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Pond wanted this role for months. Ever since Me and Thee had been announced, he’d read the original novel and then spent three consecutive nights talking Phuwin’s ear off about how much he wanted to play Khun Thee.
So naturally—Phuwin ended up auditioning too.
Not because he cared about the role or because he particularly wanted another acting project.
But because Pond had shown up to their apartment one evening holding the casting announcement and looking so excited that Phuwin had immediately agreed to try this project with him.
Now they were sitting outside the audition room. Pond, unable to sit still, was bouncing in his seat while Phuwin was scrolling through his phone, calm as ever.
"Pond, please, you are giving me motion sickness, and I'm sitting down."
"I can't help it, babe!" Pond whispered loudly. "It’s Me and Thee! Khun Thee is literally iconic. The brooding stares, the drama, the comedy—I was born to play this role. My aura screams dark underworld lord."
Phuwin raised an eyebrow, offering a dry, unamused side-eye. "Your aura right now screams 'golden retriever who just drank five espressos.' Sit down before you pass out."
"You're not matching my passion, Phu," Pond pouted, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Phuwin’s.
"Correct," Phuwin sighed, finally locking his phone screen and turning to look at his boyfriend. "I am only here because you really wanted to have this project, and I’m your partner, so I’m supposed to want it too. My life is hard, Naravit."
"You're going to be amazing as Peach," Pond beamed, his puppy-dog enthusiasm instantly returning in full force. "You're both pretty, stubborn, and adorable."
Before Phuwin could retort with a threat involving bodily harm, a production assistant called their names.
An hour later, they were back in their apartment living room, and the mood was vastly different.
Pond was sprawled face-down on the sofa, looking like a deflated balloon. His entire life’s purpose had been crushed into fine powder.
Phuwin stood nearby, scrolling through a text message from their manager, P’Ying, while trying to suppress a mix of guilt and sheer bewilderment.
"So Khun Thee didn’t think you could interpret him?"
"He said... he said I wasn't lean enough, Phu," Pond muffled into the sofa cushion, his voice thick with tragic despair. He rolled over onto his back, staring dramatically up at the ceiling. "Do you hear that? Not lean enough. After all those hours at the gym! And he said I have a face 'too kind to be a mafia lord.' He basically rejected me for looking like a baked potato with feelings!"
"You don't look like a baked potato, P'Pond," Phuwin said softly, walking over to the couch. He straddled Pond's hips, leaning down to pepper soft, comforting kisses across his forehead, his jawline, and finally lingering on his lips. "You look handsome. Khun Thee is just blind."
"He also said I didn't know how to hold a gun," Pond whimpered against Phuwin’s neck, wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend's waist. "He said I looked like I was holding a very dangerous banana."
Phuwin couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped him, though he quickly tried to mask it as a cough. "You are a talented actor and idol, baby; there are going to be other opportunities for you to channel your inner mafia. I’m sure of it."
Pond looked less defeated at those words because Phuwin’s approval mattered the most to him. He gave his boyfriend a small but sweet smile and kissed his lips. "Thank you, Phu. I love you."
"I love you too, my sulky baked potato."
"PHUWIN!"
A few days later, Pond was training all day with Jasp.er for an upcoming event the band had, while Phuwin was in the GMM building waiting for Fourth to finish up so they could grab lunch together, when P’Ying called him into her office.
"You wanted to see me?"
"Yes, Phuwin, it’s about the audition you and Pond had a couple of days ago," P’Ying said
calmly. "Khun Thee watched your audition tape, and he wants you. Specifically, you. He thinks you're the absolute spitting image of Peach—stubborn, adorable, and fierce."
Phuwin was quite shocked; he did not expect to have done so well to impress someone like the over-the-top mafia lord, but he had already made up his mind. "Phi, please, thank Khun Thee for the opportunity, but I’m going to refuse."
P’Ying looked over at the young man for a second. "Phuwin, are you sure? It’s an incredible offer both for the media exposure and for compensation."
"I have enough fame and money," Phuwin said firmly. "I am P'Pond's partner. If he doesn't get to play, I am not going to act with another man. Ever."
"I—oh. Wow. Okay, romance isn't dead," P’Ying muttered. "Let me call the production team back and break the news. I don’t want to be the one explaining this to the big boss, though."
Across the city, in a minimalist, glass-walled penthouse overlooking Bangkok, a very different conversation was taking place.
Khun Thee—actual mafia heir, executive producer of the upcoming series, and notoriously ruthless businessman—was currently pouting. It was a terrifying expression on a man who usually looked like he could execute a hostile takeover with a blank stare.
"What do you mean he declined?" Thee demanded, glaring at his phone. "He's perfect! He has the exact same sharp tongue and tiny waist as you! He would have been a phenomenal Peach!"
Across the room, lounging on a velvet chaise lounge with a cup of chamomile tea, was Peach—Thee’s husband, muse, and the literal inspiration for the character Phuwin had just rejected.
Peach looked up from his iPad, taking a slow sip of his tea. He kept his expression neutral at his husband’s word of praise to another man, though a microscopic twitch in his eyebrow betrayed him.
"You can find someone else to portray me, P’Kian. It’s not the end of the world; maybe the next actor will be even better than this... Phuwin."
"Just because his partner didn’t pass the audition!" Thee whined, instantly abandoning his intimidating aura as he scuttled over to the chaise, dropping heavily onto the floor next to Peach and resting his chin on his husband's knee. "But seriously, Peach! He looked so 'cute and adorable'! I wanted to squeeze his cheeks! How am I supposed to find someone else?"
Peach’s eyes narrowed. A sharp, icy spike of pure, unadulterated jealousy lanced through his chest. Cute and adorable? Did Thee just call another man cute? To his face?
Of course, Peach trusted his husband. He knew Thee was entirely, pathetically whipped for him. But hearing the word 'cute' leave Thee’s lips while describing a sharp-jawed, handsome young actor? Unacceptable. Absolutely, criminally unacceptable.
"You seem to like that actor far too much for my liking, P’Kian." Before Thee could open his mouth to profess his undying love for him, Peach continued, "But if you really want him to portray me, there is only one thing you can do."
"You are the only one for me, my life, you know that, but what can I do?"
"Call P’Ying back. Tell her that the tall, goofy boyfriend—Pond, right? Give him the part of Thee."
Thee blinked, sitting straight up. "What? Are you insane? He doesn't know how to hold a gun! He looks like a golden retriever!"
"A very handsome golden retriever," Peach smiled sweetly, his eyes gleaming with calculated mischief. "If he plays Thee, Phuwin will play Peach, and everyone will be happy. And besides..." Peach leaned in close, whispering conspiratorially, "I want to audition him myself. Privately. I think he has potential."
Thee’s jaw dropped. "Privately? You want to be alone in a room with that tall, broad-shouldered, overly enthusiastic specimen of a man?"
"Why, Kian?" Peach raised an eyebrow, a dangerous challenge in his tone. "Don't you trust your husband?"
Thee swallowed hard, beads of sweat suddenly forming on his forehead. "Of course I do. I am completely whipped. Do whatever you want, my love."
Pond was practically hyperventilating when the notification popped up on his phone.
“Private meeting with Khun Peach regarding Me and Thee casting reconsideration. Tomorrow, 2:00 PM at the private studio.”
"PHUWIN!" Pond shrieked, sprinting out of the kitchen with a half-eaten piece of toast in his hand. "Phuwin, look! Look at this!"
Phuwin, who was peacefully folding laundry on the sofa, took the phone and read the screen. His eyes widened slightly, followed immediately by a sharp, lethal narrowing of his pupils.
"A private meeting?" Phuwin’s voice dropped an octave, turning icy. "With Peach? Just the two of you?"
"I know!" Pond beamed, completely oblivious to the sudden drop in temperature in the room.
"Can you believe it? Khun Peach is a legend! Have you seen his photography portfolio? The lighting? The composition? And he’s so stunning, like an actual porcelain doll carved by angels—"
Phuwin slowly stopped folding a T-shirt. His hands clenched the fabric so tightly his knuckles turned white. "An angel. Right."
"And he wants to see me! Personally!" Pond continued, doing a little victory dance around the coffee table. "Maybe he saw my hidden depths! Maybe he realized I have the brooding soul of an anti-hero trapped beneath this gorgeous, approachable exterior!"
Phuwin looked at the happiness radiating from his boyfriend’s body and decided to swallow his jealousy. "I’m really happy for you, Pond. I know how much you wanted this."
Pond stopped and sat next to his boyfriend, hugging him tightly. "I couldn’t have had this without you refusing the offer from Khun Thee, Phu. I’m sure they are recasting me just because they wanted the great Phuwin Tang acting in their series."
Phuwin warmed himself into his embrace. "You are going to do great, baby. And you are going to tell me everything that happened from your encounter with Khun Peach, okay?"
The next afternoon, Pond found himself standing inside a dimly lit, beautifully appointed private studio space. The walls were lined with breathtaking black-and-white photography, and standing in the center of the room, leaning against a vintage leather armchair with a camera in his hands, was Peach.
In person, Peach was even more striking than he appeared on screen. His features were sharp and flawless, but he had a more approachable demeanor than his husband. After he noticed him, he stepped forward, giving Pond a handshake. "Khun Pond, thank you for accepting to meet with me."
"Khun, it’s my pleasure. I’m a big fan of your projects."
They spent two hours together, running through lines, trying out unscripted improvisations, and sharing stories. And when Pond actually relaxed a little, Peach began to notice it—not quite Thee, of course, but something remarkably close that had real potential on screen.
When the meeting drew to a close, Peach offered a knowing smile. "I’ve come to a decision."
Pond snapped upright in his chair, muscles instantly rigid. "You have?"
"Yes." Peach reached out, extending a hand across the desk. "See you on set."
Pond froze, his brain stalling completely. "Pardon?"
"The role is yours."
For several seconds, Pond lost the ability to form words. "Me? Truly?"
Peach let out a light, genuine laugh. "Truly. You have the same taste for drama as my husband; I do not know how he couldn’t see it."
"Thank you for the second chance, Khun. I won’t let you or Khun Thee down, I promise."
Pond practically flew home. He didn't even wait for the elevator; he took the stairs two at a time, bursting through the apartment door with enough force to rattle the hinges.
"PHUWIN!" Pond shrieked, slamming the door shut behind him.
Phuwin, who was sitting cross-legged on the sofa with a mug of tea, blinked in surprise as
Pond launched himself across the room, scooping him up in a tight, dizzying spin that nearly sent the tea flying.
"Put me down, you absolute lunatic!" Phuwin laughed, though he couldn't stop the grin breaking across his face as Pond finally set him back down on his feet, keeping his hands firmly planted on Phuwin’s waist.
"I got it!" Pond beamed, his eyes practically sparkling with triumph. "I got the part! I’m going to be Thee! We're official co-stars!"
Phuwin’s breath hitched, a genuine wave of relief and pride washing over him. He reached up, cupping Pond’s jaw and pulling him down for a hard, breathless kiss that tasted of pure victory. "You got it," Phuwin whispered against his lips, smiling softly. "I knew you would."
"And guess what else?" Pond continued, practically vibrating out of his skin as he pulled back just enough to look into Phuwin’s eyes. "Khun Peach is going to be on set with us! Full-time! He said he needs to oversee his husband, but honestly? Getting to work with a legendary photographer and creative mind like Peach every day is going to be incredible. He’s so smart, honestly, just the coolest person—"
Phuwin’s smile froze.
The glowing, starry-eyed praise hung in the air like a sudden thunderstorm. Slowly, Phuwin’s hands dropped from Pond’s jaw. His expression shifted from fond affection to a terrifying, deadpan glare, his eyes narrowing into razor-sharp slits.
"Oh?" Phuwin’s voice dropped an octave, turning frosty enough to freeze boiling water. "Is that so? Stunning? The coolest person?"
Pond, still riding the high of his victory, blinked cluelessly. "Yeah! He’s amazing, babe. You'll love him when you—"
"I am thrilled for you, P'Pond," Phuwin interrupted, his tone dripping with enough sarcasm to corrode metal. He shoved lightly against Pond's chest, stepping out of his grip and crossing his arms. "Truly. Why don't you just pack your bags and move into Khun Peach's private studio since you're clearly so enchanted by his stunning photography and cool demeanor?"
Pond blinked again, his brain finally attempting to process the sudden drop in temperature.
He looked at Phuwin’s stiff posture, the tight clench of his jaw, and the way his eyes were burning a hole right through Pond’s forehead.
A slow, booming realization dawned on Pond’s face, followed immediately by a massive, teasing grin.
"Wait a minute," Pond whispered, taking a step forward. "Are you... are you doing what I think you're doing?"
"I am doing nothing," Phuwin snapped, turning his back and marching toward the kitchen. "I am going to get a glass of water. Because listening to you simp for another man is making me thirsty."
"You're jealous!" Pond crowed, darting after him like an overgrown golden retriever and wrapping his arms tightly around Phuwin’s waist from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. "Oh, my god, my fierce, unbothered boyfriend is actually, genuinely jealous of Khun Peach!"
"I am not jealous, Naravit; let go of me before I step on your toes," Phuwin hissed, though he wasn't actually trying to pull away.
"You totally are!" Pond laughed, pressing a loud, wet kiss to Phuwin’s cheek. "You're green! You're practically glowing with jealousy! You think Khun Peach is going to steal your man!"
"Nobody is stealing anyone," Phuwin grumbled, finally letting out a defeated sigh as he leaned back against Pond's chest. He turned his head just enough to glare half-heartedly at him. "It's just irritating that you spent ten minutes praising another man's beauty right to my face."
Pond’s expression softened, the teasing light in his eyes melting into deep, overflowing adoration. He turned Phuwin around in his arms, wrapping both hands around his waist and looking down into his face with a warmth that could melt glaciers.
"Babe," Pond murmured softly, his voice dropping to a tender hum. "You know there is literally zero competition, right? Khun Peach is cool, sure. But I am completely, irrevocably, pathetically in love with the most gorgeous, talented, amazing man in the entire entertainment industry. And he happens to be standing right here."
Phuwin felt a hot flush of pink race up his neck and dust his cheeks. He tried to maintain his stern glare, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, twitching upward into a reluctant, fond smile.
"You're disgusting," Phuwin muttered, though his hands came up to rest on Pond's chest, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.
"I know," Pond beamed, leaning down to press his forehead against Phuwin’s. "And you love it. Now, come on, let's celebrate. You're going to be Peach, I'm going to be Thee, and we're going to be dramatic on national television."
Phuwin let out a soft laugh, pulling Pond down for another kiss. "God help us both."
Meanwhile, clear across the city in their mansion, a very different couple was reviewing the final casting sheets.
Khun Thee was pacing back and forth across the polished concrete floor, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his brow furrowed in a deep, habitual scowl.
"I still don't understand why he has to be Thee," Thee grumbled for what had to be the fifth time that hour, glancing toward the sofa. "He doesn't know how to hold a gun, Peach! What if he shoots a crew member? What if he trips over a cable and ruins my multi-million-dollar action sequence?"
Peach was stretched comfortably across the velvet chaise lounge, scrolling lazily through his iPad with the sort of serene confidence that only irritated his husband further. He didn't even bother looking up.
"He'll be fine, Thee. I put him through a rigorous evaluation, and unlike some people I know, he actually listens when I give directions."
Thee huffed."That's not reassuring."
"It should be."
"It isn't."
Peach chuckled under his breath.
With a defeated sigh, Thee abandoned his pacing and crossed the room, dropping dramatically onto his knees beside the chaise. He rested both arms across Peach's lap before looking up at him, all traces of the intimidating mafia boss gone. Instead, there was only his husband—earnest, slightly embarrassed, and hopelessly in love.
"I'm not actually worried about the action scenes," Thee admitted quietly, his voice softening.
"I just... didn't like the thought of another man standing that close to you. Watching you work. Hearing him compliment you." He smiled sheepishly. "It made me irrationally restless."
Peach's teasing expression melted immediately into something impossibly gentle. He set the iPad aside and cupped Thee's face with both hands, his thumbs brushing lovingly across his cheekbones.
"Oh, my foolish husband," Peach murmured fondly. "Look at me, P'Kian."
Thee met his eyes without hesitation.
"You never have to be jealous," Peach said softly. "No matter who I work with or who admires me, my heart has belonged to you since the day we met. You are my home. Nobody else could ever compare."
Thee closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting out a slow, relieved breath before leaning into Peach's touch with a smile.
"I love you, Peach. So much it terrifies me sometimes."
"I love you too, P'Kian," Peach whispered before leaning down to capture his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. "Always."
When they finally pulled apart, Thee stayed resting against Peach for another moment before a mischievous grin slowly spread across his face.
"... You know," he said casually, "that's a very beautiful speech."
Peach smiled. "It was heartfelt."
"It was."
A pause.
"So..."
Peach narrowed his eyes immediately.
Thee's grin widened. "I assume I'll be hearing you repeat that exact speech to yourself every morning while filming?"
Peach blinked. "... What?"
Thee couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped him. "You spent an entire week glaring every time someone mentioned his name."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did." Thee laughed harder, wrapping his arms around Peach's waist before Peach could protest further. "My love," he teased, looking up with unmistakable amusement, "for someone who keeps telling me not to be jealous... you weren't exactly thrilled when you found out Phuwin would interpret you."
Peach's ears turned the faintest shade of pink. "I... do not enjoy hearing you call another person 'cute' or 'adorable'."
Thee leaned forward and kissed the corner of Peach's mouth. "I promise on my life I’m never referring to anyone that isn’t my beautiful Lookpeach with any terms of endearment, not even tiny puppies."
Peach sighed dramatically. "I married a menace."
"You married a handsome philanthropist; you should be jealous."
Peach gave him an offended look before breaking into helpless laughter anyway. "I still trust you completely," Peach admitted, resting his forehead against Thee's. "I just didn't particularly enjoy imagining someone else getting to look at you all day."
Thee's expression softened instantly. "Neither did I."
"I know."
"I guess we're equally hopeless."
Peach smiled warmly. "Hopelessly in love."
"Exactly."
They stayed wrapped around each other for another long, peaceful moment, smiling against one another as the last of the day's tension quietly slipped away.
Eventually, the soft chime of the grandfather clock echoed through the hallway.
Peach pulled back with a fond smile, straightening Thee's slightly wrinkled collar. "Come on," he whispered, offering his hand. "It's getting late. Let's go check on the kids before bed."
Thee slipped his hand into Peach's, intertwining their fingers as they walked together down the softly lit hallway toward the children's bedroom.
Pushing open the door to Marn and Mork's room, they found both fast asleep. Marn had somehow managed to sprawl diagonally across the mattress with one leg dangling over the edge, her bear loosely clutched in one hand. Mork was curled into a tight little ball beneath an enormous mountain of dinosaur blankets, quietly snoring.
Peach stepped inside first, carefully lifting Marn’s leg back onto the bed before pulling the duvet over her. He brushed Mork's unruly hair away from his forehead and pressed a gentle kiss to each of his children’s foreheads.
Thee quietly wrapped his arms around Peach from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder as they watched them sleep. A deep, quiet tenderness settled across his features.
"They grow up too fast," Thee whispered against Peach's neck.
"They do," Peach replied softly, leaning back into him and covering Thee's hand with his own. "Good thing we still have each other to enjoy every second of it."
With one last affectionate glance toward their sleeping children, they quietly closed the bedroom door and walked hand in hand toward their own room, ready for whatever chaos the upcoming television production—and the actors playing younger versions of themselves—would inevitably bring.