My Big Man Baby

Gawin

The days felt lighter now. Gawin had always prided himself on being the steady one, the one who could hold things together, but there was something about the way things were slowly falling into place that gave him a sense of peace. 

Thanat was still on his journey to recovery, but there was progress. Little by little, Thanat had begun to open up, both to his family and to himself. Gawin could see it in the way Thanat's eyes weren't as dull as they had been, how his posture had started to straighten, how he allowed the warmth of those around him to touch him, instead of shutting it all out. It wasn't an easy process, and there were still moments when the weight of his depression was hard to bear, but Gawin could see the shift. It was small, but it was there. And that was enough for now.

More importantly, he could see the difference in Ohm. There was a lightness about him lately, a calmness in his step, as if the burden he'd been carrying—of worrying about Thanat, of balancing everything—had eased. And it wasn't just that. It was them—Gawin and Ohm. The space between them had filled with something richer, more grounded. There were no dramatic confessions, no big moments of clarity. But in the way they interacted, in the quiet, unspoken understanding between them, it was obvious: they were growing closer, steadily and naturally.

Gawin had been hesitant at first, unsure if he wanted to risk complicating things with Ohm. But now, with every passing day, he realized that it was never really a risk—it was just... right. They didn't have to define it, didn't have to give it a name or rush into anything. They simply were, and that felt enough. More than enough.

One afternoon, after a particularly long day of filming, Gawin found himself waiting for Ohm outside the set. It had become a small ritual for them now—Ohm would let him know when he was about to wrap up, and Gawin would come by, sometimes with coffee or just to hang out for a bit. It wasn't much, but it was the kind of thing that made Gawin feel like there was something real happening between them.

As the crew began to pack up, Gawin leaned against the wall, hands shoved into his pockets. He wasn't in a hurry. He'd learned to enjoy the quiet moments, the stillness between them that didn't need to be filled with words. When Ohm finally walked out, his hair tousled and a smile on his face, Gawin's chest warmed. It was a smile that felt easy, natural. Not forced, not masking anything.

"Long day?" Gawin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you have no idea," Ohm replied, laughing lightly as he walked up to him. "But hey, I'm glad it's over. Finally get to relax for a bit."

Gawin grinned, pushing himself off the wall. "Good thing I'm here to help you relax then."

Ohm gave him a side-eye but didn't argue, and Gawin's heart skipped a beat when Ohm's hand brushed against and held onto his as they walked. It was so subtle, but it felt like everything—like they were building something with each passing second, each shared look, each casual touch. The simplicity of it was what made it so perfect.

As they reached the car, Gawin stopped for a moment, turning to face Ohm. The city lights glowed softly in the background, casting a faint warmth over the scene. He wanted to say something—something about how things felt different now, about how he couldn't imagine his days without Ohm in them—but he didn't need to. The way Ohm looked at him, the way their shoulders brushed as they stood together, said it all.

"I'm really glad we're doing this," Gawin finally said, his voice quieter than usual.

Ohm smiled, his eyes soft. "Me too. I'm glad we're doing this too."

The drive home was peaceful, the kind of silence that didn't feel uncomfortable but filled with everything they had yet to say. When they reached Gawin's place, the air between them felt thick, charged. Ohm's hand lingered on Gawin's arm for just a second longer than usual, as if giving him a silent invitation to close the gap between them. Gawin could feel the weight of the moment settling over them both, the tension palpable but somehow right.

Ohm leaned in first, his lips brushing the corner of Gawin's mouth—just a soft, fleeting touch, but enough to make Gawin's pulse quicken, enough to send a warmth pooling in his chest. It was like the touch sparked something in him, a wave of longing that he could no longer suppress. He hadn't expected to feel this, not like this. But as Ohm pulled back slightly, eyes locking with his, Gawin realized just how much he wanted more. He wanted the closeness. He wanted the intensity of it.

He didn't hesitate this time.

Gawin leaned in, his lips capturing Ohm's with an urgency that surprised them both. His hand moved instinctively, cupping Ohm's face, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer as if he couldn't bear the distance between them. The kiss deepened almost immediately, a hungry surge of feeling, of everything they hadn't said out loud until now. There was no shyness, no uncertainty in the way they moved. It was raw, real, and undeniably there.

The world around them seemed to fade, the hum of the city distant and irrelevant. All that mattered was the press of Ohm's body against his, the warmth of his lips, the soft exhale of breath between them. Gawin's heart hammered in his chest, and he could feel the intensity of his own desire building, swirling in his stomach. This was no longer about just being close to Ohm—it was about needing him, about feeling the pull between them, the undeniable connection that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to catch his breath, his forehead resting against Ohm's. Their breaths were mingling now, both of them a little unsteady. Gawin's hands still rested on Ohm's body, his fingers tracing light patterns along his sides. The touch was soft, almost reverent, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of him, to imprint this moment into his mind.

Ohm's eyes were darker now, the playful glint replaced with something more intense, more serious. He met Gawin's gaze, his voice a low murmur as he spoke, "You don't have to stop, you know."

Gawin felt the words resonate deep in his chest. He hadn't realized how much he needed that reassurance, the confirmation that they were both in this—whatever this was, growing between them.

"I don't want to stop," Gawin replied, his voice rougher than usual, thick with desire. His lips brushed Ohm's again, a gentle press, before he pulled back just far enough to look into his eyes. "But I want you to be sure. I don't want to rush this."

There was a flicker of something in Ohm's eyes—something that mirrored the same urgency, the same need that was coiling inside of Gawin. And then Ohm nodded, a slow, deliberate movement, his hand coming up to rest on Gawin's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his palm. "I'm sure," Ohm whispered, and it was all Gawin needed to hear.

Without another word, they both leaned in again, the kiss deepening as their bodies pressed closer together. Gawin could feel the heat between them intensifying, their bodies reacting in sync, as if they had always been meant to move together like this. His hands moved to Ohm's back, pulling him even closer, feeling the strength in the way Ohm responded, his hands sliding up to Gawin's neck, fingers threading into his hair. It was a dance they'd only just begun, but Gawin felt like he could stay lost in it forever.

The kiss grew more passionate, the rhythm of it matching the rising tide of emotions they couldn't quite name yet. There was an electric charge in the air, the kind that made Gawin's skin feel alive, every touch sending sparks to places he didn't even know existed. He could feel the vulnerability in the moment, the trust that had been built over time, and he couldn't help but respond to it with everything he had.

When they finally pulled apart again, both of them breathless, Gawin's hands rested gently on Ohm's shoulders, his thumbs tracing slow circles. He looked at him, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath, and there was a smile tugging at his lips, something soft, something real.

"Are you sure?" Gawin asked, his voice quiet, but there was no doubt in his tone. Only the quiet strength of knowing that what they had was something worth taking the time to explore.

Ohm's smile matched his, and he didn't need to say anything. The look in his eyes said it all—the connection between them was there, undeniable, and it was just beginning.

"Yeah," Ohm replied, his voice steady, his hand resting over Gawin's heart. "I'm sure."

And with that, the world outside no longer mattered. It was just the two of them, standing in the quiet warmth of Gawin's apartment, hearts racing, bodies still pressed close. They were moving forward, slowly, but with no intention of turning back. The passion that had simmered between them was now undeniable, and Gawin felt his heart swell with the certainty that whatever came next, they would face it together.