Chapter Text
It was already past midnight in the busy city of Thailand — Bangkok always acted like it never got tired of the noise, the rush, the excitement.
The night sky stretched above like a deep black blanket, with only a few stars glimmering faintly in the darkness. Even the sounds of the late hour felt calming somehow, like the soft clicking of raindrops that should have been annoying in the silence, but wasn’t.
Aou was driving with Boom in the passenger seat, the atmosphere inside the car feeling so undeniably them. Music played quietly in the background while Boom sang along under his breath, barely audible.
“Aou,” Boom murmured, chewing on some crackers he had found in the door pocket.
Aou hummed in response, turning his head slightly toward him.
“I want to go home alreadyyy,” Boom complained, making Aou smile at how adorable he sounded.
“Just a few more minutes, okay?” Aou whispered in response. He knew he didn’t have to ask so softly, almost like he was begging, but pouting Boom was too cute not to spoil properly.
“Okay,” Boom sounded almost surprised, “you owe me a cupcake.”
The song changed, and Aou started singing along louder this time — slightly offbeat and maybe a little too emotionally invested for someone who claimed he was “just listening.”
Boom laughed quietly, leaning his head against the window as the city lights blurred past them in streaks of gold and white.
Then headlights suddenly flashed from the left.
It became bright.
A car shot into the intersection far too fast, tires screeching sharply against the wet road. For a split second, it looked completely out of control — the back of the vehicle sliding sideways as the driver desperately tried to correct it.
“Aou!”
Aou reacted instantly. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he jerked the car hard to the right.
Everything happened at once.
The violent screech of tires. The sickening crunch of metal folding into metal. The force throwing Boom sideways against the door despite the seatbelt digging painfully into his chest.
Something shattered loudly beside them.
For one horrifying second, Boom couldn’t even tell what part of the sound had come from the cars and what part had come from his own body.
Then everything stopped. Not peacefully. Not softly.
Completely.
The engine hissed weakly somewhere in front of them. A warning signal beeped in uneven intervals, piercing through the ringing in Boom’s ears.
“Aou?”
Boom’s voice came out thin and shaky.
His elbow burned sharply where it had scraped against the door, blood smeared across his sleeve, but the pain barely registered once he turned toward the driver’s seat.
Aou’s head had fallen forward unnaturally, his hands still weakly locked around the steering wheel. His breathing came in shallow, uneven pulls like his body had forgotten how to do it properly.
His eyes were open now, barely.
Dazed. Unfocused. Like he still hadn’t understood what had happened.
There were no tears, no screaming — just pure shock written across his face so clearly it made Boom’s stomach twist.
The kind of shock where the pain hadn’t fully arrived yet.
The kind that came with fear first.
“Aou,” Boom said again, voice breaking this time as he grabbed his shoulder carefully. “Hey, hey, look at me.”
Aou inhaled sharply through clenched teeth.
Only then did Boom notice the blood slowly running down the side of his forehead.
The rain started pouring harder, leaving trails of water running down the car windows. Everything outside looked gray, as if the world itself had been drained of color — the dark sky, the dim streetlights, the heavy sound of the storm raging around them.
“Shit, Aou! Can you hear me?”
Aou let out a sound that wasn’t quite a word or a sigh — more like a weak groan, the kind a person makes when they’re too hurt to do anything else.
“Okay, okay…” Boom whispered, trying to calm himself down, even though it felt impossible. Aou could barely speak, blood still running down the side of his face, his head hanging heavily while his eyes struggled to stay open.
Boom took a breath.
Then another.
And another.
His fingers shook as he typed the emergency number on his phone.
The rain that followed him that night wasn’t the romantic kind people wrote songs about. It was cold and merciless, the kind directors put into the background of scenes where everything falls apart.
The ambulance took ten minutes to arrive, and somehow those ten minutes became the longest of Boom’s life.
The sound of sirens and flashing red lights only made his panic worse.
“Doctor… please,” Boom’s voice cracked as he stumbled out of the car toward the paramedics. “We got into an accident and Aou… he’s… he is hurt really badly. Please help him.”
“Calm down, khun. Who are you to the patient?”
“Boyfriend.”
The ride to the hospital felt suffocating.
Doctors spoke to each other in low, hurried voices that Boom could barely understand. Maybe they were talking too quietly. Or too fast.
Or maybe Boom was simply too distracted by the sight of Aou lying there pale and barely conscious, lips parted slightly as he struggled to breathe normally.
“Aou, it’s okay,” Boom whispered softly, brushing his thumb over Aou’s knuckles “You’re doing so well.”
The hospital doors closed behind them before Boom could follow any farther.
And just like that, he was left alone.
The next few hours passed in fragments: cold coffee from a vending machine, doctors walking past him too quickly, hands shaking so badly he could barely hold his phone, rain still falling outside the hospital windows long after midnight had disappeared.
The door of the room he saw Aou last time a few hours ago opened.
“Family of Mr. Aou?”
Boom stood up so fast it almost made him dizzy.
Boom immediately rushed into the room, his cheeks slightly flushed from exhaustion and nerves, his eyes darting from side to side — not looking for anything specific, just trying to find something to hold onto.
Aou was sleeping peacefully in the yellowish lights of the hospital room, not yet awake from the surgery he had just gone through.
“Mr. Boom?”
“Yes,” Boom nodded, sitting closer to the bed.
“Mr. Aou has a concussion, two broken ribs, and a few other injuries which are not that serious. We stitched the wounds, stabilized the fractures, and administered vascular medication. Once he wakes up, he will be given painkillers and sedatives in case he experiences problems with sleep,” the doctor said in a voice that sounded a little too calm, too dry — like he was already used to seeing people suffer.
Boom looked at Aou. His hair was slightly messy and his lips were dry from dehydration and the sterile hospital air.
He looked vulnerable. Small. Almost too young for his age — but not in the way someone looks so beautiful they start to appear younger, but more defenseless.
“Is anything threatening his life?”
“Mr. Aou may experience memory loss and periods of unconsciousness for a while, but that’s normal. He will be fine. He just needs rest.”
“Thank you so much, Mor Zim,” Boom bowed slightly to the older as he left.
Boom stayed by Aou’s side, watching him sleep. In complete stillness, Aou seemed fragile, almost calm except for the slight furrow between his eyebrows.
Boom leaned down and kissed his temple softly, as if he was afraid Aou might break under the weight of his lips.
The light almost left a scar on the eyes as it suddenly cut through the complete darkness of the hospital room.
Aou opened his eyes and immediately failed to understand where he was — the white ceiling looked slightly too dull to belong to his apartment, the walls were covered in strange wallpaper, and the flowers standing in the corner of the room looked tired at best.
He turned his head to the left and noticed the IV attached to his hand. Then he slowly looked to the right and saw Boom.
Sleeping in a position that wasn’t quite sitting but not lying down either. His eyelashes rested softly against his cheeks where the faint blush was already beginning to fade.
Hospital.
The memories of the previous night suddenly began overlapping one another.
The evening at Boom’s place. The late night drive. Then everything turned white and the only sound he could remember was the distant buzzing of sirens.
Last night, Aou had taken Boom for a ride across the city and even when Boom said he wanted to go home, Aou insisted he needed a little more time. And then the accident, the fear, the pain — and now Boom was here.
Probably hurt.
Aou’s thoughts must have been a little too loud because Boom slowly opened his eyes and rubbed them carefully, trying to adjust to the brightness of the sunlit room.
“Aou!” he exclaimed loudly before immediately lowering his voice after realizing it was probably too much. “How are you?”
Aou looked at him as if he was searching for answers to a question he never knew how to ask.
“Fine. You?”
“Are you seriously asking me how I am, Aou? I’m fine. You’re the one with broken ribs and head injuries!”
Aou lowered his eyes to the floor, moving his hand slightly farther away from Boom’s.
“Sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for?”
The hospital room smelled faintly of mint and something citrusy — pure cleanliness mixed with the sharp scent of medicine, the unique smell every hospital ward carried.
“I was so worried. So worried, Aou,” Boom looked at him with slightly teary eyes, brushing his fingers carefully against Aou’s exposed skin, trying to be as gentle as possible.
“Sorry, Boom.”
Aou felt lost. Scared. Confused. Guilty.
The pain spreading through his body felt almost distant compared to the heaviness inside his chest. Something about the accident refused to settle properly in his mind. The memory of Boom sitting beside him before the crash kept replaying over and over again — laughing quietly, singing under his breath, trusting him completely.
Trusting Aou to keep him safe.
And Aou failed.
That thought sat somewhere deep beneath his ribs, sharper than any broken bone. Not loud enough to become panic, not dramatic enough to become tears — just a quiet horrifying realization that something fragile between them had cracked the moment the car lost control.
Boom was still here. Still touching him gently. Still looking at him with worry instead of blame.
And somehow that only made Aou feel worse.
The doctor came into the room just as Aou was a second away from losing touch with reality. The sudden scent of vinyl gloves and alcohol made him leave his thoughts behind and pay attention to the room again.
“Mr. Aou, good morning.”
“Hello, Khun Mor,” Aou murmured.
“How are you feeling? Do you remember anything from last night?”
The doctor’s voice was calm and a bit too quiet for Aou’s liking, making him strain slightly just to hear him properly.
Boom was still nearby — of course he was — the faint scent of his cherry cologne still clinging to his clothes and lingering at the tip of Aou’s nose. His thumb was carefully drawing absent-minded circles on Aou’s stomach through the sheets and fabric of his clothes.
He was warm and gentle. Even if the room was cold, or dark, or quiet, Boom would make it better — warmer, lighter, livelier.
Aou couldn’t really say that he remembered last night clearly — not that he had completely lost the memories, but the scenes felt torn apart and scattered, as if the original sequence had gotten mixed up.
Boom nodded and smiled softly at him, encouraging him to speak.
Aou felt small and seen in a way that made him uncomfortable.
“I remember parts of it. The accident, the sounds, and then… apparently, I got hurt and ended up here. That’s it.”
His voice was dry from sleep or something slightly more bitter — probably the feeling he knew he felt but didn’t understand how to name.
“Okay,” the doctor said, writing something down. “You will need two or three days in the hospital, and then I can send you home if you have someone to help you with the medication and recovery.”
Boom looked up immediately. “I’ll help him, of course.”
Aou never understood how Boom did it, but he always made everything seem clearer — purer. Like nothing was truly a big deal, like every difficult situation was just another life event that wasn’t quite an obstacle, more like a chance to learn something new.
Not that Aou was very different when it came to those things, but he was more of an overthinker — someone who made everything look fine while thinking about every single problem day and night when Boom was sleeping soundly next to him, completely safe and unafraid.
“You don’t have to,” Aou answered, his voice dropping an octave lower as his eyes followed the floor.
“I want to."
The doctor smiled softly at them and placed the medicine on the table nearby, giving a few instructions before quietly leaving the room.
As the door closed, Boom leaned in to kiss Aou's cheek carefully, like a single touch of lips which lingered just a bit too long could have taken away Aou’s pain.
Boom has always been like this.
Caring. Sweet. Clingy. He always payed attention when no one else seemed to care — that is probably one of the reasons Aou always stayed and kept thinking about how pitiful his life would have been without Boom.
“You will be fine, won’t you?” he said sweetly next to Aou’s skin.
“Yeah,” Aou answered, not really unsure, but more like very careful.
It all started 2 years ago, when Aou arrived in Bangkok with no idea how to live or what to do to survive.
He and Boom met at a café, and the story of their love was quite cliché, but there was something beautiful in the way they found each other exactly when they needed it the most.
Aou used to be afraid of everything: new people, new places, and especially new emotions.
Boom made him realize how amazing it could be to live.
To actually live and allow himself to be happy every day.
“I found a movie I like. Should we watch it?” Boom would always ask whenever he discovered something interesting to share with Aou.
And Aou always agreed.
Not because he was pretending to enjoy those things, but because somewhere along the way, watching Boom become excited started feeling more important than the movie itself.
They listened to the music Boom loved because, apparently, Aou didn’t really have a specific taste in genres.
Or maybe Boom’s taste was simply good enough.
Sometimes Boom asked him what he wanted to listen to, and Aou always froze for a second longer than necessary before shrugging softly and saying: “Anything is fine.”
Their first kiss happened a month after they saw each other for the first time.
Boom never seemed to mind taking the lead in whatever kind of relationship they had because as long as he could see Aou smiling, he was willing to take responsibility for everything else.
“Don’t you want to start doing something you like?” Boom asked one evening while rain poured softly outside and they decided to stay at Aou’s apartment.
“I am doing what I like.”
“Which is…?”
Aou smiled lazily. “Dating you, of course.”
Boom laughed quietly at that, but Aou meant every word.
Everything about their relationship felt perfect. They went to restaurants Boom liked and visited places Boom dreamed of seeing.
Aou was always happy to support Boom in whatever he wanted to do, and he never really felt the need to search for something of his own. Making Boom happy — loving Boom in general — already made him feel stable and comfortable in his life.
Sometimes, when Boom talked passionately about cooking or Formula 1 or some random documentary he had watched at three in the morning, Aou simply listened.
Not because he had nothing to say.
But because hearing Boom talk already felt enough to fill the silence inside him.
“But I wish we could find something that’s you,” Boom told him one evening, moving a little closer on the couch.
“Are you possessive of me liking the things you like or what?” Aou didn’t mean for it to sound rude, but the words came out sharper than he intended.
Boom looked at him with an expression that wasn’t exactly confusion, though he didn’t seem to fully understand it himself either.
“Of course not. Why would I be?” he laughed quietly. “I just wish you had something that isn’t about me. Like how I have my F1 races.”
Aou nodded and pouted slightly — he understood perfectly well what Boom was trying to say.
Still, it always felt easier when nobody pointed it out out loud.
Because sometimes, late at night when Boom had already fallen asleep beside him, Aou caught himself staring at the ceiling and trying to think of who he had been before all of this.
And every time, the answer came back painfully blank.
One of them always stayed the night at the other’s place every Saturday — it wasn’t just a routine, more like a tradition.
They usually stayed at Boom’s place because, as Aou said: “It screams you. I like it.”
Boom’s room was decorated with plushies and figures of characters he loved, along with colorful movie posters, photos with Aou, pictures with friends, and random funny prints hanging on the walls. His apartment always smelled faintly of vanilla and something close to chocolate, and the whole atmosphere of the place was unmistakably Boom.
Aou’s room wasn’t like that.
It had a bed with a single bear plushie Boom had given him and a TV standing in front of the sofa in the corner of the room. His apartment looked smaller — not because it actually had less space, but because it lacked something.
Boom once asked why Aou’s apartment looked so empty despite him living there for almost a year.
Aou looked around for a moment before answering: “I don’t know. I never thought about decorating it.”
On some random Sunday they sat on the couch in front of the TV, watching some comedy show Boom had found — though he didn’t actually want to watch that particular one. He had secretly hoped Aou would choose something for once.
And Aou tried. He really did.
He had even planned to order food before Boom arrived and turn the TV on before Boom sat down beside him.
But he couldn’t.
Not because he was lazy or uninterested whatsoever — it was simply easier when Boom was in charge.
The tiny restaurant they visited later that night was almost empty at that hour, filled only with the quiet sound of plates clinking somewhere behind the counter and music playing softly from old speakers.
Boom looked down at the menu before glancing up at Aou.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Anything is fine.”
Boom smiled a little at first, already used to hearing that answer.
“No, seriously,” he laughed quietly. “Choose something.”
Aou hummed absentmindedly and leaned his chin against his palm, eyes moving over the menu without really reading it.
Boom watched him for a few seconds longer than usual.
Normally he would have already chosen for both of them by now, but recently something about moments like this had started bothering him in a way he couldn’t fully explain.
“What sounds good to you?” Boom asked again, softer this time.
Aou opened his mouth slightly before stopping.
The silence lasted only a few seconds, but it felt strangely noticeable.
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “You choose better than me anyway.”
Boom looked at him carefully.
Aou didn’t seem uncomfortable or upset. If anything, he looked completely relaxed — like giving the decision away was the most natural thing in the world.
And somehow that made Boom’s chest ache a little.
“You know,” Boom said lightly while closing the menu, “normal people usually have favorite food.”
Aou smiled lazily. “I do.”
“Oh? Really?” Boom grinned. “What is it?”
Aou looked at him for a second too long before answering: “Whatever you like.”
Boom laughed automatically because the answer sounded sweet enough to pass as flirting. But afterward, while ordering for both of them, he realized something quietly unsettling.
He couldn’t remember the last time Aou had chosen anything first.
Then they watched a movie at home curled up together on the couch.
A funny scene appeared on screen and Boom burst into laughter immediately, loud and unrestrained.
Aou laughed too, but half a second later.
Boom noticed it only because he happened to glance sideways at him. Aou’s eyes weren’t even on the movie at first — they were on Boom.
Watching his reaction.
Waiting for it.
Only after Boom laughed did Aou’s shoulders relax enough for his own laughter to follow.
The realization was small. Tiny, almost meaningless.
Still, Boom couldn’t stop thinking about it.
As if somewhere along the way, Aou had learned to experience things through other people first. Through Boom, to be more specific.
They had been dating for long enough for Boom to finally feel like he could talk to Aou about what had been worrying him.
Because something as sweet as letting Boom choose the park for their picnic and listening to Boom’s playlists at night was slowly becoming alarming.
Somewhere between blushing from flirting and being seen by Aou remembering every little thing he liked, Boom started feeling like the person he loved the most was quietly losing himself.
It wasn’t some awful scenario where one person sacrificed everything for the other, and it wasn’t truly damaging their relationship.
Still.
One day, they were sitting in Boom’s room, lazily scrolling through their feeds, watching funny cat videos and TikToks that were supposed to be educational but looked ridiculous instead.
Boom caught a glimpse of Aou leaning against his shoulder, breathing in his scent as if he needed it like oxygen — as though if Boom disappeared, Aou would disappear too.
It looked almost romantic because everything about Aou’s love leaned dangerously close to devotion.
But there was nothing romantic about someone slowly losing themselves.
“Hey,” Boom said quietly.
Aou hummed in response.
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”
Aou stopped breathing for a second — something he always did whenever he thought too hard, as if the question wasn’t rhetorical or meant for harmless daydreaming, but something deeply serious.
As if he genuinely had to think in order to imagine it.
Almost like he never had before.
“I don’t know,” he smiled softly. “Somewhere near you, probably.”
Boom smiled too.
Later that night, long after Aou had fallen asleep beside him, Boom stayed awake staring at the ceiling, unable to explain why that answer made his chest feel strangely heavy instead of warm.
At Aou’s birthday, they stayed at his condo and had a lovely evening of being close in every way possible, the room was illuminated only by the city lights slipping through the curtains.
Boom was tracing invisible patterns over Aou’s wrist absentmindedly.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you ever want things that have nothing to do with me?”
The question wasn’t accusing. If anything, it sounded careful.
Aou frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know,” Boom admitted quietly. “Sometimes I feel like your whole world bends around other people.”
Aou stayed silent for a moment. The air conditioner hummed softly in the corner of the room.
“I just like making you happy.”
“I know,” Boom smiled weakly. “But I want you to make yourself happy too.”
Aou knew he had this problem — his only goal in life was to make Boom happy, to protect him.
Just like Boom once saved him.
Aou did everything the way he did because he was sure that was how it was supposed to be — as if he had to repay Boom, or maybe the universe itself, for the chance to be happy again.
“You know you can say no to me, right?” Boom murmured, kissing his cheek as their legs tangled together.
“I don’t want to say no to you.”
“But I wish we did things you like sometimes. Can we?”
Aou smiled softly at him and leaned in to kiss his lips, the touch gentle and tingling as his hand found its place on Boom’s inner thigh.
“I like touching you. Can I?”
Boom was almost annoyed, though in the fondest way possible. He knew Aou paid attention to everything he told him, and even if Aou couldn’t always hold serious conversations properly, Boom knew he would try.
“I like it when you do what you like. So.. touch me,” Boom answered, his eyes hooded with affection and attraction, all the love and care he felt for that man shining through them.
Their lips met again, hungrier this time, like they wanted to pour everything they felt into the kiss, if that was even possible.
Aou’s hands were everywhere again, and even if they couldn’t go for a second round right now, the feeling of Aou’s lips against his skin was so, so good.
Boom started noticing how Aou was trying to find his passion not even a week later, when a guitar appeared in Aou’s room.
“When I was younger, I could play some songs. I want to try again,” he said when Boom entered his apartment.
“That’s so nice,” Boom smiled warmly, immediately sitting closer to him on the couch. “I would love to hear you play.”
At first, it was awkward.
Aou forgot chords he supposedly knew by heart, got annoyed too quickly when his fingers hurt, and sometimes left the guitar untouched for days before suddenly picking it up again at three in the morning.
Still, something slowly started changing after that.
Small things. Almost unnoticeable.
Sometimes Aou would actually choose the movie they watched for the night, and even if Boom secretly hated horror films, he still watched every single one with dramatic complaints just to see the quiet satisfaction on Aou’s face afterward.
Sometimes Aou would say: “I don’t really want to go there today.”
And Boom would smile so brightly at something so simple that it made Aou feel strangely nice.
Once, they spent almost twenty minutes deciding where to eat because Aou kept refusing Boom’s suggestions only to finally admit: “I kind of want noodles.”
Boom nearly looked emotional over that.
“You’re rejecting my choices now?” he gasped dramatically. “Look at you growing as a person.”
Aou rolled his eyes, but the smile he tried to hide still appeared at the corner of his lips.
It wasn’t some huge transformation.
Aou still looked for Boom’s reactions first.
Still listened more than he talked. Still built most of his days and decisions around the person he loved.
But now there were tiny pieces of him beginning to exist outside of that.
And Boom noticed every single one of them.
Maybe that was why, on one of the late night rides, when Boom sighed softly and murmured: “I want to go home already…”
Aou hesitated before answering: “Just a few more minutes, okay?”
He chose himself first.