Chapter Text
The city lights still clung to Phuwin’s skin when he stepped into his condo, the faint smell of stage makeup and exhaustion from his earlier event trailing behind. He didn’t even bother to switch on the bright ceiling lamps, just let the soft glow from the hallway spill into the living room as he dropped onto the couch with a sigh. His jacket slid halfway down his arm and his head tipping back against the cushions like he’d finally allowed himself to collapse.
Pond closed the door with his usual quiet precision and scanning the room once out of habit. Every lock secured, every shadow harmless. Only then did he look at the boy sprawled on the couch, the one he had been guarding for three years now.
“Rest. I’ll bring you water, Phuwin,” Pond said, his voice low and clipped, as if even kindness had to sound like obeying an order.
He didn’t wait for a reply, just turned toward the kitchen. Behind him, Phuwin let out a small laugh and almost too soft to catch. A laugh that didn’t reach his eyes, not tonight and not anyday.
Pond circled around the kitchen counter, his movements steady and practiced. The glass filled with cold water under his hand, condensation already forming against the warmth of his skin. Without looking, he reached up to the cabinet above the counter- one shelf no one touched but him.
Every night. Without fail. For the last year.
The cabinet creaked open and Pond’s jaw tightened. Three bottles lined up neatly, waiting for him like clockwork. He sighed through his nose, the sound nearly swallowed by the hum of the refrigerator, before unscrewing each cap with slow and careful fingers. One tablet from the first. One from the second. One from the third. A ritual he hated but couldn’t afford to miss.
He was just setting them back down onto the counter when he froze as arms slipped around his waist, light but deliberate circling him from behind. Pond stilled. Every muscle in his body went rigid, his hand hovering above the counter.
Phuwin.
Phuwin’s cheek pressed into his back, warm, soft and far too close. His voice was muffled against Pond’s shirt when he whispered with that thin thread of weariness Pond could always hear.
“You sigh too much, Pond. You’ll get wrinkles before you turn 35.”
“Phuwin,” Pond spoke firmly, his tone leaving no room for mischief.
For a heartbeat, Phuwin didn’t move, his arms still locked around Pond’s waist. Then, with a soft sigh, he pulled back, letting the silence stretch. Pond finally turned, pressing a glass of water and the pills into Phuwin’s palm.
“Here.”
Phuwin leaned against the counter, his eyes heavy with something darker than fatigue. Pond, as always, made sure there was a safe distance between them after handing over the things. A line he never allowed crossed.
But Phuwin just stood there, unmoving.
“Phuwin, take it,” Pond said, voice steady.
Their eyes met.
“I don’t want to,” Phuwin murmured, slow and deliberate.
“Yes, you do,” Pond replied, softer this time but no less firm.
Phuwin laughed humorlessly, the sound scraping against Pond’s chest. Then, in one gulp he swallowed them all and set the empty glass down with a dull thud.
“Happy now?”
Pond didn’t answer. His gaze didn’t waver.
“Go freshen up and sleep. It was a busy day.”
Phuwin didn’t move. His head dipped, fingers twisting the rings on his hand like a restless child. Pond’s sigh filled the silence.
“Phuwin?”
Slowly, Phuwin raised his head, his voice barely a whisper but sharp enough to cut straight through Pond’s defenses.
“Does it kill you to hold me for once without thinking of your so-called duty?”
Pond’s fist clenched tight at his side. Their eyes locked in a fierce, unyielding stare. Neither blinked. Neither broke.
“You’re tired,” Pond said finally, his tone grave. “Let’s go.”
“You are just 5 years older to me and I’m not a child for you to treat me like one,” Phuwin shot back, his words trembling.
“You’re not,” Pond agreed, low and even. “That’s why I expect you to be reasonable.”
Phuwin laughed again, but this one was hollow, broken.
“Of course.”
He pushed himself off the counter and started toward his bedroom. Two steps in and he turned back, his voice slicing through the space between them. His lips curled in a bitter smile.
“Maybe you need me to completely vanish before you will finally look at me the way I want you to. But don’t worry I won’t vanish. Thanks to your medicines, of course. So, you are winning, Pond.”
Before Pond could respond, Phuwin disappeared into his room, leaving the silence behind like a wound. Pond stared at the retreating figure until the bedroom door shut, the echo of Phuwin’s words still cutting into his chest like glass. His fists were clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms, sharp enough to sting. He welcomed the pain as it was easier to hold onto than the ache crawling up his throat.
He leaned back against the cold kitchen wall, the silence of the condo pressing in from all sides. For a long moment, he just stood there, breathing hard and fighting against the storm clawing inside him. Then, slowly, he dragged both hands up and rubbed his face, as if he could erase the frustration, the guilt and the desperate urge he buried every single day.
Three years of guarding the popular superstar ‘Phuwin Tangsakyuen’. Three years of standing close enough to feel his warmth but never letting himself reach for it. And almost two years since that shift- that subtle and dangerous change in the way Phuwin looked at him, the way his touches lingered and the way his words carried something Pond wasn’t allowed to acknowledge.
Phuwin asked for it so relentlessly. Everyday. Not with anger, not with force but with those quiet pleas, those clumsy hugs and those soft words late at night when the world had finally stopped demanding a piece of him. He asked for something so simple- for Pond to hold him.
And every time Pond refused, every time he pulled away and hid behind the word duty, he saw the flicker in Phuwin’s eyes.
It shattered Pond. Every. Single. Time.
Pond’s head tipped back against the wall, eyes shut tight. He remembered the day he agreed to take this job and when he made the promise to Phuwin’s family to protect him from the world.
The rules had been laid out for him the day he signed on, as clear as the ink on the contract by Phuwin’s management.
Rule 1: Guarding Phuwin was always the first priority, everything else, even Pond’s own life, came second.
Rule 2: He was to be with Phuwin twenty-four hours a day, managing his schedule, his safety, his time and never letting him slip out of sight.
Rule 3: Pond could only take leave when Phuwin went home to his parents, and even then, only for a short while.
Rule 4: No emotional attachment with Phuwin. Not under any circumstance. He was to remain the shield, not a friend, not a confidant and certainly not anything more.
And Pond had always kept those rules. But somewhere along the way, even with his complete resistance, that last rule had started to crack, splintering every time Phuwin reached for him with those quiet and unguarded eyes.
For three years, he had stood like a shadow at Phuwin’s side, cutting off threats before they could reach him, taking every blow that tried to slip past the walls he built.
Physically, Phuwin had never been safer.
But deep down, Pond realizes where he was failing.
Because it wasn’t the world’s knives or the strangers’ greed that were killing Phuwin. It was his own mind crushing silence behind his smile. And Pond couldn’t fight those.
Couldn’t shield him from the invisible battles clawing him apart piece by piece. He knows Phuwin was already carrying too much. A cruel world that demanded his smile but never cared about his pain. A brain that never let him rest, turning on him when he needed comfort the most.
And Pond, he was supposed to be the shield. But instead, he became another wall. Another rejection. Another silent reminder that even the man standing beside him wouldn’t give him what he asked for.
He had seen it all, how Phuwin struggled with his own mind every single day. How he fought against the very medicines that kept him steady. Every night it was the same battle.
Phuwin’s stubborn voice, his soft defiance.
‘I don’t need medicines, Pond. I want someone to hold me. And I need you to want me in this tough world.’
Those words had always shattered him. Left him standing there with a lump in his throat so sharp he thought it might kill him. But he couldn’t give him that because he had no right. He couldn’t blur the line, not when his entire job was built on staying on the other side of it, just protecting Phuwin.
So, Pond stayed silent. Stayed cold. And kept putting the pills into Phuwin’s palm.
He knew the truth, even if Phuwin refused to see it. Without those medicines, Phuwin would have long slipped into a darkness no one could have pulled him from. Not his fans, not his family and not even Pond.
Phuwin had been struggling long before Pond ever stepped into his life as a bodyguard. The sleepless nights, the hollow smiles and the battles no one else could see- those had been eating away at him quietly, long before Pond stood at his side. It had taken Phuwin’s parents, his management, countless arguments and endless persuasion to finally convince him to accept help. And only last year, after years of resisting, Phuwin had finally said yes. But even now, there were days when he resisted and when he looked at Pond with that pleading gaze and said he didn’t need chemicals.
Pond swallowed hard, his chest burning. He always told himself it was only attachment, that Phuwin had grown used to leaning on him in the chaos of his world. He told himself to believe that it wasn’t real.
But deep down, when Phuwin’s words replayed in the silence of the night to him everyday, it broke him every single time. Pond’s fists tightened again, knuckles white. He wanted nothing more than to cross the line, to give in just once and hold him the way Phuwin always asks for. But he couldn’t. He wasn’t allowed.
Every part of him yearned for the boy- his touch, his smile and the way his presence made the world feel bearable. But wanting him and having him were two different things. His job, his duty, the very walls that trapped his life made Phuwin untouchable. Loving him wasn’t just dangerous - it was forbidden.
So, he stayed where he was- aching, breaking and drowning in everything he would never let himself say.
Pond’s legs moved until they lingered in the hallway of Phuwin’s bedroom longer than he should have, his fists loosening and tightening at his sides. The silence seeping from behind the closed bedroom door gnawed at him, heavier than any noise could. He hated himself for even hesitating in front of Phuwin’s room.
Slowly, carefully, Pond turned the knob and pushed the door open.
The room was dark, lit only by the sliver of city light sneaking in through the curtains. On the bed, Phuwin lay flat on his back, covers shoved aside, his forearm draped over his eyes as if to block out the world. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm, not the calm of sleep but the restless waves of someone too awake in his own head.
“Phuwin,” Pond called quietly.
No response. No movement.
Pond stepped closer, his footsteps nearly soundless on the carpet. With steady hands, he reached down and pulled the comforter up, tucking it gently over Phuwin’s frame. For a second, his hand lingered at the edge of the blanket, the urge to brush Phuwin’s hair back almost unbearable. But he stopped himself, retreating just enough to keep the distance.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” he said softly, his voice even but threaded with something he wouldn’t name.
“Try to sleep, Phuwin. You have an early morning fansign tomorrow.”
He straightened, stepping back toward the door.
“I’m in my room. Call me if you need anything.”
Pond had just turned to leave when something stopped him, a faint tug at his wrist. He froze, then slowly turned back. Phuwin’s fingers were wrapped around him, fragile but determined, his gaze locked on Pond’s face. His voice came out low, trembling and almost breaking.
“Do you think I’m crazy? Is that why you don’t want me?”
Pond’s chest tightened and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. Carefully, he bent down, unwrapping Phuwin’s fingers from his wrist one by one. He tucked the hand back under the comforter, pulling the blanket higher around him like armor he couldn’t give in person.
He looked at Phuwin then, really looked and the boy was already staring back at him, eyes glistening in the dim light, waiting for an answer that could shatter either of them.
“You’re not crazy, Phuwin,” Pond said quietly, each word carved from his chest.
“You’re very much normal. You’re just getting better. So, don’t think too much. Sleep.”
Phuwin let out a hollow little laugh, the sound so faint it barely reached Pond.
“Every day for two years you’ve avoided the topic. You’ve mastered it now, Pond.”
The accusation slipped between them like a blade, and Pond could only hold his ground, jaw clenched, heart breaking.
“Try to sleep,” he repeated, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I’ll wake you up tomorrow morning.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. With a quiet sigh, he slipped out of the room, leaving the door ajar by an inch, as if that sliver of space could bridge the distance, he never allowed himself to cross. For a long moment, Pond stood there outside the room, looking at the boy curled under the covers, his sunshine dimmed and fighting the battles Pond couldn’t fight for him.