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Chapter Text

The world had started watching him when he was just fifteen—a wide-eyed teenager with freshly dyed hair and eyes too big for his body, debuting as the second lead in a primetime drama. He had smiled nervously at the cameras, bowed at just the right angle, and answered interview questions with all the right amounts of modesty. Since that moment, they never stopped watching.

Now, at twenty-four, Est Supha was no longer just a teenage idol. He was Est Supha: a household name in Thailand and beyond. Actor. Model. Occasional singer. Endorser of everything from high-end skincare to instant noodles. The internet called him "The Nation's Sweetheart." The directors called him a natural. The fans called him their comfort. And all of them watched.

Perhaps even more now.

Est stood behind the velvet curtain of the packed indoor arena, the sound of cheers vibrating through the floor. His heart pounded, not from nerves—he was too used to this by now—but from the echo of adrenaline. The final fan meet of the year. One more photo op. One more smiling wave. One more mask.

He stepped into the spotlight.

"I hope you all had fun today," he said, his voice echoing across the crowd. "Because I did. Thank you, everyone. Love you!"

With a bright smile and a practiced bow, Est stepped off the stage. The applause still rang in his ears as he walked down the hallway lined with posters of his face. Another event done. One of dozens. Hundreds. He had lost count.

Performing in front of thousands had become his life. And he didn’t despise it—not at all. He loved it. Because when the lights hit him just right and the fans screamed his name like a chant, it felt like breathing. Like he was someone again.

Like he wasn't just Est Supha.

Backstage, the air was cooler. Familiar.

"The car will be ready in five," said P'Ko, his manager of almost a decade, tapping at his tablet.

Est nodded absently as he sat in front of the mirror. His face was already half-cleaned by Steffy, his makeup artist. She wiped at the smudged eyeliner with a cotton pad, brows furrowed.

"You sure you're okay?" P'Ko asked, quieter this time.

Est didn't answer at first. He blinked at his own reflection. Something about his face looked unfamiliar. Maybe it was the sleepless nights. Or the breakup. Or the headlines that still hadn’t faded.

"I'm fine," he said eventually. Too quickly. Too practiced.

Steffy clicked her tongue. "He needs actual rest. Not the five-hour kind." She met Est’s eyes in the mirror. "You’re running on fumes. You haven’t had a day off in three weeks."

Est chuckled, soft and tired. Three weeks was generous. In truth, he hadn’t rested properly since the breakup. Since that night in the van when the person who claimed to love him said nothing while reporters screamed questions outside. Since the texts stopped. Since the love turned quiet.

The drive home was uneventful.

City lights blurred past the window as Est leaned against the glass. P'Ko sat in the front passenger seat, scrolling through emails but stealing glances at the rearview mirror every few minutes. He didn’t say anything more, sensing Est’s mood.

Est didn’t mind the silence.

It was better than the noise inside his own head.

They pulled up in front of Est’s apartment around 9 p.m. The security guard stationed at the front entrance gave them a familiar nod. P'Ko turned to Est.

"Want me to come up? Just in case?"

Est shook his head. "I'm good."

He got out, pulling his hoodie up despite the humid air. The black cap and mask might help hide his face, but anyone who really knew him would recognize him by the way he walked alone, hands in his pockets, like he was trying to fold into himself.

Just as he reached the gate, someone called out.

"Est!"

A woman in a casual tee and sweatpants jogged up to him from the sidewalk, her face flushed with excitement. He barely had time to react before she grabbed his arm.

"I knew you'd come home this way," she said breathlessly. "I waited all day! I love you so much, Est. You're everything to me. Look! I brought you these!"

She shoved a stack of neatly wrapped boxes into his hands. Gifts. Too many to carry.

Est froze. Her voice rang in his ears like feedback. His heart kicked up into a sprint. The light from the gate reflected off something shiny in her bag. Keys? A pen? Something sharper?

He couldn't move.

His vision wavered. His hands trembled. His chest tightened.

And then—

Strong arms pulled him away.

"Ma'am, please step back," came a deep voice. It was Sebastian, the security guard. The woman resisted at first, yelling something about being misunderstood. Est couldn’t hear it.

He was on the couch a second later, inside the lobby. Hands gripping his own head. Knees drawn up. Eyes shut tight.

Breathe. Count. Breathe. Count.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five...

Sebastian knelt beside him. "I called P'Ko. He's on his way. Just breathe, okay? You’re safe now."

Est kept counting.

By morning, the news had already exploded.

"Est Supha Attacked Outside His Home by Alleged Stalker."

"Concern Grows for Thai Superstar's Safety."

#ProtectEst trended globally.

His phone buzzed endlessly. Messages from co-stars, family, directors. Even his ex. He didn’t answer any of them.

P'Ko spent the night in Est's apartment. He didn't ask questions. Just made tea and sat on the couch while Est lay awake on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

He didn’t sleep.

He just thought.

And thought.

And thought.

The next day, BH Entertainment called an emergency meeting.

The headquarters, usually loud with interns and stylists, felt muted. In the boardroom, CEO Jin sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled, his expression unreadable.

Est sat across from him, still in the same hoodie from the night before. P'Ko stood beside him, arms crossed.

"Est," Jin began, voice smooth and low, "we're deeply sorry for what happened. Are you alright?"

Est nodded. That was all.

P'Ko spoke next. "If Sebastian hadn’t acted in time..."

Jin raised a hand. "We reviewed the footage. She'd been following him for three blocks."

Sebastian, who stood silently near the door, bowed his head. "I should've been closer. I won't make that mistake again."

"It’s not your fault," Est said quickly. "It’s mine. I should’ve gone straight in."

"Stop blaming yourselves," Jin said firmly. "This wasn’t a fluke. It was bound to happen. You’ve had at least six stalking incidents in the past year. And it’s only escalating."

He opened a folder and slid it across the table.

"That’s why we’re bringing in new protection."

Est frowned. "We already have a security team."

"Not like this one," Jin said. "They’re ex-military. Specialists. They usually handle high-risk clients and... criminal intel work."

Est looked skeptical. "So now I need a bodyguard task force? What next? Cameras in my bathroom?"

Jin didn’t flinch. "We’ve contacted LYKN. You might have heard of them."

Est blinked. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"They’re a five-man team. Highly trained. Discreet. Capable."

"Five?" Est repeated. "That’s a whole boyband."

Jin finally cracked a faint smile. "Well, they do come with visual appeal. Might make fan sightings less terrifying."

Est groaned and slumped back in his seat.

P'Ko leaned in. "It’s either that or house arrest, Est. We can’t take risks anymore."

Est didn’t answer.

He just stared out the glass window at the city skyline.

Somewhere out there, someone knew where he lived. Someone thought they loved him enough to break in. Someone was still watching.

And tomorrow...

LYKN would be watching too.

Chapter Text

The next 24 hours didn’t go by quickly. Not for Est.

It took everything inside him not to scream, throw his phone, or disappear into thin air. The calls were endless. The messages never stopped. The media had swarmed every possible outlet, recycling images and headlines like wildfire.

The only call he took was from his mother. Just to reassure her he was okay, that he was safe. Still, it wasn't enough. His family had already started making plans to fly to Bangkok and come to his apartment, and it took everything in him to convince them otherwise.

First of all, he wanted to protect their safety—his number one rule since fame found him.

Second, he needed space. The kind of space where no one asked questions. Where he didn’t have to explain what it felt like to be touched by a stranger in the middle of the night, and how it left him feeling like his own skin didn’t belong to him anymore.

The media continued contacting BH Entertainment and his manager nonstop. Eventually, the company put out a carefully worded statement saying the stalker had been blacklisted and placed under police custody. It ended with an assurance: Est Supha’s protection will be strengthened moving forward.

As damage control, Est also posted a short message on his Instagram story—or rather, P'Ko did, typing it out and holding the phone in front of Est until he nodded.

> Thank you everyone for your concern. I'm okay. Please don’t worry too much. Love you all.

But just because there was chaos outside didn’t mean the schedules stopped.

Est still had cameras to smile in front of, scripts to read, and songs to record.

By the next morning, Est had barely gotten any sleep. His eyes were burning, his muscles ached, and yet he was already back at the BH headquarters.

Again.

Same glass-walled meeting room. Same cold air-conditioning. Same high-backed chair.

But this time, the lobby was unusually packed. Staff members stood whispering in corners, some pretending not to stare as Est walked in. Others gave over-enthusiastic greetings.

Like nothing had happened the day before.

Life goes on, Est thought bitterly. Doesn’t matter if you’re unraveling. The industry keeps spinning.

That’s how BH Entertainment had become one of the Big 3. Not by coddling stars—but by surviving everything with a smile and a PR statement.

Est moved through the crowd, hoodie up, mask on. Just as he neared the executive wing, he bumped into someone—broad shoulders, expensive cologne, black baseball cap. He looked up.

Jeon Jungkook. The golden pop star.

Est bowed immediately, a perfect 90 degrees. “P’jungkook, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” came a casual reply, paired with a quick wave.

Behind him was someone shorter, platinum blond and glowing even at 9 a.m. Park Jimin. Another industry icon.

Est managed a quick smile and half-wave, only for Jimin to reply with a cool, silky, “Hi,” the kind of voice that sounded like it belonged to a Slytherin prince.

Est didn’t have time to admire either of them because P’Ko suddenly yanked him halfway inside the meeting room by his wrist.

Still, as he twisted around in the doorway, Est caught sight of them—

Five men.

All in black suits. Clean cuts, sharp features, and a presence that screamed control. They weren’t stylists or interns. They looked like they belonged in a movie about hitmen.

New boy group? Est thought. Don’t we already have Jasper? Didn’t we just debut that girl group… Felizzz?

Before he could think more, Jin cleared his throat at the head of the table.

“Est, I trust you know the stalker from yesterday is in custody now,” he said. “There will be no repeats.”

Est nodded without looking at him. That’s a lie. But he didn’t say it aloud.

“Meet LYKN,” Jin said, gesturing to the five figures standing behind him. “The special security team I mentioned. They’re ex-military, private sector now, contracted through an international firm specializing in high-risk clients.”

The name made Est blink. LYKN. Right. That wasn’t a boy band.

“So no new idol group,” Est said out loud, unthinking.

A beat of silence. Then a few muffled chuckles.

Est turned and finally got a proper look.

They didn’t look like bodyguards.

They looked like someone handpicked them from a casting call for Deadly But Hot.

All five stood straight and still, but their presence filled the room. Each had a different air—confident, casual, closed-off, curious. But all dangerous. In a weirdly attractive way.

Jin looked like he was holding back a sigh. “Est, this is LYKN. They’ll introduce themselves.”

One of them stepped forward.

“Nut. Oldest. Field strategist,” he said with a wink and a smile that didn’t match his bulletproof jacket.

The second nodded. “Hong.” That was it.

Oh, cold, Est noted.

The third, cheerful, said, “Tui! Nice to meet you.” His square specs made him look like he belonged in university, not guarding celebrities.

The fourth gave a peace sign. “Lego. Youngest. But I know what I’m doing.”

Bubbly. Probably 19 or 20.

And finally—

The last one stepped forward, posture perfect, expression unreadable.

“William Jakrapatr. Leader. I’ll be in charge of your case.”

Est blinked.

Oh no. He’s hot.

Tall, cool, intense eyes. Dead serious. The kind of guy who probably didn’t smile in photos.

Where the hell did Jin find them?

Before Est could make a sarcastic comment, P’Ko jumped in with the usual pleasantries, introducing himself as Est’s manager. The meeting shifted to logistics. Schedules. Protocol. Contact numbers.

Est tuned out. He kept staring at Jin, hoping to catch his eye and silently scream, We need to talk.

But Jin avoided him.

Smart.

He knew Est too well. Jin had once been an artist too. Before the CEO desk and tailored suits, he had performed on the same stages, lived in the same green rooms. Est respected him. And right now, he wanted to yell at him.

Instead, Est stood up.

The room went silent.

“I’m Est Supha,” he said flatly. “Thank you for accepting our company’s offer.”

He gave the fakest smile in the world and walked straight out.

Before the door shut completely, Jin called after him:

“Just so you know, LYKN starts today.”

P’Ko hurried out behind him, placing a hand on his back. “Don’t make a scene. Please.”

Est didn’t reply.

Behind them, five nearly soundless sets of footsteps followed.

Cats? Ninjas? Est thought. Even cats make noise. These guys are ghosts.

He turned sharply just outside the makeup room.

“You don’t have to follow me inside,” he said. “I don’t need five bodyguards watching Steffy apply highlighter and pick lipstick.”

Before anyone else could speak, William stepped forward.

“Duty is duty,” he said, voice low and steady. “We respect your boundaries. But let us do what we were assigned to do.”

Est blinked. Goosebumps.

Why did his voice sound like something Est could trust? That was dangerous. He didn’t need trust. He needed distance.

Before Est could whip up a snarky comeback, P’Ko stepped in with a solution.

“There’s an unused room next to makeup. They can wait there. We’ll call once you're ready.”

As they walked away, Est could hear Nut whispering something to Lego, followed by a playful shove and a stifled laugh. Tui rolled his eyes fondly.

So they have personalities, Est thought. They weren’t grown in a lab.

Still, something itched at the back of his neck—a lingering weight.

He turned his head slightly, and sure enough, William hadn’t taken his eyes off him.

Not in a creepy way. Just… observant. Focused. Like he was reading Est’s thoughts before he could think them.

Est shivered again, walking into the makeup room.

He slumped into the chair, letting Steffy clip his bangs up.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, noticing the frown.

He stared into the mirror blankly.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” he muttered.

And deep down, just beneath that—

What the hell is wrong with him?

Chapter Text

Est Supha was used to watchful eyes. Ten years of fame ensured that he was never alone. But this—this was different. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and he was already sick of the five so-called ninja cats assigned to shadow him.

It wasn’t like he hated them. Est had grown up with security personnel escorting him in and out of buildings, guarding stages, shielding him from overenthusiastic fans. But this felt different. Too personal. Too close. They weren’t just guarding the perimeter; they were stepping into his moments, his spaces, his silences.

It felt like the mask had to stay on twenty-four seven. And that was never the deal.

And this was only day two.

Est had barely finished sipping his lukewarm black coffee when the company door creaked open, revealing five shadows—silent, sharp, and dressed head-to-toe in black, like a security-themed runway show.

William walked in first.

“Ten minutes late,” Est muttered under his breath, his gaze flicking to the wall clock. Not that he really cared—he just wanted to ruffle them a little. Especially the man in front, who looked like he hadn't smiled in years.

“We waited until your manager confirmed your schedule,” William replied flatly. He didn’t sit down. He didn’t need to. The room bent around his presence anyway.

Est rolled his eyes. “Right. Next time just break in and check if I’m breathing.”

William ignored that.

He placed a black folder on the table. P'Ko, who had appeared from the hallway with his tablet in hand, moved to stand beside him like it was a negotiation.

Lego and Tui offered polite nods as they positioned themselves like trained soldiers—one by the window, the other near the hallway. Nut leaned on the doorframe with all the elegance of someone who had nothing to prove. Hong was already scanning the room, probably memorizing all exit points.

“Since today is LYKN's first full day in charge of your protection, we need to establish ground rules,” William said, opening the folder. His tone was clear, direct. Authority without the shouting.

Est leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. “Wow. Didn’t know I enrolled in the military.”

William barely blinked. “Number one: you are not to leave any location without informing one of us. Number two: no unapproved visitors in your apartment. Number three: in public, at least two of us will accompany you visibly. One will remain undercover.”

Est scoffed. “A stalker touched my arm, not hired a hitman.” He stopped short of going full brat. But just barely.

William looked up. Calm. Controlled. Dangerous.

“Do you know how many celebrities have been hospitalized, or worse, because they underestimated threats?” he said, his voice low. “We’ve handled cases where fans set houses on fire. Where cameras were hidden inside ceiling fans. This isn’t about comfort. It’s about survival.”

Est flinched.

Not because of the words—but because of how they were said. Cold logic. A wall with no cracks.

Before the room could dip further into tension, Lego stepped forward, practically glowing. “Also, just putting it out there, I’ve been a fan since 'Heart that skips a beat.' Can’t believe I’m guarding Est Supha now. Sorry, just had to say it!”

Est blinked, caught off guard. “You watched 'Heart that skips a beat.'?”

“Of course! That crying scene in episode eleven? Gut-wrenching.”

Est let out a soft laugh. “No one ever mentions episode eleven. Everyone talks about the couch kiss.”

“That too,” Lego admitted with a sheepish grin.

Behind them, Nut chuckled. “Ignore the baby. He’s been bouncing around since we got this assignment. As for me, that Milan fashion shoot? Absolute art.”

Est raised a brow. “Are you flirting with me while I’m under surveillance?”

Nut winked. “Multitasking.”

William sighed. Not loud, but enough. “Nut. Lego. Focus.”

Both immediately straightened. “Yes, boss.”

William turned back. “You have a photoshoot across town. We leave in fifteen minutes.”

Est stood. “Cool. I’ll walk down myself.”

“No,” William said. Sharp. Final.

Est didn’t stop. “It’s the underground parking lot. Not a warzone.”

But before he could reach the hallway, William was already beside him. His grip on Est’s arm was firm but not bruising.

“Est,” he said, voice low. “Don’t test us. You want to be safe, or not?”

Est yanked his arm free. His heart jumped—not in fear. In frustration. In something sharper.

“You don’t get to control me.”

William didn’t flinch. “I’m not trying to. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

They stared at each other.

The air cracked like a pulled string.

P'Ko awkwardly cleared his throat. “Okayyy, let’s go together, yeah? William, Hong up front. Nut and Tui flank. Lego, stay close to the car.”

Est bit the inside of his cheek. “Fine.”

The car ride was uncomfortably silent. Est sat by the window, headphones in but no music playing. William was across from him, typing on a tablet. Calm. Focused. Like Est didn’t just almost storm off.

Lego gave Est a little thumbs up every time their eyes met in the mirror. Nut offered a chocolate bar.

“Peace offering,” he said.

Est took it. “You guys aren’t what I expected.”

“We get that a lot,” Tui chimed in from the passenger seat.

The studio was already swarming with paparazzi.

“How do they know I’m here?” Est hissed.

“Schedule leak,” William answered. “Stay close.”

Est tried.

But the flashes were too bright, the crowd too tight. Someone reached for his wrist— a blur of fingers, a spark of fear.

He panicked. Ducking left. Running for the door.

“Est!” someone shouted.

Nut and Hong intercepted the person. William was already at Est’s side before his hand could even hit the door handle.

“What the hell was that?” William snapped.

Est spun, adrenaline burning in his lungs. “I got scared! What do you want me to do, hold your hand and wait to get trampled?”

William didn’t yell. He didn’t need to.

“Next time you break formation, you put yourself at risk. You put us at risk.”

Est swallowed. “It wasn’t on purpose.”

“Intent doesn’t stop a knife.”

Silence. Est looked away, eyes threatening to sting.

Tui stepped in, gently touching Est’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Est nodded.

William exhaled. “We’re not trying to control you, Est. We’re trying to keep you breathing.”

Est said nothing.

For the first time, he had no comeback.

The shoot dragged on for hours.

Outfit after outfit. Lens changes. Lights. Makeup retouches. Hair rebuffed. No time for breaks. He wasn’t even sure which brand this was for anymore—something luxury, probably international. He posed. He smiled. He moved.

All the while, LYKN stood exactly where they had first been placed.

Five statues. Watching. Guarding.

Do they even get tired? Est thought. Who the hell just stands for four hours without blinking?

Still, when water bottles and chairs were passed out at the end, Est had the staff give them to LYKN. Silently. No mention. No eye contact.

He changed into his comfort hoodie and joggers, grabbed his bag, and headed to his evening practice.

The way to the car was worse. Swarming fans. Media shouting. Flashes blinding.

This time, he didn’t break the formation.

Even when he stumbled, he caught Nut’s arm and steadied himself. He didn’t want to see that storm in William’s eyes again.

In the car, Lego finally broke the silence.

“Practice again? No rest?” he asked, genuine concern in his tone.

“After practice,” Est muttered.

“But you never set an end time. How long do you practice?”

“Till I can’t keep up.”

The members exchanged glances.

William finally spoke. “I’ll stay back with Est. The rest of you can rest.”

Hong lifted his hand. “I’ll stay too.”

Nut groaned. “Why are you sending us away?”

Lego pouted. “I wanna see P’Est dance. My fan heart needs this.”

Tui laughed. Est did too.

“P’Est?” Est repeated, brow raised.

Lego blushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“Call me that. It’s been a while since someone did.”

The car fell quiet.

William cleared his throat. “Practice room doesn’t need full guard. We’ll cover it.”

Inside the practice room, Est didn’t look at William. He threw himself into dance. Into vocals. Into reading scripts. For hours.

Staffs came and went.

William stayed.

He didn’t interrupt. Just sat with the other staff. Watching. Listening.

By midnight, Est lay flat on the floor, chest rising and falling fast.

A bottle of stilled water entered his vision.

William.

Est blinked, surprised, then took it. Drank half in one go.

Instead of saying thanks, he muttered, “I prefer sparkling water.”

He wanted to provoke.

He missed how William rolled his eyes. Or how the corner of his lips twitched.

And maybe—just maybe—something in Est settled.

The lines were still drawn.

But sparks were starting to flicker.

Chapter Text

If Est Supha thought being shadowed by five elite security guards was suffocating, he clearly hadn’t considered the hell that would be living with them.

A week blurred by—somehow fast, somehow endlessly slow. Est didn’t even have time to breathe, let alone process the fact that his privacy was now just a myth. With back-to-back photoshoots, rehearsals, and the emotional weight of stalkers looming at the corners of his life, he almost welcomed the distraction. Almost.

Still, the chaos didn’t wait for an invitation.

Fans had started to act bolder. Some claimed they were protecting him; others wanted to own pieces of him. And a terrifying number just wanted to watch. Every second. Every breath. Every bite of food.

Peace? What peace?

When a fan tried to break into his apartment—the second such attempt in a week—BH Entertainment didn’t waste time. A drone caught circling his balcony. A GPS bug hidden in a fake gift box.

No more meetings. No more asking.

Jin, stone-faced, simply told him: “They’re moving in tomorrow. Pack anything you don’t want them to see.”

Est had nothing to hide. Not anymore. Not since the breakup. Not since he gutted his apartment like it was his old self and rebuilt it with steel and glass and silence. It wasn’t a home. It was a fortress.

And now it would be full of strangers.

The next morning, Est watched five duffel bags roll into his minimalistic sanctuary like it was a budget military invasion.

"This place is huge," Nut whistled, tossing his bag on the couch like it was his own. "Didn’t expect you to live like a museum exhibit."

"It was peaceful," Est replied, sipping his coffee like it was a coping mechanism.

Lego was already spinning around under the LED ceiling lights. “Can I pick my room? Can I get one with a window? I swear I won’t scream if I see you shirtless in the hallway. Much.”

Est blinked. “What.”

“Lego,” William said, flatly. “Focus.”

“I am! Just trying to lighten the mood!”

Tui had already wandered toward the bookshelves. “Didn’t think you were the poetry type.”

“I’m not,” Est muttered. “My sister left them here.”

William stepped into the center of the room like he owned it. "We’ll divide responsibilities. Two people rotate night watch. The rest handle day."

Est crossed his arms. “And who decides who sleeps where?”

“I do.”

Est scowled.

But it didn’t matter. Lego had already claimed the room with the best view. Tui set up next door. Nut claimed one with the biggest bed. Hong had slipped away quietly and taken the furthest room.

That left William with the room next to Est.

“How convenient,” Est mumbled.

“I should’ve picked that one,” Lego whispered to Nut. “No windows, but it’s next to P’Est. Shit.”

“Let him sleep in peace,” Nut replied, loudly on purpose.

Est just stared at the ceiling. “Chaos. It’s just the beginning.”

The first night was quiet. Suspiciously so. Est turned in early, avoiding conversation.

Sunday came with no mercy.

Est barreled into the living room in full rehearsal mode, only to find Nut shirtless and brushing his teeth, Lego doing vocal warmups in his pink pajamas, and Tui flipping pancakes.

“I’ve got practice,” Est said, already annoyed.

“It’s Sunday!” Lego said.

“It’s 7AM,” Tui added, flipping another pancake.

“Exactly. Morning vocals.”

The first shared breakfast was a disaster.

Lego nearly set the stove on fire. Tui broke Est’s limited-edition mug. Nut added syrup to his black coffee “as a joke.”

Est nearly screamed.

“You’re security professionals,” he hissed. “Not toddlers.”

Nut placed a hand dramatically over his chest. “We’re very well-rounded individuals.”

William leaned against the counter like a grim statue. Watching. Always watching.

Then Hong, silent as ever, slid a perfect Thai omelette in front of Est.

Est blinked. “You made this?”

Hong nodded.

Est mumbled, “Thanks.”

It was the best omelette he’d had in weeks.

Only William accompanied Est to practice that day. Again.

Est didn’t notice William had secretly shortened the schedule.

He got home earlier than expected, headphones in, staring out the window as the city blurred beneath him.

Soul tired.

The apartment no longer felt like a tomb. It buzzed now—with life, voices, laughter. When he stepped inside, Lego shoved a sugary drink into his hand with a grin. While Tui was seen singing in the hallway.

It was exhausting. But oddly comforting.

Tonight, dinner was shared, just like breakfast. Est hadn’t expected it. Thought the first time was a fluke.

Apparently not.

Nut tried to cook, but William had already ordered food—quietly, efficiently. Est hadn’t even noticed, even though they’d been in the same car.

He was always out of it.

They ate Khao Soi, Sticky Rice and bickered over spicy levels. Est mostly listened. That was all he had to offer.

It had been years since he shared a meal in this apartment.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

He also hadn’t realized LYKN watched him differently. Not like fans. Not like stalkers. With something gentler.

It’s just duty, he told himself.

He wanted to believe it.

After dinner, Est offered to help clean up.

“You just have to sit pretty and do nothing,” Nut teased.

Est rolled his eyes and went to wash his hands.

Later, hoodie up, phone facedown, Est sat alone on the balcony. Wind rustled the plants. The city blinked far away.

He didn’t hear the door open.

Hong appeared beside him, holding two mugs.

He handed one over silently.

Est took it. Chrysanthemum tea.

He didn’t expect that.

“You don’t talk much, huh?” Est said after a while.

Hong shrugged. “I listen better.”

They sat in silence. The kind that didn’t demand anything.

For the first time, Est really looked at him. Noticed the gentle eyes. The quiet strength.

He whispered, almost to himself, “I used to like the quiet. But now... even silence feels too loud.”

Hong didn’t say anything. But he didn’t leave either.

That was enough.

Unseen behind the balcony door, another figure leaned against the frame, shadowed by the dark.

William.

Later that night, Est found his extra blanket folded neatly at the edge of the bed. A new pack of his favorite chewing gum waited on the nightstand.

He didn’t remember putting it there.

He smiled.

Just a little.

Maybe, just maybe, letting them in wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Chapter Text

Est Supha knew the universe had a twisted sense of humor. Because just when he was starting to find a little peace—or at least tolerate having five bodyguards turn his life into a reality show—the past decided to knock.

Literally.

Est had been practicing relentlessly for this night. The TV Gold Awards, an annual staple in his career. He'd participated every year since his debut. From winning "Best Evolving Artist" to "Best Lead Actor," he had come a long way.

But one thing that never changed was how nerve-wracking it felt to perform in front of senior actors and directors. Being an actor and idol meant performing at least one song every year, usually the one he had released most recently. That meant endless days and nights in the practice room, refining every detail.

This year, he was walking in alone.

No co-star by his side. No fake hand-holding. No rehearsed red carpet affection to sell a couple fantasy. He was single. Scandalized. Still slightly bruised. And returning to the very arena that once cheered him, loved him—and watched him fall.

The worst part? Not a single person had reached out when things crumbled. Not one message, not one call. No support from his so-called friends in the industry. Everyone had been too busy leveraging his downfall to climb a little higher.

He didn't blame them. Not really. This was a brutal, competitive world. Everyone was trying to survive.

But tonight, he wanted to prove that he could survive too—without anyone's help. Without fake smiles and plastic sympathy.

He had rehearsed relentlessly for the night’s performance. His newly released single had done well enough on the charts, but this performance wasn’t about numbers.

It was about reclaiming control.

For ten minutes, he planned to pour everything into that stage. The heartbreak. The isolation. The anger. Even if his set had been trimmed down from thirty minutes to ten. Even if industry whispers suggested he was “lucky” to even be nominated this year. Even if the polite smiles around him still held quiet judgment.

Est would make them look. He would make them listen.

Because if there was one thing Est Supha knew how to do—it was survive.

He would still stand tall.

The award night shimmered like a jewel box—velvet carpets, flashing cameras, gowns trailing like dreams, and tuxedos sharper than knives. Est walked the red carpet in a designer suit that made him look more pretty than handsome. His waist cinched perfectly. His skin flawless. His lips tinted a cherry red. He held his head high, steps measured, gaze unreadable.

The crowd screamed. Cameras clicked like fireworks. But his eyes remained distant.

He knew how to pose. He knew how to smile. He knew how to wear the mask.

Behind him, LYKN followed in tailored black suits—William, Nut, Hong, Tui, and Lego. All of them clean-cut, expressionless. The public mistook them for staff. Or backup dancers.

But Est knew better.

They were his wall.

His chosen safety.

"You look tense," William murmured as they entered the venue, cameras finally behind them.

"I'm always tense," Est replied dryly, though his jaw clenched tighter than usual.

They walked through the grand hallway, the chandeliers reflecting gold off the polished floors. Golden lighting, plush red seats, murmurs and perfume and ego wafting through the air. The crowd sparkled with top stars. And gossip, as always, flowed like champagne. Est took his assigned seat near the front, surrounded by label mates and industry seniors. He was nominated tonight. Best Actor in a Leading Role.

For a drama that nearly broke him.

Behind him, One table whispered about the rumored breakup between a rising screenwriter and his composer boyfriend.

Another speculated about who was secretly living together.

And somewhere in the back, a manager confidently told a newcomer:

“You didn’t hear it from me, but Jimin and Jungkook from BH? They’re dating. Lowkey confirmed. The ‘matching rings’ soft launch did numbers.”

Est wasn’t listening.

Because his stomach had twisted into a knot.

Because Krit was in the room.

He felt it before he saw him.

The air shifted. A sudden tension crept into the space like static.

And then—

There he was.

Krit.

Dressed in navy blue, hair slicked back, face glowing under stage lights. The charismatic smile he always wore like armor still intact.

Est's ex.

A top-tier actor from one of the biggest agencies.

The one who had promised privacy but vanished when things got hard.

The one who watched from the sidelines as Est burned alone.

All five members of LYKN noticed the shift immediately. William followed Est's gaze. When he saw Krit approaching, his body straightened like a drawn arrow.

"Est-ah," Krit greeted, crouching beside his seat like nothing had changed. "You look… thinner. Are you eating well?"

Est swallowed hard. Forced a practiced smile. "Thanks for the concern. Awards night suits you."

Krit chuckled, like they were still lovers sharing a joke. "Still sharp-tongued. I miss that."

Before Est could respond, William stepped in.

"Excuse me. Can I help you find your seat?"

Krit turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "And you are?"

"His security," William said, calm as still water. But his eyes? Fire.

Krit smirked. "Bodyguards? Always the dramatic one, Est."

Nut began walking over, slow but deliberate. Tui hovered at the aisle, sharp-eyed. Hong stood in the back, arms crossed.

Est stood up too fast. "I’m getting some air."

William moved with him instantly.

Krit raised a brow. "Still need someone to hold your hand, huh?"

Est didn’t respond.

They walked.

Cameras flashed. Phones recorded. Someone whispered his name as he passed.

But Est didn’t stop until they reached the balcony.

The night was crisp. Stars scattered across the sky like secrets.

Est leaned over the railing, breathing hard.

"I’m fine," he muttered.

William didn’t say anything for a while. Just stood beside him.

Then, quietly, "You don’t have to pretend with me."

Est stared at the city lights. "I’m not. Just don’t want to make a scene."

"He shows up and acts like nothing happened. And you have to swallow it?"

Est gave a bitter smile. "That’s the industry. We bleed behind closed doors."

William leaned against the railing beside him, their shoulders nearly touching. "Let him try anything. He won’t get near you without going through all five of us."

Est glanced at him.

And for the first time that evening, he smiled.

"Thanks, soldier boy."

When the award show began, Est was announced as the third performer of the night. He stood up, heart hammering, and made his way backstage. He adjusted his in-ears, checked his mic twice, and swallowed the lump in his throat.

When the lights dimmed, a hush fell over the audience.

And Est took the stage.

The first piano notes filled the air — melancholic, sharp, echoing in the vast hall.

Est stood in the spotlight alone, wearing an elegant all-white outfit that shimmered under the lights. As he sang the opening lines of the ballad, his voice didn’t just carry — it cut.

Each word was crisp, trembling with emotion. Lyrics about betrayal, about rising from the ashes, about choosing silence over vengeance — they weren’t just lyrics.

They were his.

Est didn’t just perform. He bared. He moved slowly across the stage, his hands trembling slightly, not out of nerves but emotion. In that moment, he wasn’t Est Supha the idol. He was Est Supha the human — cracked, but not shattered.

When the instrumental built up and the bridge hit, Est's voice soared. A silent gasp rippled through the crowd.

People who had ignored him months ago now sat stunned.

Even some senior directors leaned in, murmuring to each other.

A few fans from other fandoms stood.

When the final note rang out, Est stood still, chest rising and falling, face damp with sweat, but eyes defiant.

The applause started slow.

Then it roared.

He bowed. Not low. But deep enough.

He didn’t smile.

He walked off stage like a king.

Backstage, he nearly collapsed — but Lego handed him a water bottle before he could.

"You killed it," Nut whispered, genuinely. "You shut every mouth in that room."

Est nodded once. "Thanks."

And yet... his heart hadn’t stopped racing.

Because he was still there.

Est returned to his seat, glowing. Exhausted, but alive.

Jasper’s performance was next. Crowd went wild.

Jeon Jungkook followed soon after. Even Est couldn’t suppress a fangirl moment when the first beat dropped. "He’s unreal," he muttered under his breath.

Behind him, someone whispered, “He’s winning tonight. No doubt.”

“Yeah, but did you see Est’s set? Gave me chills.”

“I think Jimin’s in the crowd. BH power couple moment?”

Industry gossip never slept.

He bowed to seniors. Greeted juniors. Stayed polite.

He hadn’t been ignored by anyone. That was a relief.

Just as he was about to zone out, Daou—his best friend and a T-pop giant—slid into the seat beside him. Not his assigned seat.

"I’m buying you a new phone," Daou declared.

Est groaned. "Not this again."

"You don’t answer calls. You don’t text. What are you? A ghost?"

"Daou. Please. We’re in public."

"Yeah. Publicly ignoring your best friend. I’m wounded."

Est rolled his eyes. "You’re being dramatic."

"I’m being concerned. Big difference."

Est laughed, leaning back.

Daou patted his shoulder. "Call me after this. Or I’ll leak your childhood photos."

Est mock-gasped. "You wouldn’t."

"Try me."

With a wink, Daou returned to his seat.

The awards resumed.

Est didn’t win. He clapped anyway.

Krit did.

Best Supporting Actor.

As he walked on stage, he glanced toward Est. That same look. Like something was left unsaid.

Est didn’t flinch.

He just kept clapping.

Because he wasn’t alone anymore.

He wasn’t breakable.

He had LYKN. Just a few steps away. Watching.

Especially one.

Standing ahead of everyone else.

Never looking away.

He saw everything.

The ride back home was quiet. Not the awkward kind — just weighted.

The city passed by in a blur outside the tinted windows, lights flickering like memories they weren’t ready to unpack. Est sat with his head leaned gently against the glass, lashes lowered, fingers loosely curled on his lap. He hadn’t spoken much since they left the venue. Not even when Lego offered him water or when Nut made a half-hearted joke about the number of fans screaming louder for William than for actual award winners.

Everyone in the van respected the silence.

Because sometimes silence wasn’t a void. It was armor.

William, seated beside Est, remained still. His eyes occasionally flicked toward the man next to him, quietly watching the way Est’s chest rose and fell in that too-still rhythm. He wanted to ask if Est was okay.

But the answer was already written across his face.

When they reached the apartment, they moved inside like practiced shadows. Shoes lined up by the door. Lights dimmed low. Tui quietly took the dishes from the kitchen sink. Hong headed to his room with a low nod. Lego mumbled something about a night mask and vanished down the hallway. Nut disappeared mid-yawn.

Est stood by the hallway, gaze lingering on the door to his bedroom.

But he didn’t go in immediately.

William, just a few steps behind, slowed down without realizing — his fingers hovering over his own doorknob, his body tuned instinctively to Est's presence.

And then—

Est turned slightly, just enough to meet William’s eyes under the soft yellow light.

“I just wanted to say…” he began, voice softer than the silence they'd been wrapped in all night. “Thank you.”

William blinked. The words felt so simple, but from Est, they meant everything.

Before he could respond, Est added — quickly, like ripping off a bandage — “Not just for today. For… being there. Even when I act like I don’t need it.”

He didn’t wait for William to answer.

Est turned and slipped inside his room, closing the door with a quiet click. Like he was afraid that if he stayed a second longer, he might say more. Or worse — hear something that would break the last wall he'd been holding up.

William stood frozen in the hallway, blinking once, twice.

Then, finally — a small smile ghosted his lips.

Not the smirk he wore in public. Not the practiced kind.

This one was soft. Real.

Because for the first time since they met, Est hadn’t looked at him like a bodyguard.

He’d looked at him like a person.

Chapter Text

Est Supha had grown used to being watched.

It came with the job. Cameras. Scripts. Fan eyes. Managers. Labels. There wasn’t a part of his day that wasn’t timed, captured, and dissected.

But what he could never get used to was the feeling of being hunted.

And this morning, it settled into his bones like a sickness.

After award show days, Est usually slept in late. Maybe the whole day. That was his routine—sleeping off the week’s worth of exhaustion. Piled-up stress, rehearsals, obligations. He’d disappear into his blankets and let his body collapse.

But today, he woke up early. Far too early.

He would’ve rolled over and gone back to sleep if it weren’t for one thing—the silence. That unusual, uninviting silence.

Ever since LYKN had moved in with him for protection, chaos had become the new normal.

The sun hadn’t even fully risen yet. Est shuffled out of his room, expecting the usual noise—Nut microwaving tea like a war crime, Lego dancing to looping K-pop tracks in ridiculous pajamas, Tui flipping pancakes while threatening bodily harm over stolen syrup.

But this morning, the apartment was still.

No music. No clatter. No movement.

Even the espresso machine was quiet.

Est padded barefoot across the polished floor, hair damp from a quick shower, his oversized white tee slipping off one shoulder. The quiet pressed against his chest, too heavy, too familiar. The way it used to feel—when he came home to no one.

Then he saw it.

All five LYKN members were clustered around the dining table. Phones scattered. A laptop casting a dim glow. William stood like a shadow behind them, arms crossed tight. Nut was hunched over something small on the table.

Est’s black duffel bag sat in the middle.

He paused in the doorway.

"...What’s going on?" he asked, voice raspy with sleep.

They all turned to him at once.

Tension crackled like static.

William straightened. "Sit down."

Est blinked. "I'm not a trainee. Just tell me—"

"Est," Nut interrupted, his usual playfulness gone. "Please. Sit."

Something in his tone made Est obey.

Hong slid a small object across the table toward him.

A tracker.

Small. Circular. Military-grade. A blinking red dot pulsing like a threat.

"We found it inside the lining of your bag," Tui said, voice clipped.

Lego—surprisingly quiet—added, "Not some cheap GPS from a fan site either. This one’s serious. This… this is pro-level."

Est stared.

"How long has it been there?" he asked, hating the way his voice wavered.

"At least a week. Maybe longer," William answered. "We compared movement logs. It’s been reporting since your award rehearsals."

"Everywhere you’ve been," Nut added. "Your agency. Studio. The café you went to last Tuesday. Even your family home."

Est’s hands curled into fists in his lap.

The laptop screen glowed brighter now, showing a map littered with red dots—footprints of his every step. His personal life, his hiding spots, his breath—all broadcasted to someone.

His chest tightened.

It wasn’t just paranoia anymore.

It was real.

He swallowed hard. "Do we know who?"

"Not yet," Hong replied, voice flat. "But whoever planted it? They were close enough to get access. And careful enough not to leave traces."

Est stood up, too fast. The chair scraped loudly across the floor. The air felt thinner, the walls more suffocating. His balance wobbled for a second.

William stepped forward. "Est—"

"I just need a second."

He walked out to the balcony, clutching his oversized tshirt around himself, the morning air biting cold. He leaned on the railing. He could barely breathe.

This wasn’t a fan being overly excited. This was calculated. Sickening.

And it wasn’t the first time someone had made him feel unsafe.

Krit had once whispered promises under breathless kisses.

“I’ll protect you.”

Back then, Est had believed him. Had believed in late-night ramen dates, in holding hands in the back of vans, in hotel rooms where love was allowed to be gentle. In quiet mornings where all they had was each other.

But then came the rumors. The photos. A tabloid leak.

Panic set in—not in Est, but in Krit.

Est had begged him. “We’ll deny it. Ride it out. Together.”

Krit had looked at him like he was asking too much.

“We always knew this would be risky.”

“Risky for who? Me?”

The next day, the headlines read:

KRIT SHUTS DOWN RUMORS: “WE’RE JUST FRIENDS.”

Est had been left to drown in the backlash alone.

Alone again.

Just like now.

Except… he wasn’t.

He hadn’t noticed William stepping onto the balcony until now.

“Don’t,” Est murmured, voice tight. “Not now.”

But William didn’t move closer. Didn’t speak. Just stood nearby. A presence. A wall.

Est gripped the railing harder.

“I hate this,” he whispered. “Being scared to sleep. Scared to smile. Scared to trust people."

The silence was heavy.

Then William spoke, voice low. "You don’t have to be scared alone."

Est turned slightly. “And then what? I’m supposed to be okay with five people babysitting me for the rest of my life?”

“No,” William said. “Just let us be here. That’s all.”

Est didn’t respond. But he didn’t walk away either.

There was something shifting. Quietly. Softly. Like breath under skin.

He was scared.

Because in the end, everyone leaves.

But William… stayed.

Est closed his eyes.

One. Two. Three.

He let himself breathe.

There was no schedule that day.

Normally, he would’ve slept through the entire thing. But today, sleep evaded him. Every corner of his room felt watched. The walls too thin. The silence too loud.

No one knocked.

But every hour, someone left something outside his door.

A cookie.

A juice box.

A hand-written note in Lego’s disastrous handwriting: We’re here, okay?

Est didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

These five boys—strangers just weeks ago—had become the closest thing to warmth he’d felt in a long time.

That night, they revamped the entire security system.

William added a second lock to Est’s balcony door. Tui reprogrammed the front gate. Nut started sleeping with one AirPod in, connected to apartment comms. Hong kept a delivery log on a whiteboard now. Lego made a chore chart, mostly for jokes—but it listed “Protect Est” at the top in glittery ink.

No one said it aloud.

But they were scared too.

Est tried to skip dinner.

“I’m just tired,” he’d said, pulling the blanket over his head.

Tui didn’t listen.

He dragged him out by the wrist.

“What are you, a monk in training?” Nut said, trying to lift the mood.

Est stared at him blankly.

Nut held up his hands. “I know. Serious situation. But sulking in silence won’t fix anything. Come sit down.”

Lego chimed in, “I even skipped my favorite drama rerun for this.”

“You watch it every day,” Hong said, deadpan, flicking Lego’s forehead.

“I’m the youngest. Let me be dramatic,” Lego pouted.

Est chuckled.

Soft. Quiet. But audible.

Everyone paused.

“I was just shaken,” Est said, eyes fixed on his plate. “But I feel better now. Thank you. All of you.”

William, from the end of the table, said quietly, “It’s only human to feel that way.”

All heads turned toward him.

“What?” William blinked.

“Nothing,” Nut muttered, fighting a grin.

Dinner passed in soft banter and comfort food. Lego’s favorite series played on the TV in the background. Est wasn’t alone in his silence anymore.

This was comfort.

He’d spent his life trying to console himself. Telling himself he didn’t need anyone.

But these five had barged into his life. And maybe—he didn’t mind anymore.

Later that night, when the others had gone to bed, Est remained awake.

He sat on the floor beside his bed, hoodie pulled over his head, staring at the black screen of his phone.

There was a knock.

William stepped inside.

He didn’t ask questions.

He simply sat beside him. Quiet. Mirroring his posture.

Time passed. Steady. Still.

Est finally spoke.

"What if I’m never safe again?"

William didn’t answer with words.

He reached over and placed a folded blanket on Est’s lap. Left his hand resting lightly. No pressure. Just presence.

They sat like that.

Breathing. Thinking.

And when William finally stood to leave, he paused at the door.

“I meant what I said. You’re safe. As long as I’m here.”

Est didn’t reply.

But he didn’t cry that night, either.

He slept later than usual. But this time, not from fear.

From hope.

From warmth.

He dreamed of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of morning chaos.

Of soft pancakes.

Of smiles.

And William.

Always standing just close enough.

To catch him if he falls.

Chapter Text

Est Supha didn’t know what was worse: being stalked or being told to go on a date with William Jakrapatr to trap said stalker.

Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

Who even comes up with a fake date plan to lure out a stalker? God. And in public, no less. Whoever suggested this clearly had no regard for Est’s peace—or his already crumbling PR image. Another scandal was the last thing he needed right now.

It hadn’t even been three months since the last one. Est still got headaches thinking about it—paparazzi hounding his every step, reporters twisting every word, fans picking apart his silence. He had only just begun to stitch together the pieces of his public image.

And now this?

“We don’t even have chemistry,” Est muttered, slouched on the living room couch, scrolling through his phone with the most dramatic look of indifference he could muster.

“Yeah, because you’re too busy avoiding eye contact every time I breathe,” William replied dryly, lounging nearby with arms crossed like this was a casual Tuesday.

Est hurled a pillow at him.

But the plan had been finalized. The arrangements made. No room for protest anymore. LYKN’s security team, Est’s manager, and even Est’s own agency had reluctantly agreed—this was their best shot. They needed the stalker to show themselves. And if putting Est on a very fake, very public outing with his very stoic bodyguard-slash-fake boyfriend would do the trick?

So be it.

To avoid drawing too much attention, the mission-date was scheduled for the evening. Quiet streets. Soft lights. Crowds light enough to blend into, but not so empty as to make their presence suspicious.

And now here Est was.

Sitting stiffly beside William in a car with tinted windows, dressed down in the most casual outfit his stylist could put together without making him look too far off-brand. A cream knit sweater that slipped slightly off one shoulder, faded jeans that hugged a little too well, and a soft beige bucket hat pulled low over his face.

He looked… soft. Approachable. Fake-date ready.

William, on the other hand, looked like he’d walked straight out of a K-drama final episode. Black jeans, crisp white shirt, rolled-up sleeves. His hair perfectly tousled. Just unfair levels of aesthetic.

“Try to look like you like me,” William murmured as the car slowed to a stop.

Est scoffed. “That would be easier if you weren’t acting like a smug idiot.”

William didn’t even look at him. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not—!”

“You are.”

Est turned away, teeth clenched. This was going to be a disaster.

The plan was simple: visit a local flower-themed café known for its romantic ambiance, then take a slow walk along the nearby riverwalk. Act natural. Laugh a little. Hold hands if they had to. LYKN’s members would be stationed around the area in plain clothes, and the extended security team would be keeping tabs through live surveillance.

It was neat. Clean. Safe.

It should’ve been easy.

Except it wasn’t.

Because the moment Est stepped into the pastel-pink café, with William’s hand hovering protectively at the small of his back, the world shifted.

Not because of the mission. Not even because of the stalker.

But because Est had forgotten what it felt like—to be guided so gently.

The smallest touches. The way William pulled out the chair for him without asking. How he remembered Est’s coffee order—two sugars, no cream—and his favorite pastry from the café’s menu.

It was the little things. The kind no one remembered about Est anymore.

And that was dangerous.

“Do you think anyone’s watching?” Est whispered as he stirred his drink, gaze flicking toward the café window.

William didn’t even glance up. “They always are.”

Est laughed under his breath, short and soft. “You sound like a villain.”

William finally looked at him. “I sound like someone who knows how this works.”

They fell into quiet conversation. Light banter. A shared joke about Lego crying over his favorite series being spoiled. William teased Est about his ridiculous taste in perfumes. Est shot back with jabs about William’s too-neat hair.

Time passed quicker than Est expected. He had laughed. Twice. Maybe more.

He didn’t realize he had relaxed until William’s hand grazed his fingers. Barely a touch.

“Behind us,” William murmured. “Gray hoodie. Phone at an angle. Holding it too long.”

Est stiffened.

Reality snapped back into focus.

Back to the mission.

“Do we go now?” he whispered.

“Yeah. Stick close. Let’s walk.”

They left the café together, their hands almost brushing as they stepped into the golden hues of early evening. The riverwalk glowed softly. Lanterns swayed in the breeze. Couples passed by holding hands. Children ran ahead of their parents.

For a second—just a second—Est let himself pretend.

That this wasn’t a mission.

That this wasn’t William being assigned to protect him.

That maybe, this was just a normal day. A normal date.

And that’s when it happened.

A camera flash.

Quick. Subtle. But unmistakable.

William moved before Est could react—his arm sliding around Est’s waist like it was the most natural thing in the world, pulling him slightly closer as they continued walking.

Two more flashes. Maybe three.

By the time they reached the car, the damage was done.

They had been caught.

Back at the apartment, Est sat in stunned silence as his phone exploded with notifications.

Articles. Tweets. Screenshots.

“Est Supha Caught in New Dating Scandal!” “Top Actor Spotted With Mystery Man — But Fans Know That Back Profile Anywhere.” #ProtectEstSupha trending in under ten minutes.

“My manager is going to kill me,” Est muttered, phone dropping to his lap.

William, seated beside him on the couch, seemed thoroughly unbothered. “On the bright side, we flushed out the stalker. Nut caught him near the bridge. Tui’s got him in custody.”

Nut, leaning against the doorway, grinned. “You should’ve seen it. I full-on tackled that guy. Olympic-level form. Someone get me a gold medal.”

Lego flopped onto the other armrest dramatically. “Credits go to me. Obviously. My outfit planning? Iconic. We looked perfectly low-key.”

“Low-key, my ass,” Hong muttered from the kitchen. “With your all-black gloves and anime mask, we looked like thieves.”

“But we got him,” Lego said, undeterred.

“Only because the stalker was too busy drooling over these two’s date,” Tui chimed in, smirking.

Est sat up, alarmed. “Fake date.”

Tui nodded mockingly. “Yeah yeah, fake date.”

“But—”

“You’re more worried about the picture?” William asked calmly, eyes still fixed on Est.

Est met his gaze—and froze.

William didn’t look anxious. Or alarmed. Or anything close to panicked.

He looked… soft. Steady. Unshaken.

“You’re not worried?” Est asked. “Your company—”

“I already told PR it was for a campaign,” William said simply.

“You lied?”

“It wasn’t a lie,” William replied. “I am campaigning.”

Est narrowed his eyes. “Campaigning for what?”

William’s lips curved—gentle, unreadable.

“You.”

Est forgot how to breathe.

Lego coughed from behind him. “Are we watching a real-time drama right now? Do I need popcorn?”

William stood abruptly. “That’s enough teasing. Time to sleep.”

He left the room before Est could respond.

And yet, the silence lingered. Teasing died down. Est sank deeper into the couch, tugging the throw pillow against his chest.

What even was his life?

That night, Est didn’t stay up reading through the gossip. He didn’t open the thirty-six messages Daou had sent him, all filled with screenshots and one long voice note of pure screaming.

He just lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

He knew it was fake.

He knew it was a mission.

He knew it wasn’t real.

But then why… why did he remember the way William looked at him through the café window, like Est was the only person in the world that mattered?

Why did he remember how William never flinched at the chaos?

And why… did it make him feel safe?

The next morning, he woke up early. Sunlight spilled into the living room as he curled up on the couch with a blanket, coffee untouched beside him. He scrolled past the hashtags. Past the trending news. Past the comment threads.

Until he paused.

One blurry photo had gone viral overnight.

A café window. Soft light.

Est was laughing.

Head tilted back, lips parted in a smile that was lazy, unguarded — real in a way that had become rare.

And beside him, William.

Eyes fixed on Est with such quiet, undisturbed affection that the whole world blurred at the edges. As if nothing else existed in that moment. As if Est was the only thing he could see.

Est stared at the photo for too long.

His chest ached.

Not from fear.
Not from dread.

Something softer.
Something dangerously close to warmth.

He saved the photo.

Created a new folder in his phone — tucked away where no one else could find it.

A secret.

A memory.

And maybe...
A new kind of hope.

Chapter Text

A nice day. A chill day.

That’s what P'Ko had promised when he arrived at Est’s apartment early in the morning with an easy smile and a reminder: “You’ve got an interview scheduled. Nothing stressful, I swear.”

Est had almost believed him.

After everything—award shows, fan chaos, and the recent fake date scandal that nearly blew up Twitter—Est was just grateful things hadn't spiraled. BH released a vague but professionally worded statement claiming the cafe incident was part of a "real-time campaign project." And while some skeptics were still stirring the pot, fans had rallied.

#ProtectEstSupha trended for over twelve hours. That alone had made Est feel oddly at peace.

The fake date hadn’t shifted anything dramatically—not with LYKN, and definitely not with William. And yet, something unspoken lingered. Like an echo.

Today, as always, the LYKN boys would join him on set. The studio wasn’t a cold white cube with harsh lighting and staged perfection. Instead, it felt warm—like someone’s retro living room. Cozy couches, glowing lamps, pastel props. And Est, in his pastel blue sweater and loose jeans, looked like he belonged there.

He ignored William’s gaze the whole time. Five centimeters. That was all it took for Est’s brain to short-circuit, so he stuck to his script, earbuds in, reviewing the Q&A sheet P’Ko gave him.

The questions were typical. Some repetitive, some safe. But Est knew better than to trust what was on paper. Interviews always held landmines.

Still, today seemed... quiet. Which made him suspicious.

Behind the camera setup, LYKN had fully taken over the green room. Nut was emptying the snack basket like a man on a mission. Lego had discovered a drawer full of old sunglasses and was trying every single one. Tui was pretending to film a behind the scene vlog for their nonexistent YouTube channel, and Hong sat on the couch with headphones in, silently judging everyone, as usual.

Est watched them from his seat in front of the camera and laughed. The interviewer, a woman in her 30s with a friendly smile, noticed.

“Nervous?” she asked.

“Not really,” Est said. “I’m used to chaos. I live with five of them.”

She chuckled and began. The questions started light. His recent drama. His favorite hobby. Any plans for new dramas. The mood stayed relaxed, the lighting soft.

Then came the curveball.

“What makes you happy these days?”

Est paused.

Normally, he’d say something silly. Sleeping in. Long showers. Mango sticky rice. Something surface-level to keep things light.

But this time, he said: “My friends.”

The interviewer tilted her head. “Anyone in particular?”

Est smiled faintly. “The ones who’ve stayed.”

Cryptic, maybe. But honest.

The camera kept rolling.

William was behind the lights. Not saying a word, but watching. Always watching. And when their eyes met, Est felt the breath catch in his chest. For one heartbeat, the world felt smaller. Like the room had melted down to just them.

He blinked away. Refocused.

When the interview ended, P’Ko clapped. The interviewer thanked him. Est bowed politely. Everyone relaxed.

Instead of heading straight back home, they detoured. Lego had sulked the entire morning about wanting boba, so the group ended up in a tacky bubble tea shop with flickering neon lights and a weirdly sticky floor.

“Est, you didn’t even stutter once,” Tui praised.

“Character development,” Nut added.

“Praise me more,” Est replied, sipping his taro milk tea.

Nut stole his straw.

“Hey—!”

“Too sweet,” Nut muttered, making a face.

“Get your own, you thief.”

Lego leaned toward Tui and whispered loudly, “They’re definitely flirting.”

“We’re literally right here,” Est deadpanned.

“Not denying it though,” Lego said, grinning.

Est opened his mouth to argue, only to catch William glancing at his untouched drink, seemingly uninterested.

Oh. Right. Est stared down at his milk tea.

This isn’t real. None of this was in the contract.

Or maybe he was just overthinking. Again.

Back home, everyone splintered into their usual chaos. Nut disappeared into his room screaming about some online game. Tui and Lego were bickering over remote control rights. Hong shut himself in his room, guarding his peace. Est grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge.

Then, William appeared.

No fanfare. Just leaned against the counter beside him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Today was good,” Est said, keeping his eyes on the fridge door.

“Yeah,” William said. “You looked happy.”

Est blinked. “Do I not usually?”

William didn’t answer right away. “Sometimes... you try too hard to look happy.”

That landed heavier than Est expected. He didn’t reply.

Instead, when he brushed past, his fingers skimmed against William’s hand. Brief. Barely there.

“Thanks. For staying close.”

William didn’t say anything. But he didn’t pull away.

Est went to bed that night with a fluttering feeling in his chest. Not quite joy. Not quite fear. Something in between.

Lying on his side, he scrolled through fan edits from the interview preview clips. Someone had already posted a slow-mo clip of him laughing with the song Until I Found You playing in the background.

He rolled his eyes.

And saved it.

He was about to sleep when his phone buzzed again. A new notification.

A media tabloid site. One he hated. One that never brought anything good.

His stomach dropped.

> “Leaked Voice Clip: Est Supha Admits He’ll ‘Never Stop Loving’ Actor A”

> “Scandal King Returns? Est’s Past Relationship Resurfaces Amid Recent Dating Rumours”

> “Est Supha: Just Another Pretty Face or Something to Hide?”

He clicked.

He should’ve stopped himself.

The voice recording played.

His voice.

“I’ll never stop loving you, Kri—” click — cut off.

Everything stopped.

Est sat there, frozen. He remembered when he said it. The hotel hallway. Tears. Desperation.

He knew who had leaked it.

Krit.

His past. His mistake. His vulnerability.

Everything he had worked so hard to bury had been dug up again.

He couldn’t breathe.

His fingers clenched around the phone. The room spun.

One. Two. Three—

Not working. He was hyperventilating.

Like drowning.

Like the walls were closing in.

He didn’t hear the door open.

Didn’t see the figure rush toward him.

Only felt strong hands. One on his shoulder. The other cradling the back of his head.

Warmth. Firmness.

William.

One.

Two.

Three.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

Est remembered waking up excitedly every Sunday because that was the day his dad would take him to the beach. He remembered being five, how his father had started teaching him to surf. He loved the sea more than anything else in the world.

But keeping balance? That was the hardest thing he had ever learned in his life.

He had gone under the water so many times that he didn’t even care about the saltiness anymore. His mom used to scold him after every Sunday. But she stopped once she realized that no matter how many times she tried, his habit of chasing the ocean and clinging to the waves was never going to end.

He loved the salt in his mouth, the sand between his fingers. He loved how the world felt quieter underwater. It was an indescribable kind of love.

And now—he felt the same.

Like he was underwater. His body floating. Sounds muffled.

He couldn’t quite distinguish the voices outside, but they were there. Just like the ones he used to hear when he lost balance and slipped beneath the waves.

He squinted, his forehead wrinkling in effort, trying to tune in.

“Est... Are you awake?”

The voice was clearer now. Finally, Est opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was an unfamiliar face in a white lab coat, eyes kind and professional.

“Take deep breaths. Can you hear me, Est? Nod if you can.”

Est obeyed. He wasn’t sure if it took him one second or one minute, but he nodded with more effort than he’d like to admit.

His body still felt like it was suspended in water. Floating. Distant.

“You got a mild panic attack,” the doctor said gently. “You’re regaining focus now. Just keep breathing.”

Focus.

Est locked onto that word and started counting his breaths. One by one.

Slowly, clarity returned. His heartbeat began to settle. His eyes regained their usual sharpness.

He blinked up at the ceiling, then let his gaze roam. It was his room.

Yeah. The last place he remembered before everything went blank.

Then his vision shifted and locked with a pair of cold, sharp eyes. Not cold in cruelty—but cold with worry. Eyes that had always been steady. Focused.

William.

Est met his gaze, and William took a step forward.

“You’re okay. You’re fine,” William said softly, gently.

And Est noticed.

Even through the haze, even after losing consciousness, that soft voice cut through. Like an anchor.

Est gave the smallest nod and looked to the side. Four other people stood nearby, watching him with so much concern and softness that it made something ache in his chest.

The doctor moved toward the door, and William followed him out.

“He needs rest,” the doctor said quietly. “A lot of it. He’s both emotionally and physically drained. Which is... not good for his health.”

William nodded. “Understood.”

Inside, Lego had already rushed to Est’s side. “Phi Est! We really got scared,” he said, pouting. “You were just… lying there, numb. Unmoving. In phi William’s arms.”

Numb.

Est focused on the word.

Did he really faint from a panic attack?

Usually, he didn’t. He always found a way to manage it alone. He had been forced to. For convenience. For silence.

The first time he had one, he was sixteen. A director had publicly shamed him on set—berated him in front of the entire crew. He’d hidden himself in a props room, surrounded by glittery costumes and stage lights, trying to breathe.

That was when he’d learned: One breath. Two. Three.

He hadn’t stopped teaching himself since.

But today—he’d failed. And now, he could see the worry in their eyes. The others were speaking, gently trying to comfort him. Soft words, uncertain chuckles. Nothing too loud.

“Give him some space.”

A sharp voice cut through the soft chaos. William had returned.

He walked straight to Est’s side and knelt.

Their eyes met again.

“Everything is alright,” William said, his voice softer now.

Everything is alright.

Everything is alright.

Est repeated the words silently, over and over.

Trying to feel okay.

Midnight passed quietly. He drifted to sleep.

The next morning, the world spun faster than Est could keep up with.

BH had scheduled a meeting. Est was on his way there, tucked inside the van, surrounded by silence.

LYKN didn’t speak much. It wasn’t cold—it was space. Space to breathe.

But Est couldn’t. He kept overthinking.

Why couldn’t his life just be peaceful? Why did his past still hold him back like chains?

Why did it feel like every step forward came with a shove backward?

The ride was quiet, but he felt their eyes on him. Concerned. Gentle. But it only made the storm in his mind louder.

When they arrived, Jin was already seated in his usual chair, posture sharp and composed.

He didn’t waste time.

“The situation is messy,” he said flatly. “We know who’s behind the leak, but the public doesn’t.”

Silence settled.

“We have three options,” Jin continued. “One—deny everything. Two—reveal the truth. Three—stay silent.”

Everyone turned to Est.

Even P’Ko, who always stood up for him, stayed quiet.

The decision was Est’s.

He stared down at the floor for a moment. Then lifted his gaze.

He had been staying silent his whole life. From the very beginning—when rumors first sparked about his past relationship. When his ex denied everything. When articles spun lies.

He had chosen silence. Always.

Because he didn’t want more exposure. Because he thought silence was safer.

But maybe he was wrong.

Maybe silence wasn't protection. Maybe it was just another kind of wound.

He took a breath.

“I want to reveal the truth.”

The room stilled.

P’Ko was the first to react. “Really, Est?” His voice carried surprise, threaded with concern.

Est met his eyes but didn’t respond.

Instead, he turned to Jin. “But,” he said slowly, “I also want to sue whoever leaked the voice clip. No matter if it’s a person or a company. They exploited my privacy.”

Jin nodded. A small, genuine smile lifted at the corners of his lips.

“Yes,” he said firmly. “We’ll move forward with that as the final decision.”

The meeting ended. The air inside the BH conference room had been thick with unspoken words, but now that Est had made his choice—truth, not silence—he felt lighter.

BH didn’t waste a second.

By evening, the official notice was everywhere.

Est Supha, the one who had always used silence as a shield, had finally spoken up. Loudly.

And the media went into frenzy.

He didn’t read the articles. Not yet. Not fully. But he did see the way his name trended. The way his fans—his people—flooded timelines with support.

#WeStandWithEst
#EstSuphaDeservesBetter
#ProudOfYouEst

He sat in the van again, this time with the windows down just enough to feel the air.

William sat beside him, eyes forward. Neither of them spoke.

No one said much on the way back. The ride home was quiet, just like the morning. But this silence felt different. Not stifling or heavy. More like… a pause. A breath being held.

It felt… like waves. Rising and falling.

Safe.

And for the first time in days, Est let the quiet wrap around him without drowning in it.

Because maybe, this time, he wasn’t underwater anymore.

Maybe this time—he was learning to breathe.

As the van slowed in front of their dorm building, Nut leaned forward from the back seat. “I’m ordering fried chicken for dinner. I don’t care what any of you say.”

Tui immediately chimed in, “I want cheese dip. And don’t order from that one place again. They forgot my soda last time.”

Lego mumbled something about bubble tea.

Est smiled.

It wasn't loud. It wasn’t even that obvious. But it was real.

Inside, LYKN scattered like usual. Bags dropped. Phones charged. The sound of a video game started up from the living room. Est quietly retreated to his room, but he didn’t shut the door.

He sat on his bed, back against the wall, and exhaled.

His heart still felt too big for his chest.

Choosing to speak the truth... it wasn't easy. He had gotten so used to carrying shame like armor, silence like strategy. For years, he thought speaking up would only invite more pain. More headlines. More people tearing him apart with comments that didn’t even scratch the surface of who he really was.

But today, he had chosen differently.

Today, he had finally defended himself.

Est looked around his room—half clean, half chaos—and reached for his phone. There were hundreds of notifications. He didn’t open any of them. Not yet.

Instead, he opened the camera. Switched it to the front-facing view. Looked at himself.

His eyes weren’t puffy. His hair was a bit of a mess. But he looked… calm. Like someone who had done something brave.

And then—

Knock, knock.

Not even two seconds before the door pushed open and Lego peeked in, holding two cups of iced drinks. “One of them has less sugar. I forgot which.”

He walked in anyway, flopping down on Est’s bed without waiting for permission. “You okay?” he asked casually.

Est blinked. “Did you bring both drinks for me?”

Lego shrugged. “You pick one. I’ll take the other.”

Est picked the wrong one—too sweet—but said nothing. He sipped quietly, watching Lego lie down and stare at the ceiling.

“You were kinda badass today,” Lego said, like he was talking about weather.

Est scoffed. “That’s a first.”

“No, really. You always act like you’re okay with everyone misunderstanding you. But it’s nice seeing you bite back for once.” Lego paused, then added with a small voice, “It made me kinda proud, you know?”

Est didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t say anything.

Lego sat up again. “You should stop pretending you’re alone. You’re not. You’ve got us. Even if we suck sometimes.”

Est’s throat tightened. “You guys don’t suck.”

“Don’t get soft on me now,” Lego teased, ruffling Est’s hair with annoying fondness. “Anyway, William’s been pacing outside your door like a ghost. Just talk to him already.”

And just like that, Lego left—taking the half-sweet, half-melted drink with him.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, there was another knock. Softer this time.

Est got up and opened the door.

William stood there. Hands in pockets. Head down.

“You didn’t eat anything since breakfast,” he said without preamble.

“I had bubble tea,” Est replied.

William raised an eyebrow. “That’s not food.”

They stared at each other in awkward silence before Est stepped aside. William walked in, stopping in the middle of the room, turning around slowly like he was trying to figure out what to say.

“I’m glad you didn’t keep quiet again,” William finally said. “You didn’t deserve what happened.”

Est sat on the bed, elbows on knees, fingers rubbing his temple. “I feel like I just ruined whatever peace I had left.”

“You didn’t,” William said softly. “You reclaimed it.”

Est let the words settle between them. He wanted to believe them.

“I used to think the best way to survive was to say nothing,” Est admitted, eyes still focused on the floor. “But the more I stayed quiet, the more people turned me into someone I’m not. And the more I started to believe I was that person too.”

William sat beside him, not too close but not far either. “And now?”

Est looked at him. “Now I don’t know who I am. But I’m done letting someone else write my story.”

William nodded. Then, without warning, reached out and gently—very gently—fixed a strand of Est’s hair that had been sticking up.

Est froze.

The touch was light. Not dramatic. Not romantic. Just… human.

A tiny act of care.

“I’ll stand by whatever you choose,” William said. “Even if the whole world tries to twist it.”

Their eyes met. And for a second, Est forgot what fear felt like.

Chapter Text

"Est Supha Sues Actor Krit and His Agency, Black Label, for Defamation and Privacy Violation."

It took exactly forty-eight hours for headlines like that to sweep across the internet like wildfire. BH didn't wait-they moved first, fast and sharp, before Est could blink, before he could second-guess, before he could retreat into the quiet he always fell back on.

And he let them.

Because this time, for the first time in years, he didn't want to be quiet.

The leaked audio was real-his voice, his words, his tone-torn from somewhere private, intimate, and distorted into something cruel. It didn't matter anymore. There was no hiding the truth now: Est and Krit had been in a relationship. And it had ended-badly. Spectacularly, even. A slow burn that turned into an explosion.

Back then, he said nothing. Stayed silent, swallowed his pain, convinced himself that silence meant control. But this time, when they asked him, when BH laid the legal draft in front of him-he signed. He didn't stutter. Didn't hesitate.

And he knew why.

It wasn't just anger. Or exhaustion.

It was them.

The five boys who weren't supposed to mean so much-LYKN, who had started as distant company, turned friends, turned shadows that never left. They had slipped into his life with laughter, noise, stubbornness-and stayed. Somewhere along the way, they stopped being his background and started becoming his home.

The press was relentless. News anchors rehearsed theories like scripts. Commentators debated on screens, analyzing expressions and clipped video segments. Talk shows speculated every angle-from Est's mental health to the nature of his silence.

But he hadn't expected the flood of support that followed. Fans dug deeper than the media ever could. They brought up old timelines, pieced together footage, found quotes and half-laughed interviews from years ago. When they placed Krit's scandals beside Est's silence, the pattern became impossible to ignore.

"Est Supha doesn't speak often. But when he does, you listen."

One viral post read, captioning a video of Est from a red carpet-shoulders square, gaze sharp, expression unreadable. His eyes held something quiet but intense, like a storm that didn't need to roar.

Est saw it by accident while scrolling. He stared at it for a few seconds, then set his phone down and never picked it up again that night.

But life didn't pause.

Just because he spoke didn't mean the world slowed down to listen. Work didn't stop. Meetings, fittings, table reads-they kept coming. Today was no exception.

The pre-script reading was held in a bright room in BH's upper floor. Est sat on one end of the table, flipping through the thick packet absently while his team murmured nearby. The mood was strangely upbeat-too cheery, like everyone was pretending not to feel the weight of the last two days.

LYKN, of course, were scattered like they always were. Lego leaned too far over Est's shoulder, squinting at the lines and whispering ridiculous plot predictions into his ear. "What if your character turns out to be the villain?" he mused dramatically. "That would be iconic."

Tui sat across from them, one leg tucked under the other, earbuds dangling around his neck as he scrolled through his phone with one hand and tossed script notes at Lego with the other. Hong paced with his clipboard, pointing out outfit ideas with so much confidence it was hard to tell if he was joking.

Nut, quiet as ever, stood near the wall. Watching. Always watching.

And William... William was across the room, busy with the crew. Talking to staff. Reviewing notes with a sharpness Est couldn’t help admiring. He barely looked in Est’s direction, but Est could feel his presence like gravity, like a steady rhythm.

Everything shifted when the door burst open.

Boots. Sharp steps. Fast and heavy.

The energy snapped in half.

Silence cracked like ice underfoot.

Est didn’t flinch.

He had been expecting this. He knew this would happen as Krit never let someone else control the narrative for long.

The room went still

Krit.

Gasps. A few awkward shifts. The air thickened instantly.

Krit walked like someone who knew everyone was watching. His presence wasn’t confidence—it was control disguised as charm.

He stopped inches from Est, smile crooked, brittle.

“Didn’t expect this from you, Est Supha.”

Est didn’t break eye contact. He stood slowly. Deliberately.

“Surprised you?” he said softly. “That was the plan.”

Krit chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

“You’re acting too brave. I know why.”

His eyes scanned the room. One glance. That was all it took.

His gaze settled on the boys of LYKN, who were no longer just bodyguards, they were friends. They were a wall.

Est held his ground. “You started it. Every time. I’m just not scared anymore.”

Krit stepped in again, invading Est’s space. His tone dropped into something darker.

“You’re loud now because you think they’ll catch you if you fall. You think they’ll stay.”

Before Est could even shift, Nut moved. Quiet but swift. A firm hand to Krit’s chest.

“Step back,” Nut said, voice calm but cold. “Don’t touch him.”

Est didn’t say a word. Just watched. And felt. The strange sense of safety that came with knowing someone else had your back before you even asked.

Then William stepped in.

Silent until now. Calm but crackling beneath the surface.

“You don’t have the right to speak to him directly,” William said. “There’s an active lawsuit. If you want an official conversation, get a lawyer.”

Krit turned to him. A smirk on his face. “Oh, I remember you. The bodyguard. The rumored boyfriend. What else are you? Escort? Bed warmer?”

The air stilled.

Lego stood frozen. Tui clenched his jaw. Hong’s eyes flashed.

Est felt the heat rise up his neck—but William? He didn’t even blink.

“Defamation. Slander. Trespassing,” William listed flatly. “Care to add more?”

Krit blinked. That smirk wavered.

“You think I’m scared?” he scoffed. “I’ve survived worse.”

“Good,” William replied. “Then you know how to recover from another blow.”

That hit deeper than anything else. Krit's gaze flickered. His smirk no longer there.

He turned back to Est. “You think they’ll protect you forever? You think they won’t leave when it gets ugly?”

Est didn't respond.

He didn't have to.

Krit left. No parting words. Just one last glare thrown over his shoulder toward William.

Jealousy sat thick in that look.

The door slammed behind him.

Only then did Est exhale-a long, slow breath. His shoulders dropped. Hong approached and placed a cold water bottle in front of him without a word.

Est took it with quiet gratitude and nodded. His fingers curled around the plastic. And the moment passed.

Evening fell, and the office lights dimmed. Est sat in one of BH's private meeting rooms now, shoulders a little slouched, exhaustion catching up to him. Pko sat nearby. William stood behind them. Jin, across the table, looked like he was both impressed and annoyed.

"Krit showing up like that?" Jin scoffed. "Predictable. Classic scare tactic. Didn't even shake the air."

He spun a pen lazily, eyes sharp. "He's bluffing. The more noise they make, the more truth they hide."

He leaned back, snickering like he wasn’t the CEO of one of the most powerful entertainment firms in the country—but it was Kim Seokjin, after all.

"What if they twist something again?" Pko asked. "Public stunts. Another leak."

William answered first, voice quiet but firm. "Then it'll hurt them more. People know the pattern now. They're watching."

Jin nodded. "Exactly. You, Est, don't get distracted. Focus on the new drama. With that idol kid, right? Fresh face. Big potential."

Est smiled faintly, his eyes heavy. "New project. New start."

Jin raised his brows. "Exactly. Leave the messy parts to us."

Back at the apartment-home now, no matter how strange it still felt-chaos greeted him before he could even take off his shoes.

"LAWSUIT PARTY!" Lego yelled, tossing a cushion in the air. "WE WON!"

Est blinked. "What even is a lawsuit party?"

"The victorious kind," Lego replied dramatically, flinging himself onto Tui's shoulder. "Like a victory feast, but for lawsuits."

"I'll order pizza," Tui said flatly.

"Pizza party?" Nut asked from the couch, flipping through channels.

"I'm in if there's food," Hong shouted from his room.

Est smiled and turned toward his room to change. But paused.

William stood in the corner, watching everyone, arms crossed. Quiet.

"You're not joining?" Est asked softly.

William hesitated. Shrugged.

“Why not?” Lego whined. “We have no early schedule tomorrow!”

Est looked at him again, voice gentler this time. “We can stay up late.”

The others watched. Silent. Curious.

William met Est’s eyes, then finally nodded. “Okay.”

Without another word, both of them disappeared into their rooms.

Too shy.

Lego leaned close to Tui, whispering dramatically, “I smell something fishy.”

Tui flicked Lego’s forehead. “That’s because you haven’t washed your hair.”

“Rude,” Lego pouted. “Personal attack.”

Nut and Hong didn’t comment. But their eyes followed the quiet pair with something like understanding.

The pizza arrived late—of course.

"WHERE'S THE DAMN PIZZA?" Lego cried dramatically, draped across the couch like a fainting prince.

Est, already changed and hair damp, sat at the end of the couch pretending he hadn't been quietly waiting for twenty minutes.

Tui brought out plates. Hong came out with a blanket. Nut joined them, still scrolling through news updates.

William finally arrived-carrying four boxes, hot and steaming.

Lego jumped up and leapt like a golden retriever. "WE LIVE!"

Despite the space on the couch, William choose to sit beside Est. No one said anything, everyone was too focused on the food.

Lego tore open the boxes.

"Who ordered pineapple?" Hong asked, visibly horrified.

"Pineapple is sacred and healthy," Lego replied defending, already handing out slices.

"So it was you."

"It's not bad," Est mumbled, watching them bicker.

"See?" Lego pointed. "Even Golden actor agrees."

Est laughed softly.

William, quiet, placed a slice on Est's plate before he could reach. By the time Est looked up, William was already serving himself.

Est stared down at the plate on his lap, cheeks a little pink.

This time, no one teased. No one interrupted.

Sometimes, watching in silence said more.

The night stretched on. They watched episodes of an old drama Lego refused to surrender. They argued over plots. Bickered over flavours. Shared Snacks.Tossed popcorn. Ate too much.

Est loved every second.

Even as sleep crept in.

Within the hour, his eyelids grew heavy. His head kept bobbing forward or sideways, heavy with exhaustion.

No one noticed.

Except William.

The third time Est leaned forward, William shifted—adjusting his position to offer his shoulder.

Est, half-asleep, leaned on it. Frozen. Still.

Then, a soft whisper:

“Sleep.”

And Est did. Eyes fluttered shut. Walls down. He surrendered to the warmth beside him.

He heard laughter echoed around him, teasing, somewhere far away, but it didn’t reach him.

Only stirring when arms lifted him-strong, familiar-and carried him gently through the hallway.

He felt warmth. Heat. A chest under his cheek. The soft rhythm of footsteps.

He didn't open his eyes. Just held on.

And when he curled into the warmth, arms tucked around William's chest-

William's heart skipped a beat.

Chapter Text

Est woke with a dull throb in his head, his balance slightly off as he lay sprawled across the silk-white expanse of his bed. It took a second for clarity to return. And when it did, it hit all at once.

The night before.

The couch. The pizza party. The blurry warmth of laughter and teasing. The weightless comfort of falling asleep on someone’s chest.

William’s chest.

Est let out a groan and kicked the duvet away, flailing a little in frustration, his legs flopping dramatically as if trying to shake off the memory. But there was no time to dwell. No time to overthink the too-soft way William had carried him to bed, or the way he’d unknowingly curled closer during sleep.

He had a schedule today. An important one.

The morning passed in a haze. Est’s body moved on autopilot as he got ready, eyes half-lidded, energy nowhere to be found. By the time he reached the twelfth floor of the BH building, he still hadn’t properly woken up. The teasing from the Lykn boys for falling asleep in William’s arms and being tucked in like a child was mercifully postponed—though only because they were busy with other chaos.

There was no escaping today.

BH had turned into a storm of meetings, fresh contracts, and promotional shoots. New projects were blooming like spring weeds. Est, still a little raw from the relentless media frenzy, was ushered into yet another fitting room, this time for a brand-new series—untitled as of yet, but already highly anticipated.

And with it, a new co-star.

Cha Eunwoo.

Est had heard the name countless times. He was 27, an actor-idol from the group ASTRO, a star known not just for his ethereal looks but also for his precise acting, charisma, and the kind of soft confidence that seemed impossible to replicate. Est remembered seeing him at an award show two years ago. Eunwoo had bowed politely, smiled like he had all the time in the world, and disappeared before Est could process anything.

He hadn’t really thought of him since.

Until now.

“Est Supha,” Eunwoo said as he walked into the fitting room with the ease of someone who owned it. His smile lit up the entire space, polished and genuine all at once. “Finally working together.”

Est blinked. He wasn’t expecting that. “You remember me?”

“I’ve watched everything you’ve done,” Eunwoo said without a pause, his tone so smooth it bordered on flirtatious. “Even your student film from university. You were incredible in that too.”

Est flushed despite himself, the heat crawling up his neck before he could stop it.

Pko, standing nearby with a clipboard and a teasing glint in his eye, mouthed a dramatic wow and turned away, snorting quietly to himself.

The fitting assistant handed Est and Eunwoo their outfits—sleek navy suits with a soft, silk-like sheen. Today’s shoot was for promotional materials only. The drama was a romance-thriller, filled with tension and slow-burning intensity. The photoshoot required three specific sets: one dramatic pose, one intimate pose, and one close-up of fingers brushing.

It sounded simple on paper.

Or so Est thought.

Eunwoo slipped into character with frightening ease. He was relaxed, charming, and undeniably magnetic. Every time the camera clicked, he leaned in just a bit too close, whispered lines from the script with that infuriating smile, and brushed stray hairs off Est’s collar with calculated gentleness.

“You’re easy to act with,” Eunwoo murmured during a pose where their foreheads almost touched. His breath brushed against Est’s cheek. “It’s hard not to get caught up in your eyes.”

Est froze.

He wasn’t sure if it was the words, the delivery, or the implication behind them. He gave a breathless laugh, the kind that didn’t sound entirely genuine, and focused hard on the camera’s lens instead of the blush blooming across his skin.

From the far end of the room, someone had just entered.

William.

He didn’t speak. Didn’t even announce himself. Just leaned silently against the back wall, arms folded tightly across his chest, eyes unreadable.

He hadn’t meant to come here.

But when Nut offhandedly mentioned that Est was paired with Eunwoo today—Eunwoo—William had found himself making the walk to the studio without a second thought. Now, standing there, every muscle tense, he watched Eunwoo brush imaginary lint off Est’s suit, whisper another line from the script that sounded too much like a confession.

Est kept smiling, nodding, playing the role of professional actor with flawless grace.

Too professional to step back.

Too polite to stop it.

William’s jaw clenched tightly.

“Sir,” a staff member asked gently, “would you like to wait in the next room?”

“I’m fine here,” William replied, his voice cold enough to draw a shiver.

Est heard it. He glanced up briefly, and their eyes met for just a second.

Est tilted his head slightly, the silent question clear.

Are you okay?

William didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t answer.

After the final set wrapped up, Est made a quiet exit from the studio, slipping out into the hallway. The corridor was silent, the buzz of flashing cameras and stylists fading behind the heavy doors.

He leaned against the wall, letting out a long, quiet breath.

Moments later, William appeared at the far end.

His steps were slow. Controlled. Like always.

Est looked up, a tired smile forming. “You came?”

William nodded once and handed him a bottle of sparkling water. The label was still cold from the vending machine.

Est accepted it, eyes warm. “You didn’t even say hi,” he said softly, teasingly.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” William replied, voice clipped.

Est blinked. “Interrupt?”

“You seemed… busy.”

The emphasis wasn’t lost on Est.

He crossed his arms slowly. “It’s just acting.”

“You seemed to be enjoying it.”

Est almost snapped back with, Well, duh. That’s my job, but something in William’s tone pulled him short. It wasn’t anger. Not quite. It was something else. Sharper. Colder. Something that made Est pause.

“I was being professional,” Est said carefully. “Eunwoo’s just—friendly. And sweet.”

William said nothing. His eyes shifted away.

Est straightened off the wall. “Are you mad at me?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You should go back inside and rest,” William murmured.

The softness of it made Est’s chest tighten. Something about those words didn’t sit right. They weren’t dismissive. But they weren’t honest either.

He studied William’s face.

There was something there. Something unsaid. Heavy.

Before Est could speak again, the studio door burst open, and Nut strolled out, earbuds in, humming a ridiculous tune far too loudly.

He stopped when he saw them.

Then grinned like he’d just caught something juicy.

“Oh,” Nut said, dragging the word out. “Am I interrupting?”

William stepped back instinctively. Est looked away, the blush returning. Not even Eunwoo had managed to make him blush like this.

Nut folded his arms, a teasing glint in his eyes. “So... nothing happening, huh?”

“Nut—” Est groaned.

“No, it’s cute,” Nut insisted. “Also, William, the way you were watching? I thought you were going to storm the set. You had that look.”

“I wasn’t watching.”

“Bro,” Nut deadpanned. “You were doing your laser-vision scan thing. I thought you were assessing if Est needed to be rescued or... claimed.”

Est covered his face with both hands.

“Can we not do this in the hallway?”

“No promises,” Nut sang as he walked away. “Next time someone flirts with Est, maybe try not to look like you’re about to commit a felony. Just a thought.”

He vanished down the corridor.

William remained still.

Est slowly dropped his hands. Something curious flickered in his gaze.

“You really were staring?”

William hesitated.

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

Their eyes met.

William didn’t flinch this time.

“You know why,” he said.

Est opened his mouth.

Closed it again.

He didn’t know what to say.

They walked back together.

In silence.

But it wasn’t awkward. It was thick. Soft. Like something had shifted between them—something unnamed but unmistakably real.

Back at the apartment, the usual chaos had dulled.

Lego had gone out with Tui. Hong was quietly holed up in his room. Nut was singing an off-key love ballad from the shower, completely tone-deaf.

Est stood in the kitchen, cradling a warm mug of herbal tea—something Tui had made him try days ago, promising it would soothe the nerves.

It didn’t.

William walked in.

Their eyes locked again.

This time, Est didn’t let the moment slip.

“Were you... jealous?”

William leaned against the counter.

He was quiet for a moment. Then, “Will anything change if I say yes?”

Est blinked.

William exhaled. “If not, then yes. I was.”

Est didn’t speak. The truth hung between them.

Then William added, voice barely above a whisper, “You deserve someone who sees all of you. Not just the version on-screen.”

Maybe it was to cover the jealousy. Maybe it was the closest to a confession William could give.

Est looked at him. Really looked.

And whispered, “You see me.”

It wasn’t a question.

William didn’t respond.

He didn’t need to.

Because he did. He always had.

From the first time he saw that soft-eyed boy long before fame touched him. Before Est even knew how bright he could shine.

Now, William stood in front of him, close enough to reach. Close enough to fall.

Most days, it was easy to hold back.

But today?

Today, something burned too hot to ignore.

And maybe, for once, neither of them wanted to put out the flame.

Chapter Text

Time flew by quickly. It had already been two weeks since the fitting, the promo photoshoot, and-most importantly-the glimpse of a jealous William.

Days blurred together in a haze of shooting, rehearsals, and noise. The noise wasn't just from the production chaos, but from the outside world too-especially the ongoing lawsuit. Yet neither BH nor LYKN gave him the time or space to even keep track of it. Krit and Black Label had gone unusually quiet. Too quiet. They were either fighting or brewing something behind closed doors-probably new ways to paint Est as the villain again.

But he didn't care anymore. Not after the bravery he had recently unearthed.

Shooting for his new project- "Crash into you, Softly"- a romantic comedy series, had already begun. It felt like a breath of fresh air. New staff. New co-stars. A different rhythm of work. There were scenes he genuinely looked forward to filming, especially the ones that would take him to Jeju Island, a place that held so much of what he loved.

Eunwoo had been sweet. Friendly. Maybe there was a hint of admiration too. Est wouldn't deny that he'd spent an entire evening a few days ago binge-watching every single one of Eunwoo's performances-from his debut days up until now.

He just wanted to know him. That was all.

William had been avoiding him-but only on a personal level. It was cliché. Exactly as Est had expected. Still, he remained cold and strict in his role as team leader. Nothing had changed there. But Est found himself quietly wishing William would at least offer some sort of explanation for how he had acted two weeks ago.

Since that night, Est had gone on to perform even more intimate scenes. But William never reacted like that again. Most of the time, he appeared overly focused on his work; other times, he wasn't even in the same room.

And there was something else. Lately, the other members of LYKN had started accompanying Est more frequently. At first, he thought it was just coincidence, maybe a shift in duty schedules. But eventually, he realized it wasn't random at all.

William was the only one who assigned duties. William-the leader.

So Est knew.

Still, he pretended not to. He acted like everything was normal. Like that conversation in the kitchen had never happened at all.

Now, on a random rooftop of a tall building, waiting for his turn to shoot, Est found himself zoning out. He leaned against the high railing, letting the late afternoon wind press against his face.

There was noise behind him-crew setting up lights, directors adjusting angles, actors murmuring over scripts. Est had already memorized his. His lines in this cut were minimal, so he allowed himself a rare moment of stillness.

It didn't last long.

Eunwoo stepped into his peripheral vision.

"The view from here is beautiful," Eunwoo said, his eyes not on the skyline, but on Est.

Est didn't miss the implication. He tilted his head with a playful smirk. "You're flirting again, aren't you?"

Eunwoo chuckled. "Only with the pretty ones."

Est shook his head, a soft laugh slipping from his lips. He knew Eunwoo was a good kid-nothing hidden behind his smile, unlike so many others in the industry. In some ways, their journeys mirrored each other.

Before Est could respond, Eunwoo added a bit more softly, "Are you free this Sunday?"

Est turned to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"I mean..." Eunwoo stuttered slightly, suddenly shy. "If you are, there's a Jeff concert I want to attend. I was hoping for some company."

Jeff. As in Jeff Satur. His favorite artist. Est knew the concert was happening. As a long-time fan, how could he not? But he hadn't planned on going-too much attention, too many eyes. He'd resigned himself to watching clips online later from the safety of home.

But now...

Est's full attention turned to Eunwoo. He could sense eyes on him-he didn't turn to look, but he knew.

"Jeff's my favorite," Est murmured, intrigued.

"I know," Eunwoo said, a little too quickly.

"What?"

"I mean..." He rubbed the back of his neck, flustered. "When I said I was a fan of yours... I wasn't lying."

Est laughed-genuine and light. Then after a pause, he added, "I'll ask the team and let you know, okay?"

Then came a deliberate cough behind them.

It was Lego.

"Next slot is ready," he said, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. The kind only a close friend could pull off. His brows wiggled, silently demanding the gossip.

Est waved him off, mouthing a quick "Later."

But when he turned, his smile faded slightly. A few of the staff were watching. And among them stood a certain LYKN member-eyes narrowed, expression unreadable. But the way his posture screamed back off was loud and clear.

Est blinked, collected himself, and moved toward the set.

Lock in. No time for that now.

And he did.

The shoot went smoothly-clean takes, a few retakes for angle changes. Nothing too demanding.

But the silence in his chest lingered long after the cameras stopped rolling.

___________

After the long day of filming, they were finally back home, gathered around the dining table for dinner.

Lego, who had been throwing not-so-subtle glances at Est all evening, finally dropped the bomb.

"Okay, now spill the tea, bestie..."

Est, pretending to be fully focused on the food in front of him, tried to act nonchalant. "What? Oh... you mean Eunwoo?"

Immediately, everyone at the table perked up. All eyes were on him-especially a certain someone sitting diagonally across.

Nut leaned in with a teasing grin. "Everyone on set was talking. Word is, he asked you out on a date..."

"WHAT?!" Est nearly choked, wide-eyed. "No, no, not at all! He was just talking about this Jeff Satur concert happening on Sunday. He said he wanted some company, that's all!"

"Sounds like a concert date to me," Tui added, clearly amused.

Est scrambled to say something-anything-to dig himself out of the situation. "I didn't even say yes, god. Stop finalizing it like it's set in stone!"

"Wait, wait..." Lego said dramatically, clutching his chest. "You didn't say yes?? The Cha Eunwoo asked you to a concert and you didn't give an answer? WHATTT."

"I didn't say no either!" Est defended. "I just said I'd ask the team first."

Lego shook his head in a mock pity. "Being a celebrity must be so hard. Can't even go on a date without consulting ten different people."

"It's not a date, god!" Est groaned.

Hong, ever the calm voice, added, "Est replied well. He knows how this industry works."

Est continued eating, trying hard to ignore the one person who hadn't said a single word so far.

But then, Lego turned to William, grinning wickedly. "Well, the team leader should make the decision, right?"

Now every pair of eyes turned toward William-who had, until now, been silently watching Est.

William paused for a moment before speaking, his tone unreadable. "A public appearance isn't necessarily bad. Could even be good for the drama's promotion."

Est blinked, startled. That wasn't the kind of answer he had expected.

"But..." William added, setting his chopsticks down, "we'll accompany him. For safety."

His eyes briefly met Est's across the table. A silent tension simmered in the space between them. Est held the gaze for a beat before looking away, not wanting the others to notice.

"So... a date with five extra people?" Lego laughed, nudging Nut beside him.

Est sighed, shoulders slumping. "Fine. I accept my fate."

___________

Sunday came wrapped in winter air and quiet nerves.

Est wasn't sure why he felt like he was going to an audition instead of a concert. He stood by the mirror, adjusting his cap again, pulling the mask higher. He looked... normal. Comfortable. Safe. Nothing too flashy-just black jeans, a plain hoodie, and a wool coat.

Still, when he stepped out, he found not just Eunwoo waiting, but also four very familiar faces near the van.

Nut, Tui, Lego, and Hong.

All in dark shades, long coats, and smug expressions.

"Seriously?" Est asked, stopping on the steps. "Is this a mission or a concert?"

"Both," Nut replied, chewing gum. "We're calling it: Operation Third-Wheeling."

"You're welcome," Tui added, holding out a neatly packed scarf. "And wear this. It's windy."

Est took it with a sigh, then looked past them.

Of course, William was there too. Talking to the driver. Arms folded. Coat sharp. Eyes unreadable.

"Wow," Eunwoo mumbled beside him. "You travel with a full entourage?"

"No, just emotionally attached bodyguards," Est whispered back dryly.

Inside the van, the teasing didn't stop. Nut and Lego sat up front with the driver. Hong and Tui sat behind Est and Eunwoo. William sat by the window in the back row, silent but always watching.

Eunwoo handled it like a pro-grinning through the chaos, throwing jokes, even laughing when Lego asked him to rate Est's boyfriend potential on a scale of 1 to 10.

Est could've died on the spot.

The concert venue was already buzzing when they arrived. Jeff Satur's shows are always sold out. The air outside was electric-filled with fans, lightsticks, and the scent of hot snacks from nearby carts. Est kept his head low, and the team naturally fanned out-Nut and Hong up front, Tui and Lego behind.

Eunwoo leaned closer as they walked. "You do this often?"

Est smiled faintly. "No. First time like this."

"Feels like a K-drama scene," Eunwoo said.

Est glanced up, amused. "Hope it doesn't end like one."

Their seats were in a roped-off VIP row, barely separated from the crowd, but it still gave them some breathing room. Tui and Nut pretended to be managers, chatting with staff nearby. Lego was filming casually-mostly Jeff, occasionally panning to them with commentary under his breath. Hong sat on the aisle, focused and observant. William stood a few steps behind their row, not seated, just... there.

And yet, Est felt it.

That tether. That unspoken line that tied him to William's presence, even when William wasn't looking at him.

When the lights dimmed, and Jeff's voice soared over the speakers, the entire arena pulsed with energy. Est gripped the seat's edge, eyes locked on the stage. He didn't realize he was smiling so openly-until Eunwoo nudged him.

"He's really your favorite, huh?"

Est nodded. "Every song."

And then Why Don't You Stay started playing.

Est froze.

The notes hit deep. Nostalgia. Longing. Maybe a bit of pain too.

He blinked a few times, unaware that his hand had drifted to grip the cold metal railing in front of him. The crowd swayed. Cameras flashed. And then-someone stumbled nearby. A fan, running down the steps, brushed hard against Est's shoulder.

He almost lost his balance.

But a hand caught him.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist. Firm, steady. Protective.

He looked up, startled.

William.

Their eyes met.

Est didn't move. Neither did William. Their eyes locked onto each other. Soft. Intense. All at once.

Not until Lego called out-too loudly, "All okay?"

William dropped his hand casually. Est mumbled a small "Yeah," turning back toward the stage quickly. His heartbeat was louder than the music.

Somewhere nearby, someone's camera had captured it.

Later that night, the photos hit social media.

At first, it was:
"Est and Cha Eunwoo at Jeff's concert!"
"Visual overload in one row!"

Then came the close-ups:
"Who's the guy holding Est's wrist?"
"Same bodyguard from the recent award show??"

Side-by-side comparisons began flooding the timeline.

The same build. Same eyes. Same sharp jawline.

"Mystery man appears again-and it's not Eunwoo."
#EstSighting #JeffSaturConcert #MysteryManReturns

By midnight, the moment was viral.

Even some fans, sharp-eyed and relentless, began circulating old blurry pictures from backstage events and fan meets-matching the man to Est's "rumored boyfriend."

And the buzz had begun again.

In the van back home, the air was quieter.

Est sat between Eunwoo and Lego, scrolling through his phone, trying not to react too much.

Eunwoo leaned in, whispering, "If this was my plan to distract the public with us, I think I failed."

Est gave him a small, tired smile. "Don't take it personally."

He glanced toward the back row.

William was looking out the window, unreadable. But Est didn't miss how his jaw was tight. Or how he hadn't spoken since the concert ended.

Est turned back to his phone.

The silence between them had stretched wide again.

But now the world has noticed. Or more like world had found out. Even before them.

It wasn’t a coincidence anymore..

Chapter Text

Rumours. Scandals.

Est Supha was used to them. From glowing praise to brutal takedowns, his career had been shaped by every whisper.

But this time—this rumour scared him.

Because he didn’t even know if it was true.
The whispers now weren’t about his acting or controversies. They were about a boyfriend. A certain someone. And that certain someone happened to be the one person Est couldn’t get out of his head.

The morning after the concert, BH management called William in for a meeting.

Alone.

None of the other Lykn members were invited. Not even Est, himself.

Which made it all the more unsettling.

Est couldn’t shake off the fear. What if they ask William to keep his distance from me?
William was already acting distant. Barely speaking. And now this meeting too? It wasn’t helping.

And yet, what scared Est even more was the simple question that followed, Why do I care so much?

He didn’t have an answer. Or maybe—he did. He just didn’t want to say it out loud.

There had always been admiration for William as the Lykn's leader. Steady, always composed, caring. That much was undeniable.
Maybe not from day one. But the feelings had bloomed slowly. Quietly. Strongly.

Est didn’t miss the way William started ordering sparkling water for him instead of still—the tiniest inside joke Est once teased him with.

He didn’t miss how William always made sure snacks were ready when Est skipped breakfast.
Or how, when Est got sulky on set, a bar of his favorite chocolate would suddenly appear.

Small things. But they added up.

Est told himself it was just William’s duty. A leader's job. But even P'ko, in his six years as Est's manager, never did that. So why William?

He didn’t know. And naming whatever this was felt dangerous—especially with the lingering scars from his last relationship.

And anyway, Est was 98% sure he was imagining things. That last 2%?

Just foolish hope.

William didn’t show up all day. Not even during shooting.

Monday sets were always hectic—more cast, more crew. But William’s absence made everything feel off-kilter.

The other four members stayed close, keeping Est company and also guarding him.

Lego, sweet as always, tried cheering him up with chocolates.

It didn’t work. Not today. Not when it didn’t come from someone specific.

Nut tried teasing him like usual. Still didn’t work.

Est buried himself in his script, overthinking each word. Luckily, he didn’t have many scenes with Eunwoo today. That made it easier to breathe.

Night came. William still hadn’t returned.

Est, nervous and restless, tiptoed to William's door.
He didn’t even knock—just checked if things had been moved out. They hadn’t.

I’m being paranoid. Dramatic.

By midnight, Est was still awake, pacing in his room. He hadn’t eaten dinner, too wrapped up in his own sulking. Then—

A soft click.

The door beside his room opened.

He jumped up instantly. It wasn’t like he had been waiting without sleeping or anything. (He absolutely had. For three hours straight.)

Est didn’t hesitate. He burst into William’s room.
He didn’t expect the scene he walked into.

William stood half-undressed, black coat tossed aside on the bed, white shirt hanging open.
Strong biceps. Steady abs.

Est’s eyes flicked downward—then froze.

A scar. Just above the right side of William’s lower abs. Old, but deep.

Est stared.

William looked up, startled at first, then softened. Before he could say anything, Est stammered.

“S-sorry! I just— I didn’t mean— I’ll go—!”

He turned to leave—then stopped. Eyes locked back on the scar.

“Is that...?” he whispered.

William followed his gaze. Understanding dawned. “It’s nothing new. From an old investigation, a few years ago,” he said casually, voice low.

Est nodded blankly, still staring, mind racing with questions he wouldn’t dare ask.

Then, as if jolted back into his body, he stumbled out of the room in a flurry of apologies.
“I’ll wait outside!” he blurted, nearly tripping over his own feet.

Behind him, William chuckled—softly.

After a long day full of corporate talk, sterile office walls, and silent rides, he hadn’t realized what he needed.

But it was this.

The flustered, beautiful sight of Est Supha.

Only him.

__________

Est leaned against the cold wall outside William’s room, heart still racing.

What the hell was that?

He buried his face in his hands, exhaling sharply.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
He wasn’t sure what embarrassed him more—barging in, or the way his eyes had shamelessly lingered on William’s chest, the scar, the slow velvet drop of his voice.

The hallway was quiet, bathed in the soft hum of a single overhead light. Everyone else had long gone to sleep. But Est was too wired to return to his own room.

Just as he debated sneaking away and pretending the whole thing never happened, the door creaked open behind him.

He froze. Then turned.

William stood there, now dressed—still casual, shirt loosely tucked in, hair damp and combed back. He held a bottle of water in one hand and rubbed the back of his neck with the other.

“I didn’t think you’d actually wait,” William said, voice quiet, but tinged with something warm.

Est tried to play it off. “I was just… checking if you were okay. Not waiting.”

William raised an eyebrow. “Three hours?”

Est flushed. “I wasn’t counting.”

William chuckled softly and leaned against the doorframe. “You didn’t eat, did you?”

Est looked away.

A sigh. Then, “Come in.”

“I’m fine,” Est mumbled, suddenly far too aware of the last time he was inside that room… and what he’d seen.

William didn’t argue. Instead, he turned and walked back into the room, leaving the door open. “I got you something.”

Est lingered—then stepped in, curiosity winning over embarrassment.

The lights were dim, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting a warm hue over the room. On the desk sat a small white box, wrapped with a napkin from the café—the same ones Est often scribbled on during rehearsals.

Est blinked. “What’s that?”

“Strawberry cheesecake mochi,” William said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You mentioned it once. During that night shoot. When you were hangry.”

Est stared at the box, touched in ways he didn’t know how to express.

“You really listen to everything I say, huh?” he asked quietly.

William’s gaze lingered, serious now. “Only when it’s you.”

The silence between them thickened—unspoken feelings lingering in the air, neither of them brave enough to name them yet.

Est looked down, fingers gently fiddling with the napkin. Finally, he broke the tension.
“The meeting… was it about the rumours?”

William didn’t answer at first. Then, calmly: “Partly.”

Est’s chest tightened.

“They asked if there’s anything they should know. Anything that might affect the group’s image,” William added, his voice unreadable.

“And you said?” Est asked, his voice barely a whisper.

William took a step closer, not touching, but close enough for Est to feel his presence. “I said if there’s something worth risking for… I’d know.”

Est’s eyes lifted, meeting his.

In the hush between them, William spoke again—his voice lower, more vulnerable. “I’m sorry, actually.”

Est blinked. “What?”

“I’ve been running. Even when I’m right in front of you,” William said gently. “I lose myself, my entire self around you. I don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

Est didn’t speak. He stared—heart in his throat, thoughts a mess.

Then, barely a whisper, “I don’t want this to become just another rumour. Don’t run away from me. Can you promise me that?”

William’s eyes softened. He stepped even closer.
“I promise. I’ll stay—for you, for me… for us. If it’s possible.”

Est looked up, heart pounding.
To see William Jakrapatr, the cold, untouchable leader of Lykn—looking at him like that—felt unreal.

But William didn’t reach out. He didn’t close the gap. He simply stayed there. Still. Steady. Letting Est decide.

And somehow, that restraint made Est want him even more.

“Eat,” William finally said, nodding toward the box.

Est gave a half-laugh, half-sigh. “You’re still bossy.”

“And you still skip meals when you’re sulking.”

They smiled. Not fully. But enough.

Est ended up eating the entire box of strawberry cheesecake mochi. Didn’t even offer a single piece.

Yeah, he was definitely hungry.
William just watched him from the edge of the bed—soft-eyed, heart warm, hopelessly fond.

When Est finally stood to leave, he glanced over his shoulder.

“Thanks… for the mochi. I mean.”

William nodded slowly, still watching him. “You’re welcome.”

Est hovered at the door. Still not turning.

“I think… nah, never mind.”

William’s voice came gently. “Goodnight. I’ll be accompanying you tomorrow.”

Est let out a breath. A real one. “You better.”

A pause. Then—
“So… you missed me, huh?”

“Who? Me?” Est scoffed, glancing back with the faintest grin. “Definitely not you.”

But he didn’t move.

And then, without warning, Est tiptoed, leaned in, and pressed a quick kiss to William’s cheek.

“Goodnight, cold ass,” he whispered—before darting out the door and running towards his own room like a thief.

William just stood there, frozen for a moment—cheek tingling, heart thudding, grin growing.

Blushing. Smiling. Like an idiot.

Later that night, Est lay in bed with the taste of strawberry mochi still lingering on his tongue.

He stared up at the ceiling.

Trying to name whatever it was blooming inside his chest.

It was growing. It was warm. It was terrifying.

It was love.

And his heart had never beat this fast in his entire life.

Chapter Text

William accompanied Est throughout the upcoming shoots—just like he promised.

The first day after the cheek kiss, Est was a cute mess. He skipped breakfast, avoided the Lykn members entirely, and single-handedly dodged William like it was a sport.

Not because he regretted it. No, not at all.

Just because he was a hundred percent, fully, absolutely shy.

Meanwhile, William was completely fine—calm, composed, and secretly admiring this flustered, pink-cheeked version of Est. There was something endearing about watching him stumble over his words, hide behind props, and pretend like nothing had happened.

Of course, the other members noticed too. The blush. The stiff air. The strange, shy tension that hovered between the two all day. It was always there—but today, it felt just a little more... suspicious.

On set, the shoot moved along smoothly. Lines were delivered, scenes were wrapped, and professionalism stayed intact. And during breaks, William quietly bought Est some water or snacks, slipping away without saying much.

In Est’s caravan, Lego and Tui were already seated inside, scrolling on their phones and chatting. Outside, Nut and Hong leaned against the wall, peeking in ever so often. Everyone was in their own world.

Est quickly mumbled a soft “thank you” as William placed the snack bag down infront of him. William gave a curt nod in response, keeping things professional—or at least trying to. The twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

Lego and Tui glanced at each other. The tension between the two was impossible to miss.

Lego, who had been getting bored and clearly in the mood to stir things up, piped up.
“Nothing for us, P’William?”

William didn’t flinch. “I can get something. What do you both want?”

Still professional. Still polite. But Lego wasn’t done.

Tui rolled his eyes. “No, we just ate earlier. Lego, stop teasing them.”

“But it’s fun…” Lego mumbled, half under his breath, grinning to himself.

Est, still quietly eating the snacks William brought, flushed even more.

William turned slightly, eyes on Est once again. He didn’t move to leave. There was something he wanted to ask.

“Anything more for you?” he asked softly.

Est shook his head quickly, cheeks puffed with food. He looked like a startled squirrel. Cute.

That evening, when the staff released the on-set photos, fans were quick to admire the growing chemistry between the two main leads, Eunwoo and Est. The comments were filled with praise, hearts, and cries about how "natural" the couple looked together.

And also they didn’t miss something else.

In a few of the behind-the-scenes shots, standing in the background, was a tall, sharp-eyed man in a black suit. His expression unreadable. Cold stare. Watchful.

The same man who had already sparked rumors before.

Fans were quick to catch on. Talks about Est’s rumored boyfriend spread across social media platforms like wildfire, again.

But it never became a scandal, thankfully.

The only reason the situation didn’t spiral completely out of control was because everyone was too focused on the excitement surrounding the series and the fresh onscreen couple. Still, the boyfriend speculation didn’t die down.

No confirmation. No denial.

The company stayed quiet. Est stayed quiet.

And maybe, that silence said everything.

_______________

The shooting schedule was relentless—packed for weeks, maybe even months ahead. Scene after scene, costume changes, lines to remember, makeup retouches, retakes. It was exhausting, yet Est never complained.

He enjoyed the work. Truly.

Especially now, surrounded by a new group of people—friends, really—who made his world feel a little less lonely. There was always laughter between shots, playful teasing over coffee cups, even late-night rehearsals that ended with takeout and music humming from someone's phone.

Still, there were moments—brief but undeniable—when Est wanted nothing more than to lie down. To rest. To just... breathe.

Or, more precisely, to lie down in someone’s arms.

Not that he ever admitted that out loud. Definitely not. He definitely didn’t think about that at least once every day.

But today was harder.

Something about the air, or maybe the heaviness behind his eyes, or maybe the way his limbs ached even when he sat still—it made everything feel heavier.

He had been quiet all day. Smiling here and there, nodding through instructions, doing his best to stay present. But his energy lagged behind him like a forgotten shadow. At one point, he even had to excuse himself and sit down, hand resting lightly against his chest, just breathing through the lightheadedness.

No one made a fuss. Est had always been the type to keep things to himself, so no one pressed.

But William noticed.

He had noticed the moment Est walked out of his bedroom and stepped onto the living room that morning—his posture slightly slouched, eyes dulled beneath concealer, the tired curve of his smile just a little more forced than usual.

He didn’t comment. Just quietly made sure Est took short breaks, brought him water, stepped in when he could to ease the load throughout the day. William knew Est wouldn’t listen if anyone told him to rest—not unless he was forced to.

And that moment came sooner than expected.

It was time to shoot the final scene of the day. Est, trying to shake off the fatigue, stood up a little too quickly.

His vision swam. Blurred.

And then— pitch black.

He collapsed before anyone could react.

William was the first to move.

No hesitation. No questions.

He caught Est just before he hit the ground, arms securing him with frightening ease as panic surged through his veins. In seconds, he was already carrying Est toward the caravan, barking for space, for air, for water.

Tui and Hong followed immediately, Nut right behind with a bottle and a cool towel, Lego holding the door open wide.

Inside the dim caravan, William laid Est gently on the cushioned seat, lightly patting his cheek.

“Est,” he called softly at first, then firmer. “Est. Wake up.”

Est stirred, his eyelashes fluttering.

And then came the scolding. Sharp and stern—his voice low but tight with worry.

“Don’t you dare collapse on me. Ever again,” William snapped.

Est blinked at him, dazed, cheeks flushed. Then he pouted—actually pouted—and mumbled a soft, sulky, “Okay…”

The pout didn’t help William’s rising heart rate.

Around them, staff members lingered awkwardly near the doorway, unsure whether to interrupt. A few co-actors exchanged glances. No one quite knew how to respond.

Except Lykn.

The boys stood side by side like proud groomsmen at a wedding, watching their leader dote on someone like he’d finally found the other half of his life.

That moment—however unspoken—changed something.

Because from that day forward, people on set began to notice too.

The way William always found his way to Est’s side between takes. The way Est, always shy and quiet, seemed to lean into William’s presence more than anyone else’s. They didn’t hide. They didn’t say anything either. Because they didn’t need to.

It was in the soft exchanges. The way Est’s water bottle always ended up filled without him asking. The way William hovered protectively during long shoots in the sun. The way they shared quiet laughter in corners when no one else was watching.

And it wouldn’t be a lie to say—everyone was shipping them now.

Even Eunwoo, the lead actor himself, couldn’t help but smile when he saw them together. He admired Est deeply, had always thought there was something ethereal about him. But not even he had ever seen Est look at someone the way he looked at William—with quiet wonder, with stars in his eyes.

A look that said: It’s you. It’s always been you.

Chapter Text

Things had been going smooth. Too smooth, if Est were being honest. And that alone made him uneasy.

Most of his important scenes were already shot. The drama had entered post-production, and aside from a few promotional clips left to record, all that remained was the whirlwind of advertisements and fan events that always followed a big project. Est had a complicated relationship with these events—they were part thrill, part stomachache.

They could go either way. So he always prepared himself for the best and the worst.

And this time, the expectations were sky-high. The public was watching closely—not just because this was Est’s comeback project after the scandal, but because his co-star was none other than idol-actor Cha Eunwoo. A huge name in the industry. A heartthrob. Every move from the drama was already being scrutinized under a lens.

Est didn’t fear criticism. He welcomed it, even. It kept him grounded. Gave him space to grow. But this time… this time, it felt personal. Like he was walking on a tightrope over all the assumptions people had made about him.

There were a lot of worries buried under his practiced smile.

After the incident where he collapsed mid-shoot, things had… shifted. The workload lightened. Schedules cleared up on its own. Less running around. More breaks. At first, he assumed it was the company trying to avoid another PR disaster.

But then, he overheard two BH staff whispering near the stairwell on a random tuesday:

“William had a meeting with the CEO Jin. About Est.”

He remembered freezing mid-step.

William Jakrapatr. The man assigned to guard him. The same man who he has a soft spot for and the one who was always a step behind him—watchful, unreadable, absurdly calm. Est tried to brush off the rumor. Tried to tell himself not to believe hallway gossip.

But he knew.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t want to hear a denial that might be too convincing.

Still, after reaching home and twenty-three minutes of pacing and pretending to answer nonexistent texts, Est finally walked up to where William was seated on the balcony of the apartment, reading something on his tablet.

“I was wondering—” Est started.

“Sit,” William said quietly, without looking up. “You look tired.”

Est blinked.

“…Oh.”

And so he sat. Just like that. No explanation. No follow-up. He settled into the chair beside William, arms resting loosely on his lap, gaze fixed on the sunset—or pretending to be. Mostly he got distracted by William's side profile and sharp jawline. But ofcourse, he pretended that he didn't.

He never brought up the rumor.

He didn’t need to.

A week before the drama’s release, a fan event took place for the promotional activities.

It was everything Est had prepared for: lights, cheers, cameras, eager fans holding up banners and handmade plushies, their eyes sparkling like they already loved the version of him they hadn’t even seen on screen yet.

“Deep breath,” his manager p'ko whispered before he walked out on stage.

Est smiled. “Always.”

The signing session was sweet. Fans gave him heartfelt letters, matching keychains, custom phone cases, skincare kits, and snacks. He loved this part—talking to them directly. Their excitement made everything feel worth it.

A teenage girl with soft bangs and braces passed him a lavender-scented candle. “I lit this when you got sick. My grandma said lavender heals.”

Est chuckled, eyes warm. “Tell your grandma thank you. Maybe that’s what brought me back.”

Throughout the day, Lykn stood guard. They didn’t blend in—but that wasn’t their job. Tui managed crowd control near the aisles. Nut was by the back entrance, always alert. Lego handled equipment staff and occasionally grinned when fans complimented Est too enthusiastically.

Hong looked bored, but Est knew better. The guy missed nothing.

William stood behind Est the entire time. Not once did he move from his spot. Not once did his eyes leave the room.

They didn’t speak.

But Est felt him there. Always.

Later that night, Est returned to his apartment, arms full of gifts.

“Living the dream,” Nut muttered, dropping the last box on Est’s coffee table with a dramatic sigh.

“This is better than Christmas,” Lego added, practically bouncing in place. “Can we stay for the unboxing?”

Tui was already removing his shoes and settling into the rug. “We’re not leaving, even if he says no.”

Est laughed, breathless. “I never said no.”

Hong hovered near the window, phone in hand. William stood by the doorway, arms crossed, still watching—but less like a bodyguard now, and more like… something else. Est couldn’t name it.

He sat on the floor and began opening gifts one by one.

There were soft toys. Handwritten notes. Warm scarves. Boxes of tea. Cute stickers and framed fan art. Every item felt like a small declaration: we waited for you. We still believe in you.

Est smiled so hard his cheeks hurt.

Then he saw it—a simple white box, with no decorations. Just a small red label sealing the flap. There was no name. No card.

“What’s that one?” Lego asked, leaning forward.

“Looks fancy,” Nut added.

Est turned it in his hands. The red label was perfectly centered.

“Open it,” Tui urged.

Est peeled the seal back carefully, his fingers slowing as he noticed William shift subtly from his spot—only a step forward, maybe two, but Est felt it like a shift in air pressure.

He opened the box.

At first glance, it looked simple—too simple. Just layers of pale tissue paper folded neatly, not crumpled like most gift wrappings.

His fingers paused.

Tui leaned closer. “Why does that look… too neat?”

Nut tilted his head. “Is it perfume?”

“No smell,” Est murmured, peeling away the top layer.

Inside, nestled in the tissue, was a black-and-white photograph.

Est frowned, lifting it carefully.

It was a candid shot of him. Not from an event or magazine—this was different. He was seated on a park bench, back slightly slouched, hoodie pulled over his head. A takeaway coffee cup in hand. No one else in the frame.

He didn’t even remember when this was taken. Months ago, probably when he was going through that ugly scandal.

“…Is that you?” Lego whispered.

Est didn’t reply. He stared at the photo, something cold crawling up his spine.

There was no note. No signature. Nothing else in the box—except a single pressed flower, yellow and brittle, placed beneath the picture like an afterthought.

A daisy. His favourite flower.

Creepy.

Tui stood slowly. “Est.”

Est blinked and finally looked up.

William was already beside him.

He hadn’t said a word, but something in his eyes had shifted—calm as ever on the outside, but sharpened like the click of a safety coming off.

“Give it to me,” William said quietly, his hand already extended.

Est passed the photo over without a word.

William glanced at the image, then at the box. "Hong."

“Already on it,” Hong replied, taking the box with gloved hands like he’d done this before. Probably had.

Est exhaled slowly, trying to stop the weight from sinking deeper in his stomach. “It’s probably just a fan who got too bold.”

“No,” William said. “This is planned. Timed. Controlled.”

“Maybe it’s just a scare tactic,” Nut muttered, his easygoing tone gone.

William didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on Est—assessing, protective.

Est sat back on the rug, fingers curling slightly. Solely focusing on his breathing.

He should’ve felt scared. Maybe a little part of him did. But more than anything, what he felt was exposed.

He hadn’t even known he was being watched. Even if he knew, he didn't know what he would have done. Probably scared, just like now.

No one really said much after the photo.

The gift boxes lay forgotten on the floor, the laughter from earlier gone like a light switched off. Hong disappeared into a phone call with the agency’s internal threat team. Tui and Nut muttered in low voices by the window, scanning the perimeter. Even Lego, usually the loudest, sat curled into the couch cushion, fidgeting with a pen.

Est tried to act normal. Tried to keep his breathing steady.

But when he pressed his fingers to his wrist, his pulse was racing.

The image wouldn’t leave his mind. That photo. That flower.

It wasn’t just creepy—it was knowing. Whoever sent it had gotten close. Too close.

After a thorough discussion with the BH team, everyone finally began to settle down.

The tension hadn't really eased, but exhaustion did what words couldn’t.

One by one, the members of Lykn moved toward their rooms. Est did too. Quietly. Even though deep down, he felt the same tight coil in his stomach—that nausea of being watched. A presence he couldn't place. He didn’t say it out loud. Didn’t want the attention.

So he just slipped away before anyone could stop him, before anyone could offer concern or comfort.

Lykn respected his space. No one followed. No one knocked.

After a quick wash-up, Est lay down on his bed. Blankets up to his chin, eyes wide open.

His mind replayed every frame of the day. Every smile, every glance from fans, every second he stood on that stage. Nothing had felt off. Nothing had happened. No strange faces, no stalker signs. So where did the box come from?

He kept turning and tossing, not even grazing the edge of sleep.

He tried everything. ASMR videos, a half-hearted scroll through cat compilations, random vlogs, and late-night mukbangs. Nothing helped. That creeping feeling stayed—like someone was in the room with him. Just beyond his sight.

It was sometime past midnight.

The room was quiet. Dark, except for the soft amber glow of the nightlight in the corner. Est lay curled up beneath the covers, blanket twisted around him.

Every sound from the hallway made him flinch. The low hum of the AC. The faraway click of the fridge door. A faint tap-tap, maybe from the pipes. Shadows moved on the ceiling. Longer than they should’ve been.

He turned over again. And again. His body ached from how tightly he’d been holding it.

Then—

A sound.

A creak. Soft. Barely there. Maybe the floorboard. Maybe not.

Est’s breath caught.

He sat up slowly, his fingers clutching the blanket. His eyes darted to the corner. Nothing moved—but the pressure in his chest was growing.

He knew the boys were just outside. One call, and they'd be here in seconds. The room was locked. He knew that.

But his heart didn’t care.

And when he saw a vague shift in the darkness—nothing clear, just a trick of the shadows maybe—he didn’t wait to confirm. He jumped out from under the covers, stumbling toward the door.

The hallway light was still on.

The boys were awake.

But Est didn’t move further. He just stood in the doorway, frozen, arms wrapped around himself.

Then—

“Est.”

The voice was soft. Familiar.

William.

He was coming down the hall from the living room, dressed in a white t-shirt and loose sweatpants. Est noticed how his usual sleek workwear was gone. He looked human. Unarmored.

William stopped when he saw him. His head tilted slightly.

Est tried to smile. “Sorry. Did I wake you?”

William stepped closer. “No. You haven’t slept.”

“…Can’t,” Est admitted. His voice cracked slightly. “Feels like someone’s still watching.”

William didn’t speak at first. He looked at Est, really looked. Not as a bodyguard. Not as a colleague. Just—Est.

He stepped in front of him, voice low. “Are you okay?”

That question—so simple—nearly broke him.

Est looked exhausted. Eyes heavy, cheeks pale, posture slouched like he was seconds away from a breakdown. Physically worn down. Mentally frayed.

Then, wordlessly, William reached out. His hand curled gently around Est’s wrist and tugged him softly back inside his room.

His touch was warm. Careful.

“I’ll stay here,” he said.

Est blinked. “Here as in—?”

Before he could finish, William had already moved. He sat at the edge of the bed, then leaned back to lie down beside Est—respectful, calm, like he’d done this before.

Est stared at him for a moment. “You sure?”

William nodded, already settling into the pillow. “Sleep. No one’s touching you… not while I’m here.”

Est hesitated only a moment, then climbed back into bed. Quietly. Gratefully.

He knew why William was doing this. Because he knew Est would never ask for help—not directly. So William stepped in, quietly, the way he always did.

Est turned on his side, inching closer. The warmth from William’s body radiated like a small fire. Safe. Unmoving.

Without thinking, Est pressed his forehead lightly against William’s shoulder.

Silence.

Then—a hand moved.

An arm wrapped around his waist, firm and protective. William’s palm rested lightly against the small of his back.

Like he’d done this before.

Like he wanted to.

Est let out a slow breath. For the first time all day, it wasn’t shaky.

“Still scared?” William asked, barely above a whisper. His voice, grounding.

Est swallowed. “A little.”

William didn’t respond right away.

Then he leaned in, brushing a soft, lingering kiss against Est’s forehead. A promise in motion.

I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

William didn’t say it. He didn’t need to.

Est’s lashes fluttered shut.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Only let his fingers curl faintly into the blanket, heart pressing hard against his ribs.

So it wasn’t just in my head…

Then, he just… let himself be held.

And for the first time since opening that cursed box, he felt safe again.

Safe in William Jakrapatr’s arms.

Wrapped in his quiet strength.

Small spoon, warm heartbeat, forehead still tingling.

He slept like a baby.

Chapter Text

When Est opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed wasn’t the bright morning light, like every other day.

It was warmth.

A weight around his waist. The faint scent of pine and something crisp—like clean linen. And someone’s breath, soft and steady, against the back of his neck.

He blinked once. Twice.

William.

They were still in the same position as last night—his body curled into William’s chest like a secret.

For a long moment, Est didn’t move. His heart thudded—slow and uncertain, caught between panic and surrender. He remembered pieces of the night before. The way William had held him without asking. The way he didn’t need to say a word to make Est feel safe.

And the kiss. That forehead kiss.

He swore he could still feel it tingling there, like a memory too tender to be real.

Did I imagine it? Was my mind playing tricks on me?

His throat tightened.

He wanted to ask. He wanted to know. But William was still asleep behind him, breathing gently, as though the entire night hadn’t happened. As though he hadn’t held Est like something he couldn't afford to lose.

So Est stayed still. He let himself linger in that fragile warmth. Pretending it meant nothing.
Pretending he didn’t want it to mean everything.

It’s not like Est had never been kissed before. He had. He’d had experiences—some soft, some messy. But nothing like this.

No one had ever made him feel like this.

He wouldn’t say it aloud—not yet—but something inside him was starting to whisper the truth:This might be love.
And whatever he’d called love before… it paled in comparison.

Before his thoughts could spiral further, he felt William stir behind him.

Panic gripped him. He squeezed his eyes shut, feigning sleep.

The silence stretched.

And then—
A gentle touch.

A finger traced the curve of his cheek. Slowly.
Tenderly.

Est knew. He knew it was William. His stomach erupted with butterflies, fluttering madly.

The finger paused.

Right at his lips.

Est’s breath hitched—unintentionally. Barely audible. But real.

Then, just as suddenly, the touch vanished.

The mattress dipped slightly as William shifted. A beat later, Est heard the soft creak of the floorboard and the almost inaudible click of the door closing behind him.

Only then did Est finally breathe—deep and shaky, as if he’d been holding it in all along.

He lay there, heart pounding, wide awake in a bed that still carried William’s warmth.

And he wondered—what now?

The room felt too quiet once William left.

The warmth on his skin hadn’t even cooled yet, and already Est missed it. Missed him.

He rolled onto his back slowly, staring up at the ceiling. The morning light had begun to stream in through the blinds, cutting faint lines across the room like bars—like the kind that kept everything he was feeling locked up tight.

His fingers drifted to his lips. They tingled. Still.
Not from a kiss. But from the almost.

That finger… it had paused there, right at the edge of something. A line neither of them had dared to cross, not yet. But it had been close. Too close. And Est didn’t know if he should be terrified or hopeful.

Maybe both.

He sat up with a sigh, the sheets pooling at his waist. The silence was louder now, the kind that made your chest ache. He pulled the covers off and stood, padding over to the window. Outside, the world was alive and indifferent—cars humming, birds flitting past, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. A normal day. Nothing extraordinary.

And yet, something inside him had shifted. Quietly. Tremendously.

He caught his reflection in the glass. Hair a mess. Eyes still soft with sleep. Lips slightly parted like they were still waiting.

“Get a grip,” he muttered under his breath, turning away.

But his heart wouldn’t listen.

He pulled on a hoodie and stepped into the hallway, feet light, almost reluctant—like the moment he passed through the door, something precious would vanish. He wasn’t ready to see William just yet. Not when his feelings were still sitting so loudly in his chest.

But he paused right outside William's room, he leaned against the door and heard the sound of running water. William’s voice followed—soft humming. Off-key. Familiar.

Est froze. That sound did something to him.
Made his knees just a little weak.

He wanted to wait. Wanted to stand there like a fool and listen forever.

But instead, he walked away—quietly, quickly—pretending like he hadn’t stopped at all.

He ended up in the living room, where sunlight spilled over the couch and the abandoned throw blanket from last night. The TV remote lay forgotten on the armrest, and their half-finished mugs from the night before still sat on the table.

Evidence of something delicate. Something shared.

Est curled up on the couch and tucked his knees to his chest. He wasn’t ready to face William, but he also couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Not after that night.

Not after that touch.

Not after that almost kiss.

He sighed again, resting his chin on his knees.

What if William didn’t remember? What if it had meant nothing to him? What if it had meant something… but he regretted it?

Est didn’t know which answer would hurt more.

The sound of footsteps down the hallway made his heart skip.

They were coming closer.

He didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

The next second, William appeared in the doorway—hair damp, hoodie half-zipped, his eyes meeting Est’s across the space.

There was a pause. A silence that stretched long and taut.And then—

"Morning," William said, voice soft, careful.

Est swallowed. His lips twitched into something like a smile, but his voice came out quieter than intended.

“Morning.”

William looked like he wanted to say something else. His gaze lingered a little too long. But instead of speaking, he crossed the room and sat on the other side of the couch, close but not too close.

A safety gap.

Est hated that gap.

“Did you sleep okay?” William asked.

Est nodded, eyes fixed on the coffee table. “Yeah. Better than I have in a while.”

Another silence.

And then, without looking at him, William said—

“…You didn’t imagine it.”

Est’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide.

William was still staring straight ahead, face unreadable. But his hands were clenched in his lap, like he was holding back more than just words.

Est blinked. Once. Twice.

“Then why did you leave?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

William exhaled, long and slow. “Because if I’d stayed… I would’ve done something I can’t take back.”

Est’s heart fluttered in his chest. “Like what?”

William finally turned to look at him.

And in that moment, Est felt it. All of it.

The tension. The longing. The things neither of them had said out loud but had always been there, dancing at the edges of their every glance.

“Like kiss you,” William said.

And Est—

Est didn’t look away.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t panic.

He just whispered, “You still can.”

William froze.

Est’s words echoed in the quiet room like something sacred—You still can.

But before either of them could move, a voice cut through the moment like a dull blade:

“Oi, are you both decent? We’re making eggs!”

It was Nut.

Est’s eyes widened, and he instantly sat straighter on the couch, pulling his hoodie tighter like it could hide the flush creeping up his neck. William let out a breath that was equal parts frustration and reluctant amusement, dragging a hand down his face.

The moment was gone. Slipped through their fingers. Again.

Nut barged in without waiting, already mid-sentence. “I told Hong not to burn the toast, but you know how dramatic he gets when—oh. Oh.”

He paused.

His eyes moved between Est and William, still seated far too closely, the air between them suspiciously thick.

“Oh,” Nut repeated, slower this time. “Did I just interrupt a—?”

“No,” William cut in, standing up too quickly.

“Yes,” Nut smirked.

William ignored him.

Est buried his face in his knees.

Nut flopped down on the armrest of the couch. “Well, just so you know, Tui’s doing recon with Lego outside. No suspicious activity yet. But Hong’s convinced we’re being watched through the plants. I told him that’s just his own reflection.”

Est finally looked up, concern flickering behind his eyes. “The gift… has anything new come in?”

Nut’s expression shifted immediately. Gone was the teasing smile. “No. Not yet. But Tui thinks the address label on the box might’ve been tampered with. He’s still scanning the footage.”

William was already halfway toward the hallway, muttering under his breath. “I’m checking the perimeter again.”

Est stood up too. “I’ll help.”

“No,” William said firmly, not looking back. “You stay inside. With Nut. Lock the windows, don’t go near the front door.”

“But—”

“I mean it, Est.”

The sudden command in his voice silenced him.

It wasn’t harsh. Just… protective. Too protective.

Nut sighed and pulled Est back down onto the couch before he could argue again. “Hey, trust us, okay? That gift last night—it wasn’t just a threat. It was personal.”

Est's stomach turned at the memory.

The contents of that plain, innocent-looking box were burned into his mind: A private photo of him—taken from an angle no one should’ve had access to. And that red label. No return address. No fingerprints. Just the chilling reminder that someone was watching. Close. Too close.

Est’s fingers trembled slightly against the fabric of his sleeves. “Do you think it’s the same guy from the past?”

Nut didn’t answer right away. “We’re not sure. Could be. But this one’s… bolder.”

Est didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Hong peeked his head into the living room. “Security says they found traces of tire marks behind the hedges. They didn’t match any of ours.”

Est sat up straighter. “So he really was here?”

“Looks like it.” Hong gave him a reassuring smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “We’re not taking any chances, okay? We’re going to keep you safe, no matter what.”

Just then, Tui and Lego returned through the back, both carrying folders and half-drunk energy drinks. They looked exhausted but sharp-eyed.

William reappeared too, shoulders tense, hoodie damp from the morning air. He stood in the doorway for a moment, surveying them all. His gaze locked on Est, and for the briefest second, something softened.

“Let's get ready for the meeting first." William said. “Every second is valuable right now.”

Everyone stilled.

“Okay, okay!” Nut laughed, throwing his hands up. “But seriously—if anyone tries anything, they’ll have to get through all five of us.”

Est looked around at them—his ridiculous, overprotective, chaotic group of bodyguards. His heart felt heavy, but not in a bad way. Just full. Too full.

And somewhere in the mess of danger, secret kisses, and teasing threats… he realized something.

Atleast he wasn’t alone anymore.

And maybe—just maybe—that meant he could afford to fall a little deeper.

Even if the world outside was watching.

__________

The meeting room was too cold.
Or maybe it was the nerves.

Est sat beside William at the long oval table, flanked by Nut and Hong. Tui and Lego stood near the door, posture alert—arms crossed in that way that made them look less like university heartthrobs and more like the trained professionals they actually were.

CEO Jin entered with his usual quiet authority—black suit pristine, silver watch catching the overhead lights—as he pulled out a chair directly across from Est.

“Morning,” he greeted, his gaze sweeping across the room. “I trust the night was… eventful?”

William didn’t answer. His jaw was tense, unreadable.

Est glanced at him before speaking. “There was a gift box.”

Jin exhaled sharply through his nose. “I heard. Tui sent me the photos. Surveillance footage?”

“No clear face,” Tui replied, arms still folded. “Just a set of unfamiliar tire marks. Whoever it was—they knew the blind spots.”

“That makes it inside work,” Hong muttered under his breath.

Lego nodded silently, brow furrowed.

Jin leaned back, fingers steepled. His expression was unreadable. “We’ve increased patrols around your current location, but frankly… I’m not convinced it’s enough anymore. This stalker isn’t just testing boundaries anymore. They’re escalating.”

Est felt a cold coil twist inside his chest.

“We’ll be moving him,” William said.

All eyes turned to him.

Est blinked. “Wait—what?”

William’s gaze remained fixed on Jin. “Today. The location is compromised. He knew the address. Knew which floor to target. That’s not random—it’s calculated.”

Jin tapped a finger against the table. “Do you already have a location in mind?”

“A house under my name,” William replied. “Rural edge of the city. Quiet. Gated. Off the grid. It’s not listed under any official record since I bought it last year. Only Nut knows the access route.”

Nut nodded, unusually serious. “I mapped it during our off-hours. There’s a back trail only locals use. We’ve kept it off digital maps.”

Est crossed his arms, trying to keep his voice steady. “You planned all this without telling me?”

William finally looked at him, eyes dark and unwavering. “I plan a lot of things when it comes to your safety.”

That silenced Est.

P’Ko, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “It’s a good decision. His apartment address has been public for a while now. This way, he can actually rest before the promotional period next week. And we get enough time to scout for a more permanent solution.”

CEO Jin’s gaze lingered on William and Est, something unspoken passing behind his eyes—understanding, maybe. Or permission.

“You have my approval,” he said at last. “Move him today. He’s to return only for the series promotion next week. Understood?”

Est tried not to bristle. “Can we stop saying ‘move him’ like I’m some priceless artifact?”

“You kind of are,” Nut said with a grin, earning an elbow from Hong.

Jin stood. “I’ll send a team to sweep the current site. If anything useful turns up, you’ll know first.” He looked straight at Est. “Don’t take this lightly. Whoever’s behind this… they’re not just obsessed. They’re getting closer.”

Est gave a quiet nod, the lump in his throat too large to speak around.

Jin gave William a final nod before walking out. The door clicked shut behind him.

The shift in the room was immediate.

Tui pushed off the wall, stretching. “So… road trip?”

“No stops. No detours,” William said firmly. “Nut and Lego, you’ll go ahead and secure the property. Tui, Hong—you’ll follow our car from behind.”

Est rose slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. “So that’s it? Just pack up and disappear?”

“It’s not disappearing,” William said quietly. “It’s surviving.”

Est looked at him. “But you’ll be with me?”

William’s eyes softened—just a fraction, but it was enough. “Every step.”

And somehow, that was all Est needed to hear.

Chapter Text

"I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING FOR ONLY FOUR DAYS?? WHY ARE YOU PACKING LIKE IT’S AN APOCALYPSE OR SOMETHING LEGO?!"

Nut’s voice echoed through the hallway, full of disbelief as he watched Lego zip up his fourth bag—not counting the one already loaded into the car.

As per William’s suggestion, Nut and Lego were the first ones assigned to scout out the new place.
So they were the first to move out.

Meanwhile, the rest of them including Est were still in the process of packing. The mood in the house was tense, but not unpleasant. After all, this was technically a vacation, even if it was a short one.

Est had already called his parents to inform them about the move. Naturally, he avoided mentioning the real reason behind it.

If they ever found out about the stalker and the disturbing gift, they'd likely show up at his apartment in no time.

Est sat in his room, going through his bag one last time to double-check the essentials for the next few days. But his thoughts kept drifting—
To this sudden shift, to the fact that he was leaving a place that had quietly become... home.

He’d lived here for almost two years. This space had witnessed his solitude, his struggles, and his small triumphs. He’d gone from living alone to living with five other guys who now felt like family.
Even if it hadn’t felt like home in the beginning, it had slowly become one.

But of course, nothing in his life stayed the same.
Everything had to change, one way or another.

So deep in thought, he didn’t hear the knock. Nor did he notice when William stepped inside, holding a side bag of his own—already packed and ready.

“Est… you ready?” William’s voice was soft, as always.

Est blinked up, startled, before sitting up straight. “Uh... yeah. Done.”

He stood, reaching for his bag, but William was faster. He moved in effortlessly, taking it from Est’s hands. Their fingers brushed.

And then—William didn’t let go.

“Change is hard,” William said, his voice gentle, still holding Est’s hand. “But let’s consider this a new beginning, hmm?”

Est could only nod, wondering—as he always did—how William seemed to read his mind so easily. How he always said the things Est needed to hear most.

They stepped outside together.

Nut and Lego had already left. Tui and Hong stood waiting, the last two to depart.

Tui locked the front door behind them. Then, they all separated to different cars in the parking lot.

They hit the road shortly after. Tui and Hong followed close behind in another car, while William took the wheel of theirs, Est sat in the passenger seat.

The sky had started to shift into that soft, golden hue of late afternoon—like it, too, was slowly packing away the day.

The first twenty minutes were spent in silence, the kind that wasn’t heavy but comfortably stretched out between them. William hummed along to the soft indie playlist playing through the car’s speakers, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally drumming against his thigh.

Est stared out the window, letting the wind cool the warmth still lingering on his face from earlier. Their fingers had only brushed. And yet, it stayed with him.

Further ahead, Nut’s voice exploded through the group chat speaker in the car.

Nut: "WILLIAM!! Please tell Lego to stop acting like a GPS! He’s giving directions like he swallowed Google Maps."

Lego: "Because I know the route."

Nut: "You said take a right and now we’re literally at a dead end??"

Lego: "A detour builds character."

Est chuckled under his breath, hiding his smile behind his hand.

William glanced at him from the corner of his eye. “You’re smiling.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are,” he said, a little softer, like it was something rare. Something he wanted to protect.

They passed fields stretching out endlessly, the occasional roadside shop, random kids waving at their cars as they zoomed by. Somewhere between a slow love song and a Nut and Lego scream fest, the world outside melted into something quieter.

Est tilted his head against the window. “You think we’ll be safe there?”

“We will,” William replied firmly. “I made sure of it.”

Est nodded, eyes half-lidded. “It still feels like we’re running away.”

“Maybe,” William admitted. “But not alone.”

That made Est turn to look at him.

William glanced at him briefly, meeting his eyes. “We’re all in this together. And I’m not letting anything happen to you. I promise.”

Est didn't reply. He just looked at him for a second longer, then turned away—heart loud, mind louder.

Somewhere along the highway, they stopped at a roadside stall. Tui and Hong pulled up beside them, Tui dramatically flinging the door open.

“We almost hit a cow,” he announced flatly.

William raised a brow. “Is Hong okay?”

“I’m the one who almost screamed,” Hong muttered, handing Est a cold soda. “Here. You looked like you needed it.”

As everyone stretched and munched on cheap chips and sticky rice packets, Nut managed to slip a rose he’d bought from a roadside vendor into Est’s bag with a whisper: “From your secret admirer. Who may or may not be six feet tall, drives like a maniac, and keeps stealing glances at you.”

Est’s eyes flicked to William. Then away. Cute.

Back on the road, the mood shifted slightly.

The playlist slowed. The sky began to turn gold, leaking into pinks and lavender. William reached out and, without a word, adjusted Est’s seatbelt, his fingers brushing too long against Est’s collarbone.

Est turned his face to the window again, but he didn’t stop the small smile.

“Hey, William,” Est said after a beat breaking the tension, “If I get carsick, will you carry me out?”

William didn’t even blink. “Always.”

Est bit back a laugh. “That was supposed to be sarcastic.”

“I wasn’t.”

They hit traffic halfway, stuck in a long line of cars near a construction site. Nut used it as an excuse to climb halfway into Est’s car window, holding up a bag of snacks like he was offering treasure.

“Emergency chocolate,” he declared. “To prevent fighting and—” He paused, noticing the faint blush still lingering on Est’s cheeks. “Ah. Never mind. The tension’s already delicious in here.”

Lego honked.

“YOU SAID RIGHT AND NOW WE’RE LEFT OF NOWHERE!”

“Patience, Nut,” Lego said serenely. “GPS is an illusion.”

William let out a deep sigh, muttering, “We should’ve left them behind.”

Est laughed under his breath. “Then it wouldn’t be us.”

As the sun finally dipped below the hills, their car rolled into silence again.

This time, William reached out and turned the music down completely. The road was empty ahead. Stars began peeking out one by one.

“I like this,” Est said softly.

“Me too.”

“I mean, the chaos... the yelling... you knowing exactly when to take the next exit like you’ve done this before.”

“I have. With my sister once. It was the last trip we took before I moved out.”

“Oh...”

They were quiet again.

Then William said, without looking at him, “But I think I like this one better.”

Est swallowed, too full of feeling to reply.

They arrived just as the sky dipped into early evening, the edges of orange turning indigo.

The safe house stood at the edge of a quiet forested slope, away from the city, wrapped in mist and evening light. It was much bigger than Est expected—modern but cozy, with wide glass windows and a balcony overlooking the hills.

Nut had already claimed his kingdom.

“I CALL THE ROOM WITH THE BALCONY!” he yelled from the top floor like a victorious warlord. “TRY ME IF YOU DARE!”

“I dare,” Lego said from the staircase, casually tossing his bag inside the same room.

Tui followed with a clap. “Let the roommate battle begin.”

Est entered quietly, gaze sweeping over the high ceilings, the open living area, the faint scent of pine. The place felt… peaceful. Safe. It was meant to be.

“Let’s put our bags down first,” William said beside him, already moving toward the hallway.

Rooms stretched out in both directions—three on the left, three on the right.

Hong and Tui immediately started poking around the first room.

“This is mine,” Hong declared, tossing his duffel on the bed.

“You’re not even going to check the others?”

“Nope. Closest to the kitchen.”

“Respect.”

A few minutes later, the chaos resumed downstairs.

“WHY IS LEGO IN MY ROOM?”
“Because Nut’s playlists will kill me in my sleep.”
“THAT’S CALLED TASTE.”
“THAT’S CALLED TORTURE.”

William returned to Est’s side, a small amused smile playing on his lips. “So... which room do you want?”

Est shrugged. “Anything’s fine. You?”

“I don’t mind either. Should we just pick the far end?”

Est followed him. The last room was tucked quietly at the corner, far from the others. It had a large window, soft yellow lighting, and twin beds separated by a nightstand.

“Looks like this one's free.”

Est set his bag down near one bed, unsure if he should ask.

“Um… is this okay?” he said after a beat.

William nodded, not even hesitating. “Yeah. Unless you want your own room?”

Est shook his head quickly. “No! I mean—I don’t mind sharing. It’s… familiar now, I guess.”

A beat passed. William smiled.

“Same here.”

Downstairs, Nut had declared a truce with Lego after getting the larger closet. Tui and Hong were already arguing over dinner duties, while Est lingered by the kitchen shelf, organizing tea sachets.

William passed him a mug quietly, filled with warm lemon water. Est blinked.

“You remembered.”

“You only drink tea late at night when you’re stressed. But if it's evening, lemon water.”

Est took it slowly, fingers brushing William’s again.

There it was again—that warmth. That quiet closeness neither of them ever named.

Later that night, after rooms had been claimed, shelves filled, and duffel bags hidden under beds, they all gathered in the living area. Someone put on a movie they barely watched. Snacks were passed around. Nut fell asleep halfway through the plot. Hong sat on the floor with a blanket over his head. Tui was live-blogging their vacation on his private story.

Est felt the fatigue creep in, but more than that, he felt oddly… content.

Safe.

He turned slightly, glancing at William, who had leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed, arms crossed, head tilted just barely in Est’s direction.

The noise faded.

For a moment, it felt like they were the only ones in the room.

Est didn’t say anything. He just smiled quietly to himself.

Tomorrow, they’d face whatever came next.

But tonight... they had this. They had eachother.

Chapter Text

Est woke to the gentle rustle of curtains and the hush of morning light filtering through the wide windows. Outside, the forest was cloaked in early fog—the kind that made everything feel like a dream not quite ready to end.

For a moment, he forgot where he was.

Then he turned—and there was William. Still asleep in the bed across from him, his blanket half-spilled onto the floor, one arm thrown over his head, hair tousled like a storm had passed through it.

Est watched him for a heartbeat too long.

There was something peaceful about him like this. Something almost boyish. The ever-composed, sharp-edged William looked undone now—unguarded and soft, as if sleep had peeled back every layer he usually wore. Est had the sudden, aching urge to reach out and run his fingers through that mess of hair.

Instead, he quietly slipped out of bed, threw on a hoodie, and tiptoed out the door.

Downstairs was already chaos.

“I CAN’T FIND THE MILK!” Nut’s dramatic wail echoed from the kitchen.

“Because you put it in the pantry, genius,” Hong mumbled, still half-asleep and wrapped in two blankets like a sulking dumpling.

Lego sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter, eating cereal straight from the box. “Do we even have a stove? Or are we going full wilderness and eating everything raw?”

“We are feral,” Tui announced, holding a frying pan like a war trophy. “Breakfast is survival of the fittest.”

Est chuckled, sleeves pulled over his hands. “Anyone made tea?”

“On it,” Tui said, tossing him a tea packet. “Guess who snores the loudest?”

Est raised an eyebrow. “Lego?”

“Nope.”

“Nut?”

“Wrong again.”

“…William?”

Tui gasped. “He doesn’t snore. He breathes in stereo.”

Right then, William walked into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes, hair somehow even messier than before. “I heard that.”

Everyone scattered.

Tui dropped the frying pan. Hong fled without a word. Est just bit back his smile behind the rim of his cup.

“You sleep okay?” William asked, voice still husky with sleep.

Est nodded. “Yeah. You?”

William gave a faint, sleepy smile. “Better than I have in days.”

Oh no. That smile. That boyish, heart-stealing smile.

By mid-morning, a rhythm had found them.

Tui and Hong begrudgingly took over breakfast duties. Nut and Lego were banned from the kitchen after almost causing a fire—“I was testing oil combustion rates!” Nut had insisted. Est and William took care of the rest—stocking groceries, unpacking, setting up the common spaces.

“Feels like we’re playing house,” Est mumbled, stacking instant noodles into neat rows.

William looked over. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Their eyes met.

Just for a second.

Just long enough.

Later, while the others napped or wandered out to the balcony, Est stepped into the backyard, drawn by the quiet. The trees whispered in the breeze, sunlight dappling the wooden bench where he now sat, knees pulled to his chest.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Daou.

The call barely rang before it was picked up.

“WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN? I HAVEN’T HEARD FROM YOU IN DECADES!”

Est sighed, smiling to himself. Daou’s dramatics were eternal. Without replying, he flipped the camera to show the misty mountains and the pine trees hugging the sky.

“See? I’m on vacation.”

His voice sounded lighter. Happier.

Daou quieted, eyes narrowing at the screen. “Where is this? When did you leave? Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t we go together?!”

“Ask one at a time, my god.” Est laughed, then added, “We just got here yesterday. Thought I’d show you the view.”

“We?” Daou squinted. “Who’s we? Est Supha—ARE YOU DATING—”

“No,” Est interrupted, flustered. “It’s just Lykn. My… security squad.”

Daou fell silent.

Est knew the next question before it was asked.

“Why the sudden trip? Is everything okay?” Daou’s voice softened.

“What? Can’t I go on vacation without being interrogated?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Est hesitated, then gave a vague answer. “Just needed some space. From everything.”

Daou stared for a second. Then, as expected, came the rapid-fire concern. “Are you okay? How are you feeling? Why didn’t you call me, Est? Best friends check in, you idiot!”

Est didn’t get a chance to respond before Offroad popped into frame, wrapping an arm around Daou and whispering something that made him calm down.

“Hi, Offroad,” Est said with a small smile.

“Hi, troublemaker,” Offroad grinned back.

“See?” Offroad said to Daou. “He’s clearly doing fine.”

Daou sulked. “You better not be lying.”

Est laughed. “You two need to stop being so cute. It’s unfair.”

“I’m still checking on you once you're back,” Daou warned. “No more dodging with your packed schedules, okay?”

Est nodded, touched. In this world of masks and cameras, friendships like this were rare. Real.

Before he could say more, the door behind him creaked open.

William stepped out, holding two mugs.

“Hot chocolate,” he said, offering one. “Thought you’d want something sweet after lunch.”

Est blinked, surprised. Their fingers brushed as he took the mug. “Thanks…”

William’s gaze flicked to the phone. “Friends?”

Est nodded. “Daou and Offroad.”

Daou, still watching through the screen, immediately called out, “Ohh, I see. You are having fun.”

Embarrassed, Est shifted over, making space for William. William sat without hesitation and greeted the two on the screen.

“This is William—Lykn’s team lead. We’re staying at his place,” Est explained quickly, trying to deflect Daou’s teasing.

Offroad and Daou exchanged knowing looks.

“I’m glad you’re not alone,” Offroad said kindly. “Take care of him, William. He’s a baby in a six-foot body.”

Est groaned. “I am not a baby—”

“I’m more than happy to take care of him,” William said, cutting in with a soft smile.

Est flushed crimson. Completely silent now.

Before Daou could respond, Est hastily ended the call with a rushed, “Talk later, bye!” and Daou yelling, “I’M COMING TO YOUR HOUSE, YOU HEAR ME?”

A beat of silence passed.

“You didn’t have to say that,” Est murmured, eyes on his mug. “They know it’s your job.”

“It’s not just a job anymore.”

Est looked at him. Still. Searching.

“Then… what is it?”

“Whatever you’re thinking,” William said, voice low and full of certainty, “you’re right.”

Silence.

The kind that says everything without speaking. The kind that makes your heart dare to hope.

“I used to think,” Est whispered, “that I’d always be alone.”

William didn’t interrupt.

“Not in a sad way. Just… some people aren’t made for closeness. For warmth. I thought I was one of them.”

“You’re not,” William said, certain. “You just hadn’t met the right people yet.”

Est turned, eyes soft. “And what about now? Have I?”

There was teasing in his voice, but also vulnerability.

William didn’t look away. “Then hold on to them.”

The door slammed open.

“GUYS!” Nut shouted. “We’re playing truth or dare and someone’s about to get exposed. You have five seconds!”

Est burst into laughter, standing slowly. “Guess we’re needed.”

William stood with him, their arms brushing.

“Hey,” he said softly, just before they turned. “For what it’s worth… I’m glad you’re not alone anymore.”

Est didn’t say a word.

But the way he smiled—quiet, genuine, full—was answer enough.

By the time Est and William reentered the living room, the space had already been transformed.

The couch cushions were dragged into a wide circle on the floor. Blankets tangled around limbs. Hong was curled up like a sleepy cat, Lego was dramatically balancing an empty bottle in the center, and Nut looked far too excited for anyone’s peace of mind.

“We’re playing TRUTH OR DARE, baby,” Nut grinned like a gremlin. “Losers get exposed. Secrets get spilled. Love lives ruined—”

“We get it,” Tui cut in, smacking his arm. “Just spin the bottle, drama king.”

Est hesitated in the doorway. William gently nudged his shoulder.

“Come on. I’ll sit next to you. No one dares to dare me anyway.”

Est squinted at him. “You do realize how arrogant that sounds?”

“I meant it in a comforting way,” William replied, deadpan.

The first few rounds were harmless.

Lego was dared to do twenty push-ups—he made it to seven before collapsing with a wail of defeat.
Tui had to send a voice note to his ex saying “I miss you.”
Nut, grinning like a devil, chose truth and admitted he still kept a shirt that belonged to his high school crush.

Then the bottle landed on Est.

“Truth,” Est said quickly, sitting cross-legged.

Nut leaned in, eyes gleaming. “Have you ever had a crush on someone in this room?”

The air shifted.

Est’s lips parted. “I—what kind of—”

“That’s a yes,” Lego sang.

William’s gaze was calm, unreadable—but locked on him.

Est exhaled slowly, his cheeks warm. “I plead the fifth.”

“You can’t!” Nut gasped.

Est sipped his drink with exaggerated innocence. “I just did.”

Hong clapped. “A man of mystery. I respect it.”

A few spins later, the bottle pointed squarely at William.

Everyone leaned in. Too curious. Too eager.

“T-R-U-T-H,” Nut chanted like he was summoning something unholy. “Tell us the last thing that made your heart race.”

William didn’t even hesitate.

He turned, slowly, toward Est. Eyes steady. Voice soft. “That moment earlier... when we were sitting outside.”

Est’s heart skipped.

The room went still.

Nut blinked. “Oh. Okay. Wow.”

Tui choked on his drink. Lego collapsed into a dramatic swoon. Hong just exchanged a silent, knowing look with Tui.

Est buried his face in his sleeves, warmth creeping up to his ears.

“Next round,” he mumbled, barely audible.

An hour later, the game fizzled out into yawns and soft laughter. Est slipped away early, his thoughts tangled and looping.

[trust me by lykn.]

That moment.

He tiptoed into their shared room, changed into pajamas, and curled up under the soft blanket. Rain had started falling—at first a gentle drizzle, then a summer downpour. The glass windows fogged from the cold, blurring the trees beyond.

Minutes later, William came in, towel-drying his hair, now dressed in a plain black tee and sweatpants.

Est peeked at him. “It’s raining.”

“I heard.”

The lights flicked off, and the room was bathed in blue shadows, rain tapping at the window like a rhythm only they could hear.

Est lay still. But sleep didn’t come.

Not with his heart like this. Not after that answer.

“William,” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

“…Did you mean it? Earlier.”

A pause.

Then—

“I don’t say things I don’t mean, Est.”

Silence again. Heavy, but not uncomfortable.

Est turned slightly in the dark. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me before.”

“Then maybe it’s time someone did.”

Another beat.

“And maybe it won’t be the last time,” William added, softer now.

Est’s chest ached—with longing, with hope, with something so good it almost hurt.

“I can’t sleep,” he muttered, sitting up.

William looked up from his bed, following Est’s movement. “Where are you—”

But Est was already out the door.

He didn’t know where he was going. His feet moved before thought. He turned right, found an open balcony, and stepped outside. The rain was heavier now. Cold droplets hit the wooden tiles and misted his face, but he didn’t move.

His hands were freezing. His heart was louder than the rain.

“You’ll catch a cold,” William said softly, stepping beside him.

Est didn’t answer right away. Just let the rain and silence say what he couldn’t.

And then—he spoke.

“You’d take care of me anyway.”

William turned to him.

They were too close.

Close enough for William to see the small mole on Est’s upper lip. Close enough for Est to notice the faint scar on William’s cheek. Details you only saw when it mattered. When you were letting yourself feel.

William didn’t move. He didn’t reach. He waited.

Letting Est decide.

Est took a breath. Then slowly leaned forward—pressing a gentle kiss to the scar on William’s cheek.

William blinked. Not startled. But clearly not expecting that.

Est stepped back just slightly. Smiling Softly. “Your turn.”

This time, William didn’t hesitate.

He leaned in with purpose—closing the space between them—and pressed a kiss to the soft, alluring mole just above Est’s lips. A mark he had looked at too many times. Quietly. Longingly.

Est’s breath caught.

Their eyes didn’t waver. The tension grew thicker, heavier—until William took Est’s cold hands and gently held them in his own, warming them with nothing but touch and care.

“I like you,” William said quietly. “I’m sure you know that. I’ve never been good at hiding how I feel. But… I also know this may not be appropriate. So you don’t have to feel pressured. Ever.”

The words settled deep into Est’s chest. They echoed into the quiet between them.

And then—Est moved.

On instinct. On courage.

He stepped forward, grabbed William by the collar, and kissed him.

Their breaths tangled. The world dimmed. And when their lips met—it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t crashing or desperate.

It was slow. Like sunrise. Like soft rain after a fire.

It was every second of longing they'd buried between silences, every almost confession, every sidelong glance and late night ache that never made it to words.

Est let out a shaky sound, half-sob, half-relief, grabbing the front of William’s shirt like he needed something to hold onto before the moment slipped away. William’s hands slid to Est’s waist, grounding, gentle, as though he couldn’t believe Est was real.

Their mouths moved in a rhythm only they could understand—hesitant, reverent, then gradually hungry with everything they were no longer willing to hide

William didn’t falter. His hands stayed around Est’s waist, steadying him, anchoring him as their lips moved slowly—like they were testing something sacred. Neither rushed. Neither pulled away.

It was a kiss that tasted like relief.

Like everything they’d been holding back.

The rain fell harder. The moon peeked shyly from behind the clouds. Somewhere far above, the stars might have been giggling.

When they finally pulled apart, their bodies stayed close. Est’s arms wrapped loosely around William’s shoulders, William’s grip firm at his waist.

They just stared.

Breathing the same air. Sharing the same world.

Then Est leaned in, resting his forehead against William’s shoulder.

“I like you,” he whispered. “Even more than you might expect.”

William’s breath hitched. Just once.

Est stayed still, then added softly, “I’m scared.”

William’s hands never left his waist. “I know.”

Est pulled back just slightly, enough to meet his eyes. “But I know Mr. William Jakrapatr will protect me.”

That made William smile.

The kind of smile Est had never seen on him before.

Pure. Full. Unshaken joy.

Est smiled too, cheek pressed to William’s chest as they stood there in the storm—body warmth shielding them from the world’s cold.

Then, William leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of Est’s head.

“I will,” he whispered into his hair. “As long as you’re in my arms.”

And Est—safe, held, and loved—finally let himself believe it. In the quiet kind of love, the kind that doesn’t arrive with fireworks—
but with trembling hands, bruised hearts, and a softness that ruins you in the best possible way.

They had spent so long running from the feeling,
they didn’t realize they’d been running toward each other all along.

Their love unfolded—slow, aching, inevitable—
until, Est found himself being kissed in a way that said:

“You were always mine.

Even before I knew it.”

Chapter Text

The rain had stopped sometime early in the morning, but the trees still wore its memory. Dew clung to every leaf and branch, making the world outside glow greener than usual-fresh, alive, and slightly unreal. Like something new had begun.

William stirred awake to the familiar chaos of voices echoing from downstairs. The other boys were clearly up and already knee deep in their daily mischief. But he didn't move just yet.

His eyes landed on the clock-just past 10 a.m. He had overslept.

That's when he noticed the warmth nestled against his left side.

Est.

Curled up close to his chest like he belonged there.

William's heart skipped. A slow, sweet whiplash of last night hit him all at once-talking until 3 or 4 a.m. on the balcony, Est tucked into his side, laughter blending with the cool breeze and starlight. There was no hesitation anymore. No tiptoeing around the closeness. They had shared a bed not by accident or fear, but by choice. And it was something they both wanted now.

Gently, William stroked Est's soft curls, brushing them back from his forehead. He let himself look-really look-at the boy sleeping against him. Every feature carved into his memory, every freckle and soft breath something William knew he was falling harder for. His fingers lightly traced from Est's eyes down to the little mole on his plump lips, like dejavu.

Est stirred. Sleepy and slow, he burrowed even closer into William's chest, like a lazy kitten seeking warmth. William chuckled, his eyes soft with adoration.

Then Est blinked up at him-still groggy, still processing-but wide eyed nonetheless.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," William said, voice low and teasing.

"I-when did you wake up? Why didn't you wake me?" Est mumbled, quickly pulling back like he just remembered where they were and what had happened.

"Well," William grinned, getting out of bed, "you looked too cute climbing all over me in your sleep. I didn't have the heart."

Est sat up slowly, his back facing William as he sank into thought. The silence around him stretched as last night's memories settled in.

They kissed.
They confessed.
They cuddled.
And it wasn't a dream.

He stayed still, a dazed little smile tugging at the corners of his lips, blinking into the distance while his heart caught up.

Downstairs, the noise of laughter and clattering dishes felt far away until William's voice called him back, "The boys are up. Freshen up and come downstairs, okay?"

When Est didn't respond, still somewhere between awe and overload, William stepped closer, gently cupping Est's face and making him look up.

"Are you freaking out?" William asked with a small smile. "You don't have to. We've got all the time in the world."

Then, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Est's forehead. "Come down when you're ready. Let's eat breakfast together."

Est nodded slowly, his heart full. There was nothing more he needed in that moment.

The living room and kitchen were as chaotic as ever-a storm of burnt toast, loud voices, and a terrible drama blaring from the TV.

Everything fell quiet the second William entered-his hair a mess, his lips fighting a permanent smile.

"Someone slept really good," Nut called out, chomping on a very questionable piece of toast.

The others turned, waiting for a smart reply, but William just shook his head, still smiling to himself as he headed to the kitchen. He made two plates of breakfast-one for Est and one for himself.

Tui came over to help with tea, glancing curiously at William's serene face. "Did something good happen?" he asked casually.

But William only gave a small shrug. They hadn't made it official yet. Naturally it wasn't the right time to tell anyone either.

Then Est stepped in.

Wearing a loose baby-blue sweatshirt and beige pants, his hair still slightly messy from sleep. All eyes turned to him at once.

Lego, of course, was the first to speak. "Okay, you're smiling too. Something definitely happened."

Est ignored him completely, walking straight to the kitchen where William stood with Tui.

"Breakfast's ready. Come eat with me," William said, eyes only on him.

Est nodded, mumbling an "okay," and they moved to sit together at the table while the rest exchanged silent glances.

They didn't dare ask again. Everyone knew William would talk when he was ready.

As they all ate, the noise resumed-bickering about episodes, arguing about who finished the milk. But in the middle of it all, Est and William kept stealing glances, their small smiles only for each other.

When Est leaned over to grab the tea, his sweater slipped off one shoulder. Before he could adjust it, William gently reached over and tugged it back up. The touch lingered.

Tui noticed. So did Nut. But no one said a word.

Est's face turned pink. He sat a little closer to William after that, leaning just enough for the warmth between them to bloom all over again.

He looked so soft like that, so quietly content, that it stirred something protective in all of them.

By noon, the sun had stretched out from behind the trees, warming the leftover dampness from last night's rain. A breeze stirred the leaves, and the world outside felt like it had just woken up too.

Lego kept pacing. "Let's go somewhere. We'll rot if we stay in here."

"It's literally been one day, Lego," Tui replied, unimpressed.

"ONE day means 24 HOURS. 24 hours means 1,440 minutes, which means-"

"Okay, enough math." William cut in with a raised eyebrow. "Where do you want to go?"

Lego blinked. "I don't know. You know this place better. You tell us."

Nut groaned dramatically. "We need fresh air before we turn into burnt toast like Tui's breakfast."

"Hey-" Tui threw a pillow at him. "I made the tea, not the toast!"

"I know a place," William finally said, casually slipping on a dark hoodie and grabbing his water bottle. "There's a short hiking trail nearby. Not too steep. Ends with a nice view."

"Ohhh nature boy speaks," Hong teased, tying up his hair. "Let's go before someone changes their mind."

Within the hour, they were off-climbing into the van which william had arranged, backpacks slung over shoulders, shoes laced, water bottles clanking. The energy was loud and a little chaotic, but easy in a way that felt like a memory being made.

William drove, naturally. Est sat in the passenger seat, eyes flicking between the window and William's profile. His fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with the edge of his sleeves, a soft pink still dusting his cheeks from earlier.

The others filled the back with laughter and noise, arguing over which playlist to play and who would carry the snacks.

"I still think I should carry the speaker," Nut said.

"You dropped it last time during our training period and said it slipped," Tui shot back.

"Gravity isn't my fault!"

The trail was just ten minutes from the cabin-a little hidden path lined with trees and the earthy scent of wet leaves and moss.

They started the hike together, but as expected, chaos followed them.

"Wait up! I wasn't ready!" Lego shouted as the group moved ahead.

"You've been stretching for the past ten minutes," Hong deadpanned.

"I need mental preparation!"

Est and William stayed a little behind the group-Est's pace slower, or maybe just more thoughtful. William matched it easily, their hands brushing now and then, never quite holding, but never pulling away either.

"You okay?" William asked, voice quiet under the rustling leaves.

Est nodded. "Yeah. I like this." He looked up, meeting William's gaze. "It feels... peaceful."

"You need more days like this," William said, soft and sure. "Not just work and pretending you're okay."

Est smiled. "And you need less people pulling you in every direction."

William tilted his head, grinning. "So we're fixing each other now?"

"Maybe."

They kept walking in silence after that, steps falling into rhythm, breathing in sync. Somewhere ahead, Nut tripped over a root, followed by dramatic wailing. The peace shattered briefly, but even that felt familiar-comforting.

The top of the trail wasn't too far-just a clearing that opened into a wide view of the valley below. Trees stretched for miles, clouds kissing the hills. It looked like something out of a painting, touched with gold and green.

They all stood for a while, breathless-not from the hike, but the view.

"Okay, group photo!" Tui called, pulling out the tripod from nowhere.

"You brought a tripod for a hike?" Lego blinked.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later."

They gathered close, arms thrown around shoulders, Nut nearly knocking Hong off balance while Est laughed softly at the chaos beside him. William stood behind Est, resting his hand gently on Est's waist without thinking.

Tui counted, "Three, two, one-smile!"

Click.

That one photo captured it all: the messy joy, the quiet beginnings, the kind of happiness that doesn't need words.

After the photo, most of them settled on the rocks, passing around water and snacks. Lego was already lying flat like he'd hiked a mountain.

William and Est wandered a little further to the edge of the clearing, away from the noise. They sat side by side, legs stretched out in front of them.

Est glanced sideways. "I still feel like I'm dreaming."

William leaned back on his elbows. "This is the part where I say something poetic, like-'I'll pinch you to check.'"

Est chuckled. "Please don't."

But William turned toward him anyway, serious now. "It's not a dream."

Est looked down at his hands. "I know. It just feels like... if I blink too long, I'll wake up."

William reached out and took Est's hand, gently lacing their fingers. "Then don't blink. Stay with me like this for a while."

Est nodded, eyes soft and bright. "Okay." He leaned towards William's shoulder resting his head on there.

They stayed there, the others laughing in the background, the wind tugging softly at their hair. The kind of silence that didn't need to be filled. The kind of moment that made everything worth it.

And as the clouds shifted above them, the sun lit up the clearing where they sat, the world quietly carving their names into this day..

Soon the sun was beginning to dip, casting golden lines through the treetops. Everything turned a little quieter, a little warmer, as if the world itself was catching its breath before the day ended.

"Okay, time to go down before Lego lies flat here permanently," Tui said, nudging him.

"I am flat. Leave me here. Let nature reclaim me," Lego groaned dramatically, earning a laugh from the others.

One by one, they began the descent-less loud this time, the earlier chaos softened by the hush of falling light and tired legs.

William and Est stayed behind for a moment, still seated side by side at the edge of the clearing, watching as the others disappeared down the trail. Leaves rustled softly above them. Crickets were starting to sing.

Est brushed the dust off his pants, getting ready to climb down the trail. Just as he turned to follow the others, William gently tugged at his hand.

"A few more minutes, please" he said softly.

Est blinked, a little confused, but sat back down beside him. His brows furrowed slightly in question-William found the expression painfully adorable.

"Is something wrong?" Est asked in a quiet voice, his concern genuine.

William shook his head. "No. I just... I want to ask you something."

And for once, the ever-composed leader of the security team sounded anything but confident.

Est leaned in slightly, curious now, his eyes locked on William. "What is it?"

William hesitated. "We kissed."

Est's lips curved into a smile. "Yeah. We did," he said, chuckling softly.

"We cuddled," William added, almost shyly.

Est nodded again, the smile on his face growing wider.

"So... are we-" William paused, then finally met Est's gaze. "Are we officially dating now?"

He looked too nervous for someone who usually gave orders without blinking.

Est blinked once, twice-and then began nodding, fast and sure, like an excited puppy who'd just been given a treat.

William laughed under his breath and leaned his forehead against Est's. His eyes closed, his voice full of emotion. "Thank you. Thank you so much for giving me a chance."

Est's voice was even softer when he replied, "I'm more grateful, though."

He pouted, just slightly, and William-unable to resist-leaned in and kissed the pout.

Est's eyes widened as his cheeks flushed a warm pink. He quickly pulled back, glancing around nervously, like someone might've caught them.

William just smiled at him, looking completely smitten.

"Are we going to tell them?" Est asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"We don't have to rush." William said knowingly.

Est bit his lip. "But I want to."

There was something calm in the way he said it. No hesitation. No fear.

"I want to hold your hand. Properly," he added, eyes on the ground. "Not just when no one's looking."

William's heart fluttered. He reached out without a word, taking Est's hand in his. Their fingers laced together like they'd done it for years.

"Then hold it," William said, smiling. "Let's go tell the world."

They stood up, hands still linked.

The walk down was easier. Maybe because gravity was doing its job, or maybe because William was still holding Est's hand the whole way down-thumb gently stroking the side of Est's palm, like he couldn't stop reminding himself it was real.

The others were scattered ahead, some walking in pairs, others shouting about bug bites or how Tui misread the trail map earlier.

Not even minutes later, they noticed the hand-holding.

Nut was the first to gasp. "OH. MY. GOD."

Est froze slightly, fingers tightening around William's, but William just looked at him and smiled.

Nut ran back up the trail a few steps, eyes wide. "YOU-TWO-YOU'RE-"

"Dating," William answered before he could finish. Calm. Confident. Like he had been waiting to say it.

Est nodded shyly. "As of... maybe fifteen minutes ago."

"MY OTP IS REAL," Nut yelled down the path.

"Wait WHAT-" Hong shouted back, nearly tripping over a root.

Lego, still slightly exhausted, blinked. "I KNEW IT. I KNEW something was up. Tui, pay up. I said they'd date before this trip ends."

"You were betting on us?" Est asked, half horrified, half laughing.

Tui just shrugged. "We're emotionally invested."

They all gathered around now, teasing and cheering and being absolutely unbearable in the way only close friends could be.

William kept Est's hand in his. Never let go. Even when Nut tried to yank them into a group hug. Even when Tui tried to sneak a photo and got scolded.

"Okay okay okay, I need a couple pic," Nut begged.

"Absolutely not-" Est began, flustered.

"Please?" William leaned in, eyes sparkling.

Est paused. Blinked. Then quietly nodded. "Okay... just one."

The photo was terrible-Est laughing, William grinning at him, Nut's finger partially covering the lens. But it didn't matter.

It was theirs.

By the time they reached the bottom of the trail, the sky was dusky and pink, the kind of shade that made everything look like a dream you wouldn't forget.

They loaded into the van again, tired but smiling. Est sat in the front again, and this time he reached for William's hand first.

No hiding. No pretending.

"OH.MY.GOD.AGAIN.-hand holding in broad daylight?! This is becoming practically scandalous!" As expected, Nut was the first one to scream again.

"Seriously? We're not even home yet and you're already going full couple mode?" Tui added.

Est looked away, ears burning pink, but didn't let go. William raised their joined hands proudly.

"Yes," he said simply, shrugging. "I have a boyfriend now. Deal with it."

"BOYFRIEND?!" Lego shouted dramatically from behind. "You just said that like it's not a life altering announcement!"

Hong groaned. "Can you all stop yelling on a mountain trail? You'll summon forest spirits into this van."

"Spirits or not, I ship this!" Nut clapped dramatically. "The way he just held your hand like it's the most casual thing in the world. You're doomed, William. He's gonna ruin you."

Est, still holding William's hand tightly, muttered under his breath, "Why does this feel like getting bullied in public?"

"Because it is, baby," William whispered back with a smirk.

After a while, when the others were loud in the back, arguing over what to eat for dinner and whether they should all sleep in the living room again like kids at a sleepover.

William glanced over at Est, who was looking out the window, the light painting his profile in gold. His lips curved up slightly when he felt William's eyes on him.

"You're staring again," Est murmured.

"I get to now," William said.

Est flushed. Turned his face away, still smiling.

Later that evening, the sun was gone, the stars just beginning to peek through the sky. Back at the cabin, the boys scattered into their usual chaos. Some fought over the bathroom. Others lay dramatically on the couch like the hike had drained their will to live.

In the kitchen, William stood behind the counter, sleeves rolled up, cutting vegetables. Est was beside him, trying to mix the soup but getting distracted every time William bumped his shoulder against his.

Tui entered first and squinted at the two of them.

"Oh no."

"What?" Est asked innocently, still stirring.

"You guys are literally glowing. What is this-domestic bliss?"

Before they could answer, Nut and Lego burst in.

Nut leaned over the counter with a smirk. "So... who's doing the cooking and who's doing the emotional support standing-around-while-looking-pretty?"

Est raised an eyebrow. "We're both cooking?"

"Wrong answer," Lego said. "Try again."

William didn't even glance up. "I chop. He stirs. And when no one's looking, he pokes my side and acts like he didn't."

Est made a face. "You were poking me!"

"Excuse me," Tui cut in, holding up a spatula. "I'm just trying to make sure we don't all die from undercooked chicken, and you two are flirting like it's a rom-com scene."

William chuckled. "We'll flirt quieter. Promise."

"No, flirt louder," Nut grinned. "We've waited months for this ship to sail. Give us fanservice."

Est grabbed a piece of carrot and threw it at him. "You're not getting anything."

"But I'm the reason you two even had alone time last week!"

"Exactly," William added dryly. "That's why you're banned from third-wheeling ever again."

As the kitchen slowly descended into louder banter, Est leaned a little closer to William, whispering just above the noise, "Are you used to this yet?"

William glanced at him, eyes warm. "Used to you? Not even close."

Est looked down, lips twitching into a shy smile, while Tui behind them yelled, "OKAY, NO FLIRTING NEAR THE STOVE!"

The room filled with laughter. It was loud, messy, filled with burnt smells and terrible jokes-but in the middle of it all stood William and Est, side by side, cooking dinner, stealing glances, and holding something quietly beautiful between them.

Their dating era had begun.

And it fit them better than either of them could've imagined.

It was the beginning of something real.

Something soft.

Something that felt a lot like love, even if they hadn't said the word yet.

Not out loud.

Not yet.

But they would.
Soon.

Chapter Text

"Are we not going out today?" Lego mumbled through a mouthful of breakfast, even though it was almost noon.

"We literally went hiking yesterday, my dear Lego," Hong replied groggily from the couch, lying half-awake and half-dead.

"Besides, going out every day isn't that great either," Tui added, eyes glued to his phone.

Lego nodded in understanding, flipping through TV channels lazily.

"So... they're not up yet?" Nut asked, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

"Looks like they're not," Lego replied, locking eyes with Nut. The silent exchange between them didn't go unnoticed.

"Don't do anything stupid. William might actually kick us out," Tui warned flatly.

"We didn't even say anything!" Lego protested, feigning innocence while Nut eagerly nodded along.

"We know you two," Hong said without lifting his head. "Always looking for an excuse to tease William's ass."

"Oh, unlike you, lying there like a corpse? At least we know how to make our boring lives fun," Nut shot back, squinting at him.

"Unlike me?" Hong sat up, clearly offended. "I know exactly how to enjoy life. Like this." He sprawled back down dramatically, arms spread wide like a starfish.

"That's not-ugh, whatever." Lego waved him off. "So... should we spy on them?"

"Lego..." Tui sighed, finally looking up. "That's literally an invasion of privacy."

"But we're in the same house. Same house means same family, which means we have the right to use any room. So technically, that's not invasion at all."

Before Tui could argue with actual logic, Nut chimed in dramatically. "Yeah. We're family, Tui. Don't tell me... you don't even consider poor me as family?" He clutched his chest like a wounded hero.

"Alright, enough. Do whatever you want. I'm staying out of it."

"No fun," Lego mumbled, already on his feet. Nut trailed after him in seconds. Hong, who had been "asleep," suddenly got up and followed too, wordlessly.

"Hong, you too?" Tui shook his head in disbelief.

Hong just waved a hand, unbothered.

William and Est's room was at the far end of the hall, which meant the three had to creep along like cats. Stealth was second nature anyway, given their profession.

"Oooh, Hooong," Nut started in a loud whisper, grinning at him.

"Shut the hell up!" Lego clamped a hand over Nut's mouth before he could blow their cover.

At last, they reached the door, pressing their ears against it. Three heads in a row, side by side, straining for any sound.

Nothing.

"So... looks like they're still sleeping," Lego whispered.

"Why are they so tired they're still out cold at noon?" Nut muttered suspiciously.

A sudden realization flickered between their eyes, like a lightbulb going off. They froze.

"Did they...?" Lego whispered.

"No way. I don't think William's that straightforward in bed," Nut whispered back.

Tui's voice cut in suddenly from behind them. "What are you idiots whispering about?"

The three nearly jumped out of their skin, screeching as they whirled around. Before they could recover, the door creaked open.

William stood there-topless, hair a mess, eyes half-lidded with sleep. "The hell's going on? Did someone break in?" His voice was low, serious.

"Uh-no, no. We were just... uh... searching for something. Yeah, something," Lego stammered, desperately.

Nut nodded frantically. "Uh-huh, yes. And we found it!"

William narrowed his eyes. "What thing?"

Lego, panicking, leaned against the doorframe-and accidentally caught sight of Est, sitting up in bed, drowning in yesterday's baby-blue sweater, eyes still hazy with sleep.

Lego's lips twitched. "Yeah... got the thing. Sleep more." And before William could press further, Lego bolted.

The others followed instantly, scattering down the hall like guilty children.

William sighed, shutting the door before turning back. Est blinked at him in confusion, rubbing his eyes.

"What was that about?" Est mumbled.

"Nothing, baby. Go back to sleep," William said softly, climbing into bed and pulling him into his chest.

"I heard noise. Was that the boys?"

William chuckled, brushing a kiss to his lips. "Yeah. Looks like they were spying on us."

"Us...?" Est whispered, cheeks blooming red.

William tightened his arms around him, voice tender. "Yeah. Us." He kissed him again, slow and sweet.

Downstairs, the living room was anything but calm, chaos had already erupted-Nut, Lego, and Hong all blaming each other while Tui sighed like a disappointed parent.

"I told you not to open your big mouth!" Lego pointed accusingly at Nut.

"Me?! You were the one who leaned against the door like some kind of detective!" Nut shot back.

"You both were loud enough to wake the entire neighborhood," Hong added coolly, dropping onto the couch like nothing had happened.

"Excuse me? You followed us!" Lego snapped.

"I never said I was innocent," Hong replied, stretching with zero shame.

Tui sighed, massaging his temples. "This is why I said not to go in the first place. You all act like middle schoolers spying on their teacher's romance."

Nut grinned. "Exactly. We're basically making history here. The great WilliamEst Chronicles."

"Oh my god," Tui muttered, throwing a cushion at his face.

Upstairs, the noise had died down. Est leaned against William's chest, still blushing. "They really thought we..."

William tilted his head, smirking. "Would that be such a bad thing?"

Est's ears turned even redder. He pushed lightly at William's chest, refusing to meet his eyes. "You... you shouldn't say things like that so casually."

"I'm not being casual," William said, voice dropping as he tilted Est's chin up. His morning voice still clung to him-low, warm, unshakably tender. "I mean it."

Est's heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to say something back, but the words tangled on his tongue. Instead, he buried his face against William's neck, whispering a tiny, muffled, "Idiot."

"Cute," William murmured against his hair, fingers tracing lazy circles at the small of Est's back. "But you know hiding doesn't help. I can still feel how hot you're getting."

"Shut up..." Est muttered, voice muffled.

William only chuckled, tilting Est's chin up gently until their eyes met. For a moment, Est thought William might tease him again - but instead, William kissed him. Soft, lingering, the kind that stole the breath out of his chest.

Est's fingers curled into William's bare shoulder without him realizing. His sweater sleeve slipped a little, exposing the pale curve of his collarbone, and William's gaze flickered there for just a second before returning to his lips.

"Everything feels like a dream," Est whispered when the kiss broke, his voice small but trembling with honesty.

William brushed his thumb across Est's cheek. "Not a dream. I'm right here. And I'm not letting you go, love."

The intensity in his voice made Est's chest tighten. He looked away quickly, but William leaned in again, lips brushing the corner of his mouth, slow and deliberate.

Est swallowed hard. "You... really don't know when to stop, do you?"

"I'll stop when you tell me to," William murmured, his breath warm against Est's skin.

Est hesitated, his heart racing. He didn't tell him to stop. Instead, he tugged William down for another kiss - this one deeper, clumsier, like neither of them really knew how to pace themselves yet.

When they finally pulled apart, Est was panting softly, eyes wide. William smirked at the sight, though his own chest rose and fell quickly.

"See?" he whispered against Est's lips. "Not so bad, right?"

Est shoved lightly at his chest, half flustered, half laughing. "You're impossible."

William caught his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. "And you're mine now. Get used to it."

William's lips found Est's again, slower this time, but with more intense heat that made Est's stomach flutter. The kiss deepened almost naturally, William's hand sliding up from his waist to cup the back of his neck.

Est melted into it before he realized, fingers gripping William's bare arm. The warmth of his skin against his palm sent sparks down his spine.

"Will..." Est breathed when they parted for air, his voice shaky.

William pressed his forehead against his. "Tell me to stop if it's too much."

Est's lashes fluttered, but he didn't say it. Instead, he tugged lightly at William's hair and kissed him again, surprising them both with how desperate it came out.

William groaned softly against his mouth, a low sound that made Est's whole body go hot. His hand slipped under the hem of Est's sweater, fingertips brushing the skin of his waist. Est gasped at the touch, breaking the kiss, his cheeks burning crimson.

"I-y-you can't just-" he stammered.

William smirked, eyes dark but playful. "I can't?" His thumb stroked the skin just under the sweater, teasing.

Est's breath hitched, but he didn't move away. "It's... only been a day," he whispered, eyes darting anywhere but William's.

William softened immediately, leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose. "I know. I'm not rushing you. I just... can't help wanting more of you."

Est's heart skipped painfully at the sincerity in his voice. He bit his lip, then buried his face back in William's chest to hide how red he was.

William chuckled, hugging him close. "Alright. No more teasing. For now."

But the way his lips brushed Est's temple after he said it made Est wonder how long William would really keep that promise.

By the time Est finally wriggled out of William's arms to wash up, his face was still pink, his lips a little swollen. William leaned lazily against the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed, watching him with a smirk that made Est glare.

"Stop staring," Est muttered, splashing water onto his cheeks.

"I'm just admiring my boyfriend," William drawled. "Is that a crime?"

Est almost dropped the towel, muttering under his breath, "You're impossible."

A short while later, freshly changed and finally somewhat composed, Est followed William downstairs. His heart still raced from the kisses upstairs, but the moment they stepped into the living room, he was greeted with the most suspicious sight.

The boys were all scattered around like actors in a bad play - Nut fiddling with the TV remote, Lego flipping through a magazine upside down, Hong sipping juice with exaggerated nonchalance, and Tui scrolling his phone like he hadn't been dragged into chaos an hour ago.

"Morning," William said, voice flat, scanning the room.

"Morning!" the four chimed back too quickly, their voices overlapping.

Est blinked. They looked so guilty that it was almost funny.

Lego cleared his throat loudly. "Uh... nice weather today, isn't it?"

"We're indoors," William replied dryly.

"Exactly," Lego said without missing a beat. "Perfect weather indoors."

Nut nodded furiously. "Y-yeah, yeah. I love this... air. Such... good quality air."

Hong, not even trying, added, "Best air I've ever had." He took another sip of juice like a king watching peasants flail.

Est bit back a laugh, his hand brushing William's arm as if to silently say don't grill them too hard. But William only raised an eyebrow, clearly amused at their terrible cover-up.

"You guys," he said slowly, "were definitely not spying on us, right?"

Four heads shook violently, in perfect unison. "No! Absolutely not!"

Est finally let out a laugh, soft and sweet, hiding his face against William's shoulder. William looked down at him, his expression softening, before turning his attention back to the boys.

"Good," William smirked knowingly, slipping his arm around Est's waist, so casually. "Beacuse if you were..you would regret it."

Est shot him a wide-eyed look, but William only kissed the top of his head.

The room went dead quiet. Nut swallowed hard, Lego nervously flipped another upside-down page, and even Hong paused mid-sip.

Only Tui muttered, without looking up, "Told you so."

_________

The noon sun had been shining just minutes ago, but by the time everyone had finished breakfast and gathered in the living room, the air had shifted. Clouds rolled in fast, heavy and dark, until the windows rattled faintly with the promise of rain.

“Great,” Lego groaned, peeking through the curtains. “Storm’s coming. My luck is so bad.”

Nut laughed, draping an arm over his shoulder. “Don’t blame the sky for your unlucky life.”

“Shut up,” Lego snapped, pulling the curtain closed again.

The first crack of thunder made Hong flinch only slightly, though he masked it by sipping his juice like nothing happened.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” Nut teased, inching a little closer to give comfort Hong hadn’t asked for.

“I’m not scared. Thunder’s just… loud,” Hong muttered, sinking deeper into the couch, avoiding eye contact.

And then, with a loud click, the lights went out.

A beat of silence.

“AHHH!” Lego screamed dramatically, clutching Tui’s shirt.

“Relax, idiot,” Tui said, though his own voice wasn’t much steadier. “It’s just a power cut.”

“Just a power cut? That’s literally how horror movies start!” Lego whispered harshly.

Soon, the boys were fumbling around for candles and flashlights, the living room glowing in uneven patches of light. It didn’t take long for chaos to spark—Nut telling terrible ghost stories, Lego shrieking at his own shadow.

“Anyone ever had a paranormal experience?” Nut asked suddenly, a little too serious.

Everyone’s eyes were on him now. Heads shook quickly in denial—except Est’s.

“I… actually have,” Est said softly, his voice nearly swallowed by the rain hammering outside.

“WHAT??” Lego screeched. “SPILL THE STORY!”

William moved a little closer, naturally offering comfort. Est gave him a small smile.

“Our company’s old practice room… everyone said it was haunted.”

Every pair of eyes in the room widened with curiosity. Est went on, his tone calm but steady.

“Every senior artist had weird experiences there. I never did, so I thought it was just a myth. But one day… a day like this, when it was pouring rain… I saw a figure standing in the corner, watching me.”

Everyone held their breath.

“I thought it was just P’Ko checking on me. But when I turned back to look… it was gone.”

“NO WAY! That must’ve been terrifying!”

The room exploded with shocked exclamations. William’s hand rested gently on Est’s back, a protective gesture he didn’t even think about.

“And what happened then?” Tui asked, ignoring the chaos of the others.

“P’Jin had us change practice rooms.”

Everyone nodded, processing. Lego asked nervously, “So… that room’s still there?”

“Well, yeah,” Est said simply. “It’s just used for storage now.”

“You guys really never had anything like that?” Est asked curiously.

Hong raised his hand. “Actually… yeah, I have.”

“What, Hong? You? The guy who never even leaves bed?” Nut teased.

“Yeah, me,” Hong replied flatly, unfazed.

“It was before I joined you guys. One night after lectures, I was walking home alone and—”

Everyone leaned in, hanging on his words—especially Lego, who looked ready to jump straight into Hong’s lap for safety.

And then Hong suddenly screamed.

Everyone else screamed with him—especially Lego, who practically clawed at Nut’s arm. Tui hurled a pillow at Hong, who was doubled over laughing.

Est, clearly spooked, instinctively leaned into William, who chuckled quietly at the sight of him.

When things finally calmed, Est sat close beside William on the couch, giggling behind his hand at their antics. For once, his laughter was unguarded, spilling out freely. William, half-watching the boys, half-watching Est, found himself smiling too.

When Nut tried to jump-scare Lego—who was already holding onto him for dear life—and knocked a flashlight to the floor, William leaned down, close to Est’s ear.

“Want to escape before they burn the house down?”

Est glanced at him, hesitant, but nodded.

William guided him out quietly, leaving the boys mid-chaos. They slipped into the quieter hallway, then into the kitchen where only a single candle flickered on the counter. Rain pounded against the windows, thunder rolling heavy above them.

For a while, they just stood there, the quiet oddly soothing. Est traced the rim of the candleholder with his finger before speaking.

“…You’re different around them,” he said softly.

William raised a brow. “Different how?”

“Like… you don’t act like a leader, or someone who always has control. You’re… just William. To them, you’re family.”

William was silent for a moment, leaning back against the counter. “That’s because they are my family.” His voice was lower now, edged with something real. “Not by blood. But… they’re the only people I trust enough to call that.”

Est looked up at him, surprised by the raw honesty. “Didn’t you have anyone else? Before them?”

William’s jaw tightened, eyes flicking toward the candle flame. “I did. Once. But people leave. Or they want something from you. It’s easier not to let anyone in.” He paused, then looked at Est. “Until now.”

Est’s breath caught, his chest tightening. “Until… me?”

William stepped closer, close enough that the storm outside faded into the background. His hand brushed Est’s, fingers curling around it. “You’re different. I don’t know why, but… I don’t want to keep walls up with you.”

Thunder cracked overhead, making Est jump slightly. William squeezed his hand gently, grounding him.

Est swallowed hard, heat rushing to his face. He didn’t know what to say, so he just squeezed back, their joined hands trembling faintly.

The candle flickered, shadows dancing over William’s face as he leaned in—not rushing, not demanding, just giving Est the chance to pull away.

Est didn’t.

Their lips met softly at first, tentative, but the weight of William’s words lingered between them, making it heavier than any kiss before. In between kisses, William’s hand found Est’s waist, gently urging him onto the kitchen counter. He stood between Est’s legs, deepening the intimacy.

When they finally broke apart, Est whispered, barely audible over the storm—
“You’re impossible… but you’re also… real.”

William chuckled low, brushing his thumb across Est’s cheek. “Real enough to be yours.”

Before Est could reply, footsteps echoed down the hall, followed by Nut’s voice—loud and dramatic as always.

“GUYS. WE THINK THE GHOST FOLLOWED US!”

The kitchen door burst open, and in spilled Lego, Nut, Hong, and Tui, flashlights bobbing wildly.

Est nearly fell off the counter in shock, while William shot them the most withering glare known to mankind.

“What the hell are you doing?” William asked, his voice dangerously calm.

“Protecting the house!” Lego shouted, clutching a broom like a sword.

“From ghosts,” Nut added, nodding solemnly, as if it were the most logical thing in the world.

Tui pinched the bridge of his nose. “I told them it was just the wind rattling the window.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Lego insisted, inching closer to Est, who was still perched on the counter looking caught red-handed. “Est, you believe me, right?”

Est’s cheeks burned crimson, his lips still swollen from the kiss. He stammered, “I—I think it was probably just—”

William stepped forward, shielding Est with his body. “Out. All of you.”

Hong, unfazed, sipped from the juice box he had somehow brought along. “Mhm. Totally not interrupting anything here.”

Nut cupped his hands around his mouth and screamed, “LEAVE THE POOR KITCHEN COUNTER ALONE!”

Lego immediately joined in. “AND STOP MAKING ME FEEL SINGLE ALL THE TIME TOO!”

Est covered his face with both hands, mortified, while William slammed the door shut in their faces.

For a moment, silence. Then muffled laughter exploded from the hallway, Nut’s voice rising above the rest.

“CONFIRMED! WILLIAM IS DOWNBAD!!”

William exhaled slowly, muttering, “I’m kicking them all out tomorrow.” But the faint curve at the corner of his lips betrayed him.

Est lowered his hands, catching that small smile, his own heart fluttering despite the embarrassment.

Outside, thunder roared again, louder this time—like a warning. The storm had only just begun.

Chapter Text

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, but the sky was beginning to blush — streaks of orange and gold breaking through the lingering darkness. Unlike the past two mornings, which had been slow and filled with lazy snuggles, today began differently.

Est was already awake.

Wrapped in a hoodie too big for him — unmistakably William’s — he stood just outside the wooden cabin, barefoot on the porch, a mug of warm tea cupped between his hands. His hair was a bit tousled, his eyes still heavy with sleep. But they were soft, thoughtful, fixed on the quiet view ahead: dew-kissed trees, a chorus of birds waking the woods, the hush of wind threading gently through the leaves.

Inside, William stirred.

The warmth beside him was missing, and his brows furrowed instinctively. But the faint scent of pine and tea drifted in through the cracked door, and he understood.

He padded out quietly, still barefoot, still warm from bed. His arms wrapped around Est’s waist from behind, wordlessly.

Est let his head fall back against William’s shoulder with a quiet hum.

“You didn’t sleep more?” William murmured, voice still rough and low from sleep.

“Wanted to see this,” Est whispered. “It’s our last morning here. Feels too fast.”

William pressed a kiss to the nape of Est’s neck. “We’ll come back again. Just us.”

Est turned in his arms, smiling so gently. “Let’s make breakfast. Just us. Before the others wake up.”

The kitchen was filled with a gentle kind of domesticity — the kind Est had always wanted in a relationship but never truly lived until now.

Soft morning light slipped in through half-drawn curtains, casting amber streaks across the wooden floor. The crisp mountain air drifted in through the open windows, fragrant and cool, but the inside of the cabin felt warm. Not just from the stove, but from the quiet joy settling between two people.

Est stood at the counter, sleeves rolled up, slicing strawberries with focused precision. William manned the pancakes, stealing glances at Est every few moments like he couldn’t help himself. He leaned a little too close, brushed a stray bit of flour from Est’s cheek, murmured dumb jokes just to draw out a smile. He flipped pancakes like it was a performance, just for Est’s eyes.

They were in their own little bubble.

“Don’t stare,” Est murmured without looking, a small smile curling at his lips.

“I’m not staring,” William said, voice still thick with sleep. “I’m observing. Like a scientist.”

“You’ve been observing for ten minutes,” Est replied, amused.

“That’s how science works.”

Before Est could respond, a loud yawn broke the moment — Nut trudged in, his hair flattened on one side, shirt half-tucked and eyes barely open.

“Ugh, it smells domestic in here,” he groaned. “Please tell me you’re not feeding each other already.”

William, ever calm, popped a strawberry into Est’s mouth.

Est nearly choked, cheeks turning red.

Nut gasped like he'd just witnessed a crime. “I knew it!”

“Good morning to you too,” William said, unbothered.

Hong shuffled in next, eyes lighting up. “Ooh, pancakes? Wait, did they already have their little couple moment without us again?”

Est tried to hide behind the frying pan. “We’re just making breakfast.”

Tui joined them with a sleepy stretch. “You two making breakfast together is the couple moment.”

“You’re all loud,” Est muttered, pouring more batter. “Go wash up.”

“Not until we see one more act of parental affection,” Lego announced, showing up last, still in pajamas and holding his plush cat pillow.

William calmly slid a plate of pancakes toward Est like they’d done this routine for years. “Est, my love, would you do the honor of plating these fine pancakes?”

Est rolled his eyes, but the soft smile on his face gave him away.

“I swear,” Nut whispered to Hong and Lego, “they’re already like married. I feel like the divorced uncle crashing on the couch.”

“Which you basically are,” Hong replied coolly, stoking the fire.

Nut turned his head dramatically. “Me?? I’m the youngest at heart here.”

Lego, the actual youngest, seated on a dining chair, added lazily, “You're turning half-fifty soon. Soooo…”

Nut, ready to argue back, was silenced by the plate Est placed in front of him with a sweet smile. “We’re not fighting this early in the morning.”

Nut only nodded in defeat while the others quietly found their places at the table. William and Est worked together to finish plating the rest, moving in sync like two parents preparing a meal for their kids.

Something about it felt still. Familiar. Family-like.

The boys, who had been chatty moments ago, had gone unusually quiet — just watching them.

William paused mid-step, catching their stares. “Why is there a weird silence all of a sudden?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

None of the boys answered. No teasing, no jokes. Just quiet smiles. A silent kind of contentment.

William and Est finally sat down, joining them.

Then, breaking the hush, Lego mumbled through a mouthful of pancake, “Thanks for the breakfast, Papa and Mama.”

Est choked on his tea, and William instinctively reached to pat his back, concern flashing across his face. But the deep red spreading across both of their ears gave away their shyness.

“I was gonna say the same thing legoo” Nut added, laughing uncontrollably.

The others nodded in agreement, offering variations of the same.

Once he’d calmed down, Est muttered, “I’m never cooking for you ungrateful brats again.”

William chuckled beside him, clearly amused.

“He definitely sounds like my mom,” Hong said softly, as everyone dug into their food.

Plates clinked, conversations overlapped, and forks scraped lazily against porcelain as laughter returned to the table. They were still bickering — Nut trying to argue with Lego about who the real youngest was, Tui threatening to confiscate everyone's phones, Hong pretending to be the only responsible one, and Est swatting William’s hand away from stealing another strawberry off his plate.

It was warm and chaotic in the most comforting way.

Until William’s phone buzzed.

He glanced at the screen, then sighed softly before pressing it to answer.

“P’Ko,” he muttered, then tapped the speaker.

The call connected with a familiar voice, bright and efficient even this early in the day. “How’s it going there?” P’Ko greeted, cheerful but quick. “Just called to let you know Est has a schedule tomorrow morning. Also, his new apartment’s all arranged. The team already started moving things.”

William glanced instinctively at Est, who paused mid-bite.

“I’ll send the script for tomorrow, okayy…” P’Ko continued, then softened, his voice fond. “Est, take care, hmm? I know you are. I get updates once in a while from the boys. Don’t think you’re off the radar just cause you ran away to the mountains.”

Est gave a tiny smile, resting his chin in his palm.

William reached over and quietly turned the speaker off after a moment. The table didn't resume its noise right away.

For a second, the room stilled again. Not in a heavy way — just a reminder. That the world was still spinning outside this little pocket of time.

Then Tui cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Guess that means we’re back on schedule too."

Then Nut groaned, dramatic as ever. “Ugh. Schedules. Reality. My skin is breaking out just hearing his voice.”

“P’Ko will sense that disrespect from miles away,” Lego warned, pointing at him with a fork.

Est didn’t say much, just leaned back slightly as William brushed his thumb over Est’s knuckles under the table — subtle, grounding.

“Let’s just finish breakfast,” Est said, voice light but a little quieter than before.

And they did.

But somewhere in the space between syrup and strawberry, between laughter and lingering glances — something shifted.

The cabin felt a little less far away.

As a thank you for breakfast, Nut and Tui took charge of washing the plates, while Lego and Hong handled the drying.

They didn’t ask William or Est. Just let them slip upstairs together, unbothered.

While cleaning, their voices dropped into a quieter register—one that didn't match the clatter of dishes or the sunlight pouring in.

“We’ll need to sweep the new apartment before Est steps in,” Nut said, rinsing a plate.

“Already on it,” Hong replied from the sink. “P’Ko gave me the access code last night.”

Lego leaned against the counter, towel in hand. “So… does that mean our little mountain family trip is over?”

“Yeah,” Tui muttered, slipping his phone into his back pocket. “Back to work. Back to protocol.”

But none of them looked quite ready to let go of the warmth. This place felt like home, even if just briefly.

Outside, the midday sun had mellowed, casting long rays across the mountains. Est stood on the balcony, a mug cradled in his hands, eyes scanning the forest like he was trying to memorize every tree.

William joined him silently, their shoulders brushing as he stepped beside him.

“Do you think it’ll be different… after we go back?” Est asked, his voice uncertain but quiet.

“Different?” William echoed. “Yes.”

Est turned to him, searching his face.

“But I’ll be right there,” William added, softer this time. “You know that, right?”

Est let out a quiet laugh, small but full of emotion. “Even when you’re not supposed to be?”

“Especially then,” William said without hesitation.

Est leaned in, resting his head against William’s shoulder. They stood like that for a long time, saying nothing more.

Inside the cabin, quiet preparations had already begun.

Tui rolled up cords and packed the last of their gear. Hong was on a call, going over surveillance logistics. Nut typed silent updates into the team’s shared file, and Lego busied himself sweeping out the van.

And even though Est and William were still smiling in the next room, surrounded by mountain air and fading laughter, everyone knew—

The vacation bubble was about to burst.

Reality waited at the foot of the mountain.

But for now—just for now—they let things stay warm a little longer.
___________

The last of the dishes were stacked neatly by the sink. Somewhere in the cabin, a drawer shut softly. It wasn’t loud or sudden—just the kind of sound that meant things were being put away. Like the end of something. Like the closing of a day, or a pause before the next part of life begins.

William sat on the edge of the couch, fingers absentmindedly running over the hem of Est’s sleeve as Est leaned against him, half-asleep. The TV was on, low, forgotten. Just noise filling the background.

From upstairs, Tui called down, “We’ll head out by six. Traffic’ll be bad if we wait longer.”

“Copy that,” Nut’s voice answered as he came downstairs, phone still in hand. He caught William’s eyes briefly, gave a small nod, and then turned toward the kitchen.

Everything felt soft. Like the air had gotten heavier, but not in a bad way. Just full.

Est stirred. “Do we really have to go?” he mumbled, voice still drowsy.

William gave a small smile, pressing a kiss to his temple. “We’ll come back,” he said. “Someday.”

“Will it still feel like this?”

William looked around the cabin—the empty mugs, the slightly crooked blanket on the floor, Hong and Lego laughing softly in the next room, the sun dipping behind the trees.

“Maybe not,” he admitted. “But something else will. With you, it will.”

Est didn’t answer right away. Then he nodded, slow and sure, like he was accepting something deeper than just a return to the city.

The forest had gone still. The only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath footsteps, mixed with the occasional creak of car doors swinging open.

They didn’t say much.

The cabin lights were dimmed behind them. What little warmth was left inside now flickered through the windows like a memory.

Nut and Lego were first to the driveway, tossing their backpacks into the trunk with quiet efficiency. Tui and Hong followed soon after, voices low as they exchanged last-minute checks about gear and security protocols. No teasing, no jokes this time — just quiet nods and shared glances.

Est lingered at the cabin door, fingers grazing the frame like he was saying goodbye without needing words. William came up beside him, his coat already on, keys loosely in hand.

"Ready?" he asked, voice gentle.

Est nodded, eyes soft but distant. “Almost.”

William didn’t rush him.

Down by the cars, engines began to hum one by one. Nut turned on the headlights, casting a soft glow over the trees. Tui flicked his hazard lights on, just to break the silence.

William and Est walked slowly to their car, steps in sync.

As Est slid into the passenger seat, he glanced in the rearview mirror—not at the cabin, but at the quiet smiles of the others. Lego was adjusting the seatbelt with a yawn, Hong had his hood up, already scrolling through something on his phone. Nut leaned against the car, waiting. Tui waved lazily from his driver's seat like they were just leaving any other place.

But they all knew.

This wasn’t just leaving.

This was letting go.

William reached over and gently tugged Est's seatbelt into place. Their eyes met, and for a second, everything stilled again.

“Ready now?” he asked.

Est exhaled softly. “Yeah.”

Their car pulled out first, tires crunching against gravel, headlights sweeping across the mountain road. One by one, the others followed—three cars, six people, a kind of family driving down in silence.

No loud music. No playful racing.

Just the rhythm of the road, and the quiet ache of something good ending.

Behind them, the cabin disappeared into shadow.

And ahead?

Work. Scripts. Reality.

But for now, William reached over and held Est's hand across the center console.

And Est held back.

Chapter Text

“You’ve been on a break for a few months. How does it feel to be back?” the interviewer asked during Est’s first promotional interview with Eunwoo for their upcoming drama together.

“It’s nice to be back. I’m also very happy to work with Eunwoo” Est replied politely, his words on autopilot.

Truth be told, Est wasn’t entirely awake yet. They had arrived at their new apartment in the middle of the night, gone straight to bed, and then woken up at an ungodly hour. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to properly look around the new place before being whisked off to work.

Lykn, of course, were already back on duty—punctual and professional as always. His favorite strawberry smoothie sat waiting for him while he got his makeup done. Est didn’t need to ask to know it was William’s silent way of showing support.

And now here he was again. Back to events. Back to fans. Back to the same routine.

Eunwoo looked polished and effortlessly handsome in his casual-but-refined outfit, while Est wore something softer, in line with his drama character. The interview questions were different but felt repetitive, the usual drill. Still, Est noticed something refreshing—this time, Eunwoo was sharing the workload evenly, unlike past promotions with other actors where Est had to carry more.

The news about the stalker hadn’t leaked, which was the only reason Est wasn’t being bombarded with invasive questions.

As Eunwoo spoke about recording the drama’s OST, Est’s eyes drifted sideways, inevitably searching for them—his five-man security team standing in perfect formation.

But his gaze, biased as ever, found William.

William in a black suit, the kind that made professionalism look like sin. Broad shoulders, sharp lines, and that unreadable expression that gave nothing away. He stood just far enough to blend into the background, but Est felt him anyway—like gravity pulling him off-center.

Sometimes it was maddening. William was there as his head of security, nothing more. The distance was necessary, the image untouchable. But Est knew better. He knew the warmth of that hand on his back when no one was watching, the steadiness of William’s voice when Est’s own broke, the taste of a kiss that still left him dizzy.

If it weren’t for the cameras, Est would’ve dragged him back to their room already, unbothered by whatever chaos that would cause. His mind, half-sleepy and half-starved, kept running in directions it shouldn’t.

It was still hard to believe, even now. That he wasn’t single anymore. That he was dating the leader of his own security squad.

Life, Est thought, had the cruelest way of blindsiding you. And the sweetest.

After the interview, both Est and Eunwoo were rushed backstage for a quick touch-up.

P’Ko, flipping through the script for the next segment, glanced up briefly. “You look good, Est. Somehow… refreshed.”

Est, seated in front of the mirror while a stylist fixed a stray strand of hair, chuckled quietly. He knew exactly why P’Ko thought that. But he couldn’t say it out loud. Not yet. Not even to the man who was more like a brother than a manager.

His gaze slid toward the mirror, where William stood a little further back, discussing event protocol with the staff. The way he carried himself—calm, assured, untouchable—was magnetic. Est’s expression softened without him realizing it, his eyes lingering longer than they should have.

“Hey” P’Ko’s voice broke through his trance. “Don’t zone out now. You’re just a bit nervous, right? First big promo after a break—it gets to anyone.”

Est startled slightly, forcing a laugh. “Yeah… something like that.”

P’Ko patted his shoulder before turning back to his notes. He didn’t notice the way Est’s gaze drifted back to the mirror almost instantly. If anyone had been paying closer attention, it would have been far too obvious—how openly smitten Est looked.

Moments later, the call came: “Five minutes to stage.”

The corridor beyond buzzed with staff rushing, cables being taped down, microphones checked one last time. Eunwoo stretched his arms with an easy smile, flashing Est a reassuring grin as though they weren’t about to face a hall of screaming fans.

P’Ko straightened his headset and looked at the two of them. “Remember: keep it light, keep it playful. Fans eat that up.” His eyes narrowed slightly at Est. “You especially—smile more. Don’t let nerves show.”

Est nodded, though what twisted in his chest wasn’t nerves. It was something else entirely—standing just meters away, arms folded, gaze sharp and unreadable.

William.

Even now, as the stage lights flared and the crowd’s chants rumbled through the walls, Est felt the pull. Everyone out there would be screaming his name with Eunwoo’s, begging for hearts and poses. But here, in this narrow backstage corridor, his heart had already decided who it belonged to.

“Let’s go,” P’Ko said, ushering them toward the stage.

The doors opened. The roar of fans crashed over him like a wave. And with one last glance sideways—at William, steady as ever—Est stepped into the light.

The moment Est and Eunwoo stepped onto the stage, the hall erupted. Chants of their names rose like a wave, lightsticks glowing, fan banners fluttering in every direction.

“EunwooEst! EunwooEst!”

The MC grinned wide, clearly feeding off the energy. “Our drama leads are here! Don’t they look perfect together?”

The crowd screamed as Eunwoo leaned slightly closer to Est, flashing his signature smile. Est returned it automatically, though the sound that escaped his throat was closer to a nervous laugh.

“Let’s give the fans a little treat” the MC continued. “Can we get a quick heart pose?”

Est froze for half a second—just long enough that anyone who knew him well might notice. Then, like muscle memory, he raised his hand. Eunwoo met him halfway with no hesitation, completing the shape. Cameras clicked like thunder, fans screamed like the world was ending.

Est’s lips curved upward, but his eyes betrayed him.

They flicked toward the side of the stage. Toward the line of men in suits standing like pillars.

Toward him.

William didn’t move. Didn’t blink. His arms stayed folded, his posture perfect. But Est caught it anyway—the faint tightening of his jaw, the smallest flicker in his eyes before he masked it again.

The MC was relentless. “You two really do look like a couple! Eunwoo, what’s one thing you like about Est?”

The fans screamed louder, stomping their feet against the floor, demanding an answer.

Eunwoo grinned, playing it up. “He’s… very caring. Quiet sometimes, but you notice the little things with him.” His voice softened at the end, almost sincere, and the crowd went wild again.

Est laughed it off, lowering his gaze shyly as though embarrassed. But his pulse hammered. Because while everyone else was listening to Eunwoo’s answer, Est was too busy watching William’s unreadable face, standing in the shadows where no one else looked.

Another round of cheers erupted as Eunwoo suddenly slung an arm loosely around Est’s shoulders, pulling him closer for the fans. The noise doubled, chants echoing through the hall.

Est smiled, because that was what he was supposed to do. His body leaned in just enough for the photo. His lips moved in polite laughter.

But in the corner of his eye, he saw William shift ever so slightly, his fingers curling into his palm before releasing. A crack in the armor. Small. Invisible to everyone else. But to Est? Deafening.

And it was enough to make his heart race in a way no camera flash or fan chant ever could.

The MC continued, clearly delighted by the crowd’s energy, leaned forward with a grin.
“Since everyone is so excited… how about a little game? A quick Q&A. Fans have sent in some fun requests!”

The audience screamed. A staff member brought over a small box filled with slips of paper. Eunwoo, being the good sport, reached in first.

He unfolded the paper and read aloud, voice dramatic:
“‘Please act out a scene as if you are really dating.’”

The hall erupted. Chants and squeals overlapped, some fans nearly climbing over the barricade in excitement.

Est’s ears went hot immediately. He covered it with a smile, glancing helplessly at Eunwoo.

Eunwoo only grinned wider. “Should we give them what they want?” he asked, turning to Est.

The MC clapped his hands. “Yes, yes, just a short one! Give the fans their couple moment.”

Est swallowed, laughing lightly. He had done fanservice before, but something about this moment felt heavier. Maybe because it wasn’t just cameras this time—it was him, standing at the edge of the stage, watching everything.

Eunwoo leaned in, lowering his voice so it brushed the mic. “Teerak, should I pretend to hold your hand?”

The fans screamed as if they’d heard him. Est nodded quickly, his smile tight but sweet, and let Eunwoo take his hand in his. The cheers turned deafening. Phones shot up, flashes blinding.

“Now look at each other like it’s real” the MC teased.

Est did. For a second too long, he held Eunwoo’s gaze, smiling shyly for the fans. The noise rose another level, chants shaking the walls.

But as the moment stretched, his eyes flicked away, past the fans, past the MC. To the shadowed corner of the stage.

William stood there, still and unflinching. But Est noticed. The set of his shoulders had stiffened a bit more than earlier, his fingers drumming once against his folded arm before stilling again. To anyone else, it was nothing. To Est, it was everything.

The Q&A continued, each fan request more playful than the last—back hugs, shared glances, staged bickering. Eunwoo played along easily, sending the crowd into fits of joy. Est followed suit, his laughter light, his gestures warm.

But inside, he was a storm. Every time Eunwoo’s hand brushed his, every time the fans screamed his name with someone else’s, his gaze betrayed him. Back to William. Always back to William.

And each time, William was the same—stone-faced, unreadable, standing just far enough away to seem untouchable. But Est could feel it, like an invisible thread stretched taut between them, waiting for the moment when the lights would dim and the crowd’s voices would fade.

For now, though, all he could do was smile, laugh, and give the fans exactly what they wanted—while the only person he actually wanted remained just out of reach.
_____________

William couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this ugly, gnawing emotion.
Jealousy.

Maybe he could. It was back then too—with Est and Eunwoo.

Only at that time, there was nothing official between him and Est to justify it. Nothing that allowed him to even claim the right to feel it.

But now, there was.

They weren’t just bound by professionalism anymore. They were dating.

And yet, William still had to act as if nothing existed outside duty. He thought he was good at hiding it, at keeping his feelings buried deep behind a mask.

Maybe he had overestimated himself.

Because when it came to Est, he couldn’t hide.

Every time Est leaned a little too close to Eunwoo on stage, William’s jaw tightened. His composure slipped, if only for a second. He told himself it was nothing—just protective instincts, nothing more.

But he knew better.

By the time the event ended and Est was alone in his dressing room, changing back into his own clothes, William had already made up his mind.

He waited. He checked. He made sure the staff had cleared, Lykn stationed outside as usual. Then, quietly, he stepped in and locked the door behind him.

When Est emerged from behind the changing partition, he froze at the sight of William standing there. But surprise quickly melted into something else—something softer. A knowing smile.

William didn’t give him the chance to speak. In two strides, he had Est pulled flush against him, his hands gripping his waist, his gaze locked with unshakable intensity.

Est’s smile only widened, but he didn’t say a word. He simply leaned in.

William met him halfway, lips pressing against Est’s in a kiss he had been waiting eight long hours for. He had counted every minute.

Soft at first, as though savoring the taste. Then deeper, hungrier—William’s tongue sliding against Est’s, Est parting his lips to give him everything. Est’s body leaned fully into him, hands braced on his shoulders, while William held him tighter, refusing to let even air between them.

When they finally broke apart, Est giggled breathlessly, cheeks pink. William just stared, kiss-dazed, in awe.

“Jealous baby” Est teased, voice playful but eyes warm.

William didn’t bother denying it. He only pressed a kiss to Est’s forehead. “Can’t help it. My boyfriend’s too pretty—and gets shipped with someone else.”

There was a quiet sulk in his tone, and Est found it impossibly endearing. The cold, untouchable bodyguard, holding him this close, stroking his hair with such tenderness—it was a sight Est still wasn’t used to.

“I’m yours” Est said simply, with certainty.

William’s throat tightened. He nodded, wanting to say more—until a knock at the door shattered the moment.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart. Est smoothed down William’s suit, fussing to make him look presentable again, while William only stood there watching him with soft, unguarded eyes.

“Go,” Est mouthed, jerking his chin toward the door.

Finally, William turned the lock.

The door opened to Nut and Lego, both stiffly professional, though the teasing curve of their smiles gave them away.

“We leave in five minutes.” Nut announced with a too-casual tone.

William nodded once, stepping out, but not before glancing back at Est one last time.

When the others left, Est stayed behind for a moment, scrolling through Twitter clips of the event. His mind, however, stayed fixed on the kiss, replaying it over and over. Five minutes felt like a decade.

Rising to his feet, he paced the room—until something caught his eye.

The gift boxes from fans had already been sent to the company for screening. None were supposed to be here. But there, in the corner, sat one. A distinct red box, set apart from everything else.

A chill ran through him. Deja vu.

With trembling hands, he lifted the lid.

Inside was a photograph.

A recent one. Him, standing among Lykn.

But every other face—crossed out in thick, violent red.

Est stumbled back, heart racing, breath caught in his throat. His eyes darted around the room, scanning corners, searching desperately for someone.

And then he saw him.

William, striding down the corridor toward the dressing room, the rest of Lykn following close.

The moment Est burst through the door, his wide, panicked eyes met William’s. Instantly, questions flew—Nut, Lego, the others asking what happened, voices overlapping.

But Est couldn’t focus on any of them.

Until steady, strong hands closed over his shoulders, pulling him against a firm chest. William.

Est finally let himself breathe, sinking into the embrace.

William didn’t waste time. He guided Est out, his arm protective around him, pushing past the chaos of questions.

In the van, William settled Est into the seat gently, as if he might break. Lego slid in beside them for extra cover, but William’s entire attention remained on Est’s trembling hands.

Hands he held, grounding him, refusing to let go.

Inside the van, silence pressed heavy, broken only by Est’s uneven breaths. William sat close, one hand holding Est’s trembling ones, the other resting steady at his back.

“You’re safe,” William said quietly, his voice lower than usual, steady like an anchor. “I won’t let anyone touch you.”

Est looked at him, wide-eyed, still pale. “It was the same… the same as before. But worse.” His voice cracked. “They—crossed out everyone else this time.”

William’s jaw tightened, but he forced calm into his tone. “I know. I saw. Don’t think about it right now. Focus on me.” He squeezed Est’s hands firmly. “Breathe with me, okay?”

Est tried, chest rising and falling unevenly, until eventually his breathing fell in sync with William’s. A small sound escaped him—half a laugh, half a sob. “You’re really counting my breaths?”

William allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch. “Eight hours without kissing you, five minutes too long seeing you panic—yes, I’m counting everything tonight.”

That finally earned a shaky smile from Est. He leaned sideways until his head rested against William’s shoulder, eyes closing just for a moment. William tilted slightly, enough to shelter him, shielding him from the world outside the tinted windows.

Lego, sitting opposite, pretended to scroll his phone, giving them space. But his eyes flickered with worry all the same.

Meanwhile, back at the venue, Nut and Tui had already taken the red box into custody.

Gloved hands opened it carefully again, snapping photos, cataloging the contents. Hong’s expression was tight, his usual lightness gone. “Same handwriting. Same style. This isn’t random—it’s the same stalker.”

Nut’s voice was sharp, clipped. “And they’re escalating. Before, it was just Est. Now they’re targeting all of us.”

Tui slammed the lid shut, expression grim. “We need to tell P’Ko. And tighten security around the apartments. No more direct fan mail. Not even screened gifts. Everything goes through company filters—no exceptions.”

For a long moment, silence hung between them, each processing the weight of it.

Then Nut exhaled slowly. “William’s not going to take this well.”

And he was right. Because even as William held Est steady in the van, his mind was already working through every possible scenario—every loophole, every breach, every shadow they had missed. His protectiveness was no longer just duty. It was personal. Too personal.

And whoever left that box had just crossed a line they would regret.

Chapter Text

When the van finally pulled up to the new apartment, Lego was the first to step out, scanning the area with sharp eyes before guiding Est inside. Est looked pale, shaken, like a single wrong word could shatter him completely. Even though William’s instincts screamed to follow, to stay at Est’s side, he forced himself to hold position.

Duty came first. That was the rule.

William remained in the garage with the rest of Lykn, the red box set on the hood of the car like a poisonous offering. None of them wanted to touch it again. The air was thick, heavy with unspoken tension, their faces tight with restraint.

It was Nut who finally broke the silence. His voice was low, measured, but the edge in it was unmistakable.
“Same stalker. Same handwriting. Only difference—this time, they went after all of us too.” His gaze darkened as he glanced at the photo. “They’re escalating.”

William’s eyes flicked down once more, landing on the image inside. Est was in the center of the picture, smiling like the sun itself. Untouched. But every other face around him—William, Nut, Hong, Tui, Lego—was slashed through violently with red ink.

Something cold and furious settled in William’s chest. His expression hardened, and for a moment, none of them dared to speak.

Tui shifted uneasily, his voice hesitant. “William—”

But William didn’t let him finish. He slammed the hood of the car shut, the sharp metallic clang reverberating through the garage like a gunshot. The sound made even Hong flinch, though his face stayed composed. William’s jaw was so tight, his teeth could have cracked.

“This isn’t just obsession anymore” William said, voice low, steady, but burning with rage. “This is a direct threat.”

Hong swallowed hard, trying to keep his tone calm, professional. “We’ll increase the filters. No more gifts getting through unchecked. Double guards at the apartment. We’ll—”

“It’s not enough.” William’s interruption came like a blade, sharp and absolute. His usual controlled demeanor was gone. His words carried the weight of a man who would burn the world down if it meant Est was safe.

He leaned forward, palms pressing against the car hood, knuckles pale. “Whoever did this knew his schedule. They slipped this into his dressing room—today. Right under our noses.” His eyes flicked toward each of them, dark and deadly. “That means they were close. Too close.”

The words settled heavy in the silence that followed.

For a long moment, William said nothing, his chest rising and falling with the effort to control his anger. Then, his voice dropped, rougher, rawer: “If they can get this close once, they can do it again. And I won’t—” He broke off, his throat tightening. “I won’t risk him.”

Nut stepped forward cautiously, the only one brave enough to bridge the silence. His voice was steady, calm, but laced with quiet defiance.
“William… we get it. He’s not just another assignment.”

William’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing in warning. But Nut didn’t flinch. He held the stare, unyielding, as if daring William to deny the truth they all knew. The others exchanged subtle glances, silent agreement passing among them.

Nut cleared his throat. “Then we protect him like family. Not just a client. No gaps. No excuses.”

For the first time since finding the box, William exhaled. The fury in his chest eased, just slightly, replaced with something steadier, heavier. He looked at each of them in turn—Nut, Hong, Tui—his team, his brothers-in-arms. He gave a sharp nod.

“Good.” he said finally. His voice was calmer now, but laced with steel. “Because if they come after Est again, they won’t just be dealing with him as a public figure.” His eyes darkened, final. “They’ll be dealing with me.”

And none of them doubted it.

The moment stretched, tense and suffocating, until Tui’s voice cut through. “The team is already pulling the surveillance footage. Every hallway, front and back entrances. We’ll track every second.”

William nodded once. His hands relaxed slightly, though his body was still coiled like a predator. “Collect everything. Don’t miss a frame. Whoever left that box was inside with him—they had access. We’re not leaving a single clue behind.”

Hong was already typing on his phone, his expression grim. “P’Ko reported to P’Jin. Expect a meeting soon. They’ll want to strategize.”

The atmosphere was different now—not just tense, but deadly focused. This wasn’t the easy rhythm of a job anymore. This was war preparation.

William pushed off the car and straightened, his presence commanding, sharp enough to cut through the heavy silence. His voice was final, absolute. “We are not giving that motherfucker another chance.”

And with that, he turned, striding toward the elevator that would take him back to Est. One by one, Nut, Hong, and Tui followed, their steps heavy with resolve.

The red box still sat on the car hood, abandoned but not forgotten. A symbol of the threat now hanging over them.

Only William glanced back once, his jaw tight, before stepping inside.
__________

The apartment doors opened with a sharp beep. Est stepped inside, the polished scent of new wood and faint citrus cleaning spray hitting him first. He froze for a second. The place was big, open, modern, but it didn’t feel like his. Not yet. Too many white walls, too many untouched corners.

The weight of the day sat heavy in the unfamiliar silence.

Lego followed him inside, shutting the door gently behind them. Est moved to the couch and sat down almost immediately, pulling the throw blanket around his shoulders. The cushions dipped too much beneath his weight, the air felt too still, the ceiling lights too bright. He tugged the blanket tighter, almost cocooning himself.

Lego set his phone on the table, not far from Est, and leaned against the armrest. “I’ll stay here.” he said simply.

Est’s lips curved faintly, though his eyes stayed fixed on the floor. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know.”

Lego shrugged. “I don’t mind. Besides, William will kill me if I leave you alone right now.”

That pulled a quiet chuckle out of Est, and for a second, the heaviness lifted. He let his body sink further into the couch, pulling his knees up under the blanket. The truth was—he didn’t want Lego to leave. The new apartment was too big, too empty. The thought of being alone in one of those rooms tonight made the back of his neck prickle.

So they sat like that. Lego scrolling half-heartedly on his phone, Est staring into the vague middle distance, the silence filled only with the faint hum of the air conditioning.

It wasn’t long before the door opened again. William stepped in, his tall frame filling the entryway. His expression was still sharp from the garage, jaw locked, eyes sweeping the room like he expected something to lunge out at Est from the shadows. Only when his gaze finally settled on the couch did his shoulders ease, just barely.

“Est” he said, voice low.

Est looked up immediately. The blanket slipped a little off his shoulders, but he didn’t move to fix it. Instead, he let himself just look at William. Something inside him unclenched.

“I’ll take it from here.” William said to Lego without breaking his gaze from Est.

Lego hesitated, glancing at Est, who gave a small nod. With that, Lego stood, stretching his stiff shoulders. “I’ll be outside if you need.” He slipped out quietly, leaving the two of them in the living room.

William crossed the space between them in a few steady steps. He didn’t speak at first—just crouched slightly in front of Est, one hand resting lightly on his knee through the blanket. The warmth of his touch bled straight through the fabric.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

Est gave a shaky exhale, the kind that wasn’t really an answer. “Better now.”

That was all William needed. He slid onto the couch beside him, tugged the blanket down just enough to slip an arm around Est’s waist, and pulled him close. Est went without resistance, curling into William’s chest, the tension in his body melting away piece by piece.

The world outside—the red box, the crossed-out faces, the whispers of danger—felt distant here. With William’s heartbeat steady under his ear, Est finally let himself breathe fully.

They stayed like that for a long while, the kind of silence that wasn’t heavy anymore, but soothing. Est shifted slightly, his fingers brushing against William’s tie before tugging it loose without a word. William let him, leaning into the touch, his eyes never leaving Est’s face.

“You look exhausted.” Est murmured.

William gave a faint huff. “You don’t look much better.”

Est tilted his head, lips quirking. “So we’re a matching pair, then.”

For the first time that night, William smiled. Not the professional mask he wore for the team, but a small, real smile meant only for Est.

Their faces were close now, breaths mingling. Est’s eyes fluttered half-closed, and when William leaned in, their lips met softly. Not rushed, not desperate—just steady, grounding. A kiss that said I’m here. You’re safe.

Est leaned into it, his hands sliding up to William’s shoulders. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against William’s, a quiet giggle escaping. “You taste like my smoothie from this morning.”

William chuckled under his breath. “Of course you’d notice that.” He brushed a thumb over Est’s cheek, lingering there. “You should sleep.”

“Not yet,” Est whispered. His fingers tangled in William’s shirt. “Stay with me a little more.”

William didn’t argue. Instead, he helped Est to his feet, keeping an arm firm around his waist as they walked toward the bedroom. The room smelled faintly of new fabric and untouched wood, the sheets crisp and unfamiliar. Est paused at the doorway, hesitating.

“It doesn’t feel like home yet” he admitted softly.

William pressed a kiss to his temple. “Then we’ll make it one. Together.”

That seemed to be enough. Est stepped inside, pulling William with him. They set their things aside—William removing his suit jacket, Est slipping out of his event clothes. The bathroom light glowed faintly as they freshened up side by side, brushing teeth, washing faces, their shoulders brushing occasionally. Domestic in a way that made Est’s chest ache with something warm.

When they finally crawled into bed, Est nestled against William’s chest, the blanket drawn up around them. William’s arm wrapped firmly around him, hand resting protectively at his waist. Est sighed into the warmth, his eyes heavy.

“You really won’t let me out of your sight, will you?” Est teased faintly, voice slurring with sleep.

“Not a chance.” William replied, pressing a kiss into his hair.

Est smiled, small and content, his earlier fear fading into something softer. “Good. Because I don’t want you to.”

The room fell quiet again, but it was different this time. Not eerie, not unsettling—just peaceful. For the first time in what felt like forever, Est drifted off with the steady rhythm of William’s heartbeat guiding him, cocooned in warmth and safety.

And though William’s eyes stayed open long after Est’s had closed, scanning the shadows of the unfamiliar room, his grip on Est never faltered. Whoever was out there, whoever dared to threaten what he held now—William would be ready.

Across the street, a faint red light blinked once, steady and precise. The lens of a small hidden camera caught the perfect angle through the half-open blinds of Est’s new bedroom window.

On a screen miles away, the feed came alive—William’s arm wrapped protectively around Est, Est’s soft face pressed into his chest, both of them oblivious.

A low chuckle filled the darkened room where the monitor glowed. Fingers tapped against a desk, impatient, obsessive.

“Sweet dreams, Est.” a voice murmured, soft as silk, cold as ice. “You still look best when you think you’re safe.”

The feed crackled faintly, the red light on the camera winking again before fading into the night.

Unnoticed. Watching. Waiting.

Chapter Text

Est woke up to warmth pressed against his back. For someone who had spent so many nights curled up alone, the sensation was still foreign—strange, yet intoxicating. If he said he was already used to it after just a few days, it would’ve been a lie. The new apartment didn’t help either. It still smelled faintly of fresh paint and cardboard, its corners unfamiliar and a little eerie. Every creak of the floorboards, every hum of the refrigerator felt louder here, sharper.

But then there was the steady rise and fall of William’s chest behind him, anchoring him. A heartbeat, steady and calm, seeping into his bones until his own finally slowed. Safe. Protected. His heart loosened the way it always did when he was around William.

Est blinked against the sunlight slipping through the curtains, pale gold against the room’s white walls. He didn’t move, didn’t dare. The world outside could wait. Right now, he wanted to memorize this—the warmth against his skin, the quiet rhythm of William’s breathing, and the hand draped loosely over his waist like it had always belonged there.

He tilted his head just slightly, catching William’s profile. The faint stubble along his jaw, the way his brows relaxed when he wasn’t scowling at the world. Nobody else got to see this side. The leader of Lykn wasn’t supposed to look so soft, so human. But here he was. William. His William.

Est’s lips curved at the thought, though the smile faltered almost immediately as memory sliced through him. The box. The photo. The slashed-out faces. He sucked in a breath and turned onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Don’t think about it. Don’t ruin this moment.

William stirred beside him, lashes fluttering before his eyes opened. Even half-asleep, his gaze sought Est’s immediately, locking onto him with quiet certainty. A small, fleeting smile tugged at his lips—rare, fragile, but enough to make Est’s heart skip.

“You’re awake” William murmured, his voice low, roughened by sleep.

“So are you” Est answered softly, pretending the words didn’t make his chest tighten.

For a few breaths, neither of them moved. The silence wasn’t heavy. It was soft, comforting, like a blanket neither wanted to pull away. William reached out, brushing Est’s hair from his forehead. His fingers lingered a little too long, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the callouses on his skin. Est caught the hand and pressed it against his cheek, holding it there.

Neither spoke, but the unspoken words were clear. This moment was theirs, stolen from a world that would never understand.

Eventually, the day pulled them forward. They slipped into their routine, something that had formed naturally over the past days. William leaning casually against the sink while Est brushed his teeth, watching him like he was memorizing the sight. Est laughed when William insisted on helping him pick an outfit, tugging and smoothing until the clothes sat just right.

“You’re ridiculous” Est teased, though the corners of his lips betrayed him.

“Maybe” William replied, his tone carrying weight beyond the word. He adjusted Est’s collar one last time, his eyes darkening with quiet resolve. “But you’re mine to protect.”

The words sank into Est like a promise. His smile softened. He leaned up, brushed a quick kiss against William’s lips, and whispered, “I know.”

By the time they moved into the living room, the apartment was buzzing. Nut and Hong were already cross-checking today’s schedule with P’Ko, who had arrived earlier than expected. Tui sat hunched over the new security feeds, eyes sharp and unyielding. Lego hovered by the shoe rack, fussing over Est’s sneakers like an overprotective younger brother.

Est looked at them—all of them—and felt something unclench inside. Yes, the apartment was new, unsettling. Yes, last night’s shadows still clung to the back of his mind. But surrounded by these people—his people—he felt untouchable.

He sank onto the couch, William dropping down beside him with deliberate closeness. The warmth of his presence seeped into Est’s skin, grounding him. Maybe I can breathe again, Est thought, closing his eyes for just a moment.

Back at BH building, Est sat before the vanity, the hum of a blow dryer filling the room. P’Ko flipped through today’s schedule, muttering under his breath, while stylists worked with practiced rhythm—powder dusting his cheeks, fingers tugging at fabric, brushing stray hairs back into place.

Est tilted his head toward the mirror. The boy staring back at him looked flawless. He didn’t even look like someone who had found a death threat hidden in a red box less than 24 hours ago. The thought should’ve unsettled him. Instead, he chuckled softly under his breath. He knew why. Lykn. William.

“Why are you smiling?” P’Ko asked without looking up, suspicion lacing his voice.

Est’s grin faltered. “Just… thinking about the fans” he lied easily, the excuse rolling off his tongue.

P’Ko gave him a side-eye, unconvinced, but didn’t press further.

Meanwhile, the mood down the hall was a stark contrast.

The conference room lights buzzed faintly overhead. William stood with his arms crossed, gaze hard and sharp, while Nut, Hong, Tui, and Lego filled the seats around the long table. At the head sat Kim Seokjin, the CEO of BH, calm but grave.

The red box lay in the center of the table, a dark centerpiece. Its contents spread out like evidence in a crime drama. The photo glared up at them—Est untouched, but the others slashed through in thick red marker.

“Escalation.” Jin said flatly, sliding a folder toward William. “This isn’t an ordinary stalker. They’ve got insider-level information. Dressing room access is restricted. Every gift is screened. Yet somehow, this still got through.”

William’s jaw clenched. His voice was low, measured, but sharp enough to cut. “Which means either someone slipped past—or someone helped them.”

The words dropped like a stone in the room.

Tui was the first to break the silence, his voice steady but tense. “You’re saying it’s an inside leak?”

“I’m saying.” Jin replied, his gaze unwavering, “whoever this is, they aren’t just a fan with a grudge. They’re organized. And they’re close.”

Lego’s hands curled into fists against the table. “So P’Est’s not safe anywhere.”

William’s eyes darkened, but his tone remained controlled. Every word was a vow. “He’s safe with us. We’ll make sure of it.”

Nut leaned forward, his gaze locked on William. “Then we don’t leave his side. Not for a second.”

Jin nodded once. “Good. Double rotations. Every package, every letter, every so-called ‘gift’ goes through inspection. Cameras monitored twenty-four hours. And William—” Jin’s tone sharpened, “—you’re the lead on this. I don’t care how close you stand, how much you shadow him—Est cannot know how serious this is. He has to stay calm for the fans. That’s your job. Protect the boy. Keep him smiling. Everything else comes second.”

Nut exchanged a glance with Hong. They could see it—the storm simmering just behind William’s eyes. But they didn’t say a word. Not yet.

The words cut deeper than they sounded. Protect him. Keep him smiling. As if I don’t already know that better than anyone.

William’s mind betrayed him with flashes—Est’s giggle against his lips the night before, the way his hands had trembled when the photo slid from the box, his whispered “don’t leave me.” His heart clenched painfully. Steady. For him.

Finally, William gave a clipped nod, sealing his vow. “Understood.”

Back in the dressing room, Est smoothed his outfit one last time. The mirror reflected a boy who looked radiant, untouchable. The kind of glow that would make fans scream. But as his fingers lingered on his sleeve, his thoughts drifted. Somewhere down the hall, William was in a meeting, making plans he would never tell him. Plans that decided how close danger really was.

Est sighed quietly. Just trust them. Just trust him.

P’Ko bumped his shoulder gently. “Ready?”

Est glanced at his reflection once more, at the boy who looked calmer than he felt. He forced his lips into a soft, certain smile.

“Yeah” he said, voice steady. “I’m ready.”

_________

The roar of the crowd hit him before he even stepped out.

Est sat just behind the curtain, fingers fiddling nervously with the hem of his sleeve. The muffled screams of his name, the clapping thunder, the anticipation—it all pressed against his chest like a second heartbeat. No matter how long he’d been in the industry, this part never got old. Terrifying, yes, but also electrifying.

“You’re on in thirty” a stage manager said, tapping her headset, and Est nodded.

Beside him, William stood in all black, headset mic tucked along his jaw, sharp eyes scanning every detail of the stage and crowd like a predator in its element. To everyone else, he was the unshakable leader of Lykn—cold, calculating, untouchable. To Est, though, he was the warmth he woke up to that morning, the hand steadying him when no one was watching.

Est’s gaze lingered too long. William caught it. For a fraction of a second, his features softened. No words, no public declarations—but his hand brushed against Est’s wrist as if to say, I’m here. You’re fine.

Est bit back a smile.

Then the cue hit. The lights dimmed, the host’s voice boomed, and Est walked onto the stage.

The sound that erupted was deafening. Fans screamed his name, lightsticks waved in a sea of colors, banners with his face fluttered in the air. The adrenaline kicked in immediately, sweeping away the earlier nerves. He bowed, flashing the soft smile that fans adored, and took his seat beside the MC.

“Est Supha!” the host announced. “Back again after a few months’ break, and already making waves with your new drama!”

The cheers doubled. Est laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m so grateful to be back” he admitted. “I’ve missed everyone a lot.”

The fans screamed in response, some yelling his name, others shouting we missed you more! It made his chest warm.

He answered questions, his voice gentle, his smile growing more natural as the minutes passed.

“P’Est, what do you eat to stay so handsome?” a fan called out.
“Mostly stress and coffee,” Est teased, and the crowd burst into laughter.

The atmosphere was light, easy—exactly what fans came for. William stood off-stage with Lykn, arms crossed, gaze sharp as ever. But every time Est’s laugh carried across the speakers, his expression softened just a fraction. No one else noticed, but the others in Lykn did.

Then it happened.

“P’Est, say you love us!” someone shouted.

Est grinned, raising both hands in a heart. “I love you all!”

The questions flowed easily—about his role, about filming with Eunwoo, about the OST release. Est answered politely, charming as always. But every so often, his eyes wandered to the side of the stage, where Lykn stood like a shadowed wall. Tui and Hong scanned the crowd, Nut whispered occasionally into his comms, Lego shifted closer to the barricade where fans leaned in too far. And William—William’s gaze was fixed solely on him, unwavering.

Est pretended not to notice. He failed spectacularly.

The fans noticed too. They always did.

“Est oppa, why is that bodyguard staring at you like that?” one bold voice shouted from the front row. Laughter rippled through the audience.

Est froze. His ears went hot, but he quickly masked it with a laugh, shaking his head. “He’s just doing his job!” he said, waving it off.

But the crowd had caught fire. Whispers turned into chants, playful at first, then louder. “WILLIAM–EST! WILLIAM–EST!”

Est’s heart thudded so hard he thought his mic would pick it up. He forced another laugh, ducking his head, but his gaze flicked—traitorous—toward the sidelines. William hadn’t moved. Still stone-faced. Still watching. If not for the faint tightening around his mouth, no one would guess he’d heard.

Fans screamed louder, feeding off Est’s blush. The shipping had always been a quiet undercurrent online, but now it burst into the open.

The MC grinned, sensing opportunity. “Seems like the fans have noticed something, Est. Is there a story we should know?”

Est coughed, scrambling for words. “No, no—nothing like that” he said, though his voice cracked embarrassingly at the end. The audience howled with laughter.

Behind him, he could almost feel William’s glare burning holes through the MC’s back.

The event continued—games, fan questions, even a short live singing segment. Est relaxed more as time went on, smiling genuinely when the fans sang along with him. Every moment, though, he was aware of William’s presence. The way his posture stiffened whenever Est leaned too close to the edge of the stage. The subtle signal to Lego when a fan reached out too aggressively. The invisible tether between them was impossible to ignore.

And then it happened.

During a fan interaction segment, gifts were being passed forward through staff. Flowers, plushies, small letters—all filtered, all safe. Until one box slipped through.

It wasn’t large, just small enough to be overlooked in the commotion. A fan in the third row had pushed it forward with frantic hands, insisting it was for Est. The staff hesitated, then handed it up.

Est reached out automatically, smile still in place. The crowd screamed in delight. But William’s eyes narrowed instantly.

“Stop him.” he muttered into his comms.

Too late. The box was already in Est’s hands.

He lifted the lid.

Inside—nothing dangerous. Just a small teddy bear, its button eyes shining under the lights. Est let out a small laugh of relief, holding it up for the fans to see. The crowd cooed, the MC teased him about being popular. Everything seemed fine.

But William’s gaze stayed locked on the box. His jaw tight. His instincts screamed.

Then came the second disruption.

A commotion erupted near the left side of the barricade—two fans shouting at each other, one claiming the gift had been hers, the other denying it. Security moved in quickly, separating them, but the noise spread like wildfire. The crowd surged, some screaming, some trying to record the fight.

Est froze mid-laugh, eyes darting nervously toward the disturbance.

William moved instantly. He was at Est’s side in seconds, one hand firm at the small of his back, subtly guiding him away from the stage edge. “Smile.” he murmured so only Est could hear. “Don’t let them see you panic.”

Est’s breath hitched, but he obeyed—lifting the teddy bear again, forcing a light chuckle as if nothing was wrong. The fans cheered, distracted, the MC scrambling to regain control of the situation.

The crowd screamed so loud that it drowned the speakers, the unease feeling inside him intensified. Still, Est kept up his smile, but his palms were becoming damp against the mic.

Then the pitch of the screams changed—cheerful shrieks cutting into panicked cries.

At first, Est didn’t understand. Then he saw it—rows shifting, fans shoving, someone tumbling against the barrier. A banner snapped in two, and a girl screamed in pain as she fell hard to the ground.

The entire atmosphere flipped in an instant.

Security scrambled forward, staff pushing through as the cries grew louder. Phones shot up, flashes blinding as fans filmed the chaos, rumors spreading before the scene was even under control.

On stage, Est froze. His mic lowered, eyes wide. He stepped toward the edge of the stage, panic in his voice. “Is she okay—?”

But William was already moving.

“Lego, keep him back. Tui, left flank. Nut, Hong—clear a path.” he ordered through his earpiece, voice razor-sharp. His body was already shifting toward the crowd, scanning.

Est felt Lego at his side, gently tugging him back from the edge. “P’Est, stay here.” Lego whispered, tone firmer than usual.

Est bit his lip, worry etched on his face, but he obeyed. He stayed on stage, forcing a shaky smile as fans kept calling his name. “It’s okay, don’t panic. Please, stay calm.” His voice cracked, but the effort was there—for them. Always for them.

William didn’t look at Est. His eyes swept the floor, cutting through the chaos.

That was when he saw it.

Amid the scuffle of fans pushing, crying, filming—the swirl of chaos—one figure stood perfectly still.

Unmoving. Untouched. While others stumbled and shoved, they didn’t flinch. No panic. No fear. Their gaze was steady, locked entirely on Est.

William’s breath stilled. His instincts flared so hard his skin prickled.

And then the figure tilted their head, slow, deliberate, like they knew he was watching. Their eyes lifted—meeting William’s across the mess.

Calm. Cold. Almost amused.

The shouts and cries of the crowd blurred, muffled against the sudden thrum in William’s ears. For that split second, it was just the two of them.

Everyone else was chaos. That one was silence.

William’s jaw clenched. His entire body screamed danger.

The crowd swallowed the moment, security dragging the injured girl out, staff shouting into megaphones. Est forced another smile for his fans, his voice trembling but steady.

But William’s eyes didn’t leave that figure.

Because while everyone else panicked, that one person stayed far too calm.

And that was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Chapter Text

The abandoned building breathed with shadows, every corner heavy with silence. The air was thick, the kind that made your skin crawl, every creak of rusted metal echoing too loudly.

The black-masked man shifted uneasily, glancing toward the shattered windows. His voice cracked as he spoke.

“W-William… he might have noticed me.”

From across the lot, someone straightened from where he’d been leaning against a sleek, black car. The sound of polished shoes striking the dusty concrete carried through the space, sharp and deliberate.

He stopped just in front of the stalker, his presence towering, suffocating.

“That—” the figure’s voice was low, steady, and chillingly controlled, “—was not in the plan.”

The masked man’s knees weakened. He tried to explain, words spilling out too quickly. “I couldn’t run… it—it was chaos out there. A mess, I swear, I—”

A single, cutting glance from the figure silenced him instantly. The weight of it was enough to press the words back down his throat.

For a moment, nothing moved. The building seemed to hold its breath.

Then the figure leaned closer, his words soft but razor-sharp. “Leaving traces is the same as signing your own confession. Don’t expect me to clean up your mistakes. And don’t—ever—expect me to save you.”

The masked man swallowed hard, his hands trembling at his sides.

The figure didn’t wait for a response. He turned, coat sweeping behind him as he moved toward the waiting car. Two bodyguards immediately opened the door, their movements efficient, wordless.

The last thing the stalker saw before the car door shut was the faint reflection of cold eyes in the tinted glass—eyes that promised this was only the beginning.

The engine roared to life, and in seconds, the car disappeared into the night, leaving the abandoned building to its silence once more.
———————

The meeting room at BH felt colder than the night outside.

Est had been rushed here straight from his solo event, still in his stage outfit, the makeup beginning to itch against his skin. He hadn’t even had the chance to catch his breath. The atmosphere inside the room was suffocating—the kind of heaviness that made his chest tighten as soon as the door shut behind him.

Lykn were already there, lined up in front of the long glass table. Their usual energy—Nut’s snark, Hong’s steady calm, Lego’s warmth, Tui’s sharpness—was stripped away. They stood stiff, shoulders locked, waiting. And in the center seat at the table sat CEO Jin, eyes fixed on them with the weight of a man about to pass judgment.

The red box lay on the table, the photo inside still mocking them with its cruel red slashes. Est’s smile untouched. Everyone else defaced.

Jin’s fingers drummed once against the table, then stopped. “What happened tonight?”

Silence stretched too long. Est’s throat felt dry. He sat to the side like an intruder in his own life, watching his protectors cornered.

Finally, William stepped forward. His voice was even, low. “There was a commotion in the crowd. It was handled immediately. Est was never exposed to direct harm.”

Est blinked. Commotion? He remembered the chaos—the fans surging, the scream, the sudden pull as William dragged him closer, shielding his body. But he hadn’t thought it was more than a fanfight. He hadn’t seen anything.

Jin’s gaze sharpened. “Handled? That looked like a breakdown to me. A thousand cameras caught that chaos. Your job isn’t just to shield him. It’s to prevent this kind of spectacle before it happens.”

Nut bristled. “With respect, sir, no one could’ve predicted a brawl breaking out between fans—”

“Don’t insult me” Jin snapped, his voice cracking like a whip. The sudden force made Est flinch. “This wasn’t a random fight. This was orchestrated. Someone stirred that crowd. Someone planned it. And all of you—” his eyes burned over Lykn, one by one—“failed to stop it.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Est looked toward William instinctively, searching for reassurance, but William wasn’t looking at him. The leader stood rigid, eyes dark, a storm held in check.

Then William said it, voice dropping like stone: “It wasn’t random. I saw them.”

Est’s heart lurched. He turned sharply toward him, confusion flashing across his face. Saw who?

Jin leaned forward, voice cutting. “Saw who?”

William’s eyes narrowed slightly, like replaying the image in his head. “A man in the crowd. Masked, still. But he wasn’t panicked. Not like the others. He stood still while everyone else screamed. Watching Est. Too calm.” His hand curled into a fist at his side. “That wasn’t a fan. That was him.”

The words chilled Est more than the air-conditioning ever could.
Him? His pulse quickened. He wanted to ask, to demand clarity, but his voice stuck in his throat.

Jin’s expression darkened. “And you didn’t catch him?”

William’s jaw tightened, muscle flickering. “No. He slipped. Too many bodies, too much noise. But I know what I saw.” His voice dropped, dangerous, absolute. “And I will find him.”

The promise carried a heat that made even Jin pause.

Est, sitting quietly at the edge, felt his stomach knot. He hated it—hated that William was speaking like this, hated that he was learning pieces of his own danger from the sidelines. His hands trembled in his lap. Why didn’t he tell me? Why can’t I ever see what he sees?

Jin broke the silence with a cold laugh, short and sharp. “So let me understand. The leader of Lykn spotted the stalker himself—our enemy standing right there—and instead of capturing him, you let him slip. And now you sit here asking me to trust you’ll somehow find him again?”

No one breathed.

Hong opened his mouth as if to defend William, but William lifted a hand—just slightly, enough to silence him. His eyes never left Jin’s.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying” William said. His tone was calm, but the weight behind it was anything but. “Because no one in this building knows his patterns the way I do. No one watches him the way I do. You put someone else in my place, you’ll have Est smiling for cameras while the stalker slips the knife in.” His voice hardened, steel beneath every word. “If you want to protect him, you leave him with me.”

The air in the room snapped tight.

Est’s lips parted, breath catching. William had said it so plainly, so fiercely, that the words landed heavier than any confession. He stared at him, a flush rising unbidden, but also fear threading through his veins. Because William wasn’t just his protector in this moment. He sounded like something else—something dangerous.

Jin’s eyes narrowed, the flicker of calculation showing. “You’re asking me to stake his life on your word.”

William didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

For a moment, no one moved. The only sound was the faint buzz of the fluorescent lights above.

Then Jin stood. The scrape of his chair against the polished floor cut through Est like a blade. “Fine. I’ll give you this chance. But hear me clearly, William.” His voice dropped, laced with steel. “If there’s another slip, another spectacle, if I so much as hear Est’s name tangled with the word stalker in the press—Lykn is finished. You will be replaced.”

The words slammed down like a sentence. Est’s heart stuttered.

Nut stiffened, Tui’s hands curled into fists, Hong’s jaw tightened—but none of them spoke.

William’s expression didn’t shift. He bowed his head slightly, voice quiet but unyielding. “Understood.”

Est looked at him, trying to read the flicker in his eyes. But William’s mask was back in place, unreadable, controlled.

He hated it.
He hated sitting here, feeling like a child while decisions were made about him. Hated that William was carrying something he couldn’t even see.

For the first time, Est realized this wasn’t just his danger. It was theirs too.

The meeting was over seconds after. The door to the BH Building’s conference room shut behind them with a hollow thud, but the weight of Jin’s words stayed pressed against Est’s chest like a brand he couldn’t scrub off.

“One more mistake, and you’re all replaceable.”

The sentence repeated in his head, as sharp and unforgiving as the man who spoke it.

Est walked beside William in silence, his steps slow, almost dragging against the polished floors. William’s strides, in contrast, were steady and purposeful—hands in his pockets, gaze fixed forward, like none of it had reached him. Like Jin’s threat was nothing more than a breeze passing by.

But Est had seen it.
He wasn’t imagining things.

He’d seen the way William’s face shifted during the event earlier. That fleeting moment when William’s jaw had tensed, eyes narrowing toward the crowd. The way his body stiffened, alert, protective.

Someone was there. Someone William had recognized. And Est was certain of it.

Yet William hadn’t said a word. Not to Jin. Not to the others. Not to him.

The elevator ride down was suffocatingly quiet. Est pressed his back against the wall, watching the numbers blink down—15, 14, 13—every floor feeling like an eternity. The silence between them was thick, heavier than Jin’s anger, heavier than the whole damn building.

By the time they stepped out onto the parking lot, Est’s heart was pounding, his throat tight. The cool night air brushed his skin, but it didn’t ease the heat rising inside him.

He saw something. I know he did. Then why—why won’t he just tell me?

“Are you going to say something?” Est finally muttered, his voice barely above the noise of cars passing by.

William didn’t look at him. Didn’t slow down. Just kept walking, steps echoing against the pavement.

Est clenched his jaw. “P’Jin just threatened to tear you all apart, and you’re fine with that? You’re just—walking like nothing happened?”

Still no answer.

The anger inside Est flared. Every time he’d swallowed it back before—every night in that eerily quiet apartment, every whisper he heard about the stalker, every dismissive pat on the shoulder from Jin—it all came crashing to the surface now.

He quickened his pace, moving in front of William, blocking his path.

“You saw something.... someone.” Est said, sharper this time, eyes burning into William’s. “I’m not stupid, William. Your whole expression changed back there. Who was it?”

William stopped, finally, but his silence stretched like a wall between them. His eyes flickered—dark, unreadable—but his lips didn’t part.

Est’s pulse hammered.

“Why won’t you just tell me?!” His voice cracked. He grabbed William’s sleeve, fingers tightening desperately around the fabric. “Why do you all treat me like I’m some fragile idiot who can’t handle the truth?”

The words came spilling out, raw and jagged, more than he intended but too much to hold back.

“You think I didn’t notice?” Est’s voice shook as he went on. “The way P’Jin looks at me like I’m a burden, the way all of you bow your heads like criminals when he speaks? I was there, William. I heard everything. And still—you’re silent. All of you are silent.”

William’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

The silence shredded Est from the inside out.

“Do you know what it feels like?” His throat tightened, almost choking on the words. “To stand in that room and realize I don’t even know what danger I’m in? To see your face change and not know why?” His voice wavered. “I’m the one being stalked. Me. Not P’Jin. Not you. Me. And yet I’m the only one kept in the dark.”

Memories flashed unbidden—Lego refusing to leave him alone in the eerie new apartment, the way he slept curled up on the living room couch because the silence of his bedroom felt wrong, how William had pulled him into that room and kissed him like a promise. The warmth of William’s arms, the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

And now? Now William stood in front of him, cold and silent, as though none of it meant anything.

“Say something! Damn it, William, say something!” Est’s voice rang out, hoarse, desperate. “Do you even care what this is doing to me? Or am I just another job to you?”

The question was cruel. Harsher than he wanted. But it clawed its way out before he could stop it.

William’s expression shifted, almost imperceptibly—something flickered there, something that looked like pain—but he still didn’t speak.

That was the breaking point.

Est’s chest caved with the weight of it. His vision blurred, not from tears but from the raw ache of helplessness. He let out a bitter laugh, the sound jagged and small.

“Right. Of course. You’ll just keep quiet. Like always.”

The parking lot lamp above flickered, casting fractured shadows across William’s face. For a heartbeat, Est thought he saw something more—guilt, longing, something locked deep behind William’s eyes. But it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t what he needed.

“I can’t do this.” Est whispered, voice trembling. “Not like this.”

His hands fell to his sides, empty, useless. He turned, his footsteps uneven but determined, putting distance between himself and the silence that suffocated him.

Behind him, William stayed still, swallowed by the night.

Est didn’t look back. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he was afraid he’d crumble.
———————

The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the city beyond the glass windows. Est had retreated into the bedroom hours ago, slamming the door shut behind him. He hadn’t spoken another word since he stormed away on the street.

He’d curled up on the far side of the bed, his back to the door, staring blankly at the wall. The shadows stretched long across the ceiling, and though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind refused to quiet.

The fight replayed in his head again and again—his words, sharp and cruel, the look on William’s face, the silence that had burned more than any insult ever could. Every time Est closed his eyes, the memory seared itself deeper.

And yet, when the door opened softly later that night, Est didn’t move. Didn’t turn. Didn’t even breathe differently.

He knew it was William.

The quiet rustle of clothes being set aside. The muted click of the bathroom door, the sound of running water. Then silence again.

The bed dipped gently under William’s weight. Est tensed, every muscle stiff, expecting distance—expecting William to sleep on the other side, or worse, leave altogether.

But instead, a warm arm slid around his waist. Slowly. Carefully.

Est froze.

William’s chest pressed against his back, steady and solid, the rhythm of his breathing brushing faintly against Est’s neck. His hold was firm but not suffocating, protective in a way that made Est’s throat ache.

Est wanted to shove him away. Wanted to scream, don’t touch me if you can’t even speak to me.
But his body betrayed him. The tension bled out of his shoulders, his eyes burned, and before he knew it, his fingers were clutching at the sheet beneath him, holding himself together.

William didn’t say a word. He didn’t try to explain. Didn’t apologize.

He just held him.

Est hated how much he needed it. Hated how the warmth seeped into the cracks of his chest, how his heart steadied against the quiet thrum of William’s pulse.

A single tear slid down his cheek, soaking into the pillow. He shut his eyes tight, angry at himself, angry at William, angry at everything.

But William’s arm tightened ever so slightly, as if he could feel the silent breaking inside him.

For the first time since the fight, Est allowed himself to breathe. Just a little. Just enough.

And though he swore he wouldn’t, his body betrayed him again. Slowly, without meaning to, he let his weight sink back into William’s embrace.

They didn’t speak.
They didn’t need to.
The silence was still there—heavy, unresolved—but in that moment, at least, neither of them were alone.

Chapter Text

The first thing Est noticed when he woke up was the weight around his waist. Solid. Familiar. Safe.

William’s arm.

For a moment, half-buried in the pillow, Est almost let himself melt into it. The steady warmth against his back was addictive, like a drug his body craved even when his mind screamed at him to pull away.

Then he remembered the night before.

The fight. His voice, sharp and breaking. William’s silence, sharper still. The way the room had felt like it was splintering under the pressure of words they didn’t know how to say right.

Est blinked hard against the sting in his eyes, careful not to shift too much. He didn’t want William to wake. Not yet. He needed space. Air.

Slowly, he lifted William’s heavy arm, easing it off his waist inch by inch. His chest tightened when William stirred, murmuring something half-asleep, but Est didn’t pause. He slid out of bed, feet hitting the cold floor, and padded toward the bathroom.

He didn’t look back.

Inside, the mirror greeted him with a face he barely recognized. Eyes tired, lips pressed tight, shoulders hunched like he was bracing for a blow.

“You’re fine.” he whispered to his reflection. “You’re fine.”

He washed up quietly, the cold water splashing his cheeks like a reset button. By the time he stepped out, William was awake — sitting up against the headboard, hair mussed, eyes locked on him.

The silence between them was unbearable.

“Morning” Est forced out, voice light, pretending nothing was wrong.

William didn’t reply immediately. His gaze softened just slightly, but the storm behind his eyes hadn’t gone anywhere. Finally, he murmured, “Morning.”

It felt like glass between them. Fragile, dangerous.

The rest of the morning moved in a blur.

William hovered — not with words, but with presence. Every step Est took, William’s shadow followed. When Est picked his outfit, William adjusted his collar like always, but his touch lingered longer than usual, like he was asking for forgiveness without saying the words.

Est smiled for him. He always did. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes, not today.

By the time they left the apartment, other guys were already waiting. Nut and Hong were going over schedules with P’Ko, Lego cracked a joke too loud in an effort to break the tension, and Tui pretended not to notice the stiffness between William and Est.

But they all noticed.
——————————

Finally, the first episode of the series with Eunwoo was set to air today.

There was going to be a small in-house gathering—just the staff, director, producers, and actors watching it together. A quiet milestone, but a milestone nonetheless.

Before that, though, Est had to get ready at the BH building.

The atmosphere inside felt normal, deceptively so. Trainees hurried through the hallways with nervous laughter, the muffled bass of practice rooms shook the walls, idols rushed past in a blur of stylists and outfits. Just another day at the company—at least on the surface.

Est slipped into his role with ease, laughing at something Lego said, bowing politely to staff, flashing the smile fans adored. It was second nature now, the polished mask he wore so well.

William, however, was different. He stayed quiet, his jaw set, eyes scanning every detail around them. Watchful. Unyielding. He didn’t soften, not even for a moment.

Turning a corner toward the makeup room, Est suddenly bumped into Jimin, already dressed for his own schedule.

Est froze for half a second before bowing deeply.

Jimin, with his freshly blond hair catching the hallway light and his sleek outfit fitting him perfectly, returned the bow—though he didn’t have to. His lips curved into that effortless smile.

“Best of luck for your big day.” Jimin said, his voice smooth, low, almost sly.

Est’s ears burned, and he bowed again, mumbling softly, “Thank you, Phi.”

It was a fleeting interaction, but it reminded him just how big this day really was. How much it meant. How sharp the turn in his cracked career might be.

Blinking away his worries, Est settled into the makeup chair.

Steffy started her usual cheerful chatter as she worked, the brush sweeping across his skin. Est tried to focus on her words, but his eyes betrayed him—drifting to the mirror in front of him. Searching.

And there he was.

William.

Unlike usual, he hadn’t stepped out to give Steffy space. Instead, he stood against the white wall, arms folded, eyes fixed on Est’s reflection in the mirror.

Unmoving.

Est broke the eye contact first, forcing himself to focus on the brush in Steffy’s hand. His chest felt tight.

Then, the door swung open.

P’Ko walked in, followed by Lego and Tui.

“A change of plan” P’Ko announced briskly. “P’Jin will be accompanying you today.”

Est immediately sat straighter. Beside him, William pushed off from the wall, his posture shifting in quiet readiness.

Est wanted to ask why—but he knew better. Jin didn’t make decisions without reason. So he nodded silently, swallowing the questions.

William, however, wasn’t so easily swayed. His voice cut through the room, calm but edged.

“Why out of nowhere?”

P’Ko shuffled through the schedule papers in his hands. “Not sure. Some of the other CEOs might be attending.”

William’s stare lingered, sharp with disbelief, but he let it go—at least outwardly. He returned to silence, though the air around him felt heavier.

Behind P’Ko, Lego slipped past and plopped himself beside Est. His eyes were wide, restless.

“Are you nervous? I’m nervous” Lego blurted out.

Est chuckled quietly at his honesty.

Tui leaned in, teasing, “Phi Est is the lead actor, not you.”

Lego pouted dramatically. “I’m nervous because I’m his biggest fan.”

Est’s laughter came a little easier then. The room lightened. His eyes flicked up to the mirror again—meeting William’s steady gaze.

This time, he didn’t look away. Instead, Est smiled, small but real.

And William… William smiled back. Just enough.

It will be fine,Est told himself. They will be fine.

The ride to the venue was unusually quiet.

Est sat in the backseat beside Jin, the soft hum of the car filling the silence. William was in the passenger seat up front, posture rigid, head slightly turned as he watched the road with a soldier’s focus.

Normally, Est would’ve ridden with the rest of Lykn and P’Ko. There was safety in numbers, in their loud chatter that drowned out the noise in his head. But tonight, Jin had asked specifically for him to ride along—and Est knew better than to question Jin outright.

The tinted glass separated them from the world outside, yet Est could feel the weight of eyes everywhere. It was inescapable now.

Jin’s voice finally broke the silence. Low, measured.

“Est.”

Est turned slightly, meeting his CEO’s sharp gaze. Jin wasn’t one to waste words.

“There’s something you need to know.”

Est straightened instinctively, his fingers curling against his knees. “…What is it, Phi?”

Jin’s jaw tensed. He leaned back, his hand tapping faintly against his thigh—a rare tell that his temper simmered close to the surface.

“Krit is making his comeback tonight. A new series. Airing almost the same time as yours.”

The words landed heavy, even though Est had braced himself for anything. He blinked once, twice, his chest tightening.

Krit.

The name alone stirred old wounds he had worked hard to bury beneath practice, laughter, and the busy rhythm of schedules. Krit, the ex who had left scars he never let anyone see. Krit, who was still beloved, untouchable in the eyes of the industry.

And now—of course—it had to be today.

Est’s lips parted, but no words came out.

Beside him, Jin continued, his tone clipped. “The timing isn't a coincidence. You know how this works.”

Est lowered his gaze to his lap, fingers clenching around the fabric of his pants. “So… that’s why you’re coming with me.”

Jin didn’t answer immediately. His silence was confirmation enough.

From the front, William shifted slightly, his head tilting just enough to glance back through the rearview mirror. His eyes locked on Est’s reflection—steady, unreadable, but carrying weight.

Est looked away first, staring out the dark window. The city lights blurred past, golden streaks against the glass. For a moment, he thought about how it would feel to disappear into them.

Jin finally spoke again, voice firm. “No matter what, you don’t lose your composure tonight. You smile, you own the room, and you don’t give anyone—even him—the satisfaction of seeing you falter.”

Est nodded weakly. His throat burned. “…Yes, Phi.”

The car lapsed into silence again, but it wasn’t the same quiet as before. This one was heavier, filled with things unsaid.

William didn’t speak either. But his hand, resting on the armrest between the seats in front, curled into a fist. Subtle. Controlled. Yet Est noticed.

And somehow, that silent gesture steadied him more than any words could.

The BH event hall buzzed with life the moment Est stepped inside.

Rows of cushioned seats were arranged before the wide screen, the stage draped in sleek banners with the series title shining in bold letters. Staff moved briskly between aisles, checking sound, lights, refreshments. Laughter echoed from a corner where junior actors gathered, already snapping behind-the-scenes photos for social media.

To anyone else, it looked like a celebration. To Est, it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.

“Phi Est!” one of the coordinators waved him over with a bright smile. He returned it automatically, his body slipping into the rhythm he’d mastered—bow politely, smile with his eyes, exchange greetings like every move was choreographed.

Eunwoo was already there, in a sharp black suit that caught the light with every step. He turned when he saw Est, his grin widening in that effortless way that made fans swoon.

“There you are” Eunwoo said, stepping forward, charming as always. “I thought you’d ditch me on our big night.”

Est chuckled softly. “You know I wouldn’t survive the scandal.”

They laughed, shoulders brushing as they moved toward the stage together. From the corner of his eye, Est caught William watching from the side of the hall—expression unreadable, arms crossed. Always watching.

Jin had already taken a seat in the front row beside producers and director, his presence a silent warning to anyone who might try to stir trouble. The weight of it anchored Est, though unease still coiled in his chest. Krit’s name lingered like a bruise he couldn’t stop pressing.

“Shall we?” the director clapped his hands, ushering them toward the center. “A few words before we start the screening.”

Est and Eunwoo stood side by side as cameras flashed.

“First of all” Est began, his voice steady though his palms felt warm against the mic, “thank you for all of your efforts. This day wouldn’t be happening without each and every one of you here. I’m really grateful for all the hard work—the late nights, the patience, the guidance.”

He paused, letting his gaze sweep gently across the hall. “And thank you, Eunwoo, for making the journey a little easier. Working with you has been… more fun than I expected,” he added with a small chuckle, earning a few laughs from the audience.

“I truly hope we all get the best results from this series. Once again, thank you.”

The hall erupted in warm applause, staff and actors clapping in unison. Est bowed lightly, his smile soft but sincere. And as he straightened, his eyes instinctively drifted past the rows of seats—landing on William, standing at the far end of the hall, silent but unshakably present.

A comfort. A reminder.

Just beside him, the rest of Lykn stood close, their presence firm like an invisible wall between him and the world.

After Est's speech, Eunwoo leaned casually against the podium after his turn, throwing in an easy joke that earned warm laughter from the room.

And then it began—the first episode.

The lights dimmed, the chatter hushed, and the screen lit up with Est’s face.

He wasn’t watching himself, not really. He was watching the reactions. The way the staff leaned forward, the murmurs of approval, the spark of pride in the director’s eyes. Even Jin’s usually cold face softened slightly at the edges.

Then came the scene where Est and Eunwoo shared their first onscreen moment—subtle tension, quiet glances, the beginning of something.

The room reacted immediately. Whispers rippled, a few teasing giggles. Some staff clapped lightly, nudging each other.

“Chemistry.” someone whispered loud enough for Est to hear. “They look so good together.”

The word hung in the air, and Est forced a smile, bowing his head slightly. Eunwoo chuckled, leaning closer just enough for his voice to reach him.

“They’re not wrong.”

Est blinked, startled, before laughing softly—too soft, too quick, hoping no one noticed the pink creeping up his ears.

But someone did.

From the shadows at the back of the hall, William’s gaze sharpened, locking onto the slight curve of Est’s lips. His jaw flexed, the tension in his body unmistakable to anyone who dared look too long.

Est felt it even without turning. The weight of William’s stare pressed against him, heavy, unrelenting. His chest tightened, but he didn’t look away from the screen. He couldn’t.

The episode ended with thunderous applause, cheers filling the hall. The director rose, clapping enthusiastically. Eunwoo bowed low, grinning from ear to ear, while Est followed, heart racing for reasons no one else would ever know.

Jin stood, his voice cutting through the noise. “Good work. All of you.” His eyes flicked briefly to Est—sharp, unreadable—before moving to William, who still hadn’t shifted from his post at the side.

The applause faded into casual chatter as people mingled, congratulating one another. Eunwoo’s hand brushed Est’s arm, pulling him toward a group of staff who wanted photos. Est smiled, posing easily, the mask sliding back into place.

But when the cameras flashed again, his gaze drifted past the crowd.

To the very back.

Where, for the briefest moment, he swore he saw someone standing too still. Watching too closely.

And when the light flickered across the stranger’s face, Est froze.

He had seen the same face somewhere else. In some other crowd.

But here, he was someone who didn’t belong.

And William noticed too.

Their eyes met across the hall—William’s narrowing as he tracked the figure, Est’s widening as his breath caught. The stranger slipped away into the crowd before anyone else registered the unease.

Only Est and William.

Only them.