinned, sipping his drink. "I've heard a lot about you."

Teetee smirked. "All good things, I hope."

"Mmm," Kong hummed, then turned to Thomas with an innocent smile. "By the way, Thomas. You were supposed to apologize, remember?"

Thomas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Right. Teetee, I—"

"Louder," Kong cut in, crossing his arms.

Teetee snickered. "Yeah, P'Thomas, put some heart into it."

Thomas gave them both a blank stare before muttering, "I'm sorry for almost killing you."

Kong patted his boyfriend's arm approvingly. "Good job, baby."

Por watched the scene unfold and exhaled, shaking his head. "That was painful to watch."

While their boyfriends laughed and continued their playful banter, Por and Thomas got into a serious conversation about their business.

"We need to strengthen the system," Por said, leaning against the table. "If we don't tighten security, it'll be too easy for the wrong people to slip in."

Thomas nodded. "Exactly. We can't afford to let any unwanted shady interference disrupt things."

Por tapped his fingers against his glass. "That's why I'm only agreeing to manage things externally. You know how dangerous this can get."

"I do." Thomas swirled his drink before taking a sip. "I wouldn't have handed it to you otherwise."

Their conversation was cut short when they heard a series of coos and excited giggles. Both turned their heads and saw their boyfriends crouched down on the floor, playing with the pub owner's dog. 

Teetee was scratching behind the dog's ears, beaming. "Who's a good boy? You're such a good boy!"

Kong, equally delighted, rubbed the dog's belly. "Look at those big eyes! So cute!"

Por and Thomas exchanged glances, momentarily speechless. They had been talking about the dangers of their business, yet here their boyfriends were, completely mesmerized by a tiny, fluffy dog.

"They're ridiculous," Thomas muttered.

Por, watching Teetee's bright smile, let out a small chuckle. "Yeah. But we love them."

Thomas scoffed but didn't argue, turning back to his drink as their boyfriends continued fawning over the dog.

After the pub, the four of them headed to an ice cream shop. Kong, who had been lively all evening, started to lose his energy. He leaned against Thomas, his head resting against his boyfriend's shoulder as he ate his strawberry ice cream, looking half-asleep.

Thomas glanced down and sighed. "You always do this. You get all excited and then run out of energy like a phone on one percent."

Kong only hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly licked his ice cream. "Strawberry is so good, though..."

Meanwhile, Teetee turned his attention back to Por, eyes narrowing slightly. He had noticed something. "P'Por, why are you pouting?"

Por, startled, immediately straightened his expression. "I'm not."

"Liar," Teetee said, grinning. He scooped up a spoonful of mango ice cream and held it up. "Here, say 'ahh'."

Por scowled. "No."

"P'Por," Teetee cooed dramatically, leaning in closer. "Don't be shy. Open up."

Por's ears turned red as he glanced around, but before he could protest again, Teetee gently pressed the spoon against his lips. Defeated, Por finally took the bite, avoiding Teetee's teasing gaze.

Teetee beamed. "See? Was that so hard?"

Por swallowed and glared at him. "You're annoying."

"And you love it," Teetee sang, scooping another spoonful. "Want another one?"

Por sighed, covering his face with one hand while Teetee continued to tease and feed him, clearly enjoying every second of it. Thomas, watching from across the table, simply shook his head at the scene before glancing down at Kong, who was now fully slumped against him, asleep with his half-eaten ice cream still in hand.

Thomas exhaled. "Time to go home."

On the drive back, Teetee kept talking about how amazing Kong was—how lively, expressive, and easy to get along with him.

Por bit his lip, feeling self-conscious. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter before glancing at Teetee. "But... you still love me, right?"

Teetee blinked at him before breaking into a grin. "Aw, is my grumpy kitten feeling insecure?" he teased, reaching over to poke Por's cheek.

Por clicked his tongue, eyes focused on the road. "Forget it."

But Teetee didn't. He softened, leaning closer. "P'Por, you're my favorite," he murmured, squeezing Por's thigh reassuringly. "Kong's cool, yeah, but I only wanna annoy you for the rest of my life."

Por exhaled, shoulders relaxing as he continued driving, his grip on the wheel no longer as tense. "Good."

Teetee smirked, satisfied. "So cute. My P'Por is so cute."

"Shut up, Teetee."

Teetee had made a terrible mistake.

It wasn't crashing Por's car, nor was it accidentally setting off the fire alarm while cooking. No, this was worse.

He had shrunk Por's entire wardrobe.

Por's expensive button-ups, his tailored pants, even his favorite black hoodie—all reduced to laughably tiny versions of themselves.

And now, Teetee was suffering the consequences.

Por had put him on timeout.

All day long, he ignored Teetee completely, refusing to let him get close. Teetee, who practically thrived on clinging to his boyfriend, was dying from the distance.

"Phi Poooor," Teetee whined, pouting as he trailed behind Por like a lost puppy.

Por, sitting on the couch with his arms crossed, flicked his eyes up briefly before pointing a single finger at Teetee.

The silent warning was clear.

No touching. No hugs. No kisses. Nothing.

Teetee gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "Phi Por, please, I can't live like this."

No response.

Por simply sipped his tea, looking calm and unaffected.

"Baby," Teetee tried again, softer this time, voice dripping with desperation. "Phi Por, I'll buy you new clothes, okay? Don't do this to me..."

Por pointed his finger again.

Teetee groaned and flopped onto the floor like a dying man, arms outstretched toward Por, but unable to touch. His lips trembled. His fingers twitched. He needed his boyfriend, dammit!

By night time, Teetee was a wreck. His eyes were big and sad, his shoulders slumped. As Por stood by the bed, about to climb in, Teetee sat on the floor beside him, looking utterly defeated.

"...I'm sorry," he murmured, voice small. "I won't do it again. I swear, Phi Por."

Por let out a long sigh, like he was truly considering whether to forgive him. Then, finally, finally, he reached out and pulled Teetee into his arms.

Teetee barely had a second to react before Por's lips were on him, pressing hot, teasing kisses to his cheeks, his jaw, his lips. Teetee gasped, clutching at Por's shirt like a man starving.

"Never again," Por muttered between kisses.

"Never! I swear, never!" Teetee breathed out, already dizzy from the affection.

Por smirked, his dark eyes glinting with something dangerous. He leaned in close, voice dropping low.

"Good." A pause. Then—"But you're still getting punished."

Teetee blinked, momentarily confused—before he was suddenly pushed down onto the bed, Por hovering over him, completely in control.

Teetee's face burned. Oh.

Por leaned in, brushing his lips against Teetee's ear. "You made me suffer all day. Now it's your turn."

And just like that, the real punishment began.

He had apologized. He had promised never to ruin Por's clothes again. He had looked as pathetic as possible to win his boyfriend's forgiveness. And Por had forgiven him—at least, that's what Teetee thought when he was pulled into his arms, kissed breathless, and told, "I love you, for life."

But now, lying on the bed with Por hovering over him, Teetee realized his mistake.

Por wasn't done with him yet.

The next thing Teetee knew, he was aleady naked.

Por was taking his time, teasing, torturing—pressing slow, lingering kisses along Teetee's jaw, down his neck, tracing soft, feather-light touches over his skin.

But never his most hard, sensitive part.

Teetee's lips parted, his breathing uneven as he tilted his chin up, silently begging. Por had ignored him all day, hadn't let him touch him, hadn't even let him speak properly to him. And now, just when Teetee thought he was free, this was happening?

"Phi Poooor," Teetee whined, desperate, bucking his hips up, chasing after Por's touch.

Por dodged him effortlessly, letting out a quiet chuckle as he touched the inner side of Teetee's thighs—close, so close to where he wanted P'Por to touch him, but he never directly there.

Teetee let out a frustrated noise, fisting the sheets beneath him. "Why are you like this?"

Por smirked against his skin, his lips trailing down to Teetee's collarbone, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss there. "What?" he murmured, voice infuriatingly calm. "I thought you wanted my attention."

Teetee shuddered, eyes squeezing shut. "I—I do! Just—"

Por nipped at Teetee's ear before whispering, "Then be patient."

Patient?! Patient?!

Teetee was going to die.

"Phi Por," Teetee whimpered again, gripping at Por's shoulders now, trying to pull him down, but Por was stronger, meaner, and completely in control. eventhough he's smaller.

Por smiled, eyes dark with amusement. He leaned in so close that their lips almost touched—so close that Teetee could feel Por's breath against his skin, but then—

Por pulled away.

Teetee made a sound of pure agony. "You're evil."

Por laughed softly, brushing Teetee's hair back. "Maybe."

Teetee pouted. "Please."

Por raised a brow. "Please...what?"

Teetee groaned, squirming beneath him, burning from sheer anticipation. "Please—please just touch me already! You've been ignoring me all day, I—I need it."

Finally—finally—after a whole day of being ignored, after hours of suffering through Por's teasing, he was getting exactly what he needed.

Por's hand went down and touch him, taking his manhood in his hand, craddle it and start touching him senseless, his hands warm and steady as they do teetee faster, pressing him into the mattress. Teetee clung to him desperately, breathless, wanting more, needing more.

He arched up, fingers digging into Por's back. "Phi Por..." he gasped, lips swollen from all the kissing.

Por hummed, his hand move faster, sliding up and down, deepening the kiss for just a second—before suddenly... he pulled away.  

Teetee blinked, dazed, chest rising and falling. "H-Huh?"

Por didn't say anything. He just smirked, rolled over, and casually pulled the blanket over himself.

Then, with the most innocent, final-sounding voice, he murmured—

"Goodnight, Teetee."

...WHAT.

Teetee's brain short-circuited.

His entire body was buzzing, his skin felt too hot, his lips were tingling, and this bastard—this actual demon—was telling him goodnight?!

"W-Wait," Teetee stammered, grabbing at Por's shirt. "You can't—you can't just—"

Por simply patted his hand, like a parent telling a child to behave. "Sleep well."

Teetee felt betrayed, humiliated, cockblocked to hell and back.

He sat up, glaring down at Por's calm, composed, evil face. "You're joking."

Por didn't even open his eyes. "Nope."

Teetee's jaw dropped.

"PHI POR, YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!"

A soft chuckle. Then—nothing.

Por was already getting comfortable, fully committed to ignoring him again.

Teetee flopped back onto the bed, suffering.

His whole body ached from wanting Por, from needing him, from—Ughhh!

"You want it so bad, Tee?" por lazily reach to hold his hand. 

Teetee nod his head eagerly, desperately, the cool air conditioner makes his cock twitch. 

"Please, P'Por?"

"hmmm, do it yourself then"

"H-huh"

"get off by yourself"

Teetee gulp, he's still on his back, looking down at his erection while Por watch him closely from the side. Teetee's fingers tremble, slowly hover over his hard, standing erection, was about to wrap his hand around him until Por grabbed his wrist. 

"No touching"

Teetee's stomach flipped. Por was enjoying this, the look on Teetee's face, it was so precious.

"T-then, how am i supposed to get off?" teetee whimpered, desperate.

"I dont know, use that brain of yours." 

The way Por said it was like it's not a big deal at all. 

Teetee's mind races, thinking about what he should do, another whine went past his lips.

"tch, stupid." Por lets go off his wrist, and take a pillow from Teetee's side and place it on the bed.

"use this, then" Teetee's face felt hot.

Teetee whimper in embarassment. "P-Phi Por....."

"hurry up, before i fall asleep" His voice turned dark, enjoying teetee in this state.

Teetee got up, kneel on the bed, hands trembling as he adjusted the pillow under his hips.

Then slowly, carefully he lets himself fall on it, rutting his cock slowly against the soft, white silk pillow. 

Oh.

It felt electrical, Teetee's body twitched. the cool material against his hot flesh was too good he shuddered.

''hngggh"

Por smirked. 

Teetee panted, whiny and high, his other other went to hold Por's hand, intertwining their hands together while the other one grip the sheet to support himself as he ruts faster and harder.

Not even halfway through, Teetee stopped as he gasped. Must've hit a bundle of sensitive nerves.

"You're doing great Tee," Por stroked his boyfriend's soft cheeks, earning a soft mewl from the younger.

Por taps his hips, encouraging him to keep going.

"Hah.. ah! Ah! Ah.."

The younger couldn't stop moaning and whimpering from humping, and gosh, did Por love it.

Teetee knew to alter his speed as he stopped humping. This time he rolled his hips, grinding his ass back and forth on the soft pillow. his hair is a mess by now.

Por noticed the way Teetee's abdomen contracts and his hips tremble.

"Cumming baby?"

"Phi P-Por.. Cumming! I'm cumming..hah—"

Por didn't let Teetee stop, wouldn't let him stop, Teetee humping the pillow roughly until he cummed so hard, twice, until he was breathless, until every gasp turned into a whimper, until every protest was too broken to sound like a real complaint.

"Phi.. hah.. feels good.." Teetee rolled his hip, grinding his ass back and forth against the pillow.

But Por would not let him stop.

"P'Por hng," Teetee kept on calling Por's name, looking like a horny slut while rolling his hip back and forth rapidly.

The younger's cheeks were flushed in such a lovely baby-pink, eyes already glossy from the pleasure.

"Phi-Por. please," at this point, Teetee was desperately rubbing his leaking cock against the pillow.

"Fuck, you're so cute," Por groaned.

"P-Por—" Teetee hiccupped, his voice wrecked, hands fisting the hem of the pillow. "T-Too much, I—"

but Por's eyes were sharp, hungry. Unrelenting.

"Too much?" he murmured,

Teetee shuddered, back arching off the bed, brain melting into nothing.

His mind turned white.

Po watched how the clear fluid leaked slowly yet continuously.

Teetee let out a high, broken whimper, hips still moving  "T-Too much—P'Por, enough—mmhm enough—"

"Enough?" Por murmured, voice mocking, amused, dark. "You sure?"

"I thought you wanted me to stop ignoring you?"

Teetee whined, legs trembling. "T-This is—this is different — Ahhh!"

Por smirked "Too bad."

Teetee's eyes rolled back, his mind blanking out completely as he reached his climax once again, body jerking forward as his white sticky fluid wet the pillow even more leaving him breathless, dumb, ruined beyond repair.

"You like that?" Por cooed.

 "Phi Por...." The younger's whines were heavy with sleepiness and growing neediness, "m' sleepy.."

"two more"

"P'Por—enough—" he slurred, voice hoarse, barely able to form words. "I can't—I can't—"

But Por didn't listen.

Didn't relent.

"Two more, Tee"

"Hnnn.. no.."

"Tee," dark, commanding.

Teetee start moving his hips again,  so sensitive he felt like crying at how the rough treatment felt so good, "P-Por.. too much.."

"Hah..hngh.." Teetee threw his head back, arching his spine.

"okay, shhh, just a little bit more, baby."  he babytalked him through it, voice sweet and syrupy. "Thats right, so so pretty. just cum, Tee. let it all out" 

"Eung.." the younger seemed to be drowning in pleasure to the point of being unable to form coherent words.

His cock continuously leaked sticky white cum as it bounced along, the bed creaking a bit.

"Good." Por praise him, hand reaching to pet Teetee's brown locks. 

Teetee stops, his hips feeling numb. his breathing ragged, cock twitching from the overstimulation. 

Por snuggled, pulling the blanket higher to his neck. "Keep going, you're not stopping" and watch how Teetee sobs, shoulder shaking. from this angle, Teetee looks so good. so wrecked.

"go on" He urge again. "I know you've got some more in you"

and with that, Teetee starts humping, again. and again. and again. and again. and again, and again, over and over and over again.

Its gonna be a long night for Teetee, Poor him :(

The pillow was soaking wet by the time Por was done with his boyfriend, 

Teetee passed out immediately after, leaving P'Por to clean him up.

 Por kisses him multiple times on the forehead, whispering soft words while pulling Teetee close to him.

"I love you" Por peck his lips, smiling when he saw Teetee snuggled into his chest more.

"mhhm love you too..."

- the end -