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Phuwin had known Gemini literally his entire life. Well, since he was older, the correct technical term would be that he had known Gemini for literally Gemini’s entire life. And he had adored Gemini for most of it. But in that adoration was a deeply ingrained, sibling-shaped knot of exasperation, because Phuwin was convinced that Gemini was born to be his rage baiter.
He remembered with vivid clarity the day the balance of power had permanently shifted. It wasn't a specific date, but a slow, dawning horror of a realization that spanned a year. Gemini’s growth spurt wasn't just vertical; it was a comprehensive architectural overhaul. His shoulders broadened, his frame filled out, and the lanky boy was replaced by an athlete whose biceps were, Phuwin could admit with begrudging respect, truly impressive. And with that new power came a new-found confidence in their sibling warfare.
Their fights became less about whining to their parents and more about tactical, physical engagements. The remote control was a frequent prize, a plastic talisman of victory that saw them wrestling on the living room floor. A bag of chips could incite a conflict worthy of a historical epic. And Phuwin, more often than not, found himself on the losing end. He’d been pinned down more times than he could count, his ribcage having made intimate acquaintance with Gemini’s knee so frequently that at one point he was genuinely convinced he’d sported a crack or two. (He hadn't, but the lingering phantom ache was a testament to his brother’s strength). The point was, Phuwin was acutely, physically aware of the human hurricane he called a brother.
Gemini wasn't built like a stereotypical, hulking gym bro. His strength was leaner, more functional—the kind built through years of discipline in various martial arts, not just lifting weights. But the fact remained: Gemini could, and on one mortifying occasion had, bench-pressed him. It was a low point in Phuwin's life, a demonstration of power so blatant and embarrassing that it had effectively ended an argument about who got the last spring roll. Gemini was, by every measurable metric, no damsel in distress.
Except, of course, when Fourth Nattawat Jirochtikul was concerned.
To give his brother some credit—and to be fair to Fourth—Fourth was genuinely strong. Phuwin knew this because Fourth was his friend first. They were still best friends, a bond forged in university and solidified through shared classes and mutual talent for driving each other insane. Eventually, through proximity and Phuwin’s own doing, Gemini and Fourth had become friends. But their relationship was… different. They were softer with each other, a fact that said volumes considering Fourth was also one of Phuwin’s primary rage baiters.
No, seriously. Fourth possessed a unique and infuriating ability to debate a point long after he knew he was objectively, undeniably wrong, just to see the precise moment Phuwin’s carefully constructed composure would shatter. It was a sport to him. But Fourth was also a ray of sunshine, the sort of person whose mere entrance into a room could lift the collective mood, a human embodiment of rainbows and sparkles who just happened to enjoy poking bears.
And Phuwin could admit, without reservation, that Fourth was physically formidable. He’d been to the gym with Fourth; he knew the impressive numbers he could push on the bench press. He knew, from firsthand, humiliating experience, that Fourth could effortlessly scoop him up bridal-style without so much as a strained breath. (An incident he preferred to never speak of again).
But when Gemini and Fourth "fought," it was a spectacle of such profound, one-sided weakness from Gemini that Phuwin felt he was watching a poorly acted stage play.
Exhibit A: The Case of the Television Remote.
Just last week,Phuwin had been a captive audience to a dispute over viewing rights. Fourth wanted to watch a whimsical Cartoon Network show; Gemini was entrenched in a new anime. Instead of the complex grappling maneuver Phuwin expected from his brother, he watched in disbelief as Fourth simply pushed Gemini back onto the couch, pinned his wrists above his head, and claimed the remote. Gemini, a black belt in Taekwondo and a seasoned MMA practitioner, had offered the resistance of a wet noodle. He’d let it happen, a faint, dazed smile on his face as he looked up at Fourth. The man could disarm a skilled opponent in a ring, but couldn't—or wouldn't—stop Fourth from using a move straight out of a cheesy romance novel.
Exhibit B: The Sudden Onset of Weak Grip Syndrome.
When Fourth was around,Gemini’s hands apparently turned into useless, delicate things. A bottle of water was suddenly sealed with the strength of a bank vault, and he would pout, handing it to Fourth with a helpless, "Fot, can you? It's stuck." A jar of pickles? An impossible geological artifact, sealed for millennia, completely beyond Gemini's capabilities. Fourth would pop it open with a casual twist and a cheerful grin, and Gemini would look at him with stars in his eyes, as if he’d just performed a miracle of biblical proportions.
Exhibit C: The Mysterious Vanishing Stamina.
Gemini,the athlete who could run 10km as a casual Tuesday afternoon exercise (managing his childhood asthma without issue), suddenly transformed into a frail Victorian nobleman the moment they embarked on a 5km hike. Halfway up the trail, he was "exhausted," leaning heavily on Fourth, complaining about the incline. Phuwin had to watch, his jaw tight, as Fourth—the shorter of the two—ended up giving his brother a piggyback ride the rest of the way, Gemini’s long legs dangling ridiculously.
"You need to build your stamina, Gem," Fourth had advised, his tone full of genuine concern.
"Ugh, Fot, you know I hate going to the gym," Gemini had whined in reply, resting his chin on Fourth's shoulder.
Lies! Phuwin had shot a look at Pond, who had simply shrugged, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. How did Gemini explain his entire physique if he didn't go to the gym? Those broad shoulders? Those defined arms? Genetics? Please. Phuwin shared those same genes. Their family tree was populated with tall, lanky, slender beings. He and his brother had their athletic builds precisely because they dedicated hours to sports and, contrary to Gemini's current performance, actually went to the goddamn gym.
So, one might reasonably wonder, why put up the act? Why this elaborate, transparent charade of helplessness?
Well, Phuwin wasn't a detective, but the answer was so obvious it practically had its own spotlight. Gemini had a crush on Fourth. A massive, debilitating, embarrassingly obvious crush.
Obviously, Gemini would deny it with the fervor of a cornered wolverine if Phuwin ever confronted him directly. And a direct confrontation would, in all likelihood, end with Phuwin being kneed in the ribcage again. So, for now, he just watched. He collected the evidence. He suffered through the secondhand embarrassment.
And he waited for the day his brother's pathetic, lovesick act would finally, inevitably, blow up in his face.
---
Fourth visited their house a lot. To be fair, he was friends with both of them, and their mother had practically adopted him. Mrs. Titichoenrak adored Fourth, often lamenting that unlike her own sons—who dodged her affections like professional dodgeball players—Fourth would stand still and allow his cheeks to be pinched without complaint. He was always polite, well-mannered, and most importantly in her eyes, genuinely cute. So, his presence on a lazy Sunday afternoon was as expected as the humidity.
The plan was for Phuwin, Pond, and Fourth to watch a new, highly-recommended action flick. Gemini, who had mysteriously cleared his previously busy schedule the moment he’d overheard Phuwin on the phone with Fourth, was also "coincidentally" free.
Now, Gemini was planted on the couch, sitting so close to Fourth that their thighs were practically fused, playing the role of the ‘host’ who couldn’t be bothered to help with the snacks. This left Pond and Phuwin in the kitchen, assembling a pyramid of popcorn and pouring drinks.
"Your brother’s a terrible host," Pond commented, shaking his head in amusement as he watched Gemini laugh at something Fourth said.
"He's not hosting, he's performing," Phuwin grumbled, shoving a bag of chips onto a tray with more force than necessary.
It was then that the performance reached its next act. From the living room, they heard Gemini’s voice, laced with a concern that was just a little too dramatic.
"Fot, what happened to your hand?"
Phuwin looked over. Fourth’s knuckles did look a little red, a faint bruise blooming across them.
Fourth grinned, holding up his hand for inspection. "I bruised it when I punched someone."
A snort escaped Phuwin before he could stop it. Gemini mirrored his disbelief. Not that Fourth was incapable—he absolutely was—but because Fourth was the type to apologize to an opponent after he’d beaten the living daylights out of them. He fought with skill, not with rage.
"Were you boxing? Hit the sandbag too hard?" Gemini asked, playing the part of the worried, clueless friend.
"No. I literally hit someone," Fourth insisted, his grin widening at their skepticism. "What, you don't believe me?"
Gemini rolled his eyes, a masterful display of feigned nonchalance. "Oh, please. As if you would."
It was a trap. Phuwin could see it as clearly as the neon sign over Gemini’s head that blinked ‘PLEASE TOUCH ME.’ Gemini was actively baiting him.
"I can give you a demonstration," Fourth said, his eyes glinting with challenge.
"As if. I'm a black belt," Gemini retorted, the words dripping with a false sense of superiority that was completely at odds with the hopeful gleam in his eyes.
And that was all the invitation Fourth needed.
In a movement almost too fast to track—a blend of boxing agility and Muay Thai grace—Fourth had Gemini off the couch and pinned to the living room rug. He straddled Gemini’s hips, easily catching his wrists and pinning them to the floor above his head. The most infuriating part? Fourth wasn't even putting in that much effort. He wasn't straining; he was just… holding him there, comfortably.
"You were saying?" Fourth asked, a single eyebrow arched in triumphant amusement.
And Gemini? Gemini was a lost cause. He was breathless, his chest rising and falling dramatically. A faint blush painted his cheeks, and his eyes were wide, fixed on Fourth’s face. He looked less like a captured martial artist and more like a romance novel cover model.
"Get off me," Gemini demanded, his voice a strained whisper. He gave a half-hearted wiggle, a pathetic attempt to free himself that wouldn't have subdued a toddler. Phuwin’s mind flashed back to being in the exact same position a few weeks ago; his own struggle had lasted all of three seconds before he’d been subdued with a strategic knee to the ribs.
"Make me," Fourth purred, leaning down just a little, his face inches from Gemini’s.
"Are they flirting?" Pond whispered, his voice low and utterly captivated by the display from the kitchen doorway.
"I think so," Phuwin replied, his tone flat with secondhand embarrassment. "It's either flirting, or my brother has suffered a sudden and total muscular atrophy."
On the floor, Gemini wiggled again, a futile, squirming motion that only served to make the entire situation look more suggestive. "Help!" he called out, his voice cracking.
Phuwin knew what that cry actually meant. It wasn't a call for rescue. It was a plea for everyone to vacate the room immediately so that Fourth could… well, Phuwin’s brain short-circuited before it could complete that thought.
"Your brother always challenges Fourth," Pond observed, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. "But I think what he's actually saying is that he wants Fourth to top him."
Phuwin gagged, swatting Pond’s arm. "Never say that to me again. Do not put that image in my head. I will bleach my brain." He shuddered violently.
Pond just threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing through the room. "It's true! Look at him! He's not trying to win; he's trying to lose as appealingly as possible."
On the floor, Fourth finally released Gemini’s wrists, pushing himself up with a easy smile. Gemini lay there for a moment, dazed and starry-eyed, before slowly propping himself up on his elbows, the picture of disheveled, faux-defeated charm.
"See?" Fourth said, flexing his hand with a wink. "I can throw a punch."
"Yeah," Gemini breathed out, his voice still airy. "I see."
Phuwin looked at the forgotten popcorn, then at the two on the floor, and finally at his laughing boyfriend. He sighed, the long-suffering sigh of an older brother who was being forced to watch a live-action rom-com where the lead actor was embarrassingly, hopelessly, and utterly gone for his best friend.
The action movie, he decided, would probably be less dramatic than this.
---
The movie was a blur of gratuitous explosions and poorly CGI-ed car chases. Phuwin couldn’t focus on a single second of it. His attention was entirely consumed by the charged, awkward, and palpably fluffy atmosphere radiating from the other end of the couch.
After the Great Pinning Incident, Gemini had floated back to his seat looking like he’d just won the lottery and been lightly concussed at the same time. He was uncharacteristically quiet, sneaking glances at Fourth whenever he thought no one was looking. Fourth, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered, munching on popcorn and cheering during the film’s most ridiculous action sequences as if he hadn’t just used Phuwin’s brother as a human rug.
Pond, the traitor, spent the entire runtime with a knowing smirk, his eyes darting between the screen and the two idiots on the loveseat. He’d occasionally nudge Phuwin and raise his eyebrows, a silent, “See? I told you so.” Phuwin would just respond with a grimace.
When the credits finally rolled, Fourth stretched, his shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of toned stomach. Gemini’s eyes, predictably, snapped to the exposed skin like a homing missile.
“That was awesome!” Fourth declared, bouncing to his feet. “The part where he jumped the motorcycle from one skyscraper to another? So cool.”
“So unrealistic,” Gemini murmured, but there was no heat in it. He was still in a daze.
“Well, I’ve got to head out,” Fourth said, grabbing his jacket. “Early gym session tomorrow. Gotta keep up my demonstrable strength.” He shot a playful wink at Gemini, who promptly turned the color of a ripe tomato.
Their mother chose that moment to emerge from her room. “Leaving so soon, Fourth? Gemini, see your friend out properly!”
This was normally the part where Gemini would grumble and give a half-wave from the couch. Today, he shot up like a rocket. “I’ll walk you to your bike.”
The moment the front door closed behind them, Phuwin spun to face Pond. “See? Did you see that? He’s malfunctioning!”
“He’s smitten,” Pond corrected, gathering the empty bowls. “It’s kind of adorable.”
“It’s kind of nauseating,” Phuwin retorted, but his protest was weak. A part of him, a very small, deeply buried part, did find it slightly… endearing. But the larger, more dominant part was still exasperated.
The next few days were a masterclass in pathetic pining. Gemini was glued to his phone, sighing dramatically whenever a text from Fourth didn’t immediately appear. He ‘accidentally’ baked too many cookies and insisted they had to be given to Fourth because “he looks like he needs feeding.” He even started watching Fourth’s favorite cartoon network shows, “just to see what the hype is about.”
The final straw came on Wednesday.
Phuwin decided to drag his moping brother to the gym for a sparring session, hoping to knock some sense back into him. It was a mistake.
In the ring, Gemini was a ghost of his former self. His movements were sluggish, his blocks were slow, and his eyes kept drifting towards the heavy bags where a certain someone usually trained.
“Get your head in the game!” Phuwin snapped after landing a light tap to Gemini’s shoulder that should have been easily deflected. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Gemini mumbled, dodging another punch with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.
“Is this about Fourth?” Phuwin asked, lowering his gloves.
Gemini’s head snapped up, panic in his eyes. “No! What? Why would it be about Fourth? That’s— that’s ridiculous.” The denial was so swift and flustered it was a confession in itself.
“You know,” Phuwin said, deciding to switch tactics. He leaned against the ropes, feigning nonchalance. “If you like him, you should just tell him. This whole ‘I’m-a-helpless-baby-bird’ routine is getting old.”
The panic in Gemini’s eyes morphed into sheer terror. “I don’t— I’m not— Shut up.” He launched himself at Phuwin, and for a beautiful, brief moment, the old Gemini was back. He moved with fluid, precise aggression, quickly maneuvering Phuwin into a submission hold against the mat.
“Okay, okay! I yield!” Phuwin gasped, tapping out.
Gemini released him, his breathing slightly heavy. “Don’t… don’t say things like that,” he muttered, avoiding Phuwin’s eyes. “He doesn’t see me like that. He just sees me as his best friend’s weird brother.”
And there it was. The core of the issue. The fear that the carefully constructed dynamic would shatter if he introduced something as volatile as real feelings.
Later that evening, as Phuwin was complaining to Pond about his brother’s emotional constipation, his phone buzzed. It was a text from Fourth.
Fourth: hey, is gem ok? he seemed kinda out of it at the gym today.
Phuwin stared at the message. Fourth had noticed. Of course he had. Gemini’s “helpless” act was one thing; it was a choice, a flirty performance. But this moping, distracted version of his brother was clearly different, and Fourth was observant enough to pick up on it.
Pond read the message over his shoulder. “See? He’s paying attention.”
“What do I even say to that?” Phuwin groaned.
Phuwin: He’s fine. Just being a moody weirdo. You know how he is.
Fourth: lol yeah. tell him i said hi! and that he owes me a rematch 😉
Phuwin showed Pond the phone.
“A rematch,” Pond repeated, a grin spreading across his face. “See? He’s initiating. Your brother’s ‘pathetic’ act is working better than any grand confession ever could.”
Phuwin sighed, a long, weary sound that came from the very depths of his soul. He had a sinking feeling that this was only the beginning. The pinning was just the opening scene. Now, he was stuck watching the entire slow-burn romance unfold in real time, and his brother was the worst—and most entertaining—leading man he’d ever seen.
---
Now that Phuwin was acutely aware of the pathetic, lovesick hurricane that was his brother’s heart, a new, more solemn duty befell him: reconnaissance. He loved Gemini, for reasons that were currently bafflingly unclear, and he didn’t actually want to see him get his ribs—or, more importantly, his feelings—crushed. So, he decided to become a spy in the house of love, meticulously observing Fourth to see if there was even a flicker of reciprocation.
For the most part, Fourth seemed his usual, cheerfully oblivious self. He treated Gemini with the same easy-going affection he always had. But Phuwin was observant. He had to be; it was a survival skill honed by years of dealing with Gemini’s nonsense.
He started a mental checklist.
Clue #1: The Snacks.
Whenever Fourth came over,he’d often arrive with a plastic bag full of treats. “Got some stuff for everyone!” he’d announce. But Phuwin noticed a pattern. The “stuff for everyone” always, without fail, included the specific brand of seaweed chips Gemini was obsessed with, the overly sweet milk candy he hoarded, and the weirdly flavored soda he claimed was “refreshing.” The rest were generic, crowd-pleasing chips. Was it a coincidence that Fourth’s “for everyone” snacks were 80% Gemini’s personal favorites? Phuwin didn’t think so.
Clue #2: The Pizza Toppings.
The great pizza debate was a weekly battle.Phuwin and Pond stood firm on the sanctity of Hawaiian pizza. Gemini, a purist, demanded pepperoni and olives. Fourth, who Phuwin knew for a fact found olives “slimy” and preferred Hawaiian, would always, without fail, pipe up with, “I’m with Gem. Pepperoni and olives sounds good.” He would then proceed to meticulously pick the olives off his own slices and give them to Gemini, who accepted them with the reverence of someone receiving a sacred offering.
Clue #3: The Restaurant Veto.
Whenever Fourth treated them to a meal to celebrate an exam going well or just because,they invariably ended up at Gemini’s favorite places. The spicy noodle shop that made Pond sweat, the Korean BBQ joint where Gemini delighted in grilling the meat for everyone, the dessert cafe that sold the specific type of mango sticky rice Gemini claimed was “superior.” Fourth never complained. He’d just smile and say, “I’m easy! Whatever Gem wants.”
But here was the problem with Phuwin’s detective work: none of this was conclusive proof of romantic feeling. Fourth didn’t look at Gemini with smoldering intensity or breathless wonder. He looked at him with… a profound, gentle fondness. He adored Gemini, the same way everyone eventually did once they got past his occasional brattiness. Because Gemini, for all his protestations against the word, was cute. He had endearing traits—the way he’d pout when he lost a game, his big, brown doe eyes when he was genuinely focused, the little happy wiggle he did when he got his way. It was entirely possible Fourth’s behavior was just that of a supremely good, incredibly attentive best friend who enjoyed making his cute friend happy.
The case felt frustratingly cold. That is, until one Friday night.
Phuwin was lacing up his shoes by the door when Gemini wandered into the living room, looking like a lost puppy.
"Where are you going?" Gemini asked, his voice a little too casual.
"Out drinking with Fot and some of the guys from class," Phuwin replied, not looking up.
He didn't need to see it; he could feel it. The air in the room shifted. He glanced up and there it was: The Pout. It was a masterpiece of silent, sibling-level guilt-tripping. The full lower lip, the slightly downcast eyes, the whole aura of a kicked golden retriever. It was embarrassing how effective it was.
A lesser man would have ignored it. But Phuwin, in a moment of either brotherly compassion or sheer scientific curiosity, decided to throw his brother a bone. Or, more accurately, throw his brother directly into the den of his own anxiety.
"How about you come with me?" Phuwin said, feigning nonchalance. "I'll need someone to drag me back home anyway."
He watched the internal calculation on Gemini’s face. If Fourth hadn’t been going, Gemini would have retorted with a sarcastic "Call Pond" or "Get a Uber, you loser." But instead, a spark of hope lit up his eyes, and he tried, poorly, to play it cool.
"Uh, yeah. Sure. I guess. If you need a chaperone," Gemini said, shrugging with a level of forced indifference that was almost artistic. "Let me just... go change. Don't leave without me." He then practically sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
Embarrassing. Truly, profoundly embarrassing.
But as Phuwin waited, scrolling through his phone, he reconsidered the evidence. The snacks, the pizza, the restaurants… they were all things Fourth did for Gemini, accommodations to make him happy. But inviting Gemini tonight? That was Phuwin creating an opportunity. The real test would be how Fourth acted when Gemini was there in a more social, group setting. Would he include him? Would he pay him special attention? Or would Gemini end up a wallflower, nursing a drink and his unrequited crush while Fourth held court with his other friends?
Phuwin sighed. This detective work was more exhausting than he’d anticipated. He was about to become a firsthand witness to either a blossoming romance or a spectacularly awkward evening. For his brother’s sake, he hoped it wasn't the latter. His ribs couldn't take the moping that would follow.
---
Gemini came back downstairs looking unfairly, criminally good. While Phuwin had thrown on a clean-ish band t-shirt and his most comfortable jeans, Gemini had clearly engaged in a full-scale tactical assault on his wardrobe. His hair was artfully tousled, his shirt was a dark, flattering shade that made his skin glow, and he smelled faintly of the expensive cologne he usually reserved for formal events. It was a blatant violation of the unspoken sibling code. Now, Gemini was going to swan into the bar looking like the genetically blessed Titichoenrak heir, while Phuwin looked like his slightly disheveled plus-one. Truly unfair. A direct crime against his self-esteem.
Then again, he reasoned, they were just going to a bar with friends. It wasn't like his crush was going to be there. (He didn't have a crush. He had a wonderful, handsome, and thankfully oblivious boyfriend, in case Pond had suddenly developed telepathic abilities and was monitoring his internal monologue for treason).
They took a taxi, and by the time they got to the bar, everyone was already there, drinks in hand, because someone had taken a small eternity to style his hair and achieve that 'effortlessly perfect' look.
His university friends, most of whom were seeing Gemini for the first time, immediately lit up.
"Wow, Phuwin, you didn't tell us your brother was a model!" one of them, Mix, exclaimed.
"Seriously, is this the better-looking Titichoenrak? Did all the good genes skip a generation?" another, Satang, added with a playful wink.
It was predictable, and it was not fair. Gemini had their mother's elegant bone structure and her large, expressive doe eyes. Phuwin, meanwhile, had... well, he had a face. A perfectly good face! He just hadn't bothered to accessorize it tonight, unlike some people who had clearly prepared for a photoshoot.
But the most fascinating person in the room wasn't his traitorous friends; it was Fourth.
Fourth, who had been holding court in the center of the group, did a subtle but immediate reshuffle the moment Gemini arrived. He moved his chair back, creating a space, and guided Gemini to sit in the newly vacated spot—a spot that just so happened to be between the wall and Fourth himself, effectively cutting Gemini off from the rest of the group. A strategic, almost primal, placement.
Then, as the night progressed and the conversation flowed, Phuwin watched Fourth's body language. He didn't just sit next to Gemini; he curated a space around him. His arm was casually draped over the back of Gemini's chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against his brother's shoulder. It wasn't an overt hug or a grab, but a classic, possessive-protective move that screamed "mine" to anyone with eyes, all while looking completely casual.
The evidence kept mounting.
"Hey, Gemini, are you single?" one of their more forward friends, Prom, asked with a flirty smile.
Before Gemini could even stutter out a response, Fourth cut in, his voice light but firm. "Hey, stop that. Don't make him uncomfortable." He then deftly redirected, "Besides, Prom, aren't you still seeing Ploy from Economics?"
Prom was successfully diverted, but Phuwin stared. Since when did Fourth play bodyguard?
Then came the drink monitoring. Gemini, who was a lightweight and knew it, was sipping slowly on his second glass of beer. When a new round was ordered for the table, a fresh glass was placed in front of him. Without a word, Fourth reached over, took the full glass of beer, and replaced it with his own untouched glass of water.
"Don't drink so much. It's bad for your health," Fourth said softly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Phuwin blinked. Had he entered an alternate dimension? Did Fourth not care about Phuwin's health? This was the same Fourth who had not only allowed but actively cheered him on when Phuwin, on his 20th birthday, attempted to take one tequila shot for every year he'd been alive. Phuwin had famously failed at shot fourteen and had to be carried home by a long-suffering Pond, suffering a hangover of biblical proportions the next day. The point was, Fourth had been a willing accomplice to that disaster. But two glasses of beer for Gemini was a bridge too far? A health crisis in the making?
The cherry on top of this utterly baffling sundae came when they were leaving. Phuwin had only had three—okay, maybe four—beers, and with his high tolerance built from years of university shenanigans, he was perfectly fine.
"I'll drive you guys home," Fourth announced, jingling his car keys. He'd been the designated driver, sticking to soda all night.
"Fourth, I'm fine, seriously," Phuwin started.
"It's no trouble," Fourth said, but his eyes weren't on Phuwin. They were fixed on Gemini, who was looking a little sleepy and rosy-cheeked from his two beers. "Better to be safe."
And in that moment, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place with deafening clarity. The special seating, the bodyguard act, the drink policing, the chauffeuring—it wasn't for "them." It was for him.
Tonight, Phuwin hadn't been his best friend hanging out. He had been background noise. A logistical obstacle between Fourth and his true objective: ensuring Gemini Norawit Titichoenrak was safe, comfortable, and, most importantly, within arm's reach all evening.
As he slid into the backseat of Fourth's car, watching Fourth gently guide Gemini into the passenger seat with a hand on the small of his back, Phuwin finally admitted it to himself. This was no longer a suspicion. This was a confirmed sighting.
Fourth Nattawat Jirochtikul was utterly, completely, and obviously gone for his brother. The only one still oblivious, it seemed, was Gemini himself.
---
The car ride home was a study in quiet intimacy that made Phuwin feel like a voyeur in his own life. From the backseat, he watched Fourth drive with one hand on the wheel, the other casually resting on the center console, inches from Gemini’s knee. The city lights streaked across the windows, painting soft patterns over Gemini’s profile as he leaned his head against the glass, looking content and drowsy. Fourth would glance over every so often, a small, private smile playing on his lips before returning his eyes to the road.
Phuwin felt a complicated cocktail of emotions. There was the ever-present layer of brotherly exasperation, a thick slice of secondhand embarrassment, but now, a new ingredient had been added: reluctant validation. He wasn't crazy. His observations weren't just the paranoid projections of an overly analytical older brother. Fourth’s behavior was a billboard, and the message was clear.
When Fourth pulled up to their house, he killed the engine and immediately turned to Gemini. "You good to get inside?"
Gemini, who had scaled the summit of a two-beer buzz, nodded, his eyes heavy-lidded. "Mhm. Thanks for the ride, Fot."
"Anytime," Fourth said, his voice soft. He made no move to get out, his gaze lingering on Gemini as he fumbled for the door handle.
Phuwin, already standing on the pavement, cleared his throat loudly. "Well, come on, Sleeping Beauty. Don't make me carry you."
That spurred Gemini into action. He mumbled a final goodbye and stumbled out of the car. Fourth watched him until he was safely at the front door, then gave Phuwin a little wave before driving off.
Inside, Gemini collapsed onto the living room couch with a dreamy sigh. "He's so nice."
Phuwin stared down at his brother, the human embodiment of a heart-eye emoji. "Nice," he repeated, deadpan. "Yes. That's the word for it."
"He was just... really looking out for me tonight," Gemini continued, oblivious to Phuwin's tone.
"Uh-huh. Like a mother hawk looks out for a single, particularly helpless chick." Phuwin grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and tossed it to him. "Hydrate. I'm not dealing with your whining tomorrow."
The next morning, Phuwin was nursing a mild headache (those four beers had been stronger than he’d thought) when his phone buzzed. It was a group chat with Fourth and Pond.
Fourth: @Phuwin how’s the head? lol
Fourth:And how’s Gem? He seemed pretty out of it last night.
Phuwin rolled his eyes so hard he saw his own brain. He was in the group chat too, and Fourth was still singling out Gemini.
Phuwin: I’m fine, thanks for your concern. Gemini is currently consuming his body weight in pancakes. He’ll live.
Pond: 🤔 Sounds like someone’s jealous he’s not the center of attention anymore.
Phuwin: Shut up, Pond.
Fourth: Glad he’s okay! Tell him I said hi.
Phuwin was about to throw his phone across the room when an idea, both brilliant and petty, struck him. If Fourth wanted to play the concerned, caring friend, Phuwin would give him an opportunity.
He walked back into the kitchen, where Gemini was indeed demolishing a stack of pancakes.
"Fourth just texted," Phuwin announced casually. "He asked how you were. Sounded really worried."
Gemini froze, a syrup-laden piece of pancake halfway to his mouth. "He did?"
"Yep. In the group chat and everything." Phuwin leaned against the counter. "You should text him back. Personally. Tell him you survived the great beer catastrophe of last night."
A faint blush crept up Gemini’s neck. "I... I don't want to bother him."
"It's not a bother. He's clearly invested in your well-being," Phuwin said, the words dripping with sarcasm that flew entirely over his brother's head. "Just do it. Be polite."
Under Phuwin’s watchful eye, Gemini picked up his phone, his thumbs hovering nervously over the screen. He typed, deleted, and typed again before finally settling on a message.
Gemini: Hey Fot. Thanks for driving us last night. I’m alive. Pancakes helped.
The response was almost instantaneous. Phuwin didn't even need to see the screen; he could tell by the way Gemini’s entire posture straightened, and a goofy, helpless smile spread across his face.
Fourth: 🥞👍 Glad to hear it! Next time, I’m cutting you off after one. 😤
Gemini let out a breathy laugh, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed a reply.
Phuwin turned away, a strange sense of accomplishment warring with his nausea. He had successfully facilitated contact. He was, against his will, becoming a wingman. It was undignified.
Later, when Pond came over, Phuwin recounted the entire saga—the car ride, the texting, the pancake-fueled bliss.
Pond listened, amused. "So, you've accepted it then? That this is happening?"
"I haven't accepted anything," Phuwin grumbled, sinking onto the couch beside him. "I'm just... curating the evidence. It's like watching a nature documentary. 'Observe the male of the species in his elaborate courtship ritual, which involves the strategic replacement of alcoholic beverages with water.'"
Pond laughed, pulling him close. "You're a softie. You want him to be happy."
"I want him to stop being so pathetic," Phuwin corrected, though the protest was weak. He rested his head on Pond’s shoulder, sighing. "But... if he has to be pathetic, I suppose it's better he's pathetic with someone who looks at him like Fourth does."
It was the closest he would come to admission. For now, his role was clear: the grumpy, observant narrator to this unfolding romantic comedy. And if that role occasionally involved strategically prompting his brother to send a text, then so be it. He just hoped the payoff would be worth all the secondhand embarrassment.
---
It was embarrassing enough to know and see his brother’s crush on his best friend. But now, armed with the undeniable evidence from the bar night, it was absolute torture to witness his best friend's crush on his brother. It was a two-way street of pathetic pining, and Phuwin was trapped in the middle, a grumpy traffic cone in the path of their merging lanes.
When they weren't "fighting"—which was just a flimsy excuse for flirting and physical contact—they were all disgustingly, nauseatingly soft with each other. The voices they used were a crime against Phuwin’s eardrums. With everyone else, Fourth’s voice was normal—loud, cheerful, sometimes a little rough. With Gemini, it dropped into a register that was so warm, so gentle, it was like auditory honey. Ugh, it was horrible.
Phuwin knew Fourth had the mouth of a drunken sailor when he was with the guys or when he was pissed off. But with Gemini, his vocabulary underwent a purification process. He used polite and strangely intimate honorifics, a mix of "khun" and "ter" that felt both respectful and tender, creating a bubble of ‘us’ that excluded everyone else.
And the most baffling part was when Gemini, inevitably, managed to genuinely piss Fourth off. It was a rare occurrence, but it happened. With Phuwin or any other friend, Fourth’s reaction would be immediate and physical—a playful shove, a headlock, a threat to crack a rib. With Gemini, it was like watching a diplomat negotiate a peace treaty.
Fourth would visibly collect himself. He’d take a slow breath, his jaw would unclench, and he would turn to Gemini with that infuriatingly polite, soft tone.
"Gem," he’d begin, "can we talk for a second? What you said/did earlier… it hurt my feelings a little. I don’t really appreciate that."
And Gemini, the master manipulator, would instantly deploy his ultimate weapon: the Sad Doe Eyes. His big, brown eyes would go wide and shimmer with genuine remorse, his bottom lip trembling just so. "I'm sorry, Fot. I didn't mean to."
And just like that, Fourth would melt. His stern expression would dissolve into pure concern. "No, no, it's okay. I'm not angry with you. I just wanted you to understand."
It was horrible. Phuwin was an unwilling observer to this psychological warfare masquerading as conflict resolution.
"For someone who is 'unwilling,' you sure do observe them a lot," Pond had remarked one evening, not looking up from his phone as Phuwin ranted for the tenth time about the "Great Chocolate Milk Debate" he’d just witnessed, which ended with Fourth apologizing for finishing the carton and promising to buy Gemini two more.
"Shut up!" Phuwin had replied, because that was absolutely not the point.
The point was the blatant, glaring, soul-crushing unfairness of it all. The point was that when Gemini did something to annoy Fourth, the outcome was a heartfelt talk followed by a trip for gelato. When Phuwin did something to annoy Fourth—like using his favorite shampoo or beating him at a video game—the outcome was a wrestling match that left Phuwin with a new bruise and a wounded ego.
Woe was him. He lived a truly tragic and unfair life.
"You make your life sound like a soap opera," Pond said, finally setting his phone down. "But we both know the truth. You're secretly shipping them."
"Shut up, Pond!" Phuwin grumbled, his face heating up. "I am not 'shipping' anyone. I'm a victim of secondhand embarrassment and preferential treatment."
Pond just smiled that knowing, infuriatingly handsome smile of his and slid a tub of Phuwin’s favorite ice cream across the table. "Sure. A victim. That's why you gave Fourth that 'look' when Gemini said he was cold earlier, prompting Fourth to immediately offer his hoodie."
Phuwin stared at the ice cream, then at his boyfriend. He had, in fact, done that. It had been a reflex, an almost imperceptible eyebrow raise in Fourth’s direction when he saw Gemini shiver. And it had worked with terrifying efficiency.
He snatched the ice cream and took a large, defensive spoonful. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he muttered around the mouthful of chocolate and vanilla.
But as he ate the ice cream—the ice cream that Pond, the love of his life, had bought him without being asked—Phuwin had to admit a very small, very secret, very horrifying truth to himself.
Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't just an observer.
Maybe he was starting to become a fan.
---
This was too much now. No, seriously. Hear him out.
Phuwin—the person, the pioneer, the literal bridge that connected their social circles—was being systematically and ruthlessly excluded from his own life. The Gemini-and-Fourth bubble had not only formed; it had solidified into an impenetrable fortress, and he was left outside, knocking on the drawbridge with a single, sad pizza.
It started with the movies. The new John Wick-esque action thriller that Phuwin had been hyping about for weeks, dissecting every trailer with Pond and Fourth, finally hit the theaters. He’d been waiting for the weekend to see it with everyone. Then, he saw the Instagram story: a blurry, happy selfie of Gemini and Fourth in a cinema, captioned "Movie night! 🍿". They had gone to see his movie. Without him. Pond, sensing his impending meltdown, had surprised him with tickets for that weekend, and it had been fun, but that was not the point.
The point was the betrayal.
Then, one Thursday evening, Gemini floated through the front door looking infuriatingly pleased with himself. Phuwin, sprawled on the couch, had offered, "The 'rents are gone. Wanna order pizza?"
Gemini waved a dismissive hand. "No, thanks. I'm stuffed. Fourth took me out for sushi."
Phuwin sat up. Sushi. The spicy tuna rolls, the salmon nigiri, the unagi—his absolute favorite. "Sushi?" he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. "You went for sushi. And where was my invite?"
Gemini had the decency to look slightly sheepish. "Oh, was it your cheat day? Sorry, it was kind of a last-minute thing."
A last-minute thing that happened to exclude the one person who would have sold a kidney for good sushi.
The final, most egregious straw came at Christmas. Phuwin, like the good, considerate older brother he was, waited for Gemini to go gift shopping together, a tradition they’d had since they were teenagers. He texted him on December 23rd.
Phuwin: Hey, gift shopping tomorrow? We can hit the mall early.
Gemini: Oh, no need! Already done. Fourth took me shopping for Christmas gifts last weekend.
Phuwin stared at his phone, a cold realization washing over him. Fourth had taken him gift shopping. This went to show you that one shouldn't be considerate to little brothers. They will replace you with a handsome, attentive, sushi-buying mixed martial artist.
He stormed into the living room, where Pond was calmly wrapping presents. "He went Christmas shopping with Fourth!" Phuwin announced, as if reporting a capital crime.
Pond didn't look up from the ribbon he was tying. "You do know that they're dating, right?"
The world screeched to a halt. "What?" Phuwin’s voice was a whisper. "Since when?"
Pond just shrugged, finally meeting his eyes with a look of profound amusement. "I don't know. A while? It's been pretty obvious."
Obvious. Obvious. Phuwin’s mind raced, replaying every soft look, every shared gelato, every possessive arm draped over a chair. Had it all been leading to this? Was he the last to know?
The question was answered in the most visceral way possible the following Sunday morning.
Phuwin, sleep-deprived and in desperate need of coffee, shuffled into the kitchen. To his surprise, Fourth was there, rummaging through their fridge. He was wearing yesterday's clothes and his hair was adorably messy.
"Morning," Fourth said, his voice raspy with sleep.
"Did you sleep in the guest room?" Phuwin asked, too tired for tact.
"Uh, no. Gem's room," Fourth replied casually, pulling out a carton of orange juice.
Just then, Gemini stumbled out of his bedroom, yawning. He was wearing only a pair of low-slung pajama pants, and his hair was a disaster. And there, on the side of his neck, just above his collarbone, was a mark. A dark, purplish-red, unmistakable hickey.
Phuwin’s brain short-circuited. His eyes darted from the hickey, to Gemini’s sleepy, unselfconscious face, to Fourth, who was now looking at Gemini with a mixture of pride and tenderness that made Phuwin feel like he was intruding on something profoundly private.
"What... unspeakable things," Phuwin breathed out, his voice trembling with a mixture of horror and awe, "are you two up to?"
Gemini’s hand flew to his neck, his eyes widening in panic. Fourth just chuckled, not even trying to deny it. He walked over to Gemini, handed him the juice, and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his temple.
"Good morning," Fourth murmured, his voice so full of affection it was practically a physical entity.
Gemini blushed, the hickey standing out in stark contrast to his reddening skin. "Morning, Fot."
Phuwin stood there, a forgotten man in his own kitchen, witnessing the undeniable, irrefutable, and slightly obscene proof. There was no more speculation. No more theories. His little brother and his best friend were not just dating.
They were, by all evidence, thoroughly and completely together. And he, Phuwin, had been the last to get the memo.
---
Phuwin blinked, and blinked again. The image of his little brother sporting a passion mark, standing half-naked in their kitchen while his best friend—boyfriend?—casually groped his waist, was going to be seared into his retinas forever. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but no sound emerged. His brain was a buffering symbol.
"So... Fot and I are sort of a thing," Gemini spoke first, his voice tight with nervousness, breaking the stunned silence.
"Sort of a thing?" Fourth echoed, his voice a low, amused rumble. His hand on Gemini's very bare waist squeezed gently, possessively. "That's what we're calling it?"
"Okay, fine!" Gemini relented, a blush exploding across his cheeks. "Fot is my boyfriend." He then braced himself, eyes wide with apprehension. "Don't freak out."
But Phuwin wasn't freaking out. Not in the way Gemini expected. As the initial shockwave passed, a brilliant, glorious dawn of realization broke over him. This was... fantastic news.
Well, except for the fact that he now had a front-row seat to a nauseating, real-life romance starring his brother. But the benefits! Oh, the benefits were immense.
Fourth was a people-pleaser, a golden retriever in human form. That meant that when Fourth came over for family dinners—which would now be all the time—he would inevitably, out of ingrained politeness and a desire to impress, end up doing the dishes. And because Gemini was utterly gone for Fourth, he would naturally help him. Phuwin would never have to scrub another pot or pan again. It was a domestic miracle.
And the Christmas presents! Fourth always gave good gifts, but a Christmas present one gave to their best friend—who they occasionally bullied—was fundamentally different from the Christmas present one gave to their boyfriend's older brother, whose approval they desperately wanted to win. Phuwin could already envision the upgraded video games, the premium concert tickets, the high-end tech gadgets. This was the best news ever.
And on a more sincere, less mercenary level, Fourth was honestly such a great guy. He was kind, loyal, and strong enough to keep Gemini in check. This was infinitely better than Gemini dating some random arsehole Phuwin would have to intimidate—or, more precisely, have Pond intimidate, since the arsehole would probably be bigger than him.
But that didn't mean Phuwin was going to let them have it easy. He couldn’t let this monumental shift in the universe occur without some form of tribute. He crossed his arms over his chest, carefully schooling his features into a mask of stern neutrality.
"How long has this been going on?" Phuwin asked, deploying his best 'Disapproving Older Brother' voice.
But just then, his beautiful, handsome boyfriend came trotting into the kitchen. Pond’s pajama pants were hanging low on his hips, and his sleep-mussed hair and bare chest were so distracting that Phuwin almost forgot his own name, let alone his line of questioning.
Pond yawned, stretching languidly before getting himself a glass of water. He took a long sip, completely oblivious to—or more likely, utterly unfazed by—the tense tableau before him.
"Don't give them a hard time, Phu," Pond said, his voice rough with sleep. He leaned against the counter, a picture of casual grace. "I already told you they were dating."
All eyes turned to Pond. Gemini’s jaw dropped. Fourth looked equal parts surprised and impressed.
"You knew?" Gemini squeaked.
Pond shrugged. "It was obvious. To everyone except your brother, apparently." He gave Phuwin a fond, sleepy smile. "Just be happy for them so we can all have coffee."
Phuwin deflated. His moment of power, his chance to extract promises of future dish-washing and lavish gifts, had been utterly undercut by his own perceptive boyfriend. He looked at Gemini and Fourth, who were now looking at him with hopeful, tentative smiles.
He sighed, the long-suffering sound now a permanent part of his personality. He uncrossed his arms.
"Fine," he grumbled. "But if I walk in on anything worse than a hickey, I'm charging you both rent. And Fourth," he added, pointing a finger, "you're on permanent dish duty."
Fourth’s face broke into a brilliant, relieved grin. "Yes, phi! Absolutely. Thank you!"
Gemini beamed, looking like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thanks, P'Win!"
As they all shuffled around the kitchen to finally make coffee, Phuwin caught Pond's eye. Pond winked. And Phuwin, despite himself, felt a real, genuine smile tug at his own lips. His little brother was happy. His best friend was happy. And he never had to do the dishes again.
Maybe, just maybe, this new era wouldn't be so bad after all.
---
Oh, he had been so wrong. So, so naively wrong. This new era of "official boyfriends" was a thousand times worse than the pining era. It was the pining era, but with a license to be nauseatingly, unabashedly in love.
If Gemini playing the damsel in distress to get his crush to notice him was annoying, now he was just hopeless, and his boyfriend—Phuwin’s best friend, by the way—was his chief enabler and indulgent partner-in-crime.
One of the foundational pillars of Phuwin’s relationship with his brother was their bickering. It was a sacred sibling ritual, a way to communicate. He got into fights with Gemini because Gemini was a brat. It was a universal truth. But now, the very fabric of that dynamic was under attack.
Just the other day, Phuwin had snatched the last spring roll from under Gemini’s nose—a time-honored tradition—and Gemini had let out a theatrical gasp.
"Hey! I was going to eat that!" Gemini whined.
"You were looking at it for five minutes. Possession is nine-tenths of the law," Phuwin retorted, poised for the classic Gemini counter-attack—a playful shove or a grab for his wrist.
But instead, Fourth materialized, as he always did now, like Gemini’s personal, over-attentive guardian angel. He wrapped an arm around Gemini’s shoulders and fixed Phuwin with a look of gentle reproach.
"Don't be so hard on him, Phi," Fourth said, his voice dripping with faux reasonableness. "He's sensitive."
Phuwin blinked in pure, unadulterated betrayal. Sensitive? This was the same person whose knee had made intimate and violent acquaintance with Phuwin’s ribcage on multiple occasions. The human weapon who had once put Pond in a submission hold over a disputed goal in a friendly football match. Fourth, who had witnessed at least half of these incidents, was now calling the MMA black belt sensitive. And Gemini, the traitor, had the audacity to bury his face in Fourth’s shoulder, his body shaking with silent laughter he tried to disguise as hurt feelings.
If the snack-buying before was a subtle hint, it was now a blatant declaration of war. Before, Fourth would buy snacks "for everyone" that were 80% Gemini’s favorites. Now, as the official boyfriend, he saw no need for the charade. The grocery bag would contain: Gemini’s weird seaweed chips, Gemini’s overly sweet milk candy, Gemini’s "refreshing" weird soda, and a single, sad bag of plain potato chips tossed in as an apparent afterthought for the rest of the household.
"Why did you only buy these?" Phuwin would grumble, holding up the bag of seaweed that smelled like low tide. "They're horrible."
"Gem prefers those," Fourth would reply, completely unrepentant, as he handed Gemini the specific brand of iced tea he liked. The rest of them could apparently wither away from malnutrition and lack of acceptable snack foods.
But.
And this was a very, very secret 'but' that Phuwin would never, ever admit out loud, not even under torture.
It wasn't all horrible.
Phuwin, even if he wouldn't say it in a million years, loved his brother. And his brother was incandescently, stupidly happy. The dopey smiles were permanent, the anxious edge he sometimes carried was gone, replaced by a quiet, settled joy. And Phuwin loved Fourth like a brother, too. To see his best friend, usually the one taking care of everyone else, being so openly cherished and adored by someone… it was good. It was really good.
So, all in all, in the quiet of his own heart, he knew it wasn't that bad. The world was, in fact, spinning correctly on its axis.
But that didn't mean Phuwin was going to stop complaining. A man had to have principles.
"Of course not," Pond said later that evening, easily reading the familiar grumble on Phuwin's face. He pulled him onto the couch and kissed his temple, a perfect, grounding weight. "Complaining about them is your new favorite hobby. It's how you show you care."
Phuwin huffed, but leaned into the touch, letting his head rest on Pond’s shoulder. He could hear Gemini and Fourth laughing in the kitchen, probably over something ridiculously unfunny. The sound was annoyingly happy.
"Someone has to hold them accountable for their crimes against my sanity," Phuwin muttered, closing his eyes.
Pond just chuckled, his chest rumbling against Phuwin's side. "And no one is more qualified for the job."
And as he sat there, listening to the sounds of his brother and his best friend building a life together in the next room, safe in the arms of his own love, Phuwin had to admit—though only to himself—that some tyrannies were worth enduring.