Archive of Our Own ^beta

The scent of rain clung to the city, a cold, crisp air that seeped through the slightly cracked window of Pond's car. The outside world was a blur of neon signs and wet streets, but inside, it was a quiet, warm bubble. It was silent but for the soft swish of the windshield wipers and the even softer breathing of the boy sleeping in the passenger seat.

Phuwin had dozed off about twenty minutes into the drive home from a long university event. His head was tilted at an angle that looked uncomfortable, resting against the window. Pond had reached over gently, guiding his head to rest on his shoulder instead. Phuwin had mumbled something incoherent, nuzzled into the fabric of Pond's jacket, and sunk back into a deeper sleep.

Now, Pond drove with a hyper-awareness of the weight against his arm. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Phuwin's chest, a rhythm more calming than any music. He glanced down, his heart doing that familiar, silly little squeeze it always did when he looked at Phuwin like this—unguarded, peaceful, completely trusting.

Phuwin's long eyelashes fanned out over his cheeks. His lips were slightly parted, and a tiny, almost inaudible sigh escaped them every now and then. He looked younger in his sleep, all the sharp wit and playful mischief smoothed away, leaving only a profound softness.

Pond's thumb stroked idly over the steering wheel. He thought about the evening. About how Phuwin had been a whirlwind of energy, charming everyone, his laughter ringing out clear and bright. He'd been the last one helping to clean up, of course, because Phuwin never did anything by halves. The fatigue that had finally claimed him was well-earned.

A particularly deep pothole jolted the car, and Phuwin stirred. A small frown creased his brow. Without thinking, Pond lifted the hand not on the wheel and began to gently card his fingers through Phuwin's hair, scratching softly at his scalp the way he knew he liked.

"Shhh," Pond murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet car. "We're almost home."

Phuwin didn't open his eyes, but the frown smoothed away. He made a sleepy, happy hum and pressed his head further into Pond's touch. "P'Pond…" he breathed, the name barely a whisper, a ghost of a word meant only for the dark, safe space between them.

Pond's chest felt so full he thought it might burst. This was it. This was the feeling that no grand gesture or dramatic confession could ever truly capture. It was in these quiet, unscripted moments, with the weight of Phuwin's head on his shoulder, the trust of his sleeping form, the instinct to soothe without being asked.

He managed to park the car in their building's garage without fully waking Phuwin. He turned off the engine, and the sudden silence felt sacred. Pond sat for a moment, just watching him. The harsh fluorescent light of the garage wasn't kind, but it still couldn't diminish the fondness that bloomed in Pond's chest.

"Phuwin," he said softly, giving his shoulder a gentle shake. "We're home, sleepyhead."

Phuwin's eyes fluttered open, bleary and disoriented. He blinked up at Pond, and a slow, dazed smile spread across his face. It was a smile devoid of any pretence, a pure, reflexive reaction to seeing Pond first thing upon waking.

"Did I sleep the whole way?" Phuwin's voice was drowsy with sleep. He stretched out like a cat, his joints popping softly, before slumping back against the seat, his head finding its way back to Pond's shoulder as if pulled by a magnet.

"You did," Pond chuckled, wrapping an arm around him. "You snored a little, too."

That got Phuwin to lift his head, a look of mock outrage on his face. "I do not snore!"

"You do. It's very cute. Like a kitten." Pond grinned, dodging the half-hearted swat Phuwin aimed at his chest.

"Liar," Phuwin grumbled, but he was smiling again, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He leaned in, burying his face in the crook of Pond's neck. "Mmm. You're warm."

"And you're heavy," Pond retorted, but he held him tighter. "Come on, let's go upstairs. You can properly collapse on the bed."

Somehow, they untangled themselves and made their way to the elevator, then into their apartment. Phuwin moved on autopilot, kicking off his shoes by the door and heading straight for the bedroom, collapsing face-first onto the mattress with a groan.

Pond followed at a slower pace, putting away their things. When he entered the bedroom, Phuwin was still lying there, looking utterly spent.

"Hey," Pond said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed and running a hand down Phuwin's back. "You can't sleep like this. Come on, let's get cleaned up first."

A muffled protest came from the pillows. "Too tired."

"I know. A quick shower. It'll make you feel better, I promise." Pond's voice was gentle but firm. He tugged lightly on Phuwin's arm until he relented with a sigh, sitting up dazed.

Inside the bathroom, steam began to fog the mirrors as the warm water rained down. They moved in a sleepy, synchronised routine, undressing and stepping under the spray. Phuwin immediately leaned forward, resting his forehead against Pond's shoulder as the water soaked his hair and traced paths down his back.

Pond reached for the shampoo, working up a gentle lather in his hands before massaging it into Phuwin's scalp. His fingers were firm and methodical, easing the tension from the long day. Phuwin hummed in appreciation, muscles relaxing against the touch.

"See?" Pond whispered, his lips close to Phuwin's ear. "Already better."

Phuwin just nodded, tilting his head back to rinse. When he opened his eyes, they were clearer, a soft smile playing on his lips. He took the soap from the shower rack, his own movements slow and deliberate as he smoothed it over Pond's chest and shoulders. There were no words, only the quiet sound of water and breathing.

Pond cupped Phuwin's jaw, his thumb stroking over a wet cheekbone. He leaned in and pressed a soft, closed-mouth kiss to his lips. It wasn't demanding or passionate, just a tender affirmation. I'm here. You're here. We're home.

Phuwin kissed him back, just as softly, his hands coming to rest on Pond's waist. He pulled back only to place another light peck on the corner of Pond's mouth, then one on his chin, each one a tiny, silent thank you.

They dried each other off with the fluffy towels and shared warmth, leaving them feeling clean, drowsy, and utterly content. Slipping into soft sleep clothes, they finally made it to the bed.

The moment Pond settled, Phuwin immediately shifted, rolling over to slot himself against Pond's side, his damp hair cool against Pond's neck before it warmed. His arm draped across Pond's stomach, and he smelled faintly of their shared body wash and simple, clean comfort.

"Long day," Phuwin mumbled, his voice already thick with oncoming sleep.

"It was," Pond agreed, his hand tracing back to Phuwin's hair, smoothing its strands in soft rhythm. "But you were amazing. As always."

Phuwin didn't speak. He simply let out a long, satisfied sigh, his entire body going lax with trust and exhaustion. His breathing slowed once more, deep and even.

Pond lay awake a little longer, listening to that sound. The rain had started up again outside, a gentle patter against the window. But here, in their bed, it was dry and warm. He looked down at the mop of dark hair on his chest, felt the steady heartbeat against his side, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of Phuwin's head.

This was more than enough. This was everything. It was quiet and fluffy. The magic of being the one person Phuwin could fall asleep on. And as sleep finally began to claim him too, Pond thought that there was no place in the world he'd rather be.