Work Text:
10:42 PM – Peat
Peat wasn’t looking for pain.
It found him anyway.
He had been scrolling through Instagram, half-distracted, trying to focus on anything that wasn’t Fort.
It had been weeks—months, maybe—since they last spoke. It's not like they hadn’t literally, but no words spoken outside of schedule. They met, always did their on-screen couple work and left. On most days Fort would leave before Peat could even change his clothes.
Since Peat last pushed Fort away, telling himself it was for the best, Fort had never called him or texted him. He opened his chats everyday expecting to get something, even a funny reel shared by him would give him some peace. He was still his pinned chat on every social media, but his walls would not let Fort know it. At Least not yet.
Then he saw it.
A video. A reel. Fort had uploaded some 20 minutes ago.
Fort sitting in a dimly lit room, a guitar in his lap, his head tilted down as he sang.
"I wish I sent you that drunk text at midnight..."
Peat’s fingers tightened around his phone.
He tapped the volume up. Fort’s voice—low, raw, aching—poured through his speakers.
"I was just scared it would ruin our friendship
But I really meant it
I wonder how you would reply."
His breath caught. His chest ached like someone had pierced a dagger straight into his heart.
Then he saw the caption.
"Sometimes one-sided love is so hard. I wish I could un-love you.”
His Heart dropped.
His vision blurred for a second, the weight of those words pressing down on him. Tears fight to kiss his cheeks anytime.
One-sided love?
No.
No, No, No, it wasn’t one-sided. It never had been.
But Fort didn’t know that.
Because Peat had never let him. He had never told him how Fort was on his mind since he first laid his eyes on the young man in the morning of their audition. His name card was named Fort , a unique name. He had tried to search his IG, but didn't find it though. It was full of accounts who posted castles from different countries.
But fate had another plan, during the evening audition they were paired up. Fort had come close to him and touched his cheek gently. His heart fluttered, his stomach had butterflies, no actual zoo was inside him.
But now? He had ruined his chance in love.
A sharp ache bloomed in his chest. It hurt. More than it should. More than he wanted to admit.
He had spent so long convincing himself that pushing Fort away was the right thing to do. That if he never let himself fall too deep, it wouldn’t hurt when Fort finally left.
But Fort never left.
It was Peat who kept running.
The memories hit all at once.
It was raining.
Not a soft drizzle—the kind of storm that made the city feel smaller, the streets quieter, the world a little lonelier .
Peat sat by his apartment window, watching the rain blur the city lights, his mind restless. He had been ignoring Fort’s texts all day, knowing the other man would eventually show up.
And Fort did.
Peat heard the knock before he even turned around. A steady, familiar rhythm.
Three knocks. A pause. One more.
He squeezed his eyes shut. He should pretend he wasn’t home. Should wait until Fort got tired of waiting.
But he couldn’t. He never could.
With a deep breath, Peat stood and opened the door.
Fort was standing there, hair damp from the rain, a small frown tugging at his lips. He was holding a plastic bag.
“Did you eat?” Fort asked, stepping inside before Peat could tell him not to.
Peat exhaled sharply, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not hungry.”
Fort ignored him, placing the bag on the counter. “You say that, but you never actually eat when you’re stressed.”
Peat clenched his jaw. “I’m not stressed.”
Fort just gave him a knowing look. “Then why have you been avoiding me all day?”
Peat’s chest tightened. He looked away.
“I haven’t.”
“P’Peat.” Fort’s voice was softer now. Closer.
Peat didn’t move when he felt Fort’s fingers brush against his wrist, hesitant but warm.
“I just…” Peat swallowed. “I needed space.”
A beat of silence. Then—
“From me?”
Peat’s breath hitched. He forced himself to meet Fort’s gaze. The hurt there was barely hidden, but Fort—being Fort—still gave him an out.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Fort said, voice steady but laced with something heavier. “But I need to know. Am I pushing too hard? Or are you just scared?”
Peat’s heart pounded.
Scared.
The word settled into his chest like a weight.
He was scared.
Of how much he wanted Fort.
Of how easy it would be to let himself fall.
Of how much it would hurt when Fort eventually realized that Peat wasn’t worth the trouble.
So instead of answering, Peat did what he always did.
He pushed Fort away.
“Does it matter?” he muttered, taking a step back. He crossed his arms, forcing his voice to stay cold. “You and I… it’s not what you think, Fort. We’re just friends.”
The words felt like glass in his throat.
Fort stared at him for a long time. Too long. Like he was trying to see past the walls Peat had built around himself.
Then—very slowly—Fort let out a quiet chuckle.
But it wasn’t amused.
It was tired. It was a deep sigh.
“Right,” Fort murmured, running a hand through his rain-damp hair. He stepped back, putting distance between them. “Just friends.”
Peat’s stomach twisted. He wanted to take it back. To reach out. To fix this.
But he didn’t.
And Fort didn’t wait for him to.
“Eat something,” Fort said, nodding towards the food on the counter he had brought and placed it through all these interactions. His voice was calm. Too calm. “I’ll see you later, P’Peat.”
And just like that, he was gone.
Peat stood there, staring at the door, heart hammering against his ribs.
He told himself he had done the right thing. That this was safer.
Then why did it feel like he had just lost something he could never get back?
*******
The heat on set was unbearable. Bright lights, long hours, endless takes—it was one of those days where exhaustion settled deep into Peat’s bones.
He had been sprawled out in a chair, mindlessly scrolling through his phone during a break, when he sighed, more to himself than anyone else—
"Damn, I could really go for that coconut ice cream right now."
It was a passing thought. Something he hadn’t expected anyone to hear, let alone remember.
But Fort had.
Which was why, two hours later, Fort appeared in front of him, grinning, holding a cup of coconut ice cream with a tiny spoon.
“Here.” Fort pushed it toward him. “You wanted this, right?”
Peat blinked. His fingers twitched at his sides.
“You—” He swallowed, staring at the cup in Fort’s hand. “Where did you even get that?”
Fort shrugged, still grinning like it was no big deal. “Found a place nearby. Thought you’d want it.”
The words were simple, casual.
But Peat’s chest tightened.
Because this wasn’t just about ice cream.
It never was, with Fort.
Fort had always been like this—thoughtful, attentive, the kind of person who listened even when Peat thought no one was paying attention.
And that scared him.
Because Peat knew, deep down, that Fort would always show up for him.
Would always try.
And Peat?
Peat was the one who could never let himself have something so good.
Because if he did—if he let himself keep Fort—what would happen when Fort finally realized Peat wasn’t worth it?
His heartbeat pounded in his ears. The air felt too thick, too much.
So he did the only thing he knew how to do.
He ruined it.
“I don’t want it.”
Fort’s smile faltered, just slightly. “Huh?”
“I said, I don’t want it.” Peat forced his voice to stay indifferent, distant. “You didn’t have to go out of your way for something so stupid.”
It wasn’t stupid.
It was the sweetest thing anyone had done for him in a long time.
But Fort didn’t know that.
Because Peat didn’t let him know.
For a moment, Fort just stood there. He wasn’t smiling anymore.
“Oh.” His voice was quieter now. “Okay.”
Peat could see it—the brief flicker of hurt in Fort’s eyes before he masked it with a small nod, like he was telling himself it wasn’t a big deal.
But it was.
It always was.
Fort set the ice cream down on the table beside them. “In case you change your mind.” His voice was light, but Peat could hear the strain underneath.
Then, without another word, he turned and walked away.
Peat watched him go, his chest aching in a way he didn’t know how to fix.
He wanted to call out to him. To tell him the truth. That he did want the ice cream. That he did want Fort.
That he was just scared.
But the words never came.
And by the time Peat finally looked down at the cup of ice cream, the icecream had already started to melt. It was beyond repair now, just like their relation maybe.
******
Fort’s lips hovering over his, so close Peat could feel his breath.
"Tell me to stop."
Peat had hesitated. For just a second.
Then he turned away.
"This... we shouldn’t."
He had felt Fort stiffen, the warmth between them vanishing.
"It doesn’t mean anything," Peat had forced himself to say, even as his heart screamed that it was a lie.
Fort had stepped back, his voice quieter than Peat had ever heard it.
"It doesn’t?"
Peat hadn’t answered.
Because he had been terrified of the truth.
And now, watching this video, hearing Fort’s voice crack on the lyrics, knowing that Fort thought it had all been one-sided—
God.
Something in Peat shattered.
His hands were shaking. His chest felt too tight, like something inside him was caving in.
Fort was moving on.
Of course he was. Peat had pushed him away enough times, built walls high enough that even Fort—stubborn, persistent Fort—had finally stopped trying to climb them.
But if that was true, then why did this song sound like heartbreak?
Why did Fort still sound hurt?
Why did this feel like Peat was losing something he never had the courage to hold onto?
His breath was ragged. He ran a hand over his face, trying to clear his thoughts, but nothing helped.
The ache didn’t go away.
The guilt didn’t go away.
The love didn’t go away.
Because that’s what it was.
Love.
He had spent so long pretending it wasn’t. Convincing himself that what he felt for Fort was temporary, something fleeting, something easy to ignore.
But it wasn’t.
It was deep. It was terrifying. It was everything Peat had tried to escape.
And now, he was about to lose it.
No—he had already lost it.
Because Fort had given up.
Because Fort had been singing about him, and Peat had been too much of a coward to ever let Fort know he felt the same.
A sharp, desperate kind of panic settled into his bones.
He grabbed his phone before he could think.
Then he did something he never thought he would.
He called Fort.
---
11:47 PM – Fort
Fort isn’t sure how many drinks he’s had.
Not enough to forget. But just enough to let his fingers hover over Peat’s name on his phone.
The words sit unsent on the screen, blurry at the edges from the alcohol clouding his vision.
I still love you.
He exhales, laughing bitterly to himself.
He won’t send it. He never does.
Because Peat doesn’t want to hear it.
Not now. Not ever.
Fort knows that. He’s always known that.
Peat had made it clear—every single time Fort had tried to love him, tried to hold on.
Like that night at Peat’s apartment, when Fort had pinned him against the kitchen counter, their bodies close, his lips a second away from Peat’s.
"Tell me to stop," Fort had whispered.
Peat hadn’t.
Not at first.
For one, agonizing second, Peat had just looked at him.
Like he wanted this. Like he wanted Fort.
But then—
"This... we shouldn’t."
The words had stung. But not as much as what came next.
"It doesn’t mean anything."
That had hurt. That had really hurt.
Because for Fort, it meant everything.
Now, sitting alone in his apartment with an almost-empty bottle of whiskey beside him, he wonders why he keeps doing this to himself.
Why he keeps hoping.
Peat is probably fine. Probably moving on. Probably doing whatever he does when he decides to push Fort out of his life.
And yet, here Fort is.
Drowning in whiskey and memories, still waiting for a sign that Peat might be missing him, too.
His fingers twitch over the keyboard again.
I miss you.
But before he can press send, his phone vibrates.
His breath catches.
He stares at the screen, heart pounding.
P’Peat.
His name flashes across the screen like something out of a dream.
Or a nightmare.
Fort hesitates. His thumb hovers over the answer button.
Maybe he shouldn’t pick up. Maybe he should let Peat feel what it’s like to wait.
But Fort has never been able to ignore Peat.
So he answers.
“P’Peat?”
Silence. A shaky breath.
Then—
“I miss you.”
Fort’s fingers tighten around the phone. His chest clenches.
He swallows. “Are you drunk?”
A soft, bitter laugh. “A little.” Then, quieter, “But I’d say it even if I wasn’t.”
Fort closes his eyes. He wants to believe him. He really does.
But Peat has hurt him too many times.
He exhales. Keeps his voice steady. “Then say it in the morning.”
There’s silence.
Then—
“Okay.”
It’s quiet. But it’s a promise.
And for the first time in a long time, Fort lets himself believe?
Fort stared at his phone.
The call had been real. Peat had actually called. Actually said I miss you .
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. His heart was still racing.
Then the doorbell rang.
Fort frowned. It was almost midnight. Who the hell—
His stomach dropped.
No way.
He hurried to the door and swung it open.
And there he was.
Peat.
Soaked in sweat, chest rising and falling like he had just run a marathon. His hair was damp, strands sticking to his forehead. His white t-shirt clung to his skin, his face flushed.
Fort blinked. “Did you—” He squinted, taking in Peat’s state. “Did you run here?”
Peat was still catching his breath, hands on his knees, looking like he might collapse any second.
“We… live… five kilometers apart,” Fort added, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you insane?”
Peat groaned, straightening up. “I—” He inhaled sharply. “—couldn’t wait. And I was drunk so obviously couldn’t drive myself."
"You couldn’t get a grab?"
"Oh! I couldn't think straight."
Fort’s stomach did something weird.
He crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe, pretending his heart wasn’t hammering in his chest. “Wait for what?”
Peat looked at him.
And then—
Silence.
A long, painfully awkward silence.
Because now that Peat was here , standing in front of Fort’s house in the middle of the night, dripping sweat and breathing hard—
He had no idea what to say.
And Fort?
Fort wasn’t helping.
He was just staring at him, eyes unreadable, waiting.
Peat licked his lips, shifting on his feet. “I… uh…” He cleared his throat. “I saw your video.”
Fort blinked. “What video?”
“The one where you were singing Drunk Text .” Peat’s voice was quieter now, like he was almost embarrassed to admit it.
Realization dawned on Fort’s face. “Oh.” He let out a small, awkward laugh. “That.”
“Yeah.” Peat swallowed. “It… It made me—”
He stopped, suddenly very aware of how stupid he must look right now.
He had run here. Five kilometers. At night. Because of a song.
What the hell was he thinking?
He shifted again, scratching the back of his neck. “This was probably a bad idea.”
Fort tilted his head. “You think?”
Peat winced. “I just… I needed to see you.”
Another pause.
Fort exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know.”
Fort sighed. Then, before Peat could react, he grabbed Peat’s wrist and pulled him inside.
“Come on,” Fort muttered, dragging him toward the couch. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
Peat let himself be pulled, his heart pounding. “I—”
“Sit,” Fort ordered, pushing him down.
Peat sat.
Fort disappeared into the kitchen. A minute later, he returned with a cold bottle of water and shoved it into Peat’s hands.
Peat took it. “Thanks.”
Fort flopped onto the couch next to him, rubbing his face. “So. You ran five kilometers just to tell me you saw my video?”
Peat hesitated. “...Yes?”
Fort side-eyed him. “Liar.”
Peat groaned, leaning back against the couch. “This is so awkward.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
Silence stretched between them again.
Peat tapped his fingers against the water bottle. “I really did miss you.”
Fort turned to look at him, something unreadable in his expression.
And then—
“…You stink.”
Peat choked. “What?”
Fort wrinkled his nose. “You ran five kilometers, P'Peat. You reek .”
Peat groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “Oh my god.”
Fort chuckled, shaking his head. But when Peat peeked at him through his fingers, he saw something else in Fort’s expression.
Something soft .
Peat stiffened as Fort suddenly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.
His body was still overheated from the run, and Fort’s warmth only made it worse.
“Fort,” Peat muttered against his shoulder. “I stink . You just said that.”
Fort huffed a quiet laugh but didn’t let go. Instead, he buried his face against Peat’s neck, squeezing him tighter.
“Do you really think I care?”
Peat’s breath hitched.
Because Fort sounded… different.
Softer.
Like he had been waiting for this moment for a long, long time.
Peat swallowed hard. His hands hovered awkwardly before finally settling against Fort’s back, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
They stayed like that—pressed together, the silence thick between them, the sound of their uneven breathing the only thing filling the room.
Then—
“I was scared.”
The words came out before Peat could stop them.
Fort didn’t move. Didn’t pull away. Just waited.
Peat closed his eyes. He knew if he didn’t say it now, he never would.
“I kept pushing you away because I was scared,” Peat admitted, voice hoarse. “Scared of how much I—” His fingers curled against Fort’s back. “Scared of this .”
Fort finally pulled back just enough to look at him, their faces inches apart. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes —held something deep, something raw.
“P'Peat…” Fort whispered.
Peat inhaled shakily, forcing himself to meet his gaze. “I thought it’d be easier if I just ignored it. If I kept telling myself we were just friends, that you’d get tired of me eventually.” He let out a broken chuckle. “But you never did. You never stopped .”
Fort reached up, cupping Peat’s jaw with one hand, his thumb tracing lightly over his cheek. “You idiot,” he murmured. “You think I’d ever get tired of you?”
Peat’s heart pounded.
Fort’s touch was gentle, grounding. And for the first time, Peat didn’t flinch away from it.
“I didn’t want to lose you,” Peat whispered. “But I think I almost did.”
Fort let out a slow breath. “Yeah,” he admitted. “You almost did.”
Peat’s chest ached. “I’m sorry.”
Fort tilted his head, studying him. Then, with a small smirk, he said, “Make it up to me.”
Peat blinked. “Huh?”
“Since you finally stopped running, you can start making it up to me.” Fort’s fingers brushed against Peat’s cheek again, softer this time. “Starting with this.”
And then—before Peat could say anything else—
Fort leaned in.
And kissed him.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t desperate.
It was slow, steady, full of everything they hadn’t said before.
They had kissed hundreds of times before for work but this was new, this was different because this was special their first kiss.
Peat melted into it, his fingers tightening around Fort’s shirt, pulling him closer. The ache in his chest shifted into something warmer, something terrifyingly real.
When they finally pulled apart, Peat was breathless.
Fort rested their foreheads together, his voice barely above a whisper.
“No more running.”
Peat exhaled, nodding.
“No more running.”
Peat felt his heart beating in rhythm with Fort’s, as if their pulses had somehow found a way to sync up in the quiet, intimate space between them. His fingers slowly slid to Fort's chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric of his shirt. The kiss had left him dizzy, but it was the kind of dizzy that made him feel alive, as if the weight of everything he had been hiding had been lifted in one perfect moment.
Fort pulled back just a little, his face still hovering near Peat’s, his breath warm against his lips. He studied him, his gaze soft, tender, like Peat was the most precious thing in the world.
“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” Fort whispered, voice low but thick with emotion. “I’ve been waiting for you to let me in, Peat. Waiting for you to see me.”
Peat’s breath caught in his throat. His chest tightened, not with anxiety this time, but with the realization that the distance he had built between them was nothing compared to the closeness he now felt, the closeness he wanted.
“I was so scared, Fort,” Peat admitted, his voice barely more than a breath. “Scared that I wasn’t enough for you. That you’d see the mess I am and leave.” His hand drifted to Fort’s shoulder, fingers tracing the lines of his muscle. “But you’re still here.”
Fort’s smile was small, but it made Peat feel like he could breathe again. “I’m not going anywhere, P'Peat. I’ve never planned on leaving. I’m here for the long haul, no matter how much you push me away.”
The sincerity in Fort’s words made Peat’s heart ache in a way that was almost overwhelming. He had been so used to keeping everyone at arm’s length, so used to being afraid of something real, but now…
Now, the fear was slipping away.
Fort’s thumb brushed over his lower lip, gently, almost reverently. “You’re everything I want, P’Peat. All those walls you’ve built? I’ve never cared about them. I only care about you. The real you.”
Peat’s breath faltered. His hands reached up, his fingers lightly brushing against Fort’s jaw. “I don’t know how to be anything else but scared,” he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But with you... it’s different. I think you’re the only one who can make me want to try.”
Fort’s expression softened further, his eyes shining with something warm, something full of love. “Then try with me. Take this chance with me, P'Peat. I’m not asking for anything perfect—I’m asking for the Imperfect you.”
Peat’s heart swelled at the words. The vulnerability in them, the raw honesty—it was everything he had been afraid of, and yet, it was the only thing that felt real. Felt complete.
With a deep breath, Peat closed the small distance between them once more, pressing his lips gently to Fort’s, letting the kiss speak the words his heart could barely form.
Fort’s arms wrapped around him again, pulling him in tightly as if he never wanted to let go. And Peat let him. Let himself be wrapped up in the warmth, in the love, in everything he had been too scared to accept until now.
“I’m here,” Peat whispered between kisses, his fingers tangled in Fort’s hair. “I’m really here, Fort.”
And Fort’s smile, as he pulled back just enough to look into Peat’s eyes, was the most beautiful thing Peat had ever seen.
“I know,” he said softly, his thumb gently stroking the side of Peat’s face. “And that’s all I’ve ever needed.”
With those simple words, Peat’s world shifted—he was no longer running from love, from Fort. He had finally found his place. His home.
The kiss lingered, soft and lingering, as if neither of them wanted to break the moment. Peat felt like he was floating, held in the safety of Fort's arms, surrounded by the warmth of everything unspoken between them. It was as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them—no more running, no more walls.
Fort pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against Peat's. His breath was steady now, but Peat could feel the tremor of emotion beneath the calm exterior.
"Are you sure?" Fort's voice was low, almost tentative, as if he were asking for permission, not just about what they’d shared, but about everything between them. "You’re not just doing this because you feel like you have to, right?"
Peat blinked, feeling the raw honesty in Fort’s words. He could feel his heart beating in his throat, but this time, it wasn’t fear—it was something else. Something warm, something real.
“No,” Peat whispered, his hand brushing along Fort's jaw, the words barely more than a breath. “I’m sure.”
Fort closed his eyes at that, a faint smile pulling at his lips. "God, P’Peat..." His voice was thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this for so long. I never thought you’d let me in."
Peat felt a pang in his chest at the vulnerability in Fort's words. He had pushed him away for so long, afraid of being too much, afraid of falling too deep. But now, hearing Fort’s raw confession, he realized that he’d been the one holding himself back. Not Fort.
“I was scared,” Peat admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared that I wasn’t enough for you. That you’d see me as... broken. But you still stayed. And that... that means more than I can ever say.”
Fort cupped his face, his eyes intense, full of something Peat couldn’t name. “You don’t have to be anything else, P’Peat. You’re perfect the way you are. I never wanted you to be something you’re not. I wanted you to be you. You who belong to me.”
Tears welled up in Peat's eyes, not from sadness, but from a deep, aching relief. It was like the weight of years of holding back had finally broken, and now, in this moment, he could just be himself.
Fort’s thumb brushed gently under Peat's eye, wiping away a stray tear. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Peat swallowed hard, his chest full of emotions he wasn’t sure how to express. But Fort didn’t need words. His presence was enough—his warmth, his patience, the way he made Peat feel like he was worth everything he had been too afraid to believe.
Fort’s lips met his again, softer this time, with no rush, no pressure—just a gentle affirmation of everything they were beginning to build.
Slowly, Fort pulled him closer, his hands tracing tender circles on Peat's back, as if grounding him, reminding him that this was real. That they were real.
“I’ve waited for you to let me in,” Fort murmured against his lips. “But now that you’re here, now that we’re here—everything feels right. I don’t need anything more than this, P’Peat. Just you.”
Peat melted into his embrace, resting his head against Fort's chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was like a lullaby, calming the storm inside him. He could feel the warmth of Fort’s body, the comfort of knowing he was no longer alone.
“I think I’ve always needed you. Everyday at work the first thing I would look for was you. If you weren’t there I would always ask staff about your whereabouts” Peat whispered, his voice shaking with the depth of what he was finally ready to admit. “But I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t know how to let myself need someone... until now.”
Fort’s arms tightened around him, holding him close, like he was afraid Peat might slip away if he let go. “You’re everything to me, P’Peat. Don’t ever doubt that.”
The words wrapped around Peat like a blanket, and for the first time in so long, he felt at peace. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. It was just the two of them, tangled in the quiet intimacy of their shared vulnerability, their hearts beating in sync.
And as they lay there together, just holding each other, Peat realized that sometimes, the most beautiful intimacy wasn’t in the grand gestures or words—it was in these quiet moments, when two people truly saw each other for who they were, without fear, without hesitation.
And for once, Peat didn’t have to hide. He didn’t have to run.
He had finally found his home.
The soft light of morning filtered through the window, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. Peat stirred slowly, his body still heavy with the remnants of sleep, but a sense of peace settled over him. His eyelids fluttered open, and he blinked against the sunlight, trying to adjust to the soft quiet of the morning.
He shifted slightly, feeling the comforting weight of an arm draped over his waist. The familiar scent of Fort’s cologne, mixed with the softness of his skin, was like a grounding anchor. For a moment, Peat was disoriented—half-dreaming, half-awake—but then it hit him.
The night before wasn’t a dream.
The kiss. The words. The raw, vulnerable confessions they’d shared.
It was all real.
He turned his head slowly, and there, in the dim light of the early morning, was Fort. His face was relaxed in sleep, eyes closed, mouth slightly parted in peacefulness. His hair was mussed from the night, and the warmth of his body pressed against Peat’s felt like a living, breathing reminder of everything they had just begun.
Peat’s heart fluttered in his chest. He lifted a hand, brushing a lock of Fort’s hair away from his forehead. His fingertips grazed the soft skin of his face, and a strange, tender smile tugged at Peat’s lips.
He couldn’t quite believe it.
They were here. Together. In this shared space, in this shared moment.
He had never allowed himself to hope for something like this, never allowed himself to imagine a reality where it was possible. But now, as he lay next to Fort, he couldn’t deny it anymore.
This was real.
Fort stirred slightly, groaning in his sleep, his arm tightening instinctively around Peat’s waist, pulling him closer. Peat let out a soft laugh, his heart swelling with warmth.
When Fort’s eyes slowly fluttered open, he blinked a few times, disoriented, before he caught sight of Peat beside him. His lips curved into a lazy smile, and he blinked again, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing either.
“Morning,” Fort murmured, his voice still husky with sleep.
Peat smiled back, his chest full of emotions he wasn’t sure how to express. “Morning,” he whispered softly.
There was a moment of silence between them, one that felt like the world was holding its breath. Peat’s heart ached with a quiet, soft longing as he gazed at Fort—like he wanted to say a thousand things but couldn’t find the words.
Fort reached up, brushing a thumb over Peat’s cheek with a tenderness that made Peat’s breath catch in his throat. “Is this real?” Fort asked, his voice quieter now, almost like he was asking himself as much as he was asking Peat.
Peat’s heart skipped a beat.
“I think we’re past the point of wondering that,” Peat said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “This is real, Fort. All of it. Us. Here.”
Fort’s smile softened, his eyes shining with something Peat couldn’t quite name. He leaned in, brushing his lips gently against Peat’s forehead. “I still can’t believe you’re really here with me. After all the times I tried to get through to you, after everything… I never thought you’d feel the same.”
Peat’s chest tightened. He reached out, cupping Fort’s face gently in his hands, pulling him closer. “I was scared. But I’m not scared anymore.”
Fort’s expression softened, and he pressed a soft kiss to Peat’s lips, just a gentle, lingering touch that spoke volumes. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Peat’s heart fluttered, and he felt his eyes sting with the sudden rush of emotion. The ache he had carried for so long seemed to melt away in that one simple moment.
Fort was here. He was real. And Peat wasn’t alone anymore.
He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over Fort’s jaw. “Thank you,” he whispered. “For waiting. For being patient with me.”
Fort chuckled quietly, his fingers gently tracing along Peat’s arm. “There was never any doubt, P'Peat. I wasn’t going to give up on you.”
Peat closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the warmth of the moment, the feel of Fort’s presence beside him. This wasn’t a dream. It was real, everything he had ever wanted was right here in this room, in Fort’s arms.
Fort kissed him again, this time more deeply, like he was telling Peat everything he had been holding back. And Peat kissed him back, with the same longing, the same love, the same quiet certainty.
I love you P'Peat
I Love you too.