❌️❌️ Lhong is a good one. There are no incidents of Tan or any other happening . I know it is a bad guy in series! But I may crazy but I can understand that guy. But still, there is no way we can justify his act in the series. I just came up with this ship. If you don't like this, just don't read.❌️❌️

NO ONE POV :

Tharn had never expected to find himself at Lhong's bar that night. He and Type had plans, but Type had canceled last minute because of a family emergency. So, instead of heading home, Tharn stopped by the small, cozy bar where Lhong performed.

It was late, the crowd had thinned out, and Tharn found Lhong sitting alone at the bar counter, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of him. His usual confident aura was missing-he looked... lost.

"Drinking alone? That's not like you," Tharn said, sliding onto the stool next to him.

Lhong chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Maybe I'm just in the mood to be pathetic tonight."

Tharn frowned. Lhong was always the strong one, always the friend who laughed the loudest and gave the best advice. Seeing him like this was unsettling.

"Come on, what's wrong?"

Lhong took another sip, his eyes slightly hazy from the alcohol. "You, Tharn," he whispered. "You're what's wrong."

Tharn stilled. "What?"

Lhong laughed, the sound empty. "I'm such an idiot, aren't I? Loving someone who never even noticed me. Always being the 'best friend,' always standing on the sidelines while you love someone else."

Tharn's heart clenched. He never-he never thought-

Before he could say anything, Lhong's eyes fluttered shut, and he slumped forward. Tharn barely caught him in time.

"Damn it, Lhong..." He sighed, lifting his friend up and taking him to his room upstairs.

---

The next morning, Lhong woke up to a pounding headache and Tharn sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him.

"You're awake," Tharn said quietly.

Lhong rubbed his temples, groaning. "Shit... how much did I drink?"

"Enough to confess to me," Tharn said bluntly.

Lhong froze. His heartbeat stuttered.

Tharn continued, "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

Lhong exhaled shakily, sitting up. "Because you were happy with Type. Because it wasn't supposed to matter. Because I knew I could never be what you wanted."

Tharn didn't know how to respond. He should feel guilty, but a part of him wondered-had he really been so blind all these years?

From that day, things changed. Lhong started avoiding him, putting up walls, pretending that night never happened. But Tharn couldn't pretend. Every time he saw Lhong smile, he heard the pain in his drunken words. Every time they played music together, he thought about the unspoken emotions hidden in Lhong's lyrics.

And then there was Type. Their relationship had always been passionate, but it was also exhausting. The fights, the jealousy, the misunderstandings-it all felt heavier now. The more Tharn thought about it, the more he realized that what he had with Type was intense, but it wasn't peaceful. It wasn't home.

And maybe, just maybe... Lhong was.

---

It happened one evening after another fight. Type accused Tharn of being distant, of not looking at him the same way anymore.

"You're thinking about someone else," Type said, his voice bitter.

Tharn hesitated. Lying felt wrong.

"I don't know," he admitted.

That was enough. Type scoffed, shaking his head. "Then we're done."

There was no screaming, no grand exit-just silence. The kind that meant this time, it's really over.

And instead of feeling shattered, Tharn felt... relieved.

---

For a while, Tharn didn't go looking for Lhong. He needed time to figure things out, to be sure of what he felt.

But when he finally did go back to the bar, Lhong was on stage, singing a song that sounded heartbreakingly familiar.

It was theirs. " HOLD ME TIGHT "

" Even if the world fades away, I'll stay here by your side No more hiding, no more pain, just let our hearts collide If this is love, then let me drown, don't pull away tonight Just hold me tight, hold me tight... and never say goodbye. "

The song they wrote together years ago.

When the performance ended, Tharn approached him. "You still play our song," he said.

Lhong shrugged, playing it cool. "It's a good song."

Tharn smiled, sitting beside him at the piano. "Yeah. But I think we should write a new one."

Lhong turned to him, confusion in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Tharn exhaled, fingers pressing the keys lightly. "I mean... I think I was always looking in the wrong place."

Lhong swallowed hard. "Tharn-"

"Let me try," Tharn said softly. "Let me see if I can love you the way you've always loved me."

Lhong's breath hitched. He had spent years burying his feelings, years believing that Tharn would never see him that way. But now, Tharn was looking at him-really looking at him.

"You don't have to answer now," Tharn added, giving him an easy smile. "Just... let's take it slow."

For the first time in a long time, Lhong let himself hope.

"Okay," he whispered.

---

Their relationship wasn't rushed. It wasn't fireworks or dramatic confessions. It was something quieter, something built from years of trust and understanding.

Tharn would come to the bar more often, not just to watch Lhong sing, but to be with him. They'd write music together, go on small trips, share inside jokes. And slowly, Tharn realized-Lhong had always been the one who understood him best.

One night, as they sat by the rooftop, sharing a bottle of beer, Tharn turned to Lhong and said, "I think I love you."

Lhong chuckled, nudging him. "Took you long enough."

And this time, they both knew it was real.

---

Tharn never thought waking up could feel this peaceful.

The morning sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Lhong was still asleep, his face buried against Tharn's chest, arms lazily draped around his waist. His slow, steady breaths tickled Tharn's skin.

Tharn smiled, pressing a gentle kiss on Lhong's forehead. He traced his fingers through Lhong's hair, watching as the man stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent before snuggling closer.

"Wake up, lazy," Tharn whispered, amused.

Lhong groaned. "Five more minutes."

"You said that ten minutes ago."

"Then five more minutes after that," Lhong murmured, tilting his head up to nuzzle against Tharn's neck. "You're warm."

Tharn chuckled. "And you're clingy."

"You love it."

"I do," Tharn admitted, pressing a kiss to Lhong's lips. It was slow and sweet, the kind that made Lhong hum in satisfaction.

Lhong finally opened his eyes, sleep still lingering in them. "Good morning."

"Good morning," Tharn echoed, stroking Lhong's cheek.

Neither of them made a move to get up. There was no rush, no urgency-just the quiet comfort of being together.

---

The city lights flickered through the window as they lay on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms. The movie they had put on was long forgotten, replaced by quiet whispers and soft laughter.

Lhong leaned against Tharn's chest, fingers tracing lazy circles on his arm. "You never used to be this affectionate," he teased.

Tharn smirked, tightening his arms around Lhong's waist. "You never let me before."

Lhong huffed, but the way he melted into Tharn's embrace betrayed him.

After a while, Tharn shifted, pressing a kiss to the back of Lhong's neck. "Let's go to bed."

Lhong sighed dramatically. "You just want to cuddle me to sleep again."

"Obviously."

Lhong turned in Tharn's arms, wrapping his arms around Tharn's neck. "Then carry me."

Tharn raised an eyebrow. "You have legs."

"But you love me."

Tharn laughed but still lifted Lhong effortlessly, carrying him to their bedroom. He set Lhong down on the bed, leaning over him with a soft smile. "Happy now?"

Lhong pulled him down for a kiss, slow and lingering. "Always."

As they settled under the covers, Lhong curled up against Tharn's chest, his hands resting on Tharn's back. Tharn kissed his temple, whispering, "Goodnight."

Lhong yawned, already half-asleep. "Goodnight, Tharn."

And with their hearts at peace, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in warmth and love.

---

The End.

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Hope you like this chapter.

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