Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sound could feel Win’s eyes on him from across the room. 

His piercing glare was almost electric, sending a jolt through Sound’s entire body that he tried his hardest to ignore. The scene he was acting out was not one that required the tension he felt curling in his chest when Win’s eyes fell upon him from his seat beside the director. No, he had to disregard his personal feelings for the sake of the quiet hopefulness his character was meant to portray. 

“Lava, are you busy?,” he asked into the prop phone, an easy smile curling about his lips as he paused for the supposed response. Ten seconds, they’d said. Ten seconds of silence as he held that fond smile, delight practically pouring out of his eyes from hearing the voice of the person he adored on the other end. 

Currently, there was no voice to speak of. The editors would later intersperse this scene with a similar one depicting the other side of the conversation. 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” His smile waned slightly, his eyes dulling their shine, but he kept his voice cheerful and even. Wave didn’t want Lava to know that the raincheck had disappointed him. “Maybe next week?,” he asked, with a tint of hopefulness that almost came across as desperate. Wave was always toeing that invisible line between yearning and desperation. He’d basically built a home for himself on that fine line. 

Hardly any acting skills were needed for Sound to depict such longing, however intense it may be. All he had to do was think of Win to nail his pining expression as the phone call ended with another failed attempt at securing Lava’s attention. He let out a heavy sigh as he looked off to the side, resigned to his fate of another lonely night. 

“And, cut! Great job, Sound,” Tiw praised as he stood from his director’s chair. 

He could feel the exact moment Win’s eyes left him, in search of something more interesting to focus on. His phone, perhaps. Or maybe he’d turned his gaze to the ground, because he believed looking at anything else was better than seeing Sound’s face for a few more seconds. 

Sound wasn’t sure, because he didn’t turn to look. As desperate as Wave might be, Sound didn’t want to give off that same desperation. Even though he felt the loss of Win’s attention like he’d lost something important. The weight of Win’s gaze was always heavy, like a weighted blanket that kept him anchored to the Earth. So when it abandoned him, he was left feeling… empty. Like a broken mold that had run its course, and nobody found a use for anymore. One second away from getting tossed in the garbage, then carried to the curb just in time for trash day. 

He was pathetic. 

Unfortunately, the only time he held Win’s attention was when he was in front of the cameras. And even then, Win looked at him with a begrudging interest. Because he had to. Because it was part of his job to study Sound and his character, to accurately depict their on-screen relationship. 

Their off-screen relationship had always been… tumultuous. 

Win had been in the same acting class as him, back when they were both just starting their professional careers. He was energetic and eager, fresh out of college. He seemed happy to get to know the other aspiring actors in the room. Sound’s first impression of him was that he must think life was sunshine and rainbows. The world was his oyster, and all that. 

Sound had more of a jaded personality. He didn’t assume everyone he met was a good person. His trust had to be earned. His loyalty, even more so. And neither were easy to acquire. He only had one meaningful friendship that had lasted since high school, and he hadn’t seen Por in a while. He was used to spending all of his time alone. 

He assumed they wouldn’t get along very well. 

But then, Win had turned to him with a charming smile, with freckles splattered over his cheeks and eyes shining with the light of a thousand suns. “Hi, I’m Win!,” he’d said, and Sound couldn’t remember the last time someone sounded so happy to speak to him. As Win started an animated conversation with him, using his hands to make gestures to articulate his point, he started to think maybe he would enjoy acting classes more than he thought. 

But things quickly went south after that. Their conversations somehow always devolved into arguments. Sound didn’t mean for it to happen. It was just that his suggestions for how to improve certain scenes Win acted in came out harsher than he intended. Win took his criticisms personally, which put him on the defense. And once Win was in a snappy mood, Sound couldn’t back down and try to play nice. His ego wouldn’t survive the hit if he ran away with his tail tucked between his legs.

And so, he escalated. They both did. Until they were having a whole shouting match, and the acting coach had to step in and separate them. But somehow, when he was arguing with Win, he felt more alive than ever. Maybe because having Win’s eyes on him had always lit a fire in his soul, even back then. Maybe the heat that rose to his ears was part frustration and part… something else that he couldn’t identify at first. But once he could, once he’d sat with the idea long enough to roll it around in his mind and put a name to it, he realized. 

He had a soft spot for Win. And no amount of Win picking fights with him for months on end would put a damper on that. He admired Win’s passion for his craft. Win knew exactly how he wanted his emotions to come across in his scenes. That was why he was so stubborn in his own interpretations, and he hated it when Sound tried to offer pointers. 

But Sound wasn’t trying to tear Win down. If anything, he wanted to help build him up. He wanted to see what Win would be capable of if he overcame his shortcomings and got rid of the blocks in his head that didn’t allow him to adapt to criticism. 

That was how Sound slowly, but surely, fell in love with Win. 

Acting classes were twice a week. Each class was three hours long. And those two days became the highlight of his week. He’d look forward to every class, because he knew he’d get to see Win’s acting. He’d get to talk to him, even if his version of talking was wearing a conceited grin and taking jabs at Win’s technique. Anything to get those blazing eyes to focus on him. 

Once Win already made up his mind about Sound, that he was an arrogant narcissist who only wanted things to go his way, it was easy to adopt that persona. He played along, antagonizing Win whenever he could. It was like he was putting on an act, just for Win. It was his greatest acting performance to date.

And he must’ve been a damn good actor, because here they were five years later, and Win still believed that Sound hated him. He played his part a little too well.

He let Win believe that. It was easier than setting the truth free. It was much better if Win saw them as enemies. At least then, Sound’s dignity remained intact. He didn’t know what he’d do if Win found out that Sound’s heart beat faster around him for very different reasons. Reasons that he couldn’t even explain himself. Even when Win was berating him, accusing him of thinking he was better than anyone else, his feelings never waned. That was how he knew they were genuine. 

Sound had never been the type to enjoy cheesy romance. It was just like him to fall for someone who hated his guts, and would sooner punch him in the mouth than kiss him. 

Win never smiled at him since their first meeting. That single memory was the only thing Sound had to cling to when his heart ached in his chest at night. The soft, delicate curve of Win’s lips was burned into his brain. He could see it even as he stared up at his ceiling in the darkness. It was his one solace in this cruel reality where he would always be the villain in Win’s life. Because playing the bad guy was better than not being acknowledged at all. If only he could capture Win’s essence in a jar to keep him company on his lonely nights, he’d probably sleep a lot easier. 

It didn’t help that they always seemed to compete over roles. It wasn’t intentional. Not on Sound’s part, at least. He didn’t go around auditioning for roles he thought Win might want. It just so happened that he’d landed several jobs that Win also applied for, and Win stopped seeing it as an accident. Or maybe he never did in the first place. Naturally, in his world, that meant Sound must’ve used some super secret insider connections to find out that Win was auditioning for those roles, and he snatched the opportunities right from under him. 

It didn’t matter that Win also got a handful of roles that Sound had auditioned for, and Sound never said one word about it. Win wouldn’t take that into account when considering how Sound was definitely trying to steal his spotlight. He always seemed to think Sound had it out for him. 

Which was what made this most recent project the hardest thing Sound ever had to film. 

By some twist of fate, they were casted as love interests in an upcoming movie. Something about their “electric chemistry,” as the press called it, although Sound had always seen it as more of a one-sided hatred. On Win’s part, of course. It was pretty pathetic to be obsessed with someone who clearly despised him, but what could he do? He’d be an idiot to turn down the opportunity to work on this film, which was projected to become a best-seller. The most he could hope for was that his feelings wouldn’t spill out of his chest during filming. He’d held onto them for this long, so he was confident in his ability to keep up the ruse. 

Despite their apparent complicated relationship, Sound was still excited to spend any time with Win that he could. Call him extremely desperate, or an opportunist. Because the second he received the call from his manager, Yo, informing him that Win would be his costar, he almost ran in circles around his living room. But he didn’t, because he still maintained some of his dignity. Just a tiny shred. Enough for him to calmly confirm that he still wanted the role and hang up the phone.

And then he did a few celebratory laps around his living room, with only his own shadow as his audience. After years of dancing around Win, he’d finally get to see his acting in person again. He couldn’t be blamed for getting worked up. 

There was just one thing that dulled his excitement. 

He wasn’t the only love interest in the movie. It was a love triangle, with Win’s character at the center of it. Which meant he had to watch Win fawn over another guy right in front of him. 

It didn’t help that this other love interest was played by Gun, a well-established actor who had a massive fanbase. Sound and Win had a good amount of projects under their belts. But Gun was the most famous person who would be on set. 

Working side-by-side with Gun would surely advance Win’s career, and how could Sound compete with that? Knowing that Win would be trying his hardest to get on Gun’s good side put a damper on his spirit. Not to mention, Sound couldn’t stand Gun’s manager. Tinn was always hovering around the set, trying to control anything and everything, tweaking things as he saw fit. There was only room for one control freak on this set, and Sound had already taken that spot. 

He didn’t know which was worse between Tinn’s clinginess to his employer and the carefree way Gun carried himself, like life came so easily to him. Like this acting thing was a piece of cake, and having everyone’s adoring eyes on him was just another Tuesday. 

It didn’t matter, anyways. Even if Gun wasn’t some master charmer with a personable nature and inherent likeability, Win still wouldn’t look twice at Sound. That much was proven when Win immediately got up from his seat once Sound’s solo scene was finished and they were told to take a break. He didn’t stick around to make conversation with Sound. Instead, he crossed the room to where Gun was standing. Sound hated to admit that they kind of looked good together. 

It was stupid. They were all coworkers. And yet, he couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that went through his chest whenever Win smiled at Gun, flashing those eager eyes at him that Sound wished would land on him instead. They got along so well, laughing and making conversation like they’d known each other for years.

Sound was the one who’d actually known Win for years. Why did Win never look at him like that? Like Sound was the answer to every question in his mind, the concluding paragraph to the essay of Win’s existence? Why couldn’t Win see him the way he saw Win? 

He supposed it was his own fault for hiding his emotions so well. He was punished for being too good of an actor. 

He shook himself out of his daze. He was a professional. He just had to push his feelings aside and act like watching Gun and Win joke around with each other didn’t feel like he was getting stabbed a million times in the heart with the painful truth.

He could do this. 

He couldn’t do this.

Jealousy reared its ugly head every time he had to watch a scene Gun and Win were in together. It didn’t matter what they were doing. It could be a simple conversation between their characters, and Sound would still find some way to get worked up about it.  

Each time Gun and Win were in front of the cameras, he had to stop himself from walking off and passing the time in his dressing room. That would be rude. And nobody wanted to employ an actor who couldn’t put their ego aside for two minutes and accept that they couldn’t be the center of attention every second of every day. Which was what Sound would look like if he stomped off like a petulant child. 

It wasn’t like he had anything better to do, since his schedule had been completely cleared for filming. This gig was a big deal for him, so he should act like it. And so, he forced himself to watch, his eyes glued to the sight of Win’s smile as he took on his Lava persona. He stared at Win’s lips a little too closely than could be considered normal. He was able to read Win’s lips without even processing the words that were coming out of his mouth. 

This is nice, Lava said, his eyes alight with wonder. We should do this again sometime. 

The sharp pain he felt in his chest was exactly how he’d imagined Wave would feel, if he had seen that scene. Maybe he was more into character than he thought. He’d been method acting as Wave, even before the character existed. He may as well be the most dedicated actor in the world. 

If only he was as dedicated to his job as he was to Win. 

Thankfully, the next scene was between Lava and Wave. Finally, Sound could stop being a bystander. The only thing that could take his mind off his jealousy was acting with Win. Because that was the only time Win would look him in the eyes for more than two seconds at a time. He was always excited when they had a scene together. Even though he was sure Win didn’t share his excitement. 

Their next scene took place in Wave’s house. The set was dressed up to look like a cozy living room. Sound tried to forget all about Gun as he got into character, immersing himself in the universe Wave lived in. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?,” Win asked, with a sweet smile that he’d never aim towards Sound if they weren’t being recorded. 

“I have a bad feeling about Natee,” he said numbly. He wasn’t sure if his acting was very convincing when he was too busy counting the stars in Win’s eyes and taking note of his breathing pattern. Win was such a diligent actor that even the way he breathed was slightly different when he was in character. Lava was, by nature, a very extroverted person. He didn’t care about how much space he took up. He wasn’t ashamed to take huge gulps of air, sucking up all the oxygen in the room like it belonged to him. Like every molecule had his name written across it, and nobody would ever argue or try to steal his air.  

Win raised an eyebrow, his lips quirked in amusement. His face was much more expressive when he was acting as Lava. He had his character down perfectly. “Would this bad feeling have anything to do with how he’s taking up so much of my time lately?”

Sound offered a non-committal shrug. “You could say that.” 

Win’s fingers rose, brushing through Sound’s hair. His breath caught in his throat. This was the first time Win was touching him in a friendly way. When they had acting workshops for this film, Win insisted that they didn’t need to practice touching and kissing. He said he didn’t want to do those things with Sound any more times than he absolutely had to. Their workshops were therefore confined to practicing lines and getting the emotions down. 

Admittedly, Win’s rejection had stung at the time. But now, Sound knew that Win wasn’t exaggerating when he said that he would be able to perform convincingly when the time came. The proof came in the form of his softened eyes, his honey-sweet voice, and his delicate fingers when they caressed Sound’s hair. 

Sound only wished he could say the same for himself. He melted into the touch, but not as Wave. As Sound. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and he could only hope that his Wave mask didn’t break in any ways that were obvious to others. 

When Win spoke, his tone was full of warmth and so much adoration that Sound could hardly stand it. “I told you. There’s nothing going on between me and Natee. He’s just… a friend.” 

“Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you.” 

“And what about the way you look at me?,” Win asked, his sneaky fingers trailing along Sound’s neck in a flirty fashion. He leaned in closer, his voice lowered to a whisper as his half-lidded eyes glinted from the studio lights. “Do you think friends look at each other like that?” 

Their filming schedule was out of order, as was the nature of production. They had to use certain sets before they could change them for other pivotal scenes. By the time this scene rolled around in the actual film, Lava had already experienced a short, secret romance with Natee. But he’d come to the conclusion that things wouldn’t work out between them. Natee was a famous musician, married to his job, and he wasn’t able to dedicate himself to a relationship.  

And who was the person who always gave him the diligent care and attention he needed? Who else but Wave, his childhood friend? The person who was always there for him when he was at his lowest. Who knew him inside and out and would never hesitate to drop everything to be by his side. 

Indeed, Lava was starting to wonder if Wave’s affection for him ran deeper than friendship. And his suspicions were correct. Which was what led to this critical turning point in the story. With the Natee flame already stamped out, his heart was open to the possibility of accepting Wave into it.

Sound stood a little closer than he was directed to. He couldn’t help himself. They were like two planets stuck in each other’s orbit. He was drawn to Win with some kind of gravitational pull, a magnetic connection that he didn’t have the words to describe. He’d rather not even try to name it. If he put a label on it, it would only hurt more when reality came crashing down around him. 

All he knew was, all coherent thoughts flew out of his brain the moment Win looked at him with those soft, gentle eyes, so unlike the sharp glares he usually sent Sound’s way. Win was so deep into character that he was able to push his personal dislike for Sound to the back of his mind and play nice for the sake of the scene.

Why, then, could Sound not do the same? No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his heart from racing. He could smell Win’s cologne. It was shockingly sweet, floral and aromatic. What shocked him even more was that he liked it. But maybe that was just because he liked everything associated with Win, even though he shouldn’t. Maybe that forbidden nature was part of the appeal. 

Seeing Win from up close had his heart going crazy. His throat closed up, and he could barely force his words out. At least, the scratchiness of his voice could be attributed to Wave being overcome with emotion. “I’ve never seen you as just a friend.”

Either Sound’s imagination was running wild, or Win really was a good enough actor to force his cheeks to pinken from the confession. Win didn’t even know that Sound’s words rang true to real life. That was what made the ache feel so real when he said the words out loud, and they weren’t met with a harsh glare and rejection, as they would in reality. 

Instead, Win gripped at his shoulders to keep him close. Win’s eyelashes fluttered shut, the signal that Wave should go in for a kiss. This was a huge moment between their characters. It was a turning point for their relationship, as it shifted from long-time friends into something more romantic and sensual. Something soft and sweet that was an extension of the bond they’d cultivated for a long time. 

But Sound could hardly focus on the story he was supposed to be acting out when the blush spreading across his cheeks was very real. And so was his pulse that was hammering against his chest, his blood rushing in his ears to block out all sound. 

He leaned closer. Their noses bumped together. Win was way too close. He felt a sting of guilt. Once he knew Win would be acting in this film, he should’ve given up his role. He knew from the beginning that he’d have to kiss Win. And he’d have to pretend like that simple act didn’t open a forbidden box in his chest that he’d tried so hard to keep locked shut. He knew that when he kissed Win, there would be feelings lingering on his side. Ulterior motives. He wanted to know what Win’s lips felt like. Was that so wrong? God, he really should’ve just given up the role and moved on, so he wouldn’t have to feel like this. 

But Win had also known that Sound would be acting alongside him. And he didn’t give up the role, either. 

That thought didn’t help calm his racing heart as he closed the distance between them. His entire body tensed when their lips met. It was like all of his common sense flooded out of his body, replaced with static and white noise buzzing through his brain. All he managed was a tiny peck. It lasted less than a second. But it shifted Sound’s entire world on its axis in ways Win could never know. 

Back when the full extent of Win that he saw was those twice-a-week acting classes, he never would’ve imagined that one day he’d get to kiss those lips he dreamed about. It was surreal. It was too much to process. The warmth he felt against his mouth, however brief, had already burrowed its way into his brain. He’d be thinking about it that night as he tried to sleep, and every night afterwards, he was sure of it.

When he pulled away, Win was giving him that familiar irritated look. He knew the kiss was supposed to be passionate. And it was certainly supposed to last longer than a second. But he’d frozen up and he couldn’t perform in the face of his overwhelming emotions. 

It was embarrassing. He looked like an amateur actor. He could feel the stares from the entire staff, especially Tinn’s. He just knew Tinn was cackling to himself in his head, My actor is better than you!

“Cut!,” Tiw shouted as he came forward. “That was, uh… that was certainly something.” 

Sound cringed at the uncertainty in his voice. Clearly, Sound’s acting had been terrible, and he didn’t want to say that outright. But that was because Sound wasn’t really acting, and had gotten into his own head instead of his character’s. His acting was usually great, which was why he’d landed this role in the first place. Tiw’s confusion was warranted. 

“It was really good,” Tiw placated. “The buildup was great. Win, you were amazing. But when it came to the kiss…,” he trailed off, unsure how to word it without being offensive. “Let’s just say, it left a lot to be desired.” 

“I’m sorry,” Sound said, his ears burning hot in shame. He had to choke the word out. 

Yo rushed forward. As Sound’s manager, it was kind of his job to make sure his conversations with Tiw went over smoothly. He was like a buffer, of sorts. But Yo was a skittish guy. He managed a shaky, apologetic smile towards Tiw. “Sound is a little sick today. But he knows this is a huge moment for the characters. Is it okay if we try again, from the top?” 

Sound was most definitely not sick, but leave it to Yo to find a way to excuse his incompetence and clean up his messes.

And so, they repeated the scene. But it went in much the same way. Everything was fine, until they got to that dreaded kiss. Sound was at least able to press his lips against Win’s for a few more seconds this time. Win had even attempted to kiss back, to encourage him to get into the scene. But Win moving his lips had spooked him into breaking the kiss. 

Tiw intervened again. He scratched his head, puzzled. “We need you two sell the chemistry between the characters, or this project is doomed.” 

A huge bout of guilt twisted in Sound’s gut. He didn’t want to ruin everyone’s hard work on this production because of his inability to put aside his feelings for Win. He was supposed to be a professional, damn it. It was just that his brain always seemed to get scrambled when Win was close to him, and his words never seemed to come out right. 

A flustered Sound didn’t turn coy and giggly, as most people would. Instead, when he was feeling shy, he’d turn volatile. He’d act out to prevent anyone from seeing his soft insides. And that was affecting his work now, so he had to figure out a way around it. 

He was pathetic. And Win was glaring at him now. Somehow, he’d fucked things up even worse.

They wrapped filming early for the day. Sound was instructed to take a rest and come back the next day with a clear head. But he couldn’t allow himself to rest, because as soon as Tiw left, he felt someone grab onto his wrist. It was Win. He was so shocked by the touch that he allowed Win to drag him along without complaint. They ended up in Win’s dressing room. 

Win dropped his wrist as soon as the door was shut. “What the fuck was that, Sound?” 

“I…,” he tried to think of excuses, but any intelligent words had flown out of his brain the moment Win touched him. He’d allowed himself to get tugged around by Win, like he was a dog on a leash. 

Win held a hand up. “You know what, nevermind. I don’t want to hear any excuses. Let’s just run through our lines and try again.”

“You want to practice the scene. Alone?” That went directly against what Win had said before about not wanting to touch or kiss Sound more than he strictly had to. 

Win looked at him like he’d said the stupidest thing ever. “Yeah? It’s called team building.”

“What team is made of two people?” 

Win huffed. “Listen, I know you like getting the last word, but can you put your ego aside until we’re finished filming? We don’t even have to get along. We just have to act like we do. Which shouldn’t be hard, considering we’re actors.”

Sound shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear put-together and not at all shaken up about being alone with Win. In a place where nobody would interrupt them. A place where they could kiss a hundred times, and nobody would ever have to know. “Right.”

“Fantastic input.” Win rolled his eyes. “We just have to be able to kiss each other and make eyes at each other, like people in the movies.” 

“And you think that will be easy?”

Win shrugged. “It will take some work, but we have to do it. Unless we want to get fired for being bad at our job.” 

He was right. If Sound didn’t find some way to get a handle on his feelings, their performance would tank. “Okay. Let’s try.” 

“Remember. You’re Wave.” 

Win waited for him to nod in understanding, then snapped into character like it was nothing. It was admirable, how easily acting came to Win. He was born to act. He deserved to have his career catapulted by this film. Sound didn’t want to mess that up for him. 

“What did you want to talk to me about?,” Win asked, with a gentle smile that only a professional actor could slip on when looking at someone he detested. He had to convince the audience that he enjoyed Sound’s company. 

Well, not Sound’s company. Wave’s. But just for a second, he could’ve convinced himself that the soft look in Win’s eyes was reserved for him. That Win would actually give him a crumb of attention past their senseless bickering.

That is, until the softness disappeared in an instant, those round eyes sharpening in a way that pierced into Sound’s chest. “Did you forget your line or what?” 

He’d been standing there staring like an idiot instead of acting. “Just give me a second.” He took a deep breath to steady his emotions. He was still coming across as unprofessional. If he was in Win’s shoes, he’d definitely judge him for being bad at his job. 

Win shoved his copy of the script into Sound’s hand. Sound took it, even though he had the lines memorized by heart. He looked down at the page, scanning his eyes over it, pretending to retain any information. 

“I have a bad feeling about Natee.”

“Would this bad feeling have anything to do with how he’s taking up so much of my time lately?”

“You could say that.” 

The scene progressed, just as it had before. Win’s moves were choreographed, rehearsed to perfection, and yet they came across as fluid and spontaneous. He brushed his fingers against Sound’s hair. 

“I told you. There’s nothing going on between me and Natee. He’s just… a friend.” 

“Friends don’t look at each other the way he looks at you.” 

“And what about the way you look at me?,” Win asked, touching along his neck again. “Do you think friends look at each other like that?” 

“I’ve never seen you as just a friend.” It was easy to say those words to Win when he really meant them. He hardly had to use any acting skills at all. But it still felt like he was tearing his chest open and letting Win watch as his heart beat steadily for him. 

He was supposed to stop talking there. He was supposed to watch as Win’s eyes closed, and his lips pursed out, preparing for a kiss. But as Win leaned closer, he was pulled under the dark pools of Win’s sparkling eyes that held a promise of something more. A spark of hope, a twinkle of feelings that belonged to Lava, but he could imagine belonging to Win, too.

Win didn’t close his eyes like he was supposed to. They were both going off-script, it would seem. Because Win’s free hand landed on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze. And he actually looked… gentle, for a second. Every feature on his face was softened. He wondered if he was looking at Win or Lava in that moment. 

“You’re tense,” Win said, running his thumb along Sound’s neck. Sound swallowed around nothing. “Relax, Sound. I’m not going to eat you, I promise. It’s just a kiss.”

Just a kiss, he said, like it was that easy. Because for him, it would be. Just a meaningless brush of lips between coworkers that he never had to think about again. He could kiss Sound a million times and he would be unbothered each time. His heart wasn’t in it. His actions didn’t belong to him, but to Lava.

But Sound would lay awake for hours, staring at his ceiling, replaying the kiss in his mind. It didn’t matter that Lava and Wave weren’t them. He’d still raise his fingers to his lips, tracing over them, chasing the memory. The ghost of Win’s lips against his would haunt him in ways Win could never understand. 

But as he looked into Win’s eyes, which seemed so open and honest, so gentle and coaxing, trying to get a good performance out of him, he… broke. It was like a switch had been flipped, opening up the lock on his heart that had been slowly deteriorating over time. 

The truth came pouring out of his mouth before he could stop it. “I just want you to choose me. Is that too much to ask?” He raised a hand to cup Win’s cheek. It was warm. He’d always wanted to touch Win’s freckles. “What does he have that I don’t? I’ve wanted you to be mine, since I first laid eyes on you.” 

His heart was in his throat as he waited for Win to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Sound was laying out his bare, honest self, right in front of him. Win could judge him, laugh at him, mock him for falling too deep for someone who never looked at him twice. Whatever he did, Sound hoped he did it soon. Because the suffocating silence that fell between them was too much for his heart to bear.

Win did neither of those things. Instead, he pulled away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “That’s not in the script. Did they give you new lines?”

He could feel his defenses snapping back into place in real time. He looked down, dejected. He couldn’t expect Win to understand his feelings when he was still running with his misguided ideal that Sound saw him as a rival. And Sound wanted things to stay that way. He’d just experienced a moment of weakness. “I got carried away by the moment,” he muttered. 

“What moment?” 

“Forget it.”

Win gave him an odd look, then shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s just get to the kiss.” 

Win got back into position, with one hand on Sound’s neck and the other on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, leaning in for the kiss, and Sound couldn’t help but notice how pretty he looked when his puffy lips were pouted out. He was close enough that Sound wanted to count his freckles and make constellations out of them. 

He saw Win’s eyebrows screw together, probably wondering if Sound was ever going to buck up and kiss him. He took that as his sign to close the distance between them and press their lips together. 

Win’s lips were warm and soft. The first touch sent panic rushing to every part of Sound’s body. He was actually kissing Win. He could hardly believe it, despite it being in the script. 

He was able to move his lips against Win’s. A little. Win kissed him back, trying to coax more passion out of him, but Sound couldn’t give much more than that. He was tightly holding himself back, worried about losing control of himself and kissing the daylights out of Win in a way that would expose his deepest secret. The tiny Sound in his brain was yelling at him to grab Win and kiss him hard, until he was breathless, to claim his lips so that nobody else could have them. 

But those lips weren’t his to claim. That was why he had to rein himself in. 

This kiss was… better, at least. Certainly not great. But pretty much anything would be better than the chaste peck he’d given Win in front of the cameras. 

Still, it wasn’t nearly good enough. Sound was thinking too much, and he wasn’t allowing himself to actually let go and kiss Win. Wave wouldn’t hesitate. Not after waiting for this long. He wouldn’t awkwardly move his lips in small motions as he stood there stiffly, leaving Lava to question if Wave was just the worst kisser on planet Earth. 

When the kiss ended, Win didn’t look pleased. He quickly detached himself from Sound, like he was disgusted to have been that close to him in the first place. “I’m trying hard to get you absorbed into the scene, but that’s not part of my job. You can’t even set aside your hatred to kiss me? What kind of an actor are you?” 

Sound looked down, feeling like a dog receiving a scolding from its owner. 

“That’s not it. I’m just feeling… off today. And I never said I hated you.” His voice was weak, lacking conviction. All of his coherent thoughts left his brain the moment Win’s lips were against his. It didn’t even matter that the kiss wasn’t stellar. He’d still dream about it. He’d still think about Win’s lips whenever he closed his eyes. 

“You didn’t have to say it. You know what I think? You want to see me fail so bad, that you’d even sabotage our film to ruin my career.”

Sound balled his hands into fists. Unfortunately, one of those hands was still holding his script, which crumpled in his fist. “I don’t want you to fail. I want you to stop clinging to Gun like a needy puppy,” he snapped, some of the fight returning to him in the face of Win’s anger. This was why it was dangerous to have them side by side. No matter what Sound did, they’d always end up arguing by the end of it. 

The worst part was, Sound never meant any of his biting remarks. But Win meant his. He held full conviction in his eyes when he snorted, “So you can have Gun’s attention all for yourself? You want me to step out of the way so your career can get boosted while mine stays where it is?”

He grinded his teeth. Win would never know that Sound secretly followed all of his work. He watched all the films he played in. He’d always been supporting him from the sidelines. 

He could explain. He could allow himself to be vulnerable, showing the sensitive insides of his heart, so that Win would understand that he never meant any harm. But that would put him in the perfect position to get stuck by Win’s thorns. To get played like the grand piano that was at the corner of the set. The one that sat in Wave’s house and served as his reprieve when he was overwhelmed by the world. 

If only Sound could find that same solace in it. There was no corner of this set that made him feel welcome. Not when everywhere he looked, he was reminded that Win would rather be talking to anyone else but him. 

“How stupid are you?,” he sneered, instead of trying to reason with Win. When two fireworks met, there was no use trying to use reason. They could only communicate in shouts and bouts of electricity that threatened to burn them both to a crisp. In the end, only one of them would survive, with the other ending up as nothing more than a pile of ash. 

Sound knew that the chances of him being the survivor were slim. It was more likely that he’d be turned to soot under Win’s haughty gaze. 

“Stupid enough to try to get along with your petty ass,” Win shot back, not stepping down. “I even tried to help you act better, since clearly you fucking suck. That’ll teach me to do charity work.” 

Sound was seething now. He should’ve known better than to let his vulnerabilities show, even for a moment. Even though Win didn’t understand that those words were from his heart, not Wave’s. He should’ve known that Win would dig his fingers into any cracks he showed in his armor, breaking it apart completely until his chest ripped open to show his broken heart. 

“Fuck you. Go make out with Gun for all I care!,” he shouted, not even caring how obvious he was being about his petty jealousy. Win wouldn’t understand, anyways. He’d never seen Sound as anything more than a pain in his ass. 

“Maybe I will!” 

He threw open the door and stomped out before things could get even more heated. He didn’t stop until he was tucked away in his own dressing room. That couldn’t have gone any worse. 

He knew they were too incompatible. Two fiery personalities put together only caused an explosion that would wipe everyone away, leaving only debris and broken dreams in the aftermath. They’d sooner burn up the entire surface of the Earth than team up to save the world. They were puzzle pieces that belonged on opposite ends of the puzzle. The same poles of a magnet that repelled each other, so much that they’d crash against everything in their quest to separate.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t force them to fit together. He was stupid to ever be excited to film with Win. He knew it would only end in heartache.

Sound was pretty sure it wasn’t standard practice to be forced to go on a date with his coworker. And yet, when Yo sat him down a few days later and nervously told him that he’d be going on a “friendly outing” with Win to “foster a positive work environment,” there was nothing he could say to reject the idea. 

Apparently, it was baked into his contract with the film production company that he would take any means necessary to ensure he could get along with his coworkers. And they’d already wasted enough production time on shoddy takes that lacked the passion their characters were supposed to bring to the table. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if they’d added that in simply because they foresaw possible issues between Sound and Win. Either way, it seemed like the whole thing was already decided for him. There went his one day off.

He felt like they were dolls being shoved together by some omnipotent god. Some benevolent force that was smashing their faces together, urging them to just kiss already! And make it good! 

He had to drive all the way to Win’s place to pick him up because Win refused to use his motorbike. “I’m not wasting my mileage on this,” he’d said over the phone, and Sound could hear the eyeroll in his voice. He resisted the urge to throw a scalding remark back at him, while at the same time marveling at the fact that he had Win’s number now. And it was all thanks to this stupid plan to make them get along. 

If he saved Win’s contact name with a little star next to it, nobody had to know but him. He couldn’t get the image of Win’s starry-eyes when they were about to kiss out of his mind. 

When Win opened his door, the first thing he did was look Sound up and down with a smirk. “You clean up good, Sound Saran. You know this isn’t a date, right?” 

Sound could feel his ears going red. As much as the compliment was backhanded, it was still a compliment, and that was enough to fluster him. Admittedly, he did dress well for this outing. But he always did that when he left the house. It was just that Win was used to his more modest Wave wardrobe. In his free time, he was able to style himself with layers of clothes, small silver hoop earrings and silver rings to match. 

He was very particular about the placement of his rings. Left middle finger and thumb. Right pointer finger and ring finger. They were metal bands, cold to the touch. He rubbed his right thumb against one of them when he needed to calm down. 

There was nothing he could do about his nails, though. He preferred having them painted, but Wave wasn’t someone who would do that, so they were currently bare. At least until filming ended. Erasing his identity to embody his character was part of his job.

“Shut up. Who would go on a date with you?,” he scoffed, then turned back to his car without checking to see if Win followed him.

Unfortunately, Win did follow. It would be a whole lot easier if Win refused to do this. But then again, he had it on good authority that Win had tried to argue against this, quite extensively, but there was nothing he could do when it was written into his contract. Even Kajorn, Win’s very competent manager, couldn’t find any loopholes to get them out of it. 

The entire outing was already planned for them. It just so happened that Tiw had recommended a restaurant Sound knew very well. “Recommended” was putting it lightly, according to what Yo told him. Apparently, in Tiw’s conversation with Yo and Kajorn, he’d all but implied that if this dinner didn’t work some serious magic, they’d all be in big trouble. 

Thankfully, Win was quiet during the drive. Sound didn’t want to have an argument that would cause him to weave into oncoming traffic. 

Once they reached the restaurant, Sound gave the waiter his name and they were led to a table. They settled into their seats. It was an expensive place, so there was live music in the form of a one-man show. The performer was playing his guitar while singing in a low voice. The music was quiet enough to not disturb conversation. 

But there was no conversation to be disturbed, anyways, because they hadn’t said a word since they sat down. 

Sound’s hands were on his knees. Being alone with Win was bound to make him nervous. He couldn’t even meet Win’s eyes. Not that Win seemed all that interested in looking at him, either. Without noticing, his leg had started to bounce under the table. He had all the anxious energy bounding through his body to thank for that. 

“Can you stop doing that?,” Win griped. “Your bouncing is shaking the whole table.”

Begrudgingly, he obeyed. Only because he didn’t want to listen to Win’s loud-mouthed complaints. He was pretty sure the entire restaurant heard his nagging. 

They managed to order their dinner with minimal issues. The worst that happened was Win rolling his eyes when Sound chose a dish that he probably labeled as pretentious. Sound figured that, since he wasn’t paying for this excursion, he may as well eat something extra nice. It was coming out of Tiw’s pocket. That was the one condition Kajorn had managed to set in place. The fact that Tiw agreed just showed how badly he wanted this movie to succeed. 

Win pulled something out of his pocket. Sound stifled a laugh. It was the stack of cards with conversation starters on them that they were forced to bring. So lame.

“Are you actually going to use those?,” Sound asked, flabbergasted. 

Win simply shrugged, like nothing mattered to him at all. Like sitting across from Sound was the most boring thing to happen to him all week. “We’re here already. We may as well try, don’t you think?” 

Win set the cards on the table and took the top one off the stack. “If you were an animal, what animal would you be?” 

“What kind of a question is that?” 

Win tossed the card onto the table. “Just answer it.” 

“I don’t know. A cat?” 

Win snorted. “That fits. A prissy control freak like you, who thinks he’s on top of the world, is definitely like a cat.” 

Sound was offended on behalf of the entire feline species. He wouldn’t stand for this cat slander. “I’ll have you know, cats can be very affectionate. You just have to respect their boundaries and they’ll come to you when they want attention.”

Win quirked an eyebrow. “Is that how you are, too?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Win was giving him a smug look, like he’d figured something out about him, and he didn’t like it. He finally had Win’s attention on him, but the knowing glint in his eyes was almost patronizing.

As usual, his reaction to being flustered was to act out. “You would be a big, stupid dog that tramples over everything in its way.”

But Win didn’t rise to the bait and snap back at him. Instead, he gave a sarcastic laugh. “When have I ever trampled over anything?” 

He didn’t respond. Because the obvious answer was that Win had trampled all over his heart. He’d knocked over Sound’s carefully-crafted defenses like they were nothing. And the worst part was, he didn’t even know what he’d done to Sound. 

Win studied him for a few seconds that felt like hours. “I wouldn’t entirely disagree, though. I can probably bite like a dog, too. Is that why you called me a puppy the other day?” 

He could feel his ears going red again. Somehow, this whole conversation felt like a game of strategy. And he was the losing opponent. “I called you that because you’re always hanging off Gun like a puppy waiting at the door for his owner to come home.” 

He expected Win to tense in his seat, throw him a glare and hit him back with something equally as grating. Instead, Win smirked. Like his insults were water off a duck’s back. And that was worse, somehow. It was like no matter what Sound did, he’d never be worthy of Win’s emotions, whether they were positive or negative. He could only drag out apathy and a general dislike from him. 

“I wouldn’t expect the likes of you to understand friendship. You’re always sulking alone in the corner like a brooding villain,” Win said.

“That’s not true.”

“Yo doesn’t count,” Win countered smugly, correctly guessing his argument. “He’s literally paid to be beside you.” Win gestured with his eyes towards the stack of cards, apparently ending this line of conversation. 

Sound felt very dismissed. And offended. And annoyed. And yet, he grabbed a card and read it aloud. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple.” 

Sound already knew that. He knew a little too much about Win. More than he should. 

He knew that Win’s ears were pierced, even though he’d never seen him wearing earrings. He must save that for his leisure time, of which he clearly didn’t count this excursion into. Of course, this was all business to him. 

He knew that Win’s eyes softened when he talked about his family. Not that he’d ever talked to Sound about that. But Sound had heard some things when Win was engaged in conversations with other people from their acting class. He wasn’t eavesdropping. Win just severely underestimated how much his voice carried. It drifted all the way across the room and landed right in Sound’s ears. And he’d never forget the sound of Win’s voice. 

He knew that Win’s favorite sweater was a light purple one with a picture of Patrick on it. At least, that was the case when Win would often wear it to acting class. Sound had no idea if he even had that sweater anymore. 

Purple was an oddly fitting color for Win. It represented creativity and power. He could say that Win was a very creative person. And when it came to their dynamic, Win was the one who had all the power, even when he didn’t know it. Purple designated royalty, and the way Win turned heads, he may as well be a prince. It also signified ambition, of which Win had plenty. 

In fact, Sound had several purple accents scattered around his apartment. A lavender couch cushion that looked extremely out of place on his black leather couch. A plum-colored mug that he drank his coffee out of in the mornings. A single purple lamp that he kept on his bedside table. 

He allowed himself these tiny reminders of Win in his safe space. He’d caress them with his fingers and imagine Win’s smile when he saw the perfect shade of purple. They were the only splashes of color in his otherwise black-and-white themed apartment. 

A sudden noise made him jump. Win had banged on the table. “Hello? You’re spacing out. Will you tell me your favorite color already?” 

He swallowed thickly. He had to be more careful about getting lost in his lovesick daydreams when Win was right in front of him. “Yellow.”

Win snorted, amused. “That’s surprisingly bright for someone like you.” 

That was exactly why he liked the color. It represented everything he wasn’t. Sunshine. Optimism. Hopefulness. It was bright and lively and cheerful, all qualities that he definitively lacked. One might think the color would be his least favorite, as it was so different from his temperament. Instead, he drew inspiration from it. He wondered what made the color invoke such a positive reaction in others. Maybe, subconsciously, he wished that he could have that same effect on people.  

Win picked another card. “Is a hamburger a sandwich?” He snickered. “What a dumb question. Obviously, it is.” 

“Wait, are you serious? A hamburger is definitely not a sandwich.”

Win gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s got bread and meat, what else does it need?” 

Sound shook his head. “Hamburgers don’t meet the sandwich requirements. That’s ridiculous. It has buns and vegetables on it.”

Win threw the card at him. But he didn’t look angry, so it seemed more like a playful gesture than anything else. “Who made you the sandwich expert? Should I call you the sandwich king from now on?” 

Sound rolled his eyes and picked up the next card. “If you had to be an inanimate object for a day, what would you be?” He slammed the card back down on the table. “Seriously, who wrote these questions?” 

“Probably Tiw,” Win said. Then, bizarrely, he actually seemed to consider the question. “I’d say a TV. That’s basically what we are as actors, right? A big screen for people to look at. Something that soaks up all the attention in the room.” Win’s lips spread into a cheeky grin. “I’ve always wanted to be the center of attention.”

He was surprised to receive a genuine answer to such an outlandish question. “That doesn’t shock me at all. That’s why you’re always making a scene.” 

“And are my scenes enough to draw your attention, Sound Saran?” 

Hearing his full name spoken from those sly lips sent a shock through his body. If he wasn’t mistaken, he’d take that remark as flirtatious. But that was ridiculous. 

Sound cleared his throat, suddenly feeling nervous again. “I’m sure you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Win’s eyes held a secretive shine in them as he tilted his head. “What about you? It’s your turn to answer.” 

Sound pondered on the question. What inanimate object would he be? All that came to mind was wholly inappropriate responses like “the mirror you use when you get ready in the morning, so I could admire your face for as long as possible without drawing suspicion” or “your mattress, so that I could soak in the warmth of your body as you peacefully slept, undisturbed by the chaos of the outside world, because that’s the closest I’d ever get to hugging you.” Either of those answers was a one-way ticket to getting a restraining order put on him and probably losing his job at the same time. 

“I guess I’d be… a house.” 

Win stared at him with an unreadable expression. “An entire house?” 

“Well, yeah,” he rushed to explain, even though he was sure that made him look pathetic. “A house is something everyone wants. People come home at the end of the day to relax. It’s a safe space.” He stopped himself before he could admit that the concept of a warm, happy home was foreign to him. All he had was his small, dusty apartment that he should’ve moved out of ages ago. He’d started renting it before his career took off. Back when all he had was his auditions and a dream. 

He could afford to move out now. But he still hadn’t. Maybe he didn’t see the point in uprooting himself just to find somewhere that had more space that he wouldn’t even use. Or maybe he didn’t think he deserved something grander than the minuscule living situation he’d been saddled with. 

But he didn’t have to say it. Win read it on his face, or his eyes, or maybe in the way his mouth was set in a thin line. A secret understanding passed between them that unnerved him. He didn’t want Win to see what was behind the curtain. He didn’t want Win to know that he wasn’t the stereotypical arrogant, hateful actor who put himself on a pedestal above everyone else that Win had always written him off as. 

“Are you lonely?” 

Win didn’t even frame it as an insult. It was a genuine question. And that only made it worse. Because Win wasn’t supposed to read him like a book, wasn’t supposed to know him from cover to cover and back to front and side to side. He wasn’t supposed to know that Sound’s insecurity masqueraded as arrogance. He was supposed to keep on assuming the worst of Sound, to misattribute his flustered, panicked responses as personal attacks against him. It was easier to keep Win away when he thought Sound wasn’t worth his time. 

He tried to form words, but he felt his throat closing up around them. He didn’t want to say too much. He didn’t want to expose all of his secrets in front of Win’s all-knowing gaze. 

“I’m not lonely,” he said, with no conviction. He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. 

But Win didn’t call him out on it. He simply gave a confusing half-smile and reached out for the next card. Win snorted, then turned the card around so that Sound could read it, too. But Sound was more interested in the way the card was pinched between Win’s thumb and index finger. He could imagine what those fingers would look like interlaced with his. “What’s keeping you busy this week? I suppose we both have the same answer for that one,” Win said. 

Win placed the card back on the table, and Sound tried hard not to stare at his fingers as he did so. “Filming this movie has been taking up all of our time. I’ve barely gotten any sleep in three weeks.”

Sound could identify with that. Whatever sleep he did manage to grab was in between fitful dreams that were only retained in his memory as flashes of images as he tossed and turned all night. Win’s eyes as he glared as Sound from the corner of the room. Win’s shoulder as it bumped against his when they passed each other in the hallway, in some misguided attempt to intimidate him. 

Then there were the images that were entirely the product of his imagination. Win’s lips curling into a loving smile. His eyes dripping honey and sugar as his gaze fell upon Sound. The tickle of Win’s breath against the back of his neck as he held dream-Sound in a back hug. And, more recently, the gentle press of Win’s lips against his. Those short kisses they shared, however fumbly and inexperienced they seemed, became a staple in his dreams. 

But he couldn’t say any of that. So he simply offered a sardonic smile and agreed, “Yeah. Filming is tiring as hell.” 

He rushed to grab another card, eager to change the subject. “What was your dream career when you were growing up?” 

Win ran his teeth over his bottom lip, like he was determining just how honest he should be. He scanned his eyes over Sound’s face and, whatever he saw there seemed to give him the answer he sought. “I didn’t always want to be an actor. I took this job to support my family. Owning a garage doesn’t always pay the bills.” 

“What did you want to do, then?,” he asked with genuine curiosity. 

Win studied him, probably trying to determine if he was really interested. Then, a certain nostalgia overtook his eyes. “I wanted to be in a band.” 

“A band?” Sound laughed incredulously before he could stop himself. 

“Why are you laughing at me? Bands are cool,” Win huffed. 

“No, it’s just… I wanted to be in a band, too. I was in one in high school.”

Win was pleasantly surprised, his lips quirking up slightly in the corners. “Me too. I guess we have more in common than we thought.” 

That was the closest he’d ever gotten to coaxing a smile out of Win. He wanted to keep this conversation going. He wanted to extend the duration of that smile, so it could keep him company in his dreams. 

Luckily, Win seemed to have the same idea, for he continued. “What did you play? I played bass.”

“I played guitar.”

“Cool. Did you have a stage name?” For the first time, Win actually seemed interested in what he had to say. His eyes were shining as he leaned slightly forwards in his chair, engrossed in the conversation. Who would’ve thought those lame cards would actually get them talking civilly? 

“Yeah. It was SoundAbout. How about you?” 

Win gave a sheepish grin. “That’s cooler than mine. It was WinnieThePooh.”

Sound didn’t bother to stifle his laugh this time. He allowed it to bubble out of his chest, born from the giddiness of finally having a good conversation with Win. “That’s cute.” 

Win’s grin settled into something softer. Something comfortable. “Can you still play?,” he asked, with that quiet curiosity still alight in his eyes.

Sound was ashamed to admit that he couldn’t even remember the last time he picked up his trusty guitar. It was packed in its case, safely tucked away in a corner of his closet that he never touched, collecting dust. He’d tried to keep playing after he graduated, but life kept getting in the way. Besides, with his band formally disbanded, he no longer had an audience to perform for. A singer was nothing without his audience. 

“I don’t know. I haven’t in a while.” 

Mercifully, the server came to deliver their food, so he didn’t have to explain any further. Win looked like he wanted to ask more questions, to dig into Sound’s past, and he didn’t have any easy answers. 

They managed to maintain a level of politeness as they ate. The tense atmosphere that usually lingered between them had thinned out, allowing space for casual conversation. They discussed the long hours of filming, how the script allowed for just a bit of improv in some scenes, and how their managers had been on their asses about making this project work out. Apparently, they had that in common, too. But that was to be expected. A movie of this caliber would do wonders for both of their careers. 

He wondered what Tiw saw in them to make them the endgame in the love triangle. If he just wanted to showcase their explosive chemistry, then Sound could’ve been casted as Natee and had his fling romance on the big screen. But no. He must’ve seen something deeper in them, something that made them worthy of playing the endgame characters in his film. 

He just hoped he could bring justice to Tiw’s vision. He didn’t want his feelings to screw things up for everybody. 

“Sound!,” a familiar voice called his name, drawing his attention away from Win. Sound tried to sink further into his seat to hide himself, but it was too late. Por had already seen him, and he was headed right for their table. “Sound! Fancy seeing you here! You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

He guessed something like this might happen, but he was holding out hope that Por would be too busy notice him. “It was kind of an impromptu thing,” he gave his weak excuse before turning back to Win. “Win, this is Por. He owns this restaurant. And… he’s a member of my old band.”

Win’s eyes lit up. “You were in Sound’s band? What was his playing like?” 

He was stunned that Win’s first instinct was to be curious about him. But this was exactly why he didn’t want Por to show up. He didn’t need Win to have any connections to his past. Plus, Por had plenty of embarrassing stories about him that he’d rather Win not catch wind of. 

Por’s gaze slid over to Sound, and he already knew he was going to regret this conversation. Sound threw him a threatening look, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Why doesn’t he show you? Our singer is taking a break right now. The stage is open!” 

He tried to deny the invitation, but it was to no avail. Por insisted, and Win’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. He gave in faster than he would’ve liked. 

When he was sitting on a stool on the small stage, he felt like he was transported to the past. The borrowed guitar was heavy in his hands. He wasn’t used to the weight anymore. Still, he propped the guitar up on his lap and started playing the first song that came to his mind. 

It was a song he wrote after the band had already split up. Back when he was still juggling performing with taking acting classes. When he first gained feelings for Win, all those years ago. How many years had he been harboring his helpless one-sided crush? He wished he wasn’t acutely aware of the answer. It had been five long, painful years, filled with loneliness and soaked in sadness. 

Surprisingly, he found that his fingers automatically knew how to play the correct chords. Muscle memory served him well. He could only hope that his vocal cords did the same. 

“If not me, can you think of anyone else who would love you…” 

He couldn’t help but stare at Win as he sang. He tried to look elsewhere. But there was a magnetic pull that kept drawing his gaze right to the object of his affection, and he was too weak to fight it.

“No one else would know you like I do…”

Win was looking at him like he was seeing him for the first time. It made him feel giddy, butterflies incessantly batting their wings in his stomach as his fingers strummed the guitar strings with little input from his brain, like they were born to do so. 

Finally, Win didn’t have hints of annoyance in his eyes when he looked at Sound. He almost looked… relaxed. At peace. While listening to a song that was written about him. Even all this time later, Sound still found the lyrics to ring true. There was no way someone else could love Win the way he did. Because he’d seen Win’s messy parts, his angry outbursts, his frustration when he couldn’t get a scene right. Sound saw all of that, and it only made him more intrigued to dig deep into Win’s psyche. 

He was never afraid of Win’s anger. He rose to the challenge, making himself into a rival that Win could strive to beat. He’d helped Win meet his goals, even if it meant painting himself as Win’s biggest obstacle. Because that was the only way his feelings could be of any assistance to Win. 

He could only tear his gaze away from Win when the song had ended, the last note lingering in the air as the restaurant erupted with applause. Apparently, he’d drawn everyone’s attention with his performance. He hadn’t even noticed anyone else’s eyes on him. Only Win’s. 

When he returned to the table, Por gave him a pat on the back. “You’re just as good as you were back then, SoundAbout.” 

Sound offered a nostalgic smile, tinted in sadness. In the end, their dreams hadn’t worked out. But they found other things to do with their lives. And that was all he could hope for.

Por excused himself with a promise to catch up with Sound another time, leaving him alone with Win again. He was surprised to find that Win was already watching him with a smile on his face. A genuine one. Not a snarky grin, or a sarcastic smirk, but a warm smile that softened his entire face. “That was amazing, Sound.” 

That was the first time Win praised him. His heart stuttered in his chest, heat rising to his cheeks that he hoped Win wouldn’t notice. Win was complimenting him over a song that was written with him in mind. The irony wasn’t lost on him. 

“Thank you,” he said quietly, trying not to be obvious about how much those words meant to him. 

A silence filled the air between them. But it was much more comfortable than any previous bouts of silence they’d experienced. Win was still looking at him. Sound didn’t know what that meant. 

“Sound, can I ask you a question?” 

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you always freeze up when you have to get close to me for a scene? Do you really hate me that much?” 

He should’ve seen that one coming. It was the one question that always burned like an inferno behind Win’s eyes when he looked at Sound. Except for now, that fire had simmered down to a low glow. Embers of something else were alight in Win’s eyes. Something that scared and thrilled Sound all at once. 

His favorite part of acting was temporarily donning a new persona. It made his own life easier to handle when he only had to deal with himself in increments. But at the end of the day, he couldn’t live any of the lives of his characters. He could only go home to his sad little apartment and face the world as the lonely Sound Saran who pined after someone who didn’t even see him as a friend. 

“I never hated you. I can admit that my words don’t come across nicely at times. But I never meant to offend you. Actually, I…,” he hesitated, swallowing around nothing. Win’s eyebrows rose, his eyes twinkling in expectation. Sound let out a long, slow breath. “I actually admire you. You’re a natural at acting. I never would’ve guessed it wasn’t your first career choice.”

Win’s smile didn’t wane. Instead, it grew, spreading across his face in a way that heated Sound up from the inside out. “Well, I appreciate that. I’ve never hated you, either. But that doesn’t tell me why you go stiff when we’re in front of the camera.”

Sound’s eyes dropped to his mostly-empty plate. It was easier to look at that than into Win’s eyes as he spilled his guts. His hands curled into fists from where they rested on his knees, his nails biting little crescents into his palms. “I guess you just make me nervous.”

“What is there to be nervous about?” 

“I always seem to say the wrong thing when you’re around. Then we end up fighting, and nobody wins.” 

Win thought for a moment. His lips twisted to the side as he contemplated his next course of action, and Sound couldn’t help but find him cute. 

“How about we call a truce?,” Win said. 

“A truce?”

Win held his hand out across the table. “Let’s stop fighting for now. Otherwise, we’ll never get this movie done. The sooner we finish filming, the sooner both of us can catch a break.”

He stared at Win’s hand. A little olive branch, a promise of putting their differences aside so they could work together. He could feel Win’s calculating eyes glued to his face, inspecting every part of him, and this was exactly why Win made him so nervous. He saw things Sound didn’t want him to see. He was the only person who could break through Sound’s otherwise impenetrable armor. 

Still, he couldn’t reject his offer. Win was right. They had to get along for the sake of the film. 

Win’s hand was warm when he grabbed it and gave it a shake. “Deal.” 

Twenty minutes later found him dropping Win back off at his place. He almost didn’t want to say goodbye. He felt like he’d gained a deeper understanding of Win. He was more comfortable being in Win’s presence. He didn’t want things to snap back to how they were before. He hoped their truce meant something. 

Seeing Win off at his doorstep like this, it almost felt like a real date. Like it wouldn’t be too crazy to grab Win and give him a little kiss to commemorate the occasion, a promise for a second date. A kiss that lasted longer than a few seconds.

“Should we try to kiss again?,” Win asked, as if he was reading Sound’s mind. 

“What?,” he croaked. The single syllable felt like razor wire digging into his voice box. 

Win looked at him with those piercing eyes again. “The kiss. Should we see if we can do it now?” 

“Oh, uh. Yeah.” 

That was what led to Sound standing stiffly in Win’s living room. Barely any space separated them. He could feel the warmth of Win’s body radiating off him like he was the sun, and Sound was the idiot who was getting too close to it, risking third-degree burns. He could smell his cologne again. He could get addicted to that scent if he wasn’t careful.

Win closed his eyes and when he opened them, they were all sweet again. He donned his loverboy Lava persona like it was a second skin, and he played it so convincingly that Sound could almost believe that loving look was reserved for him. 

Win tucked a lock of Sound’s hair behind his ear, the touch light and feathery. “What is it that you have against Natee? Is it because you don’t want to lose a second of my attention?” Win’s fingers found the small hoop earring on Sound’s left ear. He ran his fingers along it, toying with it, tugging on it slightly. And that only had him more choked up, because Wave didn’t wear earrings. So what possessed Win to do that? 

Sound’s mouth went dry. He swallowed around nothing as he tried to remember his lines. His new ones. The script had undergone a rewrite as Tiw tried to bring out the emotions they needed from the scene, since the original wasn’t cutting it.

“What if I said yes?” 

Win smiled, all pretty and soft, and Sound’s breath was taken away. He rested his hands on Win’s waist, guided by his own greedy instincts. That wasn’t in the updated script. But Win leaned into it anyway, batting those eyelashes at him. “All you have to do is use your words. Admit that you’re jealous, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’m jealous,” he choked out, the words tearing into his throat like a thousand thorns as they left. He was jealous, just like Wave, even though he had no right to be. He’d successfully managed to forget about Gun for the duration of their mockery of a date that he wished could be real. The reminder was unpleasant.

As he thought about the way Win smiled at Gun, his jealousy festered like a wound deep in his chest, pouring blood and seeping with a bone-deep infection that ran through his veins. His unfounded possession only became worse when he had Win so close, so within reach, looking like he wanted nothing more than to be showered with Sound’s affection. “I’m so fucking jealous and I can’t stand seeing you with someone else-” 

Win’s lips smashed against his, cutting off his sentence. He didn’t expect that. Wave was supposed to be the one who kissed Lava. But this felt… better, somehow. It felt right. 

Win’s lips slid perfectly against his, stoking the flames of passion that burned in his gut. His hands were needy, roaming over Sound’s shoulders and trailing over his neck. Occasionally, his fingers found one of Sound’s earrings, intentionally tugging on it to get Sound to groan. Sound was still gripping Win’s waist as he took control of the kiss, tilting his head to deepen the connection. 

He tried to think about what Wave would do. But Wave was the furthest thing from his mind in that moment. All he could think about was Win. The way Win’s breath hitched when Sound deepened the kiss, cradling Win’s bottom lip between both of his. He couldn’t stop moving his mouth, as if he wanted to devour Win. And, to his credit, Win kept up with him. But he never tried to overpower Sound. He allowed himself to be kissed deeply, passionately, accepting every ounce of desire that Sound was pouring into him through their connected lips. 

Win’s hands left burning trails wherever they touched. The soft skin of his waist gave way to Sound’s greedy fingers, like he was always meant to claim it. Every thought had the same conclusion. Every question had the same three-letter answer. Win, Win, Win. 

He’d wanted to properly kiss Win for so long. Maybe this wasn’t how he wished it would go, as he hid his true feelings behind the characters they were meant to play, but it would have to do. 

One of Sound’s hands raised to Win’s cheek. Since Win was touching him however he liked, he took the liberty of doing the same. His thumb rubbed over those freckles, tiny constellations kissing his cheeks that Sound wanted to memorize like the back of his hand. He wondered if Win was too in-character to notice the stark difference between his warm cheek and the cold metal of Sound’s rings as they touched his skin. Those rings were distinctly Sound’s, not Wave’s. 

His hand moved to the back of Win’s head, stroking his hair as he pulled Win impossibly closer. Win gave a little gasp that made him shudder. It was a shame that the gasp also happened to break the kiss. And the spell Sound was under broke along with it. His hands fell away from Win’s body, and they immediately missed the warmth. 

Win’s chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his cheeks a beautiful shade of red that made his freckles stand out more. His eyes were half-lidded, clear of any suspicion or calculation. This was an entirely new look that Win had never aimed at him before. He almost looked a little shy. And Sound was sure he looked much the same. 

After Win caught his breath, he patted his hair back down. Some strands had started to stick up from Sound’s fingers. “I don’t think… our characters are meant to kiss like that.” 

Sound blinked dumbly. He swallowed the spit that had accumulated in his mouth. “Then, how should they kiss?”

Win gave him a slight smile as he rested his hand upon one of Sound’s burning hot cheeks. “Something more gentle. Like this.” 

Win anchored himself with a hand on Sound’s shoulder as he closed the distance. Win was the one who controlled the kiss this time. That was probably why it didn’t get out of control. Sound had allowed his emotions to drive him, taking more than Win was supposed to give under the guise of their much-needed practice. He should really be ashamed of himself. 

But this was different. It was slower, a delicate union that was no less profound. Win’s lips moved against his in small, controlled motions. He still allowed his hands to wander, but in a restrained way. His hands slipped into Sound’s hair rather than roaming over his body. 

It was more gentle. And that was what made it hurt more. Because now he knew that Win could be soft and sweet, docile, melting against his lips and clutching onto his shoulders, desperate for more. And he could also be eager for Sound to deepen the kiss, to tilt his head and kiss him from a new angle, to take everything Sound gave and be happy about it. 

And yet, Win wouldn’t do any of that for Sound. Not in real life. He could only live out his fantasies as far as their characters extended. 

The kiss broke far too soon for his taste. 

“Good. That was good.” Win was bright red, and Sound wondered if he was still in character or not. He wondered if the shine in his eyes and the flush painted across his cheeks belonged to him or Lava. He wondered if the way Win’s fingers were still twisted in his hair was Win’s doing, or Lava’s.

He didn’t think he’d ever receive a clear answer.