Archive of Our Own

It had only been two weeks, which was almost laughable when Est actually let himself think about it because how could something this fragile and this off happen in such a short period of time when nothing between them had ever needed effort before. Two weeks shouldn’t be enough to break something they both took pride in, and especially something that didn’t even have a name yet.

They weren’t even officially anything. They had no labels, just this unspoken understanding that had always worked for them because William made time, he always did and Est had built everything on that without even realizing it, trusting it so blindly that he never thought he’d need to ask for reassurance, never thought he’d need to sit down and have some structured conversation about how do we manage this, because in his head, there was nothing to manage. It was just them. It would adjust on its own like it always had.

Before William left for the world tour, they had one of those quiet late night conversations, where Est was laying on his bed, PB sleeping on his right side. Est was staring at the ceiling, his phone warm against his ear, listening to William breathe on the other side.

Est had said almost casually, “You’re going to be busy,” and William had immediately replied, without hesitation, “Never too busy for you, Phi.” and that had been it. No follow up and no deeper talk. Est had smiled because that was enough for him. That was always enough.

But then the Warsaw Concert happened. At first, it didn’t feel like a problem, just a shift of messages, coming in slower, calls getting shorter, William sounding exhausted in a way Est hadn’t really heard before, like his voice was dragging behind him. “You sound half dead,” Est had joked once, trying to keep it light and William had laughed softly and said, “I kind of am, but I wanted to hear you,” and Est had melted a little at that because even like this, even tired, William was still choosing him. That’s what he told himself.

He noticed the way conversations shrank, how laughter came slower, how William would pause mid sentence like he was trying to stay awake long enough to finish talking. The first few times, it almost felt soft, ‘he’s tired but he still called me.’ That meant something. It meant he cared and Est held onto that because that’s what he always did, held onto the small things and made them enough because they both weren't specifically anything. But the pattern didn’t break. It repeated again and again and again until those small reassurances started feeling like crumbs instead of comfort.

Est hated himself for thinking that way because he knew William’s schedule was insane, knew the rehearsals were draining him, knew the time difference was brutal. He understood everything logically and still something inside him kept whispering that understanding didn’t make the loneliness go away.

And the thing about small changes is that they don’t stay small when they keep happening.

Then Berlin concert happened and unfortunately nothing settled or eased, Est really wished it did because in a way everything was eating him alive but nothing went back to normal like he had expected. Instead, it became a pattern of calls that started with “I have like five minutes,” messages that ended with “I’ll text you later,” replies that came hours after they should have and it wasn’t that William was doing anything wrong, Est knew that, he kept reminding himself that, he understood the schedule, the pressure, the exhaustion but understanding didn’t stop the feeling of being… misplaced.

Like he wasn’t part of William’s day anymore, just something squeezed in between.

He started noticing things he hated noticing. The way William’s tone changed when someone called him in the background. The way conversations felt rushed, like there was always somewhere else William needed to be. The way Est found himself staring at his phone, waiting and checking and rereading old messages just to feel something familiar.

And then came the call.

He was in the van, it was very noisy, his friends were having fun. It was his friend's birthday and they had plans. They were already late for the temple. Everything was loud and chaotic, his phone buzzed and William’s name flashed across the screen. Est didn’t even think before stepping away and moving to the corner seat of the van, away from everyone.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless.

“Hey,” William replied, and he sounded tired again. No, not just tired, worn out.

“You okay?” Est asked automatically.

“Yeah. Same shit,” William said, a faint huff of a laugh following.

There was a pause, it was short but noticeable. “You busy?” William asked.

“I’m out. It’s my friend’s birthday,” Est said, glancing at his friends in the distance.

“Oh,” William said. “Should I call later?”

And something about that, that word again, just pressed on something already sore.

“You’re always calling later,” Est said and the moment it left his mouth, he knew it didn’t come out the way he meant it to.

William went quiet for a second. “What?”

“I didn’t mean-” Est exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I just mean… it’s always later. Or short. Or you have to go.”

“I’m not doing it on purpose, Phi,” William said, not harsh, but firm. “You know that.”

“I do,” Est said quickly, because he really did. “I’m not saying you’re doing something wrong.”

“Are you disappointed in me?”

“I’m not,” Est insisted, voice dropping slightly. “I just… feel like I have to catch you in between things. Like I’m-” he stopped, struggling to phrase it without sounding stupid. “Like I’m fitting into whatever time you have left.”

“That’s not fair, you know I try my best to talk to you,” William said immediately, and this time there was a clear edge to it.

“I didn’t say it was fair,” Est replied, quieter now, because he could feel the conversation slipping. “It’s just how it feels.”

“I’m trying,” William said, frustration creeping in. “You think I don’t want to talk to you?”

“I don’t know what you want lately,” Est admitted, and that was the worst part because it was honest.

An uncomfortable silence stretched for a minute.

“I literally called you right now,” William said after a moment. “Please don’t think that I don’t care.”

“I didn’t say that.”

A pause and then, William said, “I have to go. They’re calling me.”

Of course they were. “Yeah,” Est said, swallowing. “Go.”

The call ended like that and for some reason it felt like something went with it.

After that, neither of them reached out the same way. They weren’t completely silent, not fully gone, but distant like both of them were waiting for the other to do something first.

To top all the tension off, came the Japan post.

It should have been nothing. Just pictures. Just a dump. But when Est opened it and realized he wasn’t in any of them, not even accidentally, not even in the background, it hit harder than it should have. The caption ‘wrapped up but the cold won’, sat there like it meant something he couldn’t fully understand and Est found himself comparing it to his own Japan posts, where William was everywhere, threaded through every memory without hesitation.

It really got to him, even though he tried to pretend it didn’t. That trip had meant something. It had been easy and full of moments that felt real in a way nothing lately did. So it shouldn’t have mattered logically, there could’ve been a hundred reasons for it but feelings aren’t logical.

The whole thing didn't sit well with him and still, he liked it. Not because he felt okay about it, but because he didn’t want to seem like he wasn’t watching.

William noticed the like and somewhere in his mind he expected indifference, expected Est to ignore it completely, to react the way they had been lately. But that single like, that quiet acknowledgment, carried something heavier. It said I’m here, but also I’m not reaching for you.

So William responded in the only way he seemed to know how now, indirectly. Because he knew he fucked up. He posted a story hours later, another glimpse of Japan, but this time Est was there and William tagged him in it.

When Est saw it, he hesitated. His thumb hovered over the screen, caught between wanting to respond and refusing to be the one who gave in first. In the end, he did nothing. He watched it more than once, thumb hovering over the screen, mind running in circles. ‘Repost it. Say something. Do anything.’ But in the end, he locked his phone and put it down, choosing silence again, even though it felt like swallowing glass.

The next day, Est did the same thing back. A New York dump, carefully curated, full of moments William had actually been part of, but erased completely from what Est chose to show. It wasn’t exactly revenge, that’s a big word. It was self protection? Twisted into something that looked like indifference.

The worst part was that both of them knew what they were doing. Neither of them were oblivious. They were just stuck in this quiet standoff where reaching out felt like losing and pulling away felt like the only way to keep whatever dignity they had left.

Neither of them were saying anything but everything they did was loud. Every post and every silence, it all spoke in ways words didn’t. And the worst part was that nothing between them was actually broken. The feelings were still there. Est still checked his phone hoping for William’s name. William still typed messages and deleted them before sending.

They both missed each other. They just didn’t know how to reach out without feeling like they’d be the one losing first. And somehow, in just fifteen days, something that had always been so easy had turned into this aching distance where love existed, but neither of them knew how to touch it anymore.

•

It was one of those nights where everything felt heavier than it probably was. Est was laying on his back, staring at the ceiling like it might give him an answer if he looks long enough, like the ceiling will turn into something that makes sense. The room was dim and quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner.

Everything felt too still, the kind of silence that presses down on your chest instead of calming you. His phone was next to him, screen dark, untouched for longer than he wants to admit, because checking it again would just make it worse and he already knows there’s nothing new waiting for him there.

His thoughts didn’t stop. They never seem to stop these days. They loop, rewind, replay and twist into shapes that make everything feel heavier.

He knows, knows it well that William is busy, that rehearsals are draining, that this distance isn’t something either of them asked for. He knows all of that and still it doesn’t stop the way it feels like something is slipping, like he’s losing grip on something that was never fully his to begin with. And that’s the worst part, this wasn’t even something defined, nothing he could point to and say this is mine. Just something they both felt, something that existed in the way William looked at him, the way they gravitated toward each other without thinking, the way everything had always felt natural.

Now it doesn’t. Now it feels like effort. Like distance and like doubts.

Est exhales slowly, dragging a hand over his face and that’s when it hits him, the memory of his favorite time with William, like his mind was trying to compensate for everything that’s missing now.

Rome.

It had been so… easy there. They’d just been there, existing in the same space, moving around each other like it was the most normal thing in the world. They’d gone out, walked through streets that felt too beautiful to be real, laughed over stupid things, eaten more than they should have, talked about everything and nothing and then they’d come back to the hotel, tired and both of them quieter now, the energy had settled into something slower.

Est remembered laying on the bed, half on his side, scrolling through something on his phone while William sat beside him, saying something about the food, about how he was still hungry even after everything they’d eaten. Est had laughed, told him he was ridiculous and William had nudged him lightly.

And then, at some point, they both just stopped. It wasn’t dramatic. Just a moment where the conversation faded, where the space between them felt smaller without either of them moving much, where Est looked up and realized William was already looking at him.

There had always been something there. They both knew it. They just never crossed it. Until they did. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hesitant either.

The kiss was very sudden. The first touch was cautious like testing something fragile, but it didn’t stay that way for long. It deepened slowly like something that had been building for too long and finally had somewhere to go.

Est remembers the way his chest tightened, not in panic but in something overwhelming in the best way. He remembers his hand finding William’s shirt without thinking, fingers curling like he needed something to hold onto, like he needed to anchor himself in that moment. He remembers William’s hand at his jaw, then at his neck, grounding him.

They didn’t talk. Not before. Not during. Not after. They just stayed, foreheads resting together and breaths uneven. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t like they’d crossed some forbidden line and now everything had to change. It just felt like something that had been there all along had finally surfaced. Like they’d stopped pretending not to see it.

Est remembers the way William had let out a quiet breath, almost like a laugh and how his thumb had brushed lightly against Est’s jaw without thinking.

Neither of them said, what was that?

Neither of them asked, what are we now?

Because saying it out loud would’ve made it real in a way they weren’t ready for. So instead, they did the only thing they knew how to do, they stayed close without naming it. William had shifted slightly, pulling Est in without making it obvious and Est had gone easily, like it was the most natural thing in the world to fit there. They’d laid like that for a long time, bodies close, breaths slowly evening out.

At some point, Est had buried his face into William’s shoulder, half hiding, half holding on, and William hadn’t said anything about it. Just adjusted, just let him. His hand had come to rest on Est’s back, fingers moving down his spine absently like he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

And that was it. It just became something that existed quietly between them from that moment on, something that showed itself in small ways how they stood closer, how their hands brushed more often, how their eyes lingered a little longer than before.

They never talked about it.

•

Est’s chest tightened as the memory fades, leaving him right back where he is now.

His eyes sting before he even realizes it and then a tear slips down the side of his face, disappearing into his hairline. He doesn’t move to wipe it away.

He hates this feeling.

Hates how everything inside him feels so unstable. Like he’s standing on something that could give way at any second. He doesn’t like feeling like he’s too much, like he’s asking for something unreasonable just by wanting to feel wanted, to feel chosen. He doesn’t like that he knows William cares and still he can’t stop overthinking. But what can he even do? right now, it doesn’t feel like enough. That thought alone makes guilt twist in his chest.

Because what if this is all he will have to settle with. What if Est is the one expecting too much? What if this is affecting him more than it ever did to William?

That thought alone feels suffocating.

He turns his head slightly, blinking up at the ceiling again, trying to push it away, but it still lingers. And then as if the Gods above were listening to his inner monologue, his phone lights up.

The sudden brightness makes him flinch slightly, his gaze snapping toward it.

William.

He just stares at the name for a second, like it doesn’t make sense, like his brain needs time to catch up with what he’s seeing. His heart starts beating faster and louder immediately and his first instinct is confusion more than anything else.

Why is he calling?

It’s been, what, days? Days of not exactly complete silence, but close enough. Enough that this feels unexpected.

The phone keeps ringing.

Five seconds. Ten.

Est’s hand hovers over it, caught between wanting to answer immediately and something else holding him back. He lets it ring a little longer. Then finally, he picks up.

“…hello?” His voice comes out softer than he intended, but still a little rough around the edges.

There’s a pause on the other end, like William wasn’t expecting him to sound like that.

“Hey,” William says and his voice, God, it sounds different. As if he’s not rushing for the first time these days.“Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Est swallows. “No. I was just laying down.”

Another small pause. Then William says, more quietly, “Are you okay?”

That question shouldn’t do anything. But unfortunately it does everything.

Est lets out a short breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah. Why?”

“You don’t sound okay.”

“I’m fine,” Est replies automatically, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

There’s silence again. Then, almost hesitantly, “Are you… upset with me?”

The question hangs there, heavier than anything else they’ve said so far. Est’s fingers curl slightly against the bedsheet. He stares at the ceiling again, because it’s easier than closing his eyes, easier than letting himself feel everything all at once.

“No,” he says.

It’s not entirely true but it’s not entirely false either.

“I feel like you are,” William says, and there’s something in his voice now, guilt? Is it that? “You’ve been… different.”

Est doesn’t respond immediately because yes he has been different. Because he doesn’t know how not to be.

“I didn’t mean for things to feel like this,” William continues, words coming slower now, “I know I’ve been busy and I know I haven’t been… there the way I usually am, but…” he pauses, exhaling quietly. “I miss you, Phi. A lot actually. There’s nothing I’ve wanted these nights more than you holding me close. ”

Est’s chest tightens at that. He closes his eyes this time.

“I can’t wait to see you,” William adds, softer still, like he means it in a way that goes beyond just saying it. “It’s just two more days.”

Two days.

It feels both close and impossibly far. Est shifts slightly on the bed, turning onto his side, phone pressed closer to his ear. His throat feels tight, his thoughts tangled, everything inside him pulling in different directions.

He wants to believe that. He wants to just… let that be enough. But the doubt is still there, persistent.

“…yeah,” he says finally and even he knows it comes out distant. Not at all matching what William just gave him at all.

There’s a pause on the other end, longer this time.

“Phi,” William says, a little more firmly now, like he’s trying to reach him through whatever wall he can feel. “Talk to me.”

Est swallows, eyes fixed on nothing. “I am talking,” he replies, but even he can hear how closed off he sounds.

“That’s not what I mean.”

Silence stretches between them again, thick with everything they’re not saying. Est doesn’t know how to explain this without sounding like he’s asking for too much, without admitting that he needs more than what William has been able to give lately. He doesn’t know how to say that he feels like he’s slipping, like he’s not as important as he thought he was, like maybe he imagined everything being deeper than it actually is.

So instead, he says nothing and that silence says enough.

William exhales quietly on the other end, like he’s trying to figure out what to do, what to say, how to fix something he doesn’t fully understand.

“I’m here,” William says after a moment, softer again. “I’m not going anywhere. Nothing would ever change the fact that I love you, okay?”

Est closes his eyes because the problem isn’t that William is leaving or the love. It’s that, right now he doesn't feel…he doesn’t feel close enough to stay.

“…okay,” Est whispers but it doesn’t sound like he believes it and they both hear that.

William takes a deep breath at that, like he’s trying to steady something that isn’t just his voice. There’s a faint, almost self conscious laugh tucked under it, like he knows he’s being obvious but doesn’t care enough to hide it completely.

“Say it back, phi.” He says it, more serious than expected, there’s no teasing in his voice, like the words matter more than he’s letting on.

Est doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a stretch of silence. You could hear it in the way the call doesn’t disconnect, in the faint background noise, in the tiny shift of breath that proves he’s still there.

He doesn’t rush because saying it isn’t easy. It should be. It’s just words. They’ve said things like this before, haven’t they? But right now, it feels like something that needs to be reached for like pulling something out from a place he’s been keeping guarded.

Est inhales quietly. You could hear the hesitation in it, like he’s bracing himself, not for rejection, but for the weight of saying something real when things between them haven’t exactly been steady.

“…yeah.” Another pause. Smaller this time, but still there.

“Me too.”

It comes out a little uneven. Like he had to line the words up in his head before letting them out. Like they cost him something, even if it’s small.

And that’s it.

William exhales right after, but it’s not relief. It’s quieter than before, less forced but there’s something off in it. A kind of… unfinished feeling. Like he’d been holding onto something more, expecting something more, not necessarily bigger words but maybe the exact words.

He doesn’t push, though. Doesn’t joke about it. Doesn’t ask again. Doesn’t say, ‘that’s it?’

“Okay,” he says instead, like he’s accepting it at face value.

And Est hums softly in response, like he’s already retreating back into himself. There’s a beat where it feels like one of them might say something else, anything to stretch the moment, to make it less abrupt. But neither of them does.

“Sleep,” William mutters after a second, voice gentler now.

“You too.”

And then the call ends just like that. The screen goes dark and whatever was sitting between them unsaid, half felt, slightly off, just stayed there as it is.

•

By the time William lands, it’s late enough that the world feels dimmed, everything has already settled into quiet. The airport lights are still harsh, still bright, but outside of that, the city feels slower and heavier, William notices it in a detached way because his body is running on exhaustion more than awareness. His shoulders ache, his head feels foggy and there’s that deep lingering tiredness that comes from weeks of constant movement, flights, noise, people. But underneath all of that, something else is louder. It doesn’t let him sink into that exhaustion the way he should. It keeps him restless, like there’s something unfinished waiting for him. And he knows exactly what it is. Or rather who.

He doesn’t call immediately. He tells himself that he’ll just text and keep it simple, keep it normal, because that’s what things have been lately, normal in the worst way. So he sends a message, thumbs hesitating for half a second before typing it out.

‘Just landed, phi.’

And then after 5 minutes of the first text:

‘Sleeping?’

He stares at it after sending, like it might somehow say more than it does, like it might carry everything he’s not writing. It doesn’t. It just sits there and, he almost regrets not adding anything else, ‘miss you, can I see you?’ but he doesn’t.

Est replies after a bit.

‘Take care, okay? You must be tired. Go rest.’

It’s polite, even soft. But there’s distance in it, a kind of carefulness that wasn’t there before all of this and William feels it immediately, like something small tightening in his chest. It shouldn’t bother him. It’s a normal reply. It makes sense. But it does bother him because it feels like something is missing, like something that used to be there naturally now has to be held back deliberately.

He stares at the screen a little longer than necessary, then exhales quietly and presses call before he can overthink it.

The ringing feels longer than it actually is. It's as if each second stretches. By the time Est picks up, William has already adjusted his tone without meaning to.

“Hello?”

“I’m back,” William says and even he hears how small that sounds, like it carries more weight than just those two words.

There’s a pause. “Yeah,” Est replies. “I saw your text.”

Another pause follows, heavier this time, because neither of them seems to know how to move forward from something that should have been simple.

“You should rest,” Est adds after a moment, voice softer, like he’s choosing the safe thing to say. “You sound tired.”

William lets out a small breath, almost a quiet laugh, rubbing the back of his neck even though Est can’t see it. “I am,” he admits, and then hesitates because there’s something else sitting right there, waiting to be said, something he’s been holding onto the entire flight back. “But…” He trails off, then forces himself to finish it. “I can’t wait to see you.”

The words land the way William intended. They’re clear and direct and not at all hidden behind anything. For a second, William almost expects it to fix something, to shift the tone back into something warmer.

But Est goes quiet. Long enough for doubt to creep in.

“…yeah,” Est says finally. “Me too.”

It’s not wrong. It just doesn’t match. And William hears that. Feels it. But he doesn’t push.

“Sleep,” Est says, quieter, like he’s gently ending the conversation before it can stretch into something more complicated.

“…yeah,” William replies, even though he doesn’t feel ready to end it. The call ends without anything more and somehow, even though William is back in the same city, the distance still feels exactly the same.

•

Songkran doesn’t start as anything serious. It’s supposed to be chaotic and loud in a way that leaves no room for overthinking, no space for the kind of thoughts that had been eating Est alive for the past two weeks. The streets are filled with water, laughter, people running, shouting, music echoing through everything, and it should’ve been easy to lose himself in it. It should’ve been enough. He tried to let it be enough.

He let his friends drag him through the crowds, let himself get drenched over and over again until his clothes clung to him and his hair dripped into his eyes, let himself laugh when someone splashed him out of nowhere, let himself shout back, play along, exist in that moment without thinking too hard. And for brief seconds, it worked. For brief seconds, he forgot.

But it never lasted. Because underneath it all, there was something missing. Someone to be very specific.

William.

The timing of everything had been cruel in a way that almost felt intentional. Every time Est had been free, William had work. Every time William had a moment, Est had an event or he was somewhere else, already pulled into something he couldn’t step away from. They kept missing each other by hours, by minutes, by circumstances that felt small but stacked up into something frustratingly big. Close enough to reach but never actually meeting. And it stretched and stretched.

Until even being in the same city didn’t feel like closeness anymore.

That morning, William had texted.

‘We’ll see each other right?’

Many of their friends from gmmtv had plans to celebrate songkran together.

Est had stared at that message for far too long, his thumb hovering over the screen as his mind spun in circles, pulling him in opposite directions at once. Because the answer was obvious, yes of course they would, but something in him hesitated anyway, something more guarded now after everything that had happened, after how things had felt. He wanted to say more. Wanted to say ‘I’ve missed you, why does it feel weird, are we okay?’

But instead, he typed:

Yeah, of course.

And even as he sent it, he knew it didn’t sound like him. It sounded very flat like he was holding something back on purpose.

William read it and replied with:

🖤

•

William arrived earlier than he needed to. He told himself it didn’t mean anything. That he just didn’t want to be late. That he just wanted to get into it, distract himself and enjoy it. He tried to act normal, like really really tried. He let himself get pulled into the chaos, into the noise, into the energy of everything happening around him. He laughed when someone dumped a bucket of water over him, pushed someone back into the crowd with a grin, let himself get dragged into the conversations. Someone handed him a drink and he took it without thinking, then another, because it was easier to let everything blur a little than to sit with the restless feeling sitting under his skin. Music pounded through him, loud enough to drown out most thoughts. But not all.

Because no matter what he did, no matter how much he tried to lose himself in it, his eyes kept drifting. Back to the entrance. Again and again and again.

Until finally,

Est walked in.

And everything else just… stopped. It was immediate, almost violent in the way it hit him, like something inside his chest snapped into focus all at once. It felt like the movies. The noise dulled, the crowd blurred, the music faded into something distant and unimportant, because suddenly, there was only one thing he could see. Est.

Standing there like nothing had changed. Like everything hadn’t been complicated and distant and frustrating for the past two weeks. His hair was already damp, sticking slightly to his forehead, his shirt half open in that careless way that somehow always looked intentional, his skin catching the light and water as he laughed at something someone said beside him.

And William just… stared because, God. There he was. It felt like being pulled back to something he hadn’t realized he’d been missing this badly until it was right in front of him again. He didn’t think, didn’t consider how it would look or what it would mean.

He just moved and before he could give it a thought, their friends just pulled all of them into a big hug which had Est hold William’s waist and as pathetic as it sounds, William could cry at that. Even that little touch was enough for him to have a breakdown because things genuinely were so hard on him. The work load, the exhaustion and then this weird sort of air with the one and only person who brings you comfort. It was too much.

From that moment on, William didn’t let go. Not even a little. It started small, something easy to dismiss. His arm brushing against Est’s as he passed behind him, his fingers grazing his side as if by accident, his hand landing at his waist for just a second too long. But even those small touches carried something heavier underneath them, something intentional that neither of them acknowledged out loud and then it wasn’t small anymore.

The first back hug happened so naturally it barely registered as a decision. William slipped behind him like he’d done it a hundred times before, arms wrapping firmly around Est’s waist, pulling him back until their bodies aligned perfectly, like they had been missing that exact closeness. It was tight and very sudden. William had held him so tight that Est had to hold the railing to stabilize himself and even then William hadn’t let Est go. His chin hovered near Est’s shoulder, brushing it lightly before settling there for a moment, his breath warm against his skin. He didn’t move away. He stayed like that while conversations happened around them, while people shouted and laughed and splashed water without warning, while music blasted so loud it should’ve been impossible to focus on anything else. But William didn’t seem distracted. Didn’t seem pulled away. If anything, he held on tighter like letting go wasn’t an option.

They were with their friends when, “You never button your shirt properly,” William murmured at one point, voice low and close and full of possessiveness, fingers absentmindedly adjusting the already loose buttons of Est’s shirt, like it mattered in the middle of a festival where everyone was soaked and messy anyway. Pond, who was just standing there, had laughed. “It’s Songkran, William.”

“I know,” William replied, not even looking up as he fixed the fabric again, his touch lingering longer than necessary. He looked at Est, directly in his eyes and said, “Doesn’t mean everyone has to see everything.”

There was something in his tone, not harsh, not controlling but edged with something that felt a little too personal, a little too… possessive.

Est noticed, he didn’t comment on it because the truth was he didn’t want to because he had missed this too. Missed the way William touched him without hesitation, without overthinking, like it was natural, like it was allowed. Missed the closeness, the constant contact, the quiet assurance that came from just being near him. So Est said nothing and tightened his hold on William, smiling ear to ear.

William didn’t hold back the whole night. At some point, the music shifted, something slower slipping into the mix, something softer under the chaos and William leaned in closer, his lips near Est’s ear as he started singing along. Not loudly and certainly not for anyone else but just for him.

William started singing the lyrics along, it brushed against Est’s skin, too close, sending something quiet through his chest. Neither of them talked about it. About the tension. About the distance. About the past two weeks. Because this was easier. Their bodies had always been easier. Touch didn’t require explanation but words did. Maybe that was why everything had fallen apart before. Because they’d been left with only words and neither of them knew how to handle that without losing something. So now, they didn’t try. They just stayed like this.

•

Est had thought they would talk eventually. When things slowed down. When the noise faded. When it was just them but that moment never came because William was drunk. Not out of control, not messy but enough that his grip lingered longer, his movements softened into something heavier, his need more visible than usual and by the time it got too much,
he was taken home and just like that no conversation, no clarity.

The next day slipped away again, schedules and timing. Always something.

By the last day, they weren’t in the same group. They didn't make any plans. Est had thought William probably has some work again or he might be resting but then Est checked twitter and saw that William was out with his own group and somehow, that felt worse now, after having had him so close, after remembering what it felt like to be held like that.

Est tried not to think about it. Tried to stay present, laughing with his friends, letting himself be pulled into conversations, into moments that should’ve been enough. Then his phone buzzed.

‘Where are you?’

He frowned slightly, staring at the message.

‘Why?’ he typed back.

No reply. So after a second, he sent his location anyway.

He didn’t expect anything immediate. Went back to talking, to laughing until suddenly-

Someone wrapped their air around him from behind so tightly it knocked the breath out of him for a second. It wasn’t gentle at all. It wasn’t casual either. It was as if someone had been searching and searching and finally found what they were looking for.

Est froze for a second but then exhaled because he knew. William. He could feel him everywhere, the solid press of his chest against his back, the firm hold of his arms locked around his waist, the way he pulled him closer like even that wasn’t enough. And then, a hot breath right against his ear.

“Hey.”

Est swallowed, his voice quieter when he replied, “Hi.”

William didn’t let go. Instead, he shifted slightly, swaying them both with the rhythm of the music playing somewhere in the background, even if it wasn’t meant to be danced to, even if the world around them was still loud and chaotic.
He made it feel slow anyway and again he sang right there into Est’s ear. Like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Like it was just them.

It took a long time before they separated.
And even then, it wasn’t really distance, just enough space to look at each other properly, to exist side by side instead of completely wrapped together.

The night carried on. But William didn’t stop. If anything, he got worse. His hand always finding Est again, fingers curling into his shirt, his wrist, his waist, anything he could hold onto, like he needed constant confirmation that Est was there, still within reach. At one point, he got pulled away into a conversation, leaving Est alone for the first time in what felt like hours.

That’s when it happened. Someone approached him. They smiled at him and then asked for his number.

Est blinked, caught off guard more than anything, then shook his head almost immediately. “No, sorry.”

It wasn’t even a thought. Just instinct but afterward, something lingered. A feeling he didn’t fully understand and when William came back,

“William?”

“Yeah?” he replied instantly, attention snapping back to him like nothing else mattered.

Est hesitated for just a second, then said it anyway. “That person was asking for my number.”

William paused just for a second. Then nodded slowly. “You didn’t give it, right?”

Est tilted his head slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Do you think I would?”

William held his gaze. Then shook his head, quieter now. He took a sip of his drink. For a moment, it felt like that was it. Just a normal conversation about something insignificant.
But then-

William moved. His hand came up sliding to the back of Est’s head, grounding him there and before Est could even react,

William leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. It wasn’t rushed, it lingered longer than normal forehead kisses do. Like it meant something he wasn’t saying out loud.

Est felt every second of it. It settled deep in his chest, spreading slowly, quietly overwhelming everything else and when William pulled back, Est didn’t speak, he didn’t question it or ask what it meant. He just smiled because even without words, that had said enough.

It might have ended there quietly with that forehead kiss still lingering like something fragile and unspoken between them, if William hadn’t already made up his mind.

Because somewhere in between the back hugs, the singing, the way Est had stayed instead of pulling away, something had settled inside him with a kind of certainty he hadn’t felt in weeks. He wanted time. He wanted to talk to Est. But not like this, not in this half shared space in crowds, stolen touches in between noise, moments that looked like everything but still left too much unsaid.

So he told himself, today. Today, he would just ask. Nothing complicated. Just… simple and direct.

Take him home. Sit with him. Talk. Or not talk. Just be in the same space without the world interrupting every few seconds. It sounded easy in his head.

They were standing a little off to the side by then, not completely away from the crowd but far enough that the noise dulled into something manageable, music still vibrating through the air but no longer overwhelming.

Est looked calmer now, less caught up in the chaos, his hair still damp, his shirt clinging slightly, eyes softer in the low light. For a moment, William just watched him. Tried to find the right way to say it because suddenly, it didn’t feel simple anymore. Still, he forced himself to speak before he could overthink it into silence.

“Do you have anywhere to be?”

It came out casual but he expected Est to understand what he meant without him having to spell it out. That was how it had always worked between them, half sentences, unfinished thoughts, things understood without being explained. So he waited.

Est didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said, adjusting the strap of whatever he was holding, voice light, unaware of the weight behind the question. “I have plans with my friends till-” he checked the time, “like 3am.”

And that was it. It wasn’t harsh or dismissive. It was just normal. But it landed wrong and heavy.

William felt it immediately, the way something in his chest dropped just slightly, the way the words he had been holding onto quietly unraveled before they even had a chance to be said.

Because now it felt like asking would be too much. Like asking Est to leave those plans, to come with him instead, would be unfair. Almost selfish. Especially when, for the past two weeks, William had been the one unavailable. The one saying later, the one cutting conversations short, the one who couldn’t make time no matter how much he wanted to.

So what right did he have now to ask for Est’s time? To expect him to change his plans? To choose him like that?

The thought sat uncomfortably in his chest and instead of pushing past it, he let it stop him.

“Oh,” William said, “Okay.”

He nodded once, like that settled it. Like it didn’t matter. Like he hadn’t been planning something else entirely.

Est didn’t notice the shift immediately. Or maybe he did and didn’t know what to do with it. Either way, nothing was said about it. No follow up. No ‘why?’ No ‘what did you mean?’

The moment passed too easily and that almost made it worse because it meant it hadn’t meant enough, at least not obviously enough to stop anything. They stood there for a second longer, the noise from the crowd filling the space between them now.

William exhaled quietly, then stepped forward. He pulled Est into a hug. It wasn’t like the ones earlier, those had been instinctive, almost unconscious in how naturally they happened.

This one felt intentional. His arms wrapped around Est firmly, holding him close for just a second longer than necessary, like he was trying to memorize the feeling again, like he was holding onto something that was already slipping.

Est hugged him back without hesitation.

“Take care,” William murmured quietly, voice low enough that it almost got lost in the noise around them.

Est nodded against him. “You too.”

William pulled back first. Looked at him for a second, considering if he should say all what he planned, but he didn’t. He just nodded once more and stepped away. The distance between them returned so easily it almost felt practiced and then William turned and left.

And it just became another moment that could have been something more, and wasn’t.

•

William reached home sometime around 2am though he barely registered the exact time. The world felt dimmed, slightly tilted at the edges, his body heavy with exhaustion and alcohol, his thoughts still running too fast for how tired he actually was. The silence of the house hit him the second he stepped inside, it was too quiet after hours of noise, laughter, music and it didn’t soothe him the way it should have. It just made everything inside his head louder.

He didn’t stop anywhere. Didn’t check his phone. He just went straight to his room. The door shut behind him with a dull sound and he just stood there, blinking slowly, trying to ground himself in something real. But the moment he was still, everything came rushing back, the crowd, the way Est had laughed earlier, the way he’d stayed, the way he hadn’t come with him.

‘Yeah, I have plans till 3 am.’

William exhaled sharply, dragging a hand over his face like he could wipe the thought away. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, voice low and rough with excessive drinking.

His clothes suddenly felt suffocating, too damp, too heavy, clinging in a way that irritated him more than it should. Without thinking much, he started pulling them off, carelessly letting everything fall wherever it landed. He just needed to lie down. He dropped onto the bed without even fixing the sheets, his body sinking into the mattress as he shut his eyes immediately, like that alone might shut everything else off too.

It almost worked, that’s what he thought. But then his mind caught up again.

Est in the crowd. Est in his arms. Est pulling away just enough. Est saying no without really saying no.

William shifted, turning onto his side, then onto his back again, one arm thrown over his eyes as his jaw tightened.

“I want to fucking sleep.” he muttered.

But his body didn’t listen. If anything, it felt worse. He was restless. Like something was missing in a way that didn’t make sense logically, but his body felt it anyway. His chest felt tight, like there was pressure sitting there that wouldn’t go away, no matter how he shifted or tried to ignore it.

He sat up suddenly. The movement made his head spin for a second, the room tilting slightly, but he didn’t care. He pushed his hair back, breathing uneven now, frustration creeping in under everything else.

“Fuck,” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “No, Fuck it.”

He couldn’t stay here. He knew it instantly. If he lay back down, if he let this night end like that, he would regret it and that thought alone was enough to push him up. He stood abruptly, movements quick now, almost restless, grabbing the first set of clean clothes he could find and changing without really thinking about it. His hands weren’t completely steady, but he ignored that too, focused on just moving.

He stepped out of his room and headed downstairs, the house still quiet, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the background. The normalcy of it felt strange like it didn’t match what was happening inside him at all. He went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and drank from it immediately, long gulps, like he was trying to clear his head, to push past the haze just enough to think properly. He set the bottle down, staring at the counter for a moment, thoughts still running, but clearer now.

William didn’t give himself time to rethink it. He didn’t sit back down, he just grabbed his keys and walked to the door because whatever this feeling was, he wasn’t going to sleep through it.

•

It was getting late, late enough that the chaos of the night had started to settle into something more scattered like the festival itself was winding down after hours of noise and movement. The streets were still alive, still glowing with leftover energy but it wasn’t the same overwhelming rush anymore. People were starting to leave in groups, some laughing tiredly, some already planning where to go next, others just done for the night.

Est stood with his friends, half in the conversation, half somewhere else entirely. He nodded when someone asked something, hummed in agreement at the right moments, but his mind wasn’t really there. It hadn’t been ever since William walked away.

Because something about that moment, about the way it had just ended hadn’t sat right with him. He hadn’t realized it at first. Not immediately. But now, with a little distance, with the noise fading just enough for his thoughts to come back, it was settling in uncomfortable.

He had expected something. Not consciously. Not in a way he had admitted to himself. But he had waited. Even if it was just for a second. Waited for William to turn back. To say something more. To ask him to come along. To want him enough to not let it end like that.

But William hadn’t. He had just accepted it. Said “okay” and left and that had said more than anything else could have.

Est swallowed slowly, his chest tightening just a little as the realization settled deeper. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to stay present, to not let it show.

Because what else could he do?

He told himself he’d read too much into things again. That whatever this was between them, it wasn’t what he thought it was. Not for William.

‘He doesn’t need you like that.’ The thought wasn’t loud but it stayed. ‘You’re the one making it bigger than it is.’

And that hurt. In a way that didn’t break him in the moment, but lingered underneath everything. So when his friends started talking about heading back, about wrapping it up, about last minute plans, Est just went along with it. Let himself be pulled into something simple, something uncomplicated.

It was easier that way until his phone buzzed. He glanced down without thinking and then froze.

William.

For a second, his brain didn’t process it properly. Because… why? They had just said goodbye. That was it, wasn’t it? His fingers hovered over the screen for a second longer than necessary, a flicker of confusion mixing with something sharper, something he didn’t want to name.

Then he picked up.

“William?” His voice came out controlled.

“Where are you?” William’s voice came through immediately, no greeting, just that.

Est frowned slightly, thrown off by the urgency in it. “I’m… here. With my friends,” he said, glancing around like that would somehow clarify things. “What happened?”

There was a pause.

“I’m outside,” William said.

Est blinked. “Outside… where?”

“Where you are,” William replied, like it was obvious. Like there was no other option.

Something in Est’s chest shifted. “What?” he let out, almost a breath more than a word.

“Just come outside,” William added softly, “Please.”

And that did it. Est didn’t think. He didn’t stop to analyze why William was there, what it meant, what he was about to say. “Okay,” he said quickly. “Okay-wait.” He hung up before anything else could be said, barely registering his friends asking him something as he turned, already moving.

“I’ll be back,” he threw over his shoulder, not even waiting for a response and then he was walking fast. Then faster. Then almost running. His heart was beating louder than it should have been, something sharp and unfamiliar rushing through him, a mix of confusion, anticipation and something dangerously close to hope, something he had just convinced himself not to feel.

The moment Est reached the entrance, slightly out of breath from how fast he’d walked, run, really, his eyes scanned the line of cars almost frantically, like he was afraid he’d imagined the call, like William wouldn’t actually be there.

But then he saw it. William’s car. Parked a little off to the side, headlights dim against the chaos of the street and something in his chest tightened. He didn’t hesitate. He walked straight to it, hand reaching for the door before he could second guess anything, pulling it open and slipping inside in one quick motion, like if he slowed down even a little, he might stop himself.

The door shut with a soft thud and just like that, everything went quiet. Not completely silent, the faint noise of the festival could still be heard from outside but inside the car, it felt contained, like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

William was in the driver’s seat, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel, eyes fixed straight ahead. He looked at Est but didn’t say anything. Est didn’t say anything either. He sat there, heart still racing from the suddenness of everything, from the call, from the way William had said I’m outside like it meant something urgent.

The air felt heavy like there were too many things sitting between them that hadn’t been said yet. A few seconds passed but neither of them moved and then Est finally broke it, his voice quieter now, more cautious than he intended.

“All good?”

It was such a simple question but it didn’t feel simple. William let out a small laugh at that, not loud, but something edged with disbelief more than anything else. Then he turned his head and there was something in his expression, something tired but honest in a way Est hadn’t seen in days.

“Even you know nothing’s good, phi.”

Est stilled slightly, his eyes locking with William’s. William held his gaze for a second longer, like he was making sure Est was really there, really listening. Then he said it.

“I want to talk to you.”

That sent something sharp through Est’s chest because suddenly, everything he had been avoiding, everything he had been pushing down, everything he had convinced himself didn’t matter felt like it was about to come crashing right back.

Shit. Fuck. It’s happening.

The thought hit him all at once, his stomach tightening slightly, nerves kicking in before he could stop them. Because what if this was it? What if this was where things broke? Or worse, what if this was where William told him that all of this… wasn’t what Est thought it was and that they were complicating their work life because of these misunderstandings.

Est didn’t respond immediately. He couldn't trust his voice to come out steady. William seemed to notice. He exhaled quietly, glancing away for a second before speaking again, his tone more careful. “But not here,” he said, nodding slightly toward the outside, where the distant noise of the crowd still lingered. “It’s too loud.”

A pause, then, “Can I take you to my home?”

It wasn’t demanding, it was rather a request.

Est looked at him. At the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers flexed slightly against the steering wheel, the way his expression held something unsteady under the surface, like he was trying to keep it together just enough to say this properly. In that moment all of Est’s overthinking, all of his doubts, all of the quiet hurt from earlier just… paused.

Because whatever this was, it mattered.

William wouldn’t have come back otherwise. He wouldn’t have called. He wouldn’t be here. So Est nodded. “Okay.” That was all he said.

William didn’t reply. He just nodded back, like that was enough, like he didn’t trust himself to say anything more right now without messing it up. Then he started the car pulling away from the noise and into the quieter streets. The drive was silent. It was the kind of silence that pressed in from all sides, thick with everything that hadn’t been said yet, everything waiting just beneath the surface. The city lights passed by outside the window, the hum of the engine steady but inside the car, neither of them seemed to relax.

Est sat still, hands resting in his lap, gaze fixed somewhere ahead but not really seeing anything.

His thoughts were loud again. Running through every possibility, every outcome, every version of this conversation that could happen once they got there.

Beside him, William was just as quiet. His focus was on the road, but his grip on the steering wheel wasn’t entirely relaxed, his jaw set just slightly tighter than usual.

Neither of them spoke, maybe because they both knew whatever was about to happen next, was going to change something.

•

They don’t speak when they reach.

The car slows, then stops in front of William’s house. The sudden quiet feels louder than the drive had been, like everything they’d been holding in has nowhere left to go now. Neither of them moves immediately.

William exhales first. A long, uneven breath like he’s been holding it in since he called. “Come,” he says quietly, already opening the door before Est can respond. Est follows without a word.

His house feels different tonight. Not unfamiliar at all because Est has been here before but today it feels heavier. Like the air itself knows something is about to break open.

William doesn’t turn on the main light. Just the lamp. Soft yellow fills the room, shadows stretching into corners, making everything feel more intimate. They stand there for a second. Too far apart for William's liking. He runs a hand through his hair, pacing once before stopping like he’s forcing himself to stay still.

Est watches him. “Say it,” He says finally, his voice quieter than he intended, but steady enough. “You said you wanted to talk.”

William lets out a breath that almost turns into a laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “I do.” He looks at Est properly and something in his expression shifts like he’s dropping whatever he was trying to hold up before.

“What happened to us?” William asks. It’s not accusatory in any way, it just sounds tired.

Est blinks, caught off guard by how simple the question is. How heavy it feels anyway. “You tell me,” he says, quieter now, his arms crossing slightly over his chest like he needs something to hold onto. “You were the one who disappeared.”

William flinches. It’s small but it’s there. “I didn’t disappear,” he says, a little too quickly, then exhales, correcting himself. “Okay, maybe it felt like that. But I didn’t mean to. I was…” he gestures vaguely, frustration creeping in, “...busy, Phi. It was nonstop. Rehearsals, Concert, flights, everything. I thought you understood that.”

“I did,” Est says immediately. “I do. That’s not-” he cuts himself off, shaking his head, his voice tightening. “That’s not the problem.”

“Then what is?” William asks, stepping closer without realizing it. “Because from my side, it just felt like you… pulled away. Like suddenly I was talking to someone who didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

Est lets out a short, breathless laugh. “Are you serious right now?”

“Yes,” William says, his voice firm now. “I am.”

Est stares at him for a second, disbelief flashing across his face. “You barely had time for me,” he says, slower now, like he’s trying to keep it together. “Every time we talked, you were tired or you had to go or it was just…short. I kept telling myself it’s fine, he’s busy, he’ll make time later, because you always do, right?” His voice wavers slightly at the end. “That’s what you do.”

William’s expression falters. “I tried-”

“I know,” Est cuts in, not harsh, but firm. “You did. But it didn’t feel like that. Not really. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to make it harder for you. I didn’t want to be that person who complains when you’re already exhausted.” He takes a deep breath, “But then it just kept happening,” Est continues, quieter now. “And I started thinking… maybe it’s not just the schedule. Maybe it’s me.”

William’s brows pull together. “What?”

“Yeah,” Est lets out a breath, his gaze dropping for a second before he forces himself to look back up. “Maybe you just… didn’t need me like that. Maybe I was the one who made it something bigger than it actually is.”

“That’s not true,” William says immediately.

“Then why did it feel like that?” Est asks, and there’s something raw in his voice now. “Why did it feel like I was the only one waiting? The only one trying to hold onto something that kept slipping?”

William goes quiet because he doesn’t have an immediate answer. And that silence…that hurts.

Est swallows, his throat tightening as everything he’s been holding in starts to push up. “And today…” he continues, “When you asked me if I had somewhere to be…I thought…” he lets out a shaky breath, shaking his head slightly. “I thought you were going to ask me to come with you.”

William’s eyes widen slightly. “I was,” he says, stepping closer. “I wanted to. I just-”

“But you didn’t,” Est says. And yeah, that’s the point.

William exhales, running a hand over his face, frustration and regret mixing together. “Because it felt wrong,” he admits finally, his voice quieter now. “To ask you to drop your plans. After all those days where I couldn’t make time for you. I didn’t think I had the right to do that.”

Est blinks. The words sink in slowly. “…what?”

“I thought you’d think I was selfish,” William says, his jaw tightening slightly. “Like I only show up when it’s convenient for me and expect you to just… be there.”

Est stares at him, something in his expression cracks. “Do you even hear yourself?” he whispers.

William frowns. “What?”

“I would’ve gone with you,” Est says, his voice breaking slightly now. “I would’ve cancelled everything if you had just asked.”

William’s breath catches slightly.

And suddenly, everything feels clearer and worse at the same time. All the distance and silence and assumptions. All that for nothing.

William lets out a shaky breath, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Fuck…” he murmurs under his breath.

Est huffs out a weak, broken laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Fuck.”

There’s a long pause before Est’s eyes fill before he can stop it. He looks away immediately, blinking hard, like he can push it back, like he can hold it in just a little longer. But he can’t because it’s been building for days and weeks.

“I hated it,” he says, voice cracking now, barely above a whisper. “Feeling like I didn’t matter. Like I was just… there when you had time.”

William’s chest tightens painfully at that. “Phi-”

“I know you were busy,” Est rushes out, shaking his head, tears slipping down now despite him trying to stop them. “I know that. I kept telling myself that. But it still felt like shit, okay? It still hurt.”

William steps closer immediately. “Hey-” his voice softens, panicked now, like he doesn’t know how to fix this fast enough. “Hey, look at me.”

Est doesn’t at first but then slowly, he does and seeing him like that, actually crying, something in William breaks. “I’m sorry,” William says, and this time it’s not controlled. It’s raw. “I didn’t know it felt like that. I swear I didn’t.”

Est laughs weakly through the tears. “Of course you didn’t. I didn’t tell you.”

“That doesn’t make it okay,” William says quickly, his own voice unsteady now. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve-” His words cut off as his own emotions catch up with him, his throat tightening, eyes burning in a way he can’t ignore. “I missed you,” he says instead, voice breaking slightly. “Like…it wasn’t just you. I was going insane there. I just didn’t know how to fix it.”

That’s when Est softens because that sounds real because that sounds like what he felt too and suddenly they’re both standing there, too close now, too emotional.

“Then why didn’t you just say it?” Est whispers.

William shakes his head, letting out a shaky breath. “Because I thought you already knew.”

Est lets out a quiet, broken laugh. “Yeah,” he says softly. “That’s the problem.”

William wipes at his face quickly, frustrated at himself, then steps even closer, hesitating for just a second before reaching out.

His hand finds Est’s wrist first. “I don’t want this,” he says quietly. “This distance. This, whatever this became.”

Est looks at their hands, then back at him. “…me neither,” he admits.

They don’t move away immediately after that. The distance between them is already gone, physically and emotionally and neither of them seems ready to step back into that space again. The room is quiet, like something heavy has already been said and there’s less pressure sitting between them. But not none because both of them know this isn’t the end of it. It can’t be.

Est exhales slowly, wiping at his face, his voice steadier now but still carrying the weight of everything that just came out. “This is going to happen again.”

William stills slightly.

Est doesn’t look away this time. He holds his gaze, serious now, grounded in something more real than just the hurt.

“It’s not just these two weeks,” he continues quietly. “This is your work. Your schedule. Tours, rehearsals, travel… it’s not going to slow down just because we figured this out today.”

William’s jaw tightens a little, not defensive, just… aware.

“It will happen again, in August,” Est adds after a second.

William nods slowly. “Yeah.”

Est looks down for a moment, then back up again. “So what happens then?” he asks, not accusing, but needing an answer. “Do we just… go through this all over again? You get busy, I overthink, we both assume things instead of saying them and then…” he gestures slightly between them, “...this happens again?”

William exhales, dragging a hand through his hair, the question clearly landing heavier than anything else. “Do you think I want that?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know,” Est admits and that honesty is softer than anything else he could’ve said. “That’s the problem. I didn’t know these past two weeks either.”

William nods once, slow, like he’s taking it in properly this time instead of brushing past it. “Yeah,” he says under his breath. “I know.”

Silence stretches for a second, but it doesn’t feel like avoidance anymore, it feels like they’re both actually thinking. Then William steps closer again, just enough to stay connected.

“It will happen again,” he says finally, and there’s no denial in it. No false reassurance. “Not this exactly. But… distance. Busy schedules. Me disappearing for hours sometimes because I don’t have a choice.”

Est listens carefully.

“But,” William continues, his voice more certain, “we don’t have to let it turn into this again.”

Est’s brows knit slightly. “How?”

William lets out a small breath, like he’s been thinking about this the entire drive, the entire night. “We will talk,” he says simply.

Est gives him a look, not dismissive, but unconvinced. “We were talking.”

“No,” William shakes his head immediately. “We were… saying things. Not talking.”

That makes Est pause.

“I thought you understood,” William continues, quieter now. “That I was busy, that I still…” he hesitates for half a second, then pushes through, “...that I still wanted you, that nothing had changed.”

Est’s chest tightens slightly at that. “And I thought you understood,” Est replies, just as quietly, “that I needed more than just ‘I’m busy.’ That I needed you to actually… tell me that you’re there. Even if it was small.”

William nods slowly. “Exactly. We both thought the other person just knew.”

“And we were both wrong,” Est finishes.

A small, tired smile tugs at William’s lips. “Yeah.” There’s a brief pause, but it feels lighter this time.

“So,” William says, shifting slightly, his tone more deliberate now, like he’s laying something out clearly, “next time, when August happens, when I’m gone again, we won’t assume.”

Est watches him closely.

“We will say it,” William continues. “If I’m too busy and it’s starting to feel like I’m disappearing, you’ll tell me. Not after two weeks. Not when it’s already messed up. Right then.”

Est hesitates. “And if you’re actually too busy to fix it?”

“Then I’ll tell you that,” William says immediately. “Not just disappear and hope you’ll understand. I’ll say it properly. I’ll explain it. I'll make sure you know it’s not you.”

And yes, that’s all Est had really wanted. Clarity and reassurance.

“Okay,” Est says slowly.

“And you,” William adds, “don’t shut down on me.”

That makes Est huff a small, humorless laugh. “I guess we both made it worse.”

“Exactly.”

“So,” Est says after a moment, his voice softer now, more thoughtful, “we will say things. Even if it’s uncomfortable.”

“Especially if it’s uncomfortable,” William corrects.

Est nods slowly.

“And if something feels off,” William adds, “we won’t let it sit there and grow into something else.” They both fall quiet after that.

William looks at him then, something softer settling into his expression again. “We’ll figure it out,” he says quietly. “Not perfectly. But better than this.”

Everything goes quiet after that.

William is the one who moves first, but it’s not rushed and not impulsive like earlier in the night. This is slower and more certain. His hand finds Est’s again, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently, like he’s asking without words.

Est doesn’t pull away. If anything, he steps closer and that’s enough.

William exhales softly, something almost relieved in the way his shoulders drop, like he didn’t realize how tense he still was until now. His other hand comes up, hesitant for just a second before settling at Est’s waist.

Est feels it immediately. That quiet steadiness. The difference between this and everything earlier.

“Hi,” William murmurs, voice softer now, almost like they’re starting over from a place that makes more sense.

Est lets out a small breath, something close to a laugh but gentler. “Hi.”

There’s a pause, like both of them are taking a second to actually be here, without overthinking the next step.

And then William leans in. Slowly, to give enough time for Est to move away if he wants to.

He doesn’t.

Their foreheads touch first, a familiar kind of closeness that makes everything else fade out again. Est’s eyes close instinctively, his breath evening out as he leans into it, like his body remembers this before his mind can catch up.

William stays there for a second. Just breathing. “I missed this,” he says quietly, barely above a whisper.

Est’s chest tightens, but not painfully this time. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Me too.”

The moment stretches but then, William closes the distance. One second they were just breathing each other in, their foreheads pressed together in a quiet moment of reconnection and the next, the dam finally broke. The kiss was sudden and scorching, a desperate exchange of everything they’d been holding back during the time apart. It was wet and heavy with a hunger that turned the air electric.

The shift was jarring. In a sudden burst of energy, William broke the kiss, his hands sliding down to Est’s waist with a grip that left no room for argument. He spun Est around, the movement fast and firm and pushed him forward until Est’s upper body was bent against the kitchen counter. The sudden shock of the cold marble against Est’s flushed skin made him gasp, his cheek pressing into the smooth cold surface as William crowded behind him.

William didn’t give him a second to recover. He leaned down, his teeth grazing the sensitive shell of Est’s ear, his breath hot and ragged. “I missed you so much,” he growled, the vibration of his voice sending a shiver straight down Est’s spine.

Est braced himself, his fingers curling around the edge of the counter. He expected the intrusion of fingers but apparently William had other plans. In a blur of movement, their clothes were shoved down and kicked aside, leaving them bare in the dim light.

William dropped to his knees behind him. Before Est could even process the change in height, he felt William’s hands catch his hips, pulling him back and spreading him wide and open. Then, the first touch of William’s tongue hit him, hot and wet.

And Oh my fucking God.

A high pitched moan ripped from Est’s throat, his head tossing back as his eyes rolled. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t expected the sheer intensity of William’s mouth on him. William wasn’t being shy about it, he was diving in, his tongue swirling and pushing deep with a sucking force that made the room feel suddenly too hot.

“William-oh god-William” Est panted, his voice a broken wreck. He was a complete mess, his body trembling under the sensation. Every wet lap felt like it was stripping his nerves bare. He felt like he could see heaven through the haze of pleasure, his hips bucking instinctively against William’s face as he tried to get closer and get away all at once.

The sounds were obscene, the wet, heavy sound of William’s mouth working over him mixed with Est’s desperate needy whimpers. He was lost in it, his fingers scratching at the marble counter as he felt himself coming apart before the real work had even begun.

It was a sensory overload, the heat of William’s mouth, the sharp contrast of the cold marble against Est’s chest and the filthy, wet sounds echoing in the quiet kitchen. Every muscle in Est’s body was coiled tight, but as the pleasure spiked into something almost unbearable, his strength started to fail. His legs felt like jelly, his knees knocking together as they threatened to buckle under the weight of what William was doing to him. Subconsciously, Est’s hand scrambled across the counter, his fingers searching for purchase until he found the sharp corner. He gripped it so hard his knuckles turned white, his body trying to lurch forward just to escape the intensity for a split second.

“William-wait, I’m gonna…” Est gasped, his voice breaking as he felt his balance slip.

He tried to push himself off the counter, his feet sliding on the floor, but William was faster. Without breaking the rhythm of his mouth, William reached up, his hand clamping firmly over Est’s white knuckled one on the counter corner. He interlaced their fingers, pinning Est’s hand down and using his own strength to steady him.

At the same time, William’s other arm hooked around Est’s waist, hauling him back and locking him in place. He held Est steady, his body acting as a solid brace that kept Est from collapsing.

“I’ve got you,” William murmured against his skin, the vibration of his voice sending a fresh wave of heat through Est’s frame. “Don't move.”

Est knew he couldn’t run anymore. He was forced to stay right there, pinned between the cold stone and the man who was systematically coming for his soul, his body shaking as he finally stopped fighting.

Eventually, with one final deep swirl of his tongue, he pulled back. Est felt the sudden cool air for only a second before William spit a heavy, thick string of saliva directly onto his hole. Est gasped as he felt the warmth of it slide down, a slow trail of heat that dripped all the way to his balls.

The humiliation of it was a sharp blow to his system. Est was red, his face pressed against the cold marble as he let out a series of broken, needy moans. It was too much, the cold stone, the hot spit and the animalistic way William was taking him apart.

William stood up, his breathing a wreck. He didn’t say a word, the silence between them feeling even louder than the moans. He reached forward, his fingers digging into Est’s jaw to force his head around. With a firm pressure of his thumb against Est’s chin, he forced his mouth open.

He didn’t ask. He just leaned over and spit directly into Est’s mouth.

Est’s eyes were blown wide, tracking William’s dark, hooded gaze as he felt the slick heat hit his tongue. He didn't pull away. Instead, he stared back, completely undone by the dominance of it and slowly, deliberately swallowed.

The view was absolutely obscene. William was hovering right there, his body vibrating with the effort of holding back. Est’s gaze dropped to William’s cock, watching as a heavy, clear bead of precum gathered at the tip and fell against the mess they’d already made on the floor.

“You’re so perfect for me, phi.” William rasped, his voice dropping an octave as he gripped Est’s waist.

William stood up, his breathing a low sound that filled the small kitchen. He didn't rush. Instead, he leaned over Est’s shaking frame and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. It was a silent, tender warning for everything that was about to follow.

Est lay there, draped over the counter in anticipation, his skin flushed and sensitive to the air. William moved into position and with one slow, deliberate nudge, he pushed the head of his cock against the entrance. The first small shove made Est twitch violently, his fingers scrambling for purchase on the marble.

Instinctively, William slid his hand all the way up Est’s back, his palm hot and grounding, smoothing over the tension to soothe him into opening up.

Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, William settled fully inside. The stretch was immense, a heavy solid fullness that made Est’s breath hitch in a long, shaky exhale.

“Phi... can I move?” William rasped, his voice thick with the effort of holding back.

“Yes... fuck, yes,” Est choked out.

That was the breaking point. The gentleness vanished, replaced by a punishing rhythm. William began to fuck him like he wasn’t a human, every thrust fueled by the distance and the hunger he’d been suppressing. He was relentless, his hips snapping forward with a force that made Est’s whole body slide across the counter.

It was too much. The pleasure was so sharp it felt like a fever. Est came twice throughout it, his body sensitive to the point of pain, while William had reached his own orgasm once and simply kept going. Est’s legs were shaking so hard they couldn’t support him anymore and the repetitive, brutal friction was becoming overstimulation.

Est kept moaning William’s name. “William, stop. Wait…” Est tried to say, but his voice was lost in the wet sounds of William’s thrusts. But he genuinely had reached his breaking point. He kept calling out for William but it was as if that man could not hear anything.

So out of overstimulation, Est began to tap crazily on the marble counter, his palm hitting the stone in a frantic rhythm until he finally managed to yell, “Stop! Fuck. Stop!”

And that was it, William snapped out of it, his eyes clearing from the haze of lust as he pulled back, his chest heaving. “What-what happened?”

Est slumped against the counter, his forehead resting on the cool surface as he gasped for air. “William... you missed me, i know that... but please I'm so tired.”

But the hunger hadn’t left William’s eyes. He looked down at Est’s trembling form and felt something like remorse, but his body was still screaming for more. He leaned down, pressing his face into the small of Est’s back, his lips trailing soft, coaxing kisses over the skin he’d just been marking.

“Please,” William whispered, his voice desperate. “Just once more. I promise, it’s the last time. Just let me stay inside you for a few more minutes.”

And well. Est let out a weak, defeated moan. He was exhausted, but the raw need in William’s voice was something he couldn’t say no to. He gave in, nodding his head against the marble.

William didn’t waste a second. He dived back in, his thrusts becoming even more intense as he chased the final peak. Est felt like he genuinely might die from the power of it, his nerves were frayed, his body was spent.

‘What a way to go,’ Est thought dizzily, ‘just getting brutally fucked to death in William’s kitchen.’

Eventually, the tension in William’s body reached a breaking point. He pulled out abruptly, his hand wrapping around his length as he gave himself two sharp shoves. He let out a low cry, his body shuddering as he released everything all over Est’s lower back.

William let out a long, shaky breath, his adrenaline finally beginning to level out. He looked down at Est, who was still draped over the counter and felt a fresh wave of that protective warmth. Without a word, he stepped in, hooked his arms under Est’s knees and back and swept him up into a bridal carry.

Est let out a startled yelp, his arms instinctively flying up to loop around William’s neck for balance. , “Wait-stop! What are you doing? Put me down, I’m heavy.”

William just tightened his grip, a playful, slightly smug grin flashing across his face despite the sweat dampening his hair. He adjusted Est’s weight with ease, stepping away from the kitchen and toward the hallway.

“Didn’t I tell you earlier, when your friend was touching my bicep and you shoved his hand and held me,” William murmured, his voice low and vibrating with a bit of pride. “I have muscles now. I can carry you as long as I want.”

Est looked up at him with a genuine smile on his face. He leaned his head against William’s shoulder, closing his eyes as he let out a contented sigh. “Fine. Show off.”

William carried him through the quiet house, the only sound was the soft thud of his footsteps on the floor. When they reached the bedroom, he didn’t drop him, he lowered Est onto the bed with the same reverence he’d shown at the start of the night. He climbed in right after him, pulling the heavy duvet over both of them and tucking Est firmly against his side.

The kitchen was a mess and their bodies were spent and they still needed to work over so many things in their life and relationship but as William felt Est’s breathing evening out against his chest, he knew they were truly home.