Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One april morning in the year of 1912, the sun shone bright and clear in the Southampton bay area.

The sky was very blue. A good omen. It held the promise of a smooth sailing journey and a cool, gentle wind carried the smells of coal and the sounds of seagulls.

The White Star Line dock was busy and noisy with the movements of hundreds of workers—dirty from coal, pushing large boxes onto the ship. Their grunts mixed with the sounds of metal cranes and loud shouts. Wagons full of luggage rolled by on the rough ground.

Above it all, the huge ship—the RMS Titanic, shined with new paint. Its four tall smokestacks already sent out thin lines of smoke into the clear sky. The dockside in Southampton was a lively, bustling scene.

William stood in line at the pier, taking lungfuls of the smoky salty sea air and sighing with glee. He’d arrive with his few belongings—a battered suitcase and a case containing his precious guitar strapped over his shoulder— amidst a haze of hundreds of other hopeful immigrants, all speaking a babel of languages.

The sheer scale of the ship was awe inspiring, yet also intimidating. It would be taking the lot of them to the city of New York.

William endured the long, slow moving queues. Lower Class passengers had to undergo basic health inspections to ensure they weren't carrying infectious diseases that could spread to others, particularly the more affluent passengers. He carried his little luggage with his guitar case strapped around his back as he boarded the boat, ignoring the gruff porters who treated all third class luggage as cargo.

Once aboard, he found his way to the general room, pushing his way through the relatively cramped, though clean, corridors leading to his shared cabin. He felt a sense of relief. Relief at finally being on board after a long, arduous journey to the port, and awe at the colossal size of the vessel.

Amidst the chatter of the vast, anonymous group, he felt an immediate sense of belonging. One with these group of diverse strangers, all sharing a common hope for a better future.

He entered his cabin and glanced at the strong looking built men sitting on the bunks.

“Hello! I’m William.” He beamed at his would be roommate, reaching out a hand to a young man, probably in his early thirties, a cigar wrapped around his bearded lips.

The man shook his hand firmly, cigar at the corner of his lips. “I’m Tui. You must be the guitarist. These are Nut, Hong, and Lego. We’re orchestra musicians.” He gestured to the other men sat on the tiny beds in the cramped space. They all exchanged handshakes at the introduction.

They were a traveling band of musicians going on a mini tour around the United States. New York was their next stop but they’d taken on a gig to entertain the elite passengers in the first class Grand Dining Saloon.

“You’re the voice that’s been making waves downtown.” Nut called out in his deep, throaty voice. “Can’t wait to see if you’re the real deal.”

William gave them a wide, toothed grin. “Well…I hope I don’t disappoint.”

He'd felt the ship's immense power, a slight vibration underfoot, and the distant hum of the engines. The air in his section of the ship was slightly stuffy, carrying the scent of new wood and damp clothes. A mix of immense relief and profound awe washed over him.

He felt the weight of his dreams for a new life, a fresh start where his music could truly flourish, intertwine with a quiet sense of adventure and perhaps a touch of trepidation about the unknown.

He laid on the top bunk that was to be his comfort for the next week, smiling bright eyed at the ceiling.

~~~

Later that evening, at the Port of Cherbourg France, Est—a former athlete and heir to Thai Chao Phraya Mills, a vast rice milling and export empire— stood at the pier, staring across at the Mammoth of a ship, anchored a distance away.

He’d arrived by private train to the Cherbourg pier, where he stood by while his personal valets handled his extensive luggage.

He took in breathfuls of the salty air, trying to soothe his pacing heart. For Est, water had always been his comfort, his safe space.

But today these waters— this vast ocean— would be taking him to a tragic, miserable future. One with an arranged marriage and the burden of a major Thai conglomerate placed on his shoulders.

He’d found an escape in swimming, made a name for himself in the athletic field, made his family proud winning Gold at the ripe age of twenty. He’d had a bright future as an athlete.

But the waves came crashing with a tragic accident, a dear friend lost and a career ending injury.

And now that burden— the one he’d thought he could escape, it came back to haunt him.

His father had given him time to heal, time to grieve. Then he’d gone back to school for his post graduate studies. It was a grace period for him, the last dregs of freedom he could have before his life practically ended.

That's what this journey felt like to him— The end of his life. Alive but not human. Not living. Not free.

“You look like you’ve seen the grim reaper.” A soft voice spoke, her accent fainter from all her years abroad. “Cheer up!” She cooed, her lips curling into a smile, even though it didn’t meet her eyes.

Est looked down at his older, fair skinned sister who would be accompanying him on this trip. Along with their mother— who was currently busy giving instructions to the staff.

They’d been sent here as his guide, to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. To make sure he didn’t get away. He didn’t say anything, just returned his eyes gloomily to the ship.

Earna grabbed his hand with her small palms, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Est looked down again. She swept her gaze through his face, eyes bright with encouragement. “You can do this.” She said. “I know you think this is the end of the world for you but you can shape your own destiny Est. You’re stronger than you know.”

Earna’s story wasn’t much different from his. Her path had also been carved out for her. She’d been married off to a wealthy statesman, a marital bond to strengthen business ties and fuel power.

But over the years, she had fallen madly in love with her husband, and now they had a toddler back home waiting for her.

And in her small glassy eyes, Est could see she hope it would be the same for him. Maybe not love, but some form of happiness or even contentment he could shape out with the woman— Mary— who was waiting for him.

He knew that would not be the case for him. He knew it too well. He gave her a small smile and quickly blinked away his melancholy, squeezing her hand back.

His mother skittered forward, her high pitched voice calling out. “Alright! Alright. It’s time to leave. Est darling, are we ready?”

“Hmmm.” He nodded quietly at his mother’s question and took the first step on the ferry that would take him to a dark, inevitable future.

When he boarded the vessel, he ascended a wide, carpeted gangway directly onto the First Class reception area on the A-Deck, greeted by smiling stewards and the hushed elegance of the ship's interior.

There were no queues, no inspections, just swift, respectful service.

Est parted with his family and was escorted to his lavish private suite, a spacious cabin with fine wood paneling and comfortable furnishings. His luggage was already in his room, meticulously placed.

He quickly undressed and headed into the washroom to bathe and get dressed for dinner. After his hot shower, he dressed slowly in front of the mirror. The dark, tailored suit settled on his tall, lean body, its hue a stark contrast to his fair skin.

His eyes still held a weariness he could not conceal and his face was upturned in a frown. He tried forcing a smile and failed miserably. His mother had always scolded him about his expressive, subtltled face. It was second nature to him at this point, a habit he could never kill.

He sighed loudly before exiting his suite and heading downstairs for dinner.

The grand dining saloon was a very fancy room with rich wooden walls and shining crystal lights. White tablecloths covered every table, set with sparkling glasses and silver. A small orchestra played soft, elegant music.

Over the course of the night, the space became filled with the scent of an array of dishes, expensive cigars, fresh flowers, and the distinct and powerful perfumes of the guests.

The soft hum of the ship's machinery was barely discernible, now replaced by the loud murmur of boastful gossip and the distant strains of string quartets.

The guests chatted and laughed— talking about money, fashion, and quiet gossip about others.

Est sat with his mother and sister amidst other guests, trying to pay attention to his surroundings. He offered forced, polite smiles and nodded subconsciously at questions, his usually sharp mind adrift.

The weight of his impending marriage and the future of the family business pressed down on him like a clamp, compressing and unyielding.

Slowly, the familiar, formal melodies of the orchestra faded, soon replaced by the warm, resonant pluck of a guitar. A familiar yet unfamiliar rhythm filled the room pulling Est out of his wandering thoughts.

A boy—younger than him—sat on the platform, at the far end of the saloon, dressed in a simple dress shirt and dark tailored pants with suspenders.

His face was finely sculpted, with youthful yet intense eyes, and his dark hair fell in loose, messy waves across his face.

His fingers strummed the guitar strings so naturally—like his arm was an extension of the instrument itself— and a subtle, almost imperceptible smile played on his lips as he lost himself in the acoustic notes. He began to sing, and the gentle, lilting notes of "Moonlight Bay" filled the space.

🎶By the light of the moon, by the light of the moon, Oh, take me back to the place that I knew…🎶

His voice was not loud, but it carried an unexpected depth, a heartfelt tenderness that cut through the polite hum of elite chatter and silenced them with its magic. It wasn't the polished, formal delivery of the orchestra— it was raw, earnest, and infused with a quiet, undeniable longing.

Est felt an invisible thread tug at his weary attention. The frown on his face softened, almost imperceptibly, as his gaze drew to the distant singer.

His burden of polished facade and familial duty seemed to lessen, replaced for a precious few moments by the simple, aching beauty of a song about a moonlit stroll and a whispered promise. He just listened, lost as something new, something warm grew in him.

William was focused entirely on his guitar strings, his fingers dancing across them with a practiced grace, while he effortlessly captured the crowd with his music.

All eyes were on him, a sea of admiring faces, but one seemed to burn into him with a singular intensity.

He met Est's gaze across the polished room, and for a brief, breathless moment, held it— a look of quiet intrigue etched on his face, before he looked down at his guitar again, his lips curling into a private, knowing smile as the notes of the song blended into the perfumed air.

The song ended in a too short moment, earning applause from the crowd. The boy bowed before stepping off the platform— Est's eyes following him until he disappeared into a corner.

Est lay in bed that night, unable to find sleep. His mind replayed the scene over and over in his head and he could not get the boy with the guitar out of his head.

He wondered who he was? What his life was like?

The intense and overpowering soul in his voice— conveying feelings of fondness, romance, and a gentle wistfulness for bygone days—made Est wonder.

Had he lost somebody? A lover? A friend?

He eventually turned off his light and went to bed.

The morning after hearing William sing, Est woke to another day of tiring luxury.

He started with a leisurely breakfast with his family in the first class dining room, leafing through his old copy of The Art of War by Sun Tzu, but that offered little of interest.

After that, he moved to the swimming pool, a marvel of engineering, and swam a few laps in the heated saltwater, but the the familiar rhythm of his strokes couldn't quiet his mind.

He dressed for a stroll on the First Class deck, nodding to fellow socialites, forcing small talk about the delightful weather or the impressive speed of the ship.

He spent an hour in the reading and writing room, pretending to compose letters while gazing out at the endless grey-blue sea, wishing for something, anything, truly new.

Lunch was another drawn out affair, followed by an attempt to read a novel in the lounge, but the words blurred, and he found himself staring into space.

The card games in the smoking room held no appeal either, and the thought of another formal dinner filled him with dread.

By late afternoon, a profound boredom, heavier than any family obligation, settled over him. His privileged world felt like a beautiful, suffocating prison.

That evening, dinner felt slow and tedious. His only hope for reprieve was hearing the fine tunes from the intriguing, mysterious singer who’d somehow carved his way into his head and would not leave.

But the boy did not come to play.

Est waited, patiently.

He waited until he began to lose his patience, until his leg shook in anticipation.

But he didn’t come.

He subtly scanned the room, looking for any signs of him around but he did not find any.

After clearing his plate, he politely excused himself from the table— earning a questionable look from Earna, one he ignored.

Est discreetly approached a junior steward. "The singer from last night…" Est began, trying to sound casual. "The one who played the guitar. Where might one find him?" His voice was low, his posture straight. Inconspicuous.

The steward, flustered by a first class passenger's asking about a lower class performer, stammered. "Oh, sir, he's... he's typically in the general room, sir, for the Third Class passengers. Or with the crew." His tone suggested this was highly improper.

Est's mind raced.

He knew the general room was off limits, but the thought of that voice, that raw emotion, ate at him. He needed to hear it again, to find that unexpected feeling that had broken through his weariness.

Later that night, when most elite passengers had retired to sleep, Est sought out a bribable crew member.

"I need something." Est whispered, pressing a few coins into the man's hand. "Something plain. Clothes. Something that won't draw attention on the lower decks."

Within the hour, Est stood in his cabin, facing a mirror. Gone was his usual tailored suit. In its place was a rough shapeless shirt, baggy trousers, and worn boots. The fabric felt coarse against his skin, alien and oddly liberating. He pulled a cap low over his face, hiding his finely sculpted features.

Taking a deep breath, his heart thumping with a mix of fear and excitement, Est slipped out of his suite, ready to step into a world he had only ever imagined, driven by the compelling memory of that singer’s voice.

He knew this was risky, even foolish, but the thought of the boy’s music was a pull he couldn't resist.

The Third Class general room was a swirl of noise and movement. Feet stomped on the wooden floor, laughing voices rose and fell, and the air hummed with raw energy.

William stood on a makeshift stage, strummed his guitar, his voice soaring over the clapping and cheering. A wide, genuine smile lit his face as he watched the crowd dance, completely lost in the rhythm.

It was in moments like this—holding his guitar and sharing his music— that's when he was truly free and utterly, wholeheartedly happy.

People danced loudly and shouted praise, their shadows jumping on the walls as the ship rocked. The atmosphere was thick with the scent of cheap beer and sweat, a stark contrast to the perfumed, polished air Est usually breathed.

He pushed through the mass of bodies with awkward stiffness, his broad shoulders and tall frame seeming to absorb the light rather than blend into it.

While his borrowed, shabby clothes was meant to make him inconspicuous, they only seemed to hang on him strangely, emphasizing his discomfort. He held himself too rigidly, his head held a fraction too high, his eyes wide and darting, not truly seeing the faces around him. He stood out like a sore thumb.

William finished the last verse of the lively ballad, then, with a confident grin, silenced his guitar. The music didn't stop though. He launched into the chorus in acappella, his voice a powerful, rhythmic pulse.

🎶Oh, a cannonball flew and it missed my nose! Left me only a scratch on my fancy toes! So hooray for the captain, and hurrah for the crew, Another fine adventure, for me and for you!🎶

Hands clapped, bare feet stomped, and the entire room became a single, vibrating unit, drawn in by the magnetic energy of his voice. Every beat, every note, resonated through the wooden floor and up into the bodies of the dancing crowd.

And in that vibrant, unbridled, joyous moment, all noise and movement around Est melted away, and he stood utterly frozen, captivated by the pure power of William's voice. Amidst the joyful chaos, William's eyes scanned the crowd.

And then he saw him. Standing near the back, looking out of place despite his rough clothes, was the man from the saloon. Their gazes locked and William remembered him.

Remembered the pale, delicate beauty who had trained his eyes on him that night while he sang his heart out. He could never forget those dark, endless pools that shone so bright under the chandelier lights, even from across a distance.

A spark of surprise, then interest, lit in William's chest. He finished his song with a flourish, the applause thundering around him. He put his guitar away and slowly made his way through the dancing bodies, heading straight for Est, who turned at the sight of him, ready to flee.

"Hello!" William's voice cut through the loud chatter, his lips curved in a playful smile. His soft tone halted Est's attempt to flee mid-step. He couldn’t run away now without being too obvious and getting noticed.

He slowly turned around and met William’s curious gaze.

William took a step forward. “You came here to watch the show?”

Est blinked. He’d half expected accusations and was already shaping lies in his head. “Hmmm.” He nodded in assent.

“Well… did you enjoy it?" William’s eyes swept over his pretty features.

The boy looked even more stunning up close. His eyes sparkled with interest.

What was this stranger doing here?

Est blinked again—surprised at his casual inquisition. He studied the small smile at the corner of the boy’s lips and peered at him even closer. He felt something warm pool in his stomach and he gulped at his sudden dry throat. His face flushed and his gaze darted around.

"Y-yes." He managed, his voice a quiet, almost shaky whisper. William beamed at his simple word. His voice was a soft, rich tone that matched his subtle, angelic features.

He couldn’t help but be enchanted by him. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling for him and it was a dangerous one for the time they lived in, but he welcomed it with carefree glee.

He stepped closer, his voice dropping a little, more intimate now. "I’ve seen you before…" He said, a knowing look in his eyes. "Upstairs where things are a little more... glamorous. What brings you down here to these parts?"

Est's eyes widened further, surprise and a hint of fear flickering in them. He swallowed, visibly flustered, and tried to turn away again. "I... I should go."

He stepped out with long careful strides.

But William was quick. He followed Est out of the noisy room— a natural ease in his movements around the dark path. Est moved with purpose, and as soon as William felt him slipping away, he reached out, gently grabbing his hand.

Sparks flew and Est froze at the contact. He looked down at their intertwined hands before looking up to meet William’s gaze.

“Where are you going? The show hasn't ended yet… Did I say something wrong?” The panicked look in William's eyes stunned Est.

Est tried to find the words to explain why he couldn’t stay but everything he came up with was firmly lodged in his throat.

William studied his face, a million emotions playing in his eyes, and he gently squeezed his hand. Est’s breath caught.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" William murmured, his voice soft but firm.

He looked directly at Est, his curiosity burning bright.

The question so simple, the look in his eyes awakened something that Est had closed himself off to for a very long time. His whole life.

But he quickly shut it down. He could never explore that part of himself. Not today or tomorrow. Not in this lifetime.

He took a slow, steady breath and looked down, his shoulders tense. "I... I can't." He whispered, the words barely audible.

The tension between them was soft, almost a current, hinting at a strange, undeniable pull. William tilted his head, his expression softening further, a sympathetic look in his eye. "I understand..."

He still held on to Est’s soft, well-manicured fingers, a stark contrast against his strong, calloused hands, afraid that once it slipped out of his, it would be the last time he would hold them. He had to see him again.

This beautiful stranger who’d so suddenly enchanted him.

He thought deeply and let a brief silence hang in the air before offering— a low, sweet promise in his tone. "Tell me your name and I'll sing you a song. Just for you."

Est looked up, his quiet gaze meeting William's confident one. The offer, so simple yet so personal, seemed to break something in him.

He knew he should turn around and walk away from this situation, from this stranger whose voice kept him up for long hours of the night.

But he thought about his long, boring day that were leading him to a longer, boring, miserable life. He could trade that for a few days of comforting melodies from this stranger, a fleeting escape from the suffocating path laid out for him.

He hesitated, before his lips parted— a small, quiet, almost imperceptible "Est..." escaping him. His name slipped out of those heart shaped lips, a soft, almost hesitant promise to William.

William smiled wholeheartedly, a genuine warmth radiating from him. "Est…" It tasted like the finest plum wine as it rolled off his tongue. "As beautiful as you are."

Est's breath hitched, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. He tried to express distaste at the word, a familiar scowl forming between his brows.

He usually hated it when Earna called him beautiful. But from this boy's lips, spoken with such earnest adoration, he could only blush at the adjective.

His efforts to look annoyed were half-hearted at best, his expressive face betraying a flicker of something new, something almost pleased.

William's eyes, dark and knowing, sparkled with genuine adoration at Est's subtle, undeniable expression of flattered embarrassment.

"You should tell me your name," Est mumbled lightly, his voice still a quiet murmur. "So I know who owes me a song."

William only chuckled, a low, warm sound. "I'm William…"

~~~

That night, sleep was a distant shore for Est.

He lay in the opulent silence of his suite, replaying his evening over and over in his mind.

The plush mattress did little to ease the turmoil in his mind. William's face, his confident smile, and the warmth of his hand lingered vividly in his head.

Est replayed their quiet conversation again and again, each murmured word, each lingering glance, each tense silence. His mind raced with doubts and fears.

What was he doing?

This boy, this singer from another world on this very ship, was dangerous. He was a threat to everything Est knew, everything he was expected to be. His family’s legacy, their honor—it all felt like a crushing weight, a responsibility he couldn't, wouldn't, escape.

Any sort of relationship with William—even a fleeting one, was unthinkable, a reckless act that could shatter his carefully constructed life and bring shame upon his family.

He pushed down the strange, warm feeling William stirred, burying it beneath layers of duty and fear.

He decided, firmly, he would not pursue this. He would not see William again.

The next morning, Est went through his usual privileged routine.

Breakfast was tasteless. His laps in the pool felt heavy. The social chatter was unbearable, and the books in the reading room remained unread.

He tried to focus, to distract himself with the familiar, but William's voice, his curious eyes, kept breaking through his resolve. The day felt eerily long, stretched thin by an unwelcome anticipation.

When evening finally arrived, bringing with it the time for dinner, Est felt a strange mix of dread and a faint, desperate hope.

He entered the Grand dining saloon, the familiar opulence now feeling like a trap. Est kept his gaze firmly trained on his meal.

He tried paying no mind to the orchestra’s notes, tried to ignore every familiar tune—an unbearable task, knowing what would follow.

He was acutely aware of William’s imminent approach. So he thought it best to avoid the music.

He would put William out of his mind by all means.

His mind noticed the sharp silence and the hushed coos of the guests at the approaching figure. The whispers of praise, a soft ripple, seemed to follow William’s every step as he moved towards the platform.

William stepped onto the orchestra platform—guitar in hand, a confident, captivating presence. He gave the room a gentle, almost enigmatic smile, then settled the guitar.

A soft, intricate melody began to flow from his fingertips, acoustic notes filling the air with a beauty. Then, his voice—rich and tender, carried the words of "A Bird in a Gilded Cage"

🎶 He's a bird in a gilded cage, A beautiful sight to see, You may think he's happy and gay, But he longs for the wild and the free. His heart is sad, though his home is grand, He dreams of skies unknown, For a bird in a cage, though of shining gold, Can never truly own… 🎶

The pronoun change, the sincerity in William's voice was palpable, a raw thread of emotion woven into each note. It wasn't just a song— it felt like a story, whispered privately, intimately to Est.

He sang of longing, of hidden sorrow beneath a beautiful surface, of a yearning for freedom that Est—listening from his own grand prison— felt deep in his bones.

Slowly, almost against his will, Est's gaze lifted from his untouched meal. His eyes, heavy witha new wave of melancholy, found William on the platform.

William’s dark hair fell in soft waves, lashes fluttered as he leaned into the microphone, his expression one of profound connection to the music.

Their eyes met across the vast, sparkling room, and in William's gaze, Est thought he saw a silent, knowing understanding that sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn't look away.

When William finished the last note, the saloon erupted not just with applause, but with a collective, heartfelt sigh.

The guests, usually so composed, burst into loud, fervent claps and murmurs of appreciation. Many stood, some even called out “Bravo!” and "Encore!". A rare display of such genuine emotion from the very ignorant socialites.

William bowed—a soft, graceful gesture— his eyes, for a fleeting moment, meeting Est's once more before he turned to leave the stage.

After dinner, as Est politely made his excuses to his family and left the hall. He noticed William standing discreetly outside the entrance, clearly waiting for him.

William's gaze met his, a soft, inviting smile on his lips. He ignored the curious glances from passing staff and a few lingering guests.

"Good evening, Est," William said, his voice low, only for him. "How was your day? And did you like the song I promised you?" His eyes sparkled with playful warmth, oblivious to the icy wall Est was frantically trying to erect around himself.

Est's eyes darted wildly. He felt cornered, exposed. Trapped. He panicked and his words came out sharper than he intended, a desperate attempt to create distance. "My day was fine. And I think you shouldn't stand too close to me. Before people misunderstand." He spoke quickly, dismissing William.

William's smile faltered, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. Before he could respond, a sharp, authoritative voice cut in. "Is this man bothering you, sir?" A burly guard stepped forward, his eyes fixed on William with suspicion.

Est's heart jumped. He couldn't risk a scene, couldn't risk William being disciplined. Or worse, he couldn't risk they connection being exposed. "No!" He said, too quickly, the word feeling heavy. "We were just... talking."

William—gaze now steely, didn't wait. He looked from Est's pale face to the guard, steeling his jaw. "Yeah and we're done talking." He said, his voice flat, free of its usual warmth.

Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing quickly down a service corridor.

Est watched him go, a cold knot forming in his stomach, ignoring the guard's questioning stare that was burning into him.

That night, the silence of Est's room felt heavier than usual. His insomnia was something he’d come to terms with and he stared at ceiling—drawing invisible lines, his mind occupied.

He felt a sharp sting of regret from his earlier words to William. He kept seeing the hurt flicker in William's eyes, the way he’d turned away. Suddenly the walls of guilt closed in on him and he felt suffocated.

He needed air, space, a place where he could breathe away the pretense. Driven by a restless ache he couldn't name, Est pulled on his plain, borrowed clothes once more.

He moved through the hushed, deserted corridors like a ghost, slipping past the grand staircase, feeling like a thief in his own lavish prison.

He’d sailed this ship before. He knew certain routes, service passages. He'd glimpsed through open doors, forgotten stairwells that lead downwards and also lead upwards, to less guarded spots.

He found a narrow staircase, dimly lit, that seemed to ascend higher than usual. His heart thumped a nervous rhythm against his ribs as he climbed, careful not to make a sound.

He pushed open a heavy door at the top, stepping out onto a vast, open deck. The air was crisp— cold and clean, tasting of salt and the endless ocean. Above him, the sky was a deep, velvet black, studded with more stars than he had ever seen in the city. The only sound was the rhythmic rush of the sea against the ship, and the whistling wind.

This was the very front of the Titanic, a forbidden expanse of deck that felt like the edge of the world. It was deserted, vast, terrifying, and utterly free.

And then he saw him.

William sat at the railing, facing the vast, dark ocean, his silhouette stark against the twinkling stars. He was motionless, his head slightly bowed, his guitar held loosely in his hand.

He wasn't playing, he was simply there, a lonely figure swallowed by the immensity of the night.

Est hesitated, a fresh wave of awkwardness washing over him. He felt guilt and turned to depart.

But he hesitated.

The sight of William— so unexpectedly vulnerable, held him in place.

He took a hesitant step forward, the light sound of his worn boot on the deck planks breaking the silence.

William’s head snapped up. He turned slowly, his eyes, dark and unreadable in the dim light, fixing on Est. There was no surprise, no anger, only a quiet, almost resigned knowing in them.

The moment stretched, tense and fragile, filled only by the whisper of the wind and the crashing waves.

"Its you…" William murmured, his voice soft, barely audible above the ocean. He didn't smile as he usually would, Est noticed. There was a raw edge to his tone that Est hadn't heard before, a quiet hurt that mirrored his own.

The vast expanse of the deck stretched before them, silent save for the roar of the ocean.

Est stood rigid for a moment, then, his voice— a quiet murmur, asked. "What are you doing here?"

William shrugged, his hands still loosely holding his guitar. "Came here to think. The stars are clearer out here." He looked at Est, a hint of hardness still evident in those luminous pools.

Est hadn’t meant on the deck, but on the ship itself. He shifted, awkward. "No, I mean... what are you doing ‘here’? On this ship? You don't look much older than nineteen." His voice held a surprising gentleness.

William snorted softly, a cocky smile touching his lips. "Nineteen? Try twenty. And I've been making a name for myself as a musician. I'm going to New York to pursue my dreams." His words were confident, filled with a youthful, eager ambition.

He then tilted his head, looking at Est from head to toe. "And you? What brings an elite passenger down here, out of your fancy clothes?"

The air between them, despite the roaring ocean, became soft and gentle.

Est hesitated, before lowering himself next to William. He gently gazed at him a moment, sighing loudly before the words spilled out.

He told William everything. He spoke of the vast rice empire, the weight of a future already written. He spoke of swimming, of gold medals, of a bright athletic future that had ended suddenly.

He spoke of everything. Everything but his arranged marriage. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to share that.

William listened, his expression serious, his eyes holding a deep understanding. "I get you. I would like to be rich like you… but not at the cost of my freedom. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Est only smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.

William watched him closely, and felt the need to change the topic. “You know…" He murmured— a faint smile touching his lips. "You're Thai, like me."

Est blinked, surprised that William also was. “Really?” He asked, eyes bright with this unexpected knowledge.

"But you look more Chinese than Thai." William noted, a soft tease in his voice.

Est gave a smal huff, a vein forming on his forehead. "And you don't look purely Thai either." He countered softly.

William chuckled, a low, warm sound. "Guilty. I'm quarter American."

“Only quarter?” Est teased

William ignored him, rolling his eyes.

 A pause.

Est watched him closely, then gently nudged William’s shoulder with his. "You know I’m older than you. You should call me Phi." William snorted again, shaking his head.

"No way I’m doing that. We look the same age." His voice was stubborn, playful.

"I’m Twenty-four." Est deadpanned.

William's eyes widened in genuine surprise. "Twenty-four! Really? Stop lying."

“Is it really that hard to believe?” Est eyes dance with humor.

“Well…you don’t really look it.” He paused, then a confident, charming smile spread across his face. "Alright then. I'll call you... Nong Luk Est."

Est's brow twitched, lips pouted in slight annoyance, and he bit back a retort. Then looked away, face flushed.

He knew the affection in the name, the boldness of it. "You should tell me full your name." He mumbled, changing the topic. He had to regain some form of composure. "So I remember you when you become famous."

William's smile widened at his words. "I'm William. William Jakrapatr."

"Est Supha." Est replied, the full name feeling strangely right to say to William. He added, almost shyly, "It used to be Ravipon. But I changed it… for superstitious reasons."

“Superstitious, huh? Do tell.”

“I had my fortune read and they said my old name— Ravipon. Made me hot tempered and too emotional. So I changed it. Silly right?” He smiled embarrassed.

William laughed, shaking his head—a bright, clear sound that carried on the wind. "No it's not. It's kind of admirable. And cute." He said earnestly.

Then he spun his head again to stare at Est, his eyes sparkling with adoration. "Yesterday you were pretty… but today you're cute. I wonder what tomorrow will bring." His voice a mellow, teasing tone.

Est flushed—a deep, undeniable blush that crept up his neck despite himself. The compliment, so direct and genuine from William, warmed him. He playfully shoved William, anything to hide his heated face.

William had a way with words that made it it so easy to be around him.

A brief silence.

“I-I apologize for my rudeness earlier.” Est stuttered, embarrassed.

"It's okay," William said softly, understanding in his eyes. "I get it. I really do."

Another comfortable silence.

William the stood, moving smoothly to the railing and leaning over, gazing down at the churning dark water. "You know…this ocean." He murmured, his voice now serious, almost somber. "It's beautiful, but treacherous. Imagine all the bodies that lie underneath these waves, all those untold stories, all the lost treasures." He gazed deeply into the dark, endless sea over the railings and felt a call, a pull.

A sudden wave of unease washed over Est.

William was leaning too far. Accessing the dangerous situation, Est reached out, pulling William back with more force than he intended. William stumbled, caught off guard, and the ship gave a sudden lurch. They both nearly fell, their feet tangling.

But William—with swiftness and surprising strength—caught Est. Est's fingers splayed against William’s shoulder, holding on tight, while William’s hand wrapped firmly around Est’s waist, steadying them both.

They stood there, pressed close, the wind whipping around them, their eyes locked in an intense, silent gaze. The world seemed to shrink to just the two of them, the thrum of the ship a distant heartbeat.

William's gaze swept over Est’s face slowly and his voice lowered— a husky whisper "You know…you’ve unlocked something in me, P’ Est." He gently took Est's free hand and placed it on his own chest, directly over his heart. "Do you feel it too?"

Est could feel the warmth of William's skin and the rapid, powerful pound of his heart beneath his palm.

He gazed deeply into William’s eyes, lost in the unspoken connection between them. They stood still, wrapped around each other on the lonely, windswept deck underneath the starry nights of the treacherous, monstrous ocean.

Chapter Text

Est lay awake again that soft, moonlit night. It seemed getting to know William, it came with insomnia.

The images on the forecastle deck vividly replayed in his mind over and over, his heart bursting with somethinghe couldn't explain.

He thought about William's hand on his waist, how it fit so naturally and how right it felt. He thought about how he'd grasped William's shoulder, the fine muscles he'd felt underneath all his fabric.

He felt fear but he also felt something more. Something warm and hot and right, real. He embraced this blooming feeling in his chest, this throbbing warmth.

He came to a conclusion about William— a beautiful, undeniable truth, settled deep within him. This stranger, this musician, had crashed into his life and was quickly taking up space.

Meanwhile, down below, on the lower decks of the ship, William laid lazily on his bunk, grinning from ear to ear.

His only thoughts were about Est. He replayed the scenes of the night in his head over and over. The vast, starry sky above the endless ocean, the desperate plea in Est's eyes, the way Est had held onto him.

His heart felt lighter than it had in years, bubbling with unexpected joy.

The musicians came in, boisterous and lively after their late night cap.

Lego looked over William on the bed, smiling sheepishly. “Oh look at him. He’s grinning from ear to ear. I wonder who the special lady is.” He teased with a knowing grin.

William only laughed it off, a deeper, richer sound than usual, a genuine warmth in his voice. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh come on, tell us… Or is she married? Are you having an affair William?” Hong chirped in.

They all collectively laughed, making guesses as to who the fair maiden was, teasing him about a possible scandalous ship romance.

William just shook his head, his smile only widening, delight dancing in his eyes. “No, they’re not married. And no, it’s not the statesman’s wife.” He added, rolling his eyes.

“She wants you.” Nut shrugged, the others hooting at his statement.

“Well it’s not… this person…” He said, eyes dazed. “They're magic.” He whispered, almost as if he was telling himself.

“Atleast, tell us if it’s a Lady? One of the upper class folks?” He questioned, brow raised.

“They are.”

Tui hummed deep in thought, older, wiser. “I guess you really can fall in love anywhere. I’ll tell you this William, you think— long and hard. If it’s really worth holding onto, I’d say go for it… But if it’s trouble, real trouble, as it usually is with those people, it’s not worth it, brother.” He patted him on the shoulder. “Just be… careful.”

William nodded slowly, deeply processing his words.

Est was… trouble. But it didn’t matter who he was. A politician or a mechanic? He would always be trouble. As it was with Queer people like him.

He'd decided, earlier on in his life, he would follow his heart no matter what. Be it man or woman, no matter how unconventional and dangerous it could be, he would embrace his feelings and be true to himself. Always.

William shifted in his bed, cradling his pillow, his mind still reeling with thoughts of Est. The Upperclassman who crept his way into his world and straight into his heart.

~~~

That morning, at breakfast, Est sat quietly amidst his family, carefully calculating, plotting and probing, while his mother yapped away about some scandal he paid half attention to. He had to navigate the conversation, make it seem casual and innocent. Less suspicious.

“Mom…” He began, eyes firmly placed on the book he was pretending to read. “do you know that Mary is an avid fan of acoustic music?” A detail he pulled from distant memory.

“Well no sweetheart.” She blinked with sudden interest, her too bright red lips curving. He couldn’t help but think the color looked distasteful on her. “Why?” She inquired, gently sipping her tea.

“I’ve been thinking— wondering, what would be a proper engagement gift for her.” He lied. He hadn’t been thinking about Mary at all. He’d been thinking about William.

“Oh that’s easy sweetheart. We have a number of family heirlooms you can—“

“Boring. I was thinking about something more… Sentimental.”

“Oh? And what would be your suggestion?” She sat forward, elbows on the table now, eyes bright with genuine curiousity.

“She was a fan of the Charley Patton. I remember from our time at St. Anns.” He faked a fond smile. “I would sing her a song of hiss. To express my fondness. My acceptance of our engagement… But I would have to learn to play the guitar...”He let the rest linger, weave its way into her mind.

She clapped her hand, smile beaming, voice cheery. “That’s a wonderful idea son. A serenade! The perfect romantic gesture. Oh! Even I’m melting envisioning it.”

This earned a suspicious gaze from his sister, Earna, who knew Est too well to buy into such half assed bull shit.

Est swallowed the minor guilt forming in his chest. He did not like to lie. Especially to his mother. But it’s not like it was a complete lie. He would still be fulfilling his duty and he would still sing Mary a song. He would just get closer to William in the process. Kill two birds with one stone.

“So it’s settled then.” His mother said, delighted. She looked over to her steward, Mr Boxley, a round-faced faced mustached man in his late forties. “Alan, make the necessary preparations. Find Est an instructor , he begins once we return to New York.”

Est eyes widened panic but he quickly caught himself and maintained calm, kept the ruse up. He kept his voice still, even. "I would like to start now, Mother." His posture remained dignified, unbothered. "I'm quite bored of my routine, and I genuinely want to learn something new. But discreetly, of course. I wouldn't want to be the subject of petty gossip." He added this last part with a small, innocent shrug, knowing it would appeal to his mother's sense of decorum.

“That is true… but who could fill in such a position? Any suggestions?” She looked over at the table.

“ I do have one in fact.” He looked over at her steward, with a practiced air of feigned disinterest. “The boy, the singer from the saloon. Find out if he'd be up to it. Make an offer he can't refuse.”

“Yes sir.” Mr Boxley nodded.

His mother, caught up in the thrill of it all clapped and giggled enthusiastically.

And with that, It was settled.

That afternoon, a quiet knock came at Est’s suite door. When the Steward opened it, William stood there, looking strikingly handsome.

He was now well-dressed in a neat, dark suit that had provided for him , his dark hair now slicked back in a style that showcased and defined his handsome features. His posture was casual but graceful, his overall demeanor one of the effortless confidence that seemed to radiate from him.

Est's eyes trailed him as he stepped inside, taking in the sight of him, so polished and refined, yet still undeniably William

Est's breath hitched, then he blinked, a nervous gulp catching in his throat. He quickly looked away, suddenly shy despite his brave disposition earlier, feeling a warmth spread through him at William's mere presence.

William, seemingly unaware of Est's sudden shyness, took a moment to observe his surroundings.

His gaze swept over the spacious suite, taking in the fine mahogany paneling, the plush velvet furniture, the brass fixtures, the delicate, framed paintings on the walls.

He saw a clear picture of what Est's life was truly like— a world of luxury, a stark contrast against his world of cramped cabins and aged furnishings.

He moved closer to where Est awkwardly stood by the window, unwrapped his guitar from its worn leather case, and set it gently against a side table.

"How are you, Phi Est?" He asked, his voice soft, almost a murmur, a hint of warm amusement playing in his tone.

Est swallowed, his throat suddenly too dry. "I'm fine." He managed, his voice a little too tight, betraying the nervous flutter in his stomach.

He was drawn in by William's presence, his handsome mixed race features, the subtle scent of him—a masculine, clean, woody scent mixed with faint traces of sea air—the way he seemed to fill the room with his easy confidence.

William glanced out the window, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he surveyed the endless blue ocean.

He looked back at Est, closely studying him. "What a view." He said lightly.

Est lips curled into a faint smile, looking at the sea. “Yes, the view is very beautiful.”

“I meant you.” William said, his words simple.

But it was impactful too. It hit Est hard in the face like cold sea water splashed upon him and he suddenly forgot how to breathe.

He turned his face to William, whose eyes twinkled mischievously, a hint of playful challenge in their depths.

His face flushed and he wanted to say something, to scold. But his words failed him so he just stood there, speechless and yet strangely pleased.

William lips curved a secret smile, walking to the edge of THR bed. "So… for two hours every day…" He added, his voice dropping slightly, "We'll be completely alone in here, won't we?" The words hung in the air, a silent question, a bold suggestion.

Est nodded, gulping again, his heart beginning to pound against his ribs. The implication of William's words, the forbidden intimacy they promised, the audacity of it all, hung heavy between them.

William's gaze lingered, warm and knowing, a silent dare. "So…" He murmured—voice low, husky, air tense with unspoken chemistry, a magnetic pull between them that was so intense it was almost painful. "What exactly will we do for such long hours, Phi Est?"

His eyes held a playful gleam, but in it was seriousness too, a direct challenge to Est's true intentions.

Est blinked, his face burning red, feeling completely exposed. He felt as though William could see straight into his deepest desires, read every longing etched in his mind.

He abruptly turned, quickly closing the heavy velvet curtains, plunging the room into a softer, more intimate light that felt like a secret shared only between them.

He turned back, his voice more steady now, a desperate attempt to regain some semblance of control. "I'm actually serious about the guitar lessons, William."

William watched him carefully, a soft, knowing smile on his lips, a gentle tease in his eyes.

He stepped closer, invading Est's personal space, his presence warm but almost threatening. His voice was a low, teasing whisper. "Are you really, Phi Est? Or did you just bring me here because you wanted to be close to me?"

Est ignored his question, his cheeks still burning, the heat spreading down his neck. He cleared his throat, to regain control of the situation. William seemed to know how to push his buttons. "I'd like to begin my lessons now."

William watched him for another long moment. He saw the nervous energy, the desperate need for a distraction, and the longing that shimmered in Est's carefully constructed facade.

Finally, with a soft nod, he obliged.

He walked over to the plush reading chair, indicating for Est to sit.

They spent the next hour going through the basics. Est eventually moved to the bed to get comfortable —William next to him, patiently teaching him the proper way to hold the guitar, the names of the strings, the placement of his fingers.

Est was horrible at first, his fingers stiff and clumsy, struggling to form the simplest chords.

His mind was constantly distracted by the close proximity of William, the way his strong, calloused fingers moved so effortlessly over the strings, a musician’s grace in every strum.

He could feel William’s gaze on him, a warm weight that made it hard to focus, made his skin tingle.

But he forced himself to concentrate, determined to learn, and slowly, he starte to lean into it, the unfamiliar sensation of the vibrating strings against his fingertips, learning the basic chords of an old, simple tune.

He liked the feeling of the guitar in his hands, a small accomplishment in a life where he had so little control.

He missed a note, his fingers fumbling awkwardly, producing a dull, flat sound that grated in the softly lit room.

William shifted closer to him without a word, to fix, to correct. He leaned in, close, so close that Est could feel the warmth radiating from him, the subtle brush of his arm against Est's.

William wrapped his rough, warm palms around Est’s, gently, carefully, guiding his fingers to the correct position on the strings, pressing them down with just the right amount of pressure.

Their faces were inches apart, so close that Est could feel William's soft breath on his skin, a gentle caress that sent shivers down his spine, leaving a tingling trail. Est's heart skipped a beat, then began to pound frantically, his breath hitching in his throat at their sudden, intense closeness. William’s scent— so uniquely masculine and compelling, filled his senses, intoxicating him, clouding his thoughts.

William locked his gaze at Est's dark pools of eyes, which were now unfocused and dilated with desire, to his heart shaped lips, parted slightly in silent anticipation.

There was profound yearning in William's eyes, a hunger that mirrored Est's own. He was drawn to him, an invisible, magnetic force pulling him closer.

He leaned forward, closer, closer, until their lips were almost touching, a mere hairsbreadth away from a kiss. Est’s eyes fluttered shut, his body tensing with a sweet, aching anticipation, every nerve alive, buzzing with electric energy.

KNOCK!

They both jumped, startled, at a sudden sound on the door, breaking the magnetic, electric spell.

Est's mother pushed the door open, coming in with her maid—a silver bowl of diced pineapple in hand.

She beamed, her cheerful voice cutting through the sudden awkward silence. "Est, darling, I thought you might like some refreshment!"

Her gaze then fell on William who sat next to him, and smiled at him. “Oh! And this must be the singer who's been gracing my ears with such delight!”

William stood, palms together in greeting. “Sawadee Ka.” He bowed.

“Oh, a countryman?! What a respectful young man. So talented too. No wonder my Est was drawn to you. He has a keen eyes for these things, you know. Est hope you have been taking good care of your Nong here.”

Est gave a nervous, stiff smile, heart still racing from their almost kiss.

“Yes Khun Mae.” William answered for him, voice over so soft.

She was completely charmed by William— his polite demeanor and handsome features, completely oblivious to the intimate scene she had interrupted. "Such a handsome young man!" She gushed, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

She asked more about him, his family name, expressing happiness at meeting a young countryman, and promised to support and cheer for him in his journey.

She turned to Est— who was still sitting awkwardly, her smile unwavering. "How are the lessons going, my dear?"

“Uh-uhmmm“ Est stuttered, lump in throat.

William cut in. “Oh he’s perfect Khun Mae, a sharp learner. I expected it to be hard given that he had little to no experience but he’s a natural.”

She beamed happily, preening under William's compliments, clearly proud of her son's quick development.

“That’s wonderful William. I’m happy to hear that. My Est is so good at many things, it’s no surprise. You know, he is doing all of this so he can serenade his fiancée, Mary, with her favorite song. He's just so sweet and romantic, isn't he?" She cooed, her voice dripping with maternal pride, completely missing the subtle, painful shift in the room's atmosphere.

William's face noticeably dropped, the light in his eyes dimming. A shadow fell over his bright expression. Est, catching it, felt a sharp, sickening twist of guilt form in his stomach. His deception had been laid bare.

His mother chattered on a little more about what a wonderful wife Mary would be, how she couldn't wait to have grandchildren, filling the awkward silence with her oblivious chatter, before finally departing, leaving a heavy, suffocating silence in her wake.

William looked at his pocket watch, then at Est, his earlier warmth replaced by a distant politeness, a wall erected between them. "Well, that's our time… I should leave now." He said, moving away.

Est’s heart sank, a desperate ache blooming in his chest. He reached out, acting on instinct, grabbing William's arm, his fingers tightening around his bicep. He owed an explanation. William deserved one.

"I don’t want to marry her." He said without preamble. The words were rushed, genuine, free of all pretense.

William looked at him, gaze was solemn and understanding. He didn't pull his arm away. Yet. But he couldn’t trust either. Not yet. "But you know her favorite song." He stated, his voice quiet, almost accusatory. "You even want to sing it to her." His tone was flat, devoid of its usual warmth.

"She's a childhood friend…" Est explained, pleadingly, trying to make him understand, to mend the sudden rift between them. "We were close until her family moved abroad. But we kept in touch. I know her, but I don't love her. I only lied about that because…" Est paused, his voice barely a whisper, the true reason spilling out. "Because… I want to be close to you. I want to get to know you, William."

His words hung in the air, vulnerable and fragile.

Hope bloomed in William's heart, a sudden burst of warmth in the softly lit room.

But it shattered just as quick, like glass, when he realized the brutal, unyielding truth. They only had days left to spare.

They would arrive in New York soon, and they would be history, a brief encounter that ended. The thought was crushing. "It doesn't matter…" William said, his voice thick with resignation, Tom’s words echoing in his head. "You’re trouble Phi Est. You and me, we don’t exist beyond this ship. We won’t exist after it.”

Est blinked, resigned too, the weight of the truth heavy on his shoulders— a familiar, crushing burden. "Yes..." He agreed, shoulders falling, defeated.

But he didn’t want things to end. Not like this. “ I don't want you leave yet.” He muttered , a soft plea. “Stay. We can talk and eat some watermelon." He said, scrunching his face at the untouched bowl of diced watermelon.

William laughed, a soft sound that held genuine amusement. "You don't like watermelon?"

"I detest watermelon." Est confirmed, a small smile finally touching his lips.

“Me too.”

They both laughed, loud and full.

“Your mother doesn't know that?”

Est sighed. “She doesn't. She only knows my pretense. The parts I let her see.”

Silence.

“But with you, I feel like I don't have to pretend. Like I can shed all my false layers and be myself. Truly.” His voice was quiet, almost forlorn.

William didn't speak, just listened.

Est gazed at him again, eyes full of genuine longing adoration. William stared back with equal intensity.

“Stay?” He whispered.

“Okay.” William whispered back.

They plopped onto the bed again, sitting casually, the guitar now forgotten between them.

They just talked, easily, about any and everything that came to mind. Their childhoods, awkward teenagehoods, sharing silly humor and funny stories that made the opulent room feel less stifling.

They talked about first kisses, past relationships, and eventually, it shifted to the more intimate topic of sex.

Est blushed deeply at the topic, a vivid crimson spreading across his fair skin, something William caught, a knowing glint in his eye, a soft smile touching his lips.

But he didn't budge any further, respecting Est’s unspoken boundaries. He just observed with gentle amusement, a silent invitation for Est to share what he chooses to.

Est, skin warm and heart stuttering, searched his eyes for judgment. He only saw the invitation, and emboldened by William’s openness, and his growing sense of safety in William's presence, asked “Have you been with a man before?”

“Yes.” He answered, not hesitant, just confident and sure. “I’ve been with men… and women. But I have a preference… for men.”

Est felt his heart pound at the easy confidence of his admission, how it was devoid of shame or hesitation.

William didn't ask Est the same, a silent understanding passing between them, because somehow he could tell that was something Est hadn't pursued before. A hidden, untouched part of himself.

“Is it scary?” Est asked, knowing fully well what happened to people like them in the world, the judgment, the dangers.

William pulled an elbow over a pillow, resting his head on palm “Hmmm? Well yes and no. When you're a nobody like me, from the slums, people don't really care. They’re too hungry to give a damn. As long as it isn’t loud or in plain sight, everybody minds their business.” He said casually, indifferent.

Est nodded.

A grim truth spoken with a casual shrug, a stark reminder of their different realities.

“When you—“ Est started to ask, gaze intense, a question burning on his tongue, but he hesitated, biting his lower lip nervously. "Don’t worry about it. I shouldn't be talking about this with you…it's not proper." He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable.

William watched him, eyes half lidded, a silent dare in their depths, but also a deep understanding of Est's internal struggle. He’d gone through it himself.

He reached out, his hand gently touching Est’s arm, his touch warm and reassuring, his voice a low, seductive whisper that cut through Est's anxiety like a knife. "I'm not a child, Phi Est.”

Est's breath hitched, caught in his throat. He looked at William, truly looked, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe properly, charged with electricity that crackled between them.

He swallowed thickly, his gaze fixed on William’s lips, which seemed to beckon on to him. "I don't think you're a child." He whispered back, his voice barely audible, raw with yearning.

William leaned forward, his eyes daring, challenging Est to let go, to take the plunge. "Then prove it." His voice was low, hypnotic, sensual, a warm current pulling Est closer.

Est watched him, breathing unevenly, his entire body humming with a mixture of fear and desire.

Every instinct screamed at him to run, to retreat into the safety of his prearranged life, to protect the fragile facade he had built.

His eyes wanted to take it, to take that next step, to plunge into the unknown territory William offered, to explore this dangerous, thrilling connection. But he wasn't brave enough to. Not yet.

So he sat still, rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the internal battle between fear and longing.

But William didn't stop.

He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Est’s— gentle, soft, a hesitant tender exploration. The kiss was a second long, barely a touch of skin to skin, but it was just enough for Est to feel the warmth, the soft pressure, the undeniable pull.

Est pulled away abruptly, trembling lightly, his breaths sharp and shallow, coming in ragged gasps.

It was like his entire world was unraveling with that fleeting kiss, everything he knew dissolving around him, revealing a world shattering, beautiful truth.

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, a frantic drum against his ribs, threatening to burst out of his chest.

William watched him, his eyes yearning and understanding. No judgment, only a deep, quiet patience. He gently cupped Est's face in his palms, his thumbs stroking his hot cheeks, trying to calm him.

He pressed their heads together, resting his forehead against Est's, lightly giving Est comforting strokes along his jawline and through his dark hair. "It's okay… it's me…it's just me here." He murmured, his voice a soothing balm against Est's panic, a gentle anchor in his storm.

Est relaxed at his words, the simple, unwavering presence of William grounding him, allowing him to breathe again, deeply and slowly. His racing pulse began to slow its frantic beat.

Then William kissed him again. This time, it was soft. Tender. Careful. A silent question, a gentle invitation, a continuation of the promise earlier broken by the knock. Est didn't pull away. He leaned into it.

Est allowed himself to listen to the kiss, to the feel, the texture, the warmth of William's lips.

He'd only ever kissed a girl before, a hasty, awkward brush of lips done out of obligation rather than desire, and it had felt raw and bleeding.

But this— this was different. This was William. His very being. It felt warm and soft and right, a profound sense of belonging washing over him.

William's lips were fiercer now, demanding more, taking more, no longer gentle but hungry, fervent. His hand moved from Est's face to his jawline, his thumb rubbing sensuously over Est's lips. "Open your mouth." He whispered into the kiss, a low command that Est instinctively obeyed, his mind clearing of everything but William.

William slipped his tongue in, slow and deliberate, exploring. Roaming. Tasting every inch of Est's mouth. Est moaned, a low, guttural sound, deep in his throat, as he was being utterly devoured, his senses reeling, consumed by William's passionate invasion.

William moved the guitar aside and pushed him back into the pillows of the plush bed, hovering over him, his weight pressing down against Est's.

He placed gentle, lingering kisses on Est's face, raining them down on his eyelids, his nose, his chin, before trailing his tongue from his neck to behind his ear, sending shivers through Est's entire body, making his skin prickle with delicious awareness.

Est could not mask the loud moan that escaped his lips, a sudden, sharp gasp of pure pleasure, louder than he intended.

His eyes snapped open, wide with panic, and he gasped, pushing William off him with surprising force.

He was terrified. Someone might have heard, their secret might be have been exposed.

The thick curtains suddenly felt thin, the walls paper, his alibi crumbling around him.

William watched the panic set in, his expression instantly softening, his eyes concerned. He reached out, gently rubbing Est's arm, his touch soothing. "Phi, it's okay. No one heard. The engines... they cover everything, remember?" He continued to calm him, his voice a balm, his eyes reassuring. "You're okay. We’re okay."

Est's breathing soon returned to normal, though his heart still hammered in his chest.

He palmed his face, ashamed of his sudden dramatic outburst, his own intense, uncontrollable reaction. "I'm sorry." Hme whispered, his voice muffled by his hands. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It's okay…" William murmured, pulling Est's hand from his face, holding it gently, his thumb stroking Est's palm. "I understand you. I'm sorry if I came on too strong, too fast."

Est turned his head to look at him, his gaze soft and earnest, tears stinging his eyes but not quite falling. He looked at William, at the kind eyes, the gentle smile, the genuine concern etched on his face. "No, don’t be sorry. I—" He hesitated hesitated. But he reconsidered. They already came this far, and they didn't have enough time left for pretense. He wanted to be honest and raw with William. For these next few days, no matter what would happen. "I-I really liked it."

William's lips slowly stretched into a wide, genuine smile, his eyes sparkling with fresh delight.

He leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Est's forehead, then leaned doen, lightly brushing their noses together— a promise, a silent understanding passing between them.

They didn't talk about the kiss anymore, the unspoken understanding lingering comfortably between theml. The atmosphere in the room, once heavy with tension, settled into a comfortable, easy warmth.

After a relaxed silence, broken only by the distant hum of the ship's engines, Est remembered something, his thoughts already drifting to their next encounter. "Are you performing tonight, William?"

William shook his head, a faint smile on his lips. "No, not tonight. Except you mean at the lower decks."

"Oh—." Est said, eyes falling in slight disappointment but his demeanor quickly changed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Then join me for dinner." It wasn't a request, didn’t really seem like Est was giving him a choice.

For Est, it an open defiance of the rules that separated them. A way to have him close, visible, in his world.

William's smile widened, his eyes meeting Est's with a playful glint, accepting the offer. "I'd be honored, Phi Est."

Later that evening, William, looking strikingly handsome in his neat suit, was ushered into the Grand dining saloon, his presence a subtle ripple among the elegant crowd.

He smoothly took a seat at Est's family table, a move that Est admired, elation running through him.

He was introduced to Earna and Est’s mother who was delighted to have him over, along with a few other distinguished First Class guests sat at their table.

The guests, curious about the Lower Class musician who performed for the elite, began to pepper William with personal questions about his background, his journey, and his dreams— some polite, others less so, their curiosity thinly veiled.

Est, subtly but firmly, brushed off the more intrusive questions, seamlessly redirecting the conversation with practiced ease, protecting William from the uncomfortable spotlight, a protective instinct he didn’t know he possessed.

Underneath the pristine white tablecloth, William's hand found Est's thighs, his fingers squeezing gently. In quiet thanks or daring mischief? Est could not tell.

He just knew the concealed touch sent warmth through his veins.

William gave Est a quick, knowing smile, his eyes full of gratitude, a silent thank you for his protection, a silent acknowledgment of their shared secret, their hidden world amidst the luxury.

Est's cheeks flushed a deep red as he quickly sipped his drink, trying to appear nonchalant, the warmth of William's hand a stark contrast to the coolness of his glass.

He was completely unaware of Earna’s prying eyes, watching them, a subtle awareness beginning to form on her face, a seed of suspicion slowly growing.

The night wore on, a blend of polite chatter and secret desire, a testament to the delicate line between their two worlds, and the dangerous beauty of their connection.

Chapter Text

After dinner, the grand dining Saloon slowly emptied, the last of the guests drifting away to the smoking room or their private suites.

William walked Est back to his suite, the polished corridors now hushed and sparsely populated.

Their walk was free of the usual curious gazes of other guests and watchful servants. William’s in his neatly tailored suit—simple compared to Est's formal wear, his quiet confidence and the easy fluid grace with which he moved, allowed him to blend in with the few remaining guests.

The silent grandeur of the corridors felt like a secret tunnel, leading them deeper into their own private world, a bubble of shared intimacy.

They arrived at Est’s door, the polished mahogany floors gleaming under the faint soft lighting of the light fixture.

Est quietly shut the door, walking slowly towards him as William moved to pick his guitar from where it rested by the small table.

William paused, his hand already on his guitar case, but he hesisted, then turned—eyes fixed on Est, a silent question in their depths, a hunger that mirrored Est's own.

Est’s lingered too, unwilling to break the spell, his heart pounding with an unsteady rhythm.

Without a word, he reached out, his hand cupping William’s cheek, his fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw, pulling him in. Their lips met— passionate, hot, and intense, a desperate hunger after the act, the pretense they'd laid at dinner.

The kiss was deep, consuming, as if they were trying to breathe each other in, to absorb every last trace of each other.

Est’s fingers tangled in William’s dark hair, pulling him closer, lips pulling, teeth nipping and tongue exploring. He tilted his head to the side, deepening the kiss, his fingers tugging as their bodies pressed together.

They kissed until their breaths came in ragged gasps, until the taste of each other, a mix of wine and something unique, was the only thing that mattered.

They pulled away, chests heaving, eyes wide and pupils dilated with shared desire, the air around them thick with unspoken longing.

“Don’t go…” Est breathed, chest heaving. He didn't want him to leave, not now, not ever. His fingers tightened on William's suit jacket, a silent, desperate plea, a despairing cling.

"I have to.” William, just as breathless, murmured, gazing down at Est with eyes full of want. “I'm performing tonight, remember?" His voice was low, tinged with regret.

Est's eyes fell, his reminder a cold splash of water, extinguishing the fire that had just ignited between them. The magic of the moment had evaporated, leaving only tense silence.

A sigh escaped Est, heavy with disappointment, and he looked at William again. “Goodnight.” He whispered, with a smile that didn't meet his eyes.

“Goodnight.” William responded. Not sad, just reluctant.

He didn't make a move to leave, his feet rooted to the spot, and their interlocked gaze didn't waver, a silent conversation passing between them, a desperate cling to elongate their time together, the connection that bound them.

Then, a smile formed on William’s lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes, that playful spark that Est found so irresistible. "You know… you could always come watch me perform tonight.”

Est’s eyes widened, a flicker of excitement replacing the disappointment, the tight knot in his chest into something more full and freeing. “Okay.” He whispered, light as air.

“Be there by eleven?"

“Okay…”

“Do you need me to come get you?” William offered.

Est only nodded in negation, biting his lip, afraid his voice would give away the bubbling feeling blossoming in his chest.

William smiled, a soft, tender expression and then leaned in to kiss him again— pecking Est's lips once, twice— quick, feather light touches, a lingering promise that sent shivers down Est's spine. Their breaths mingled, their noses bumped. It was all sweet and tender.

His fingers closed around the doorknob and twisted, its click a signal of his coming departure.

But Est wasn't ready to let go. He kissed William back, nipping, biting, suckling. He cradled his face in his hands, his thumbs stroking William's cheeks, tracing the line of his jaw. He kept his eyes open, memorizing every line and curve of his face, every flutter, every twitch, every expression. He lips moved of its own will, unwilling to let him go. His sweet, lingering acts of affection that made his heart flutter and ache at the same time, a silent plea for more time.

The door opened just a crack under William's touch, and he pulled away with a soft chuckle— a cocky, pleased grin spreading across his face, his eyes sparkling with amusement and adoration.

He gave him one last long peck then took a step back. “See you later, Nong Luk Est.”

Est huffed playfully, rolling his eyes at the endearment. “Later, I dek auan.”

William's eyes flashed with surprised, brow raised in questioning at the new nickname.

Est brows wiggled in answer.

William chuckled, shaking his head in feigned annoyance, a silent promise f to get back at him for the endearment.

He finally disappeared out the door, the soft click of it closing behind him

Est moved, almost floating, his body light with happiness, and he cracked the door open, just enough to peek, and watched William spin and skip down the hall, his lips curving at the sight, a fluttery ache in his chest.

He closed the door, leaned back against it, lids tightly shut, hands clutching his shirt over his heart as he let out a soft groan.

What was William doing to him?

He walked over, a dazed smile on his face, and practically fell on his bed, looking over at the clock on the bedside table.

It was just past nine.

William wouldn't perform until eleven. The party wouldn’t truly start until them.

He lay there, restless.

The wait was excruciating. Time ticked slow, almost painfully so. He counted every agonizing second, every minute, every hour, until he could be with William again.

By 10:10, Est couldn’t wait any longer.

He changed out of his formal attire and into his disguise— the now familiar rough, shapeless shirt, baggy trousers, worn boots and his faded black cap.

He slipped out of his suite, moving like a ghost through the hushed, deserted A-Deck corridors, the silence broken only by the creak of the floor underneath his boots.

He descended the Grand Staircase lightly, each step bringing him closer to to William. He navigated the passages of the ship's lower decks, the air growing warmer, thicker, filled with the burning scent of coal, sweat, and cheap tobacco.

Low, faint sounds of distant music and laughter grew louder, pulling him forward like a siren's call, away from the grand silence of his own world, towards the vibrant colors that shaped William’s world , towards William himself.

He crept down the quieter servant corridors, slipped past the pantry stairs, and emerged into the humid hum of the Third class general room, where music already spilled through the air.

The crowd was buzzing, the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer, pipe smoke, and uninhibited human energy.

Men and women, laughed, swayed and stomped to the catchy tunes of an old cook with a fiddle, his face flushed with sweat, his bow sawing furiously, sweat beading above his brow.

Est pushed himself into the crowd, feeling the press of bodies, the vibrant energy that emanated from the crowd.

He moved to a less crowded corner and through the swirling, swaying bodies. William spotted him instantly, as if drawn by an invisible thread.

A wide, genuine smile lit his face, transforming his features, and he moved towards Est with easy confidence, pulling him into a warm, tight hug that that caught Est off guard.

“You made it” He said, smile unwavering.

“I did.” Est responded, breath stolen.

William then took him by the arm, guiding him through the dancing bodies, over to meet his roommates.

"Boys!" William called over the noise, voice tinged a hint of pride and possessiveness, his hand casually slung over Est's shoulder. "This is my boss… P’Est He's here to party with us."

Est felt a deep blush creep up his neck, self conscious under the musicians curious, amused gazes, under William’s possessive arm, but he maintained his composure, forcing a small, polite smile.

The musicians greeted him with hands outstretched. He gave them small, awkward nod as he learned their names and shook their hands.

“Soft skin.” The one called Nut commented, making Est’s cheeks burn.

“You’re the one that's got P’Jak over here moving around our corner in some fancy pants. I thought one of us was in some deep shit, I was getting ready to flee. ” Lego, joked making the men burst out in laughter.

“Yes, you owe us a drink for that Bossman.” Hong said, grinning.

Est just nodded, quiet, unsure how to respond, feeling utterly out of his element, a fish out of water

“Come on guys, you're making him uncomfortable.” William chided.

They chuckled, teasing him good naturedly, urging him to ease up, to join the fun.

“Relax, Est…” Tui said, handing him a drink. “We don’t bite.”

William leaned close. “It’s not the fancy stuff you’re used to, but it’s strong.”

Est looked at the frothy amber liquid warily. It was nothing like the expensive wines or champagne he was used to—the smell sharp and yeasty, completely alien.

The men around them watched, curious, their grins widening, anticipating his reaction.

With a deep breath, he took a small, tentative sip and his face scrunched in distaste at the bitter, unfamiliar taste.

William chuckled, reaching to take the mug from him, a playful gesture, but Est shook his head, a sudden, surprising stubbornness rising in him, a desire to prove himself.

He lifted the mug and downed the rest in one impressive gulp, the rough, burning liquid searing a trail down his throat, making his eyes water.

The men erupted into loud cheers.
“Ohhh he’s one of us!” They roared, slapping him carefully on the back with approval. Laughing and clapping, they dragged him to the open floor where people danced in tight, joyful circles.

Tui and Hong tap danced to an Irish Jig singing at the top of their voices. Lego tried to pull Est in, but Est hesitated, laughing nervously.

William danced beside the others with graceful, practiced ease, his body moving like it was made for the music. Est watched— captivated, head bopping subtly, a quiet spectator in a room full of rhythm.

Soon, everyone was engrossed in the party, lost in the music and the raw energy that pulsed through the room. Even though Est mostly stood there awkwardly, a wallflower amidst the joyful merrymaking, he kept his eyes on William, mesmerized.

William noticed, a secret smile played on hus lips from across the room, his eyes secretly gazing at Est— a soft, possessive warmth in their depths, a silent acknowledgment of his presence.

He found his way back to Est, eyes locked on him— a silent invitation in his orbs and began to dance stylishly around him, his movements graceful and fluid, making Est blush, warmth spreading through him.
William’s eyes held a silent question, an Est’s had an answer.

Just as William was about to pull him in, someone called out, “Guitar, Will!”

He turned to Est and whispered. “Be right back, don't go anywhere” He said.

Est nodded.

Then he jogged off to grab his guitar.
leaving Est feeling a slight twinge of disappointment, but also a thrill of anticipation for his performance.

The cook's fiddle song ended to loud roars and applause, and soon William stepped onto the makeshift platform, guitar in hand, a natural, confident, and utterly captivating presence.

“Good evening everyone.” He greeted the guests, his voice clear and strong over the murmuring crowd, instantly commanding their attention. “Hope y'all are having a good time?”

The crowd cheered in response.

One of the guests, a boisterous woman with a laugh as loud as the roar of the crowd, called out. "What's your name, handsome?"

William grinned, his teeth flashing white in the dim light, his eyes twinkling with charisma. "My name is William Jakrapatr…" He announced, his voice ringing with pride and a hint of playful swagger. "And I'm a singer." He strummed a few chords.

🎶And this song’s mine —🎶 He sang.

🎶I wrote it a long time ago.🎶

Another chord.

🎶In the slums of New york, where the gents and the broads were my only home.🎶

More claps and coos.

🎶 They call me lover boy. I was young and I was loose. A man stole my fiddle once, so I laid with his wife Sue.🎶

Est coughed then blinked, looking around to see if any body caught the racy lyrics. None was perplexed. He remembered William’s words, about how nobody cared for decorum when it wasn't laid out bare. Naked. Exposed… And suddenly, he felt more at ease.

The room came alive — stomping feet, hips swaying, hands clapping.

🎶When I was fourteen, I was young and dumb as hell,
Loved a older boy who made my head swell.
He kissed me like sin, and smiled like wine.
I would have climbed a mountain, all just to make him mine.🎶

The women swayed their hips, their bodies moving sensuously to the blues, wrapping their arms around the strong necks of the men, their bodies pressed close, the men moving and holding them, lost in the music and the moment, completely unrestrained.

A lady, early twenties with a knowing smile and eyes that weren't shy, moved to Est, circling him seductively, her hips swaying to the music, her gaze direct. “Wanna dance, honey?” She purred

Est politely shrugged her off, his gaze already fixed on William, a fixed intensity in his eyes. He silently moved to the bar, seeking a small refuge, a place where he could watch William, utterly captivated by his raw talent, his magnetic stage presence, the way he commanded the room.

William's voice soared, filled the room, a powerful, emotional current that seemed to electrify the entire crowd, making the very air crackle. And Est couldn’t take his eyes off him.

He ended his song to mass applause, an uproar of appreciation that shook the very foundations of the deck. Est clapped too—his hands stinging, completely enchanted, oblivious to everything but William, the music, the freedom of it still echoing in his soul.

Est spent the next twenty minutes by the bar, carefully sipping his second beer so as not to get drunk, conversing casually with the barlady—a kind, weathered woman with a wide smile—and watching William.

William was performing another song now, a lively jig, his guitar skills dazzling, his energy boundless.

A lady, bold and carefree, danced with him, her movements fluid and suggestive, She moved close— close enough to rattle Est, a sharp, unexpected pang of jealousy building in his gut, a bitter taste rising in his mouth.

He finished his drink in one gulp and turned away, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, his jealousy stinging, a burning sensation in his chest that he couldn't ignore.

He didn't watch the rest of the show—the vibrant music now sounding hollow, scraping, a grating noise.

Soon, William ended his performance to another burst of mass applause, the sound a distant roar in Est's ears, barely registering over the unease within him.

A few minutes later, he appeared beside him at the bar, his face flushed with exertion and excitement, his eyes bright with the adrenaline of the performance. "P’Est?" He called, his voice full of genuine pleasure, completely unaware of Est's inner turmoil. “You're still here.” He noted. He knew he would be and his presence filled him with a warmness be couldn't explain.

“Hmmm.” Est hummed, quiet and strangely distant

William quickly caught on. "Are you okay?”he asked, soft, concerned.

Est, still feeling the prickle of jealousy, tried to compose himself, to appear nonchalant. "I'm fine." He said, his voice a little too flat, too quick, betraying his true feelings despite his efforts.

William— sensing the shift in Est's demeanor—tilted his head, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion, his smile faltering. "Did something happen?" He asked, unsure.

Est shook his head.

He blinked, puzzled. "Hmm okay…do you want something?"

“No.” Est shook his head again, bare audible, his gaze fixed on his empty glass, unwilling to meet William's questioning eyes.

William frowned, bewildered, his earlier joy dwindling under Est's sudden coolness.

Est sighed, finally meeting his eyes. The tension was unbearable, a thick, suffocating blanket between them. "I want to go." He murmured.

William's confusion only deepened further, but he only nodded."I'll walk you back." He said. He would seek an explanation.

Est silently agreed, moving past him towards the still swaying crowd.

~~~

They moved in silence, tension thick between them.

Through the deserted corridors of the lower decks, the lively music faded behind them, leaving a tense, heavy silence in their wake. The air grew cooler, the sounds of the engines less pervasive as they ascended through the ship's levels, their footsteps echoing softly in the quiet.

As they approached the dark,,empty hallway that led to the Grand Staircase, William grabbed his fingers and pulled him into a dark corner, brows furrowed.

He looked into Est's eyes, his gaze searching, concerned, trying to decipher the reason for Est's sudden bad mood. His hand gently cupped Est's chin, urging him to look at him.

Est avoided his gaze, staring at the polished floor, unable to meet the intensity of William's stare, fighting the lump in his throat.

"P’Est… Did I do something wrong?" William murmured, his voice laced with genuine worry.

A beat passed.

Est force the lump down, a bitter taste of jealousy and remorse. He took a steadying breath, letting a brief silence stretch between them, filled only by the distant hum of the ship and the frantic beat of his own heart.

“No…” He finally whispered. “I’m just…jealous.” He admitted, looking down at his feet, the confession harder to voice than he had thought, a raw, vulnerable truth laid bare, exposing a side of himself he never showed.

"Why?" William asked, his voice gentle— his thumb stroking the back of Est's hand, which he still held, a comforting, delicate touch. "Is it because of Liz? The singer? We’re just friends, Phi Est." He squeezed Est's hand with his rough palms, urging him to open up, to trust him with his feelings.

Est finally met his eyes, a deep blush creeping up his neck, onto his face, embarrassed by the raw admission, but unable to lie. "I'm not jealous of her…" He confessed, his voice barely above awhisper, but firm, resolute. "I just— I… I wanted to dance with you." He gaze averted, his cheeks burning, feeling exposed and vulnerable, yet strangely liberated.

William’s blinked at first, quickly processing his words, his unease melting away. His grin formed slowly— utterly smitten, and his eyes shone bright in the dark room, strangely pleased by Est’s unusual jealousy.

“Come with me.” He said, tugging Est forward.

He lead him out of the dark corner and into the open hallway, right in front of the grand steps where the full moon, shining through the high windows, illuminated a perfect circle on the polished wooden floor, casting a perfect spotlight.

William moved forward, leaving Est momentarily in a shadowy dim spot, and stepped into the center of the light. He turned around, facing Est, and began to sing, his voice a gentle, low melody, but audible enough in the empty hallways…

🎶 You know I want you, it's not a secret I try to hide. I know you want me, so don't keep saying your hands are tied. 🎶

Est heart jumped, his breath caught and he made to shush him, eyes wide. “William, stop! Someone will hear!”

But William kept singing softly, eyes locked on him. Unwavering, pouring all his emotion into the lyrics, his voice holding Est's captive in a silent dare.

He reached out his arm to Est, an invitation, a challenge to step into the light with him, to abandon his fears.

Est shook his head, his heart conflicted, a painful tug of war within him.

Flee or Fall?

He debated with himself.

A small, logical part of him wanted to leave the crazy situation behind, to run back to the accustomed safety of his suite, of his world. Because out here in this open space? Anybody could see them, anybody could hear. Even though his world was a prison, it was free of hate, of judgment.

However, a bigger, more powerful part of him, the part that yearned for freedom and connection, wanted him to run and fall into the safety of William's outstretched arms, to embrace the danger, the rush, and truly be free, for once in his life.

He didn't register when he took the first step, his feet betrayed him. He took another step, then the next, his feet moving of their own accord, drawn by an irresistible force, until he was right in front of William, who was still singing, his voice a warm, steady current, pulling Est into his spotlight.

He lightly place his fingers in William's, gently clasping it. William pulled him close, firmly, chest to chest, their bodies molding together, a perfect fit. William adjusted Est's cap, turning it behind his head so he could see his face clearer, his eyes burning with adoration.

He guided Est's hand to his shoulder and locked their hands together before swaying them forward, moving them with effortless ease—one step forward, one step back—slow, gentle, perfect.

William sang the lyrics low, his eyes never leaving Est's, a silent conversation unfolding between them, a dance of souls.

They soon moved, clumsy and uncoordinated, around the hallway, lost in their own world. William stumbled, Est stepped on his feet. Twice. They laughed like teenagers everytime William had to catch his breath, or everytime he sang off key but caught himself, the grand hall their makeshift ballroom under the full moonlight.

But even with all the imperfections, it was perfect. Something warm and full that bloomed in their hearts.

Est wrapped his hands more closely around William’s neck, pressing their foreheads together, his breath mingling with William's, the world outside them fading into oblivion, leaving only the two of them.

William still sang, his tired lungs and uneven breaths barely holding the tune but his voice was a soft, continuous melody in Est's ear, a confession, a song of their blossoming feelings.

🎶All I want is to fly with you…🎶

William had wrapped his arm firmly around Est's waist and now swept Est off his feet and around the floor with surprising strength, making Est laugh, a bubbling unrestrained sound, that echoed softly in the grand hall, a sound of pure joy and liberation.

🎶All I want is to fall with you…🎶

Another turn. More laughter.

🎶So just give me all of you…🎶

They kept dancing, even more expressive now, William flipping him over, a playful twirl that made Est gasp with delight and Est pulled himself closer, fingers sliding easily across his face, his neck, clinging to him, their bodies moving as one, a seamless, passionate dance of two souls finally finding their rhythm.

🎶Changing the world to be ours…🎶

William lifted Est effortlessly, hands secure under his hips, looking up at him with a eyes full of adoration. Est clung to his shoulders, eyes down at him, cheeks full of unbridled joy, heart full of promise. He felt completely free, completely alive, soaring in William's arms.

🎶 You know I want you, it's not a secret I try to hide. I know you want me, so don't keep saying your hands are tied. 🎶

William finished the last line with effortless grace, his voice a soft, resonant hum, still holding Est up, their eyes locked, a silent unsaid truth passing between them.

Est blushed, a deep, beautiful flush spreading across his face. A beat passed, then another, then he looked away, smiling and tapped William's shoulder. "You can put me down now, William." He said, a happy laugh bubbling up, his voice light with joy.

William gently placed him down, his hand still firmly on Est’s waist, unmoving, unyielding.

Est leaned his forehead against his. "Thank you…" Est murmured, his voice soft with gratitude, his heart overflowing with a feeling he couldn't quite name, but knew was precious. "That's something I've always wanted to do. With someone who…mattered." Soft, true and free.

William blinked, startled at the confession, the weight of Est’s words and he smiled and kissed him sweetly, a soft, tender press of lips, a fleeting moment of pure affection, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Est's confession.

Then, taking Est's hand, he moved him up the grand staircase, their steps light, their fingers intertwined. As they ascended, a drunken guard’s flashlight swept across the now empty hallway behind them…

At Est's door, they lingered awkwardly, fingers still laced.

Est was still shy, his cheeks flushed, his eyes bright with unspoken emotion, a mixture of exhilaration and nervousness.

William was flushed too, his body still humming from having Est’s body so closely pressed against him, the memory of their dance a rush, a lingering warmth.

Est asked, nervous. "Do you… want to come in?" Soft, hopeful, unwilling to let William go, desperate to prolong his stay. He didn't want the night to end. Not now. Not ever.

William his eyes lingered on Est's inviting gaze, his mouth parted to accept, to cross that threshold. But he shook his head, a painful reluctance in his voice. "I want to, Phi Est, but I shouldn't."

Est's eyes dropped, and William saw the flicker of disappointment, his heart aching in response.

He moved in softly and pressed a tender kiss on Est's cheek, a gentle caress that lingered, a silent promise of future meetings.

Breath caught, Est gently touched his cheek, the feeling still lingering.

"Good night, P'Est." William said softly, his voice full of unspoken affection

Blushing crimson, Est scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit. “Goodnight, William.” He murmed, gaze fixed on William

Their fingers— unwilling and hesitant—slowly unlaced. Like two magnets pulling apart.

William walked backwards, never looking away from Est, his smile a tender farewell, a promise in his eyes.

Est leaned into the doorframe, watching hum, their gazes locked, unwilling to break apart, until William finally turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

Est closed his door and leaned against it for the second time tonight, breath caught and heart pounding loudly in his chest, a joyous, frantic rhythm.

He realized with terrifying certainty that the blossoming feeling in his chest, the overwhelming warmth and longing, it meant something. Something pure, and real and… terrifying. With sudden, astonishing clarity, he knew….

He was falling. No — he’d already fallen.

Chapter Text

That night, sleep came fitfully for Est, highlighted by vivid dreams of moonlit dances and whispered promises.

He woke up with a flutter in his chest, light as air, a certain glow about him. He carried on his usual routine, with ease, warm and bright and in his mind, he counted down the hours until he could see William again.

Meanwhile, deep within the ship's lower decks, William sat on a stool next to the bunk.

He didn't sleep well. In fact, he hadn't slept at all. He sat quietly in the small, cramped room he shared with the other musicians, hugging his knees to his chest, deep in thought.

Around him, they were engrossed in their own activities, lazing about in the hot hours of the late morning.

Nut and Hong quietly conversed in hushed tones, their heads close together. Tui was nowhere to be found, out doing whatever Tui did.

Lego, however, was on his bunk, an arm behind his neck, carefully watching William, studying him with a keen, knowing gaze.
"Penny for your thoughts, William?" He voiced out, breaking the comfortable silence.

William blinked at the sudden question. Then sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair. "I’m jus— I'm just thinking, Lego."

"Care to share?" Lego pressed, his eyes unwavering.

"It's nothing," William mumbled, trying to dismiss him.

"It's not nothing…" Lego countered, a soft smile on his lips. "You're never quiet, William. But your silence is somehow even louder today."

William let out a short, self deprecating laugh. "Am I that obvious?"

"Yes…" Hong cut in, his voice soft, catching on, his conversation with Nut momentarily forgotten.

Nut looked over and nodded in agreement, his gaze curious, inquisitive.

William hesitated for a long, drawn out moment of internal vonflict. He looked at their faces, seeing the genuine concern, a quiet invitation to open up.

He took a deep breath, his feelings burning up, too strong for him to keep inside. "I fell for someone…" He began, his voice barely above a whisper. "Hard."

He momentarily paused, searching for the right words, the words that could convey the change, the shift in him. "This is different. I feel for them in ways I never knew I could before. This feels... real. True." He looked at them, his eyes filled with a mixture of wonder and slight hint of despair.

"But they're... they're engaged to someone else. And they're from a world so different from mine. Every moment we share together, it feels like a ticking time bomb. Stolen, dangerous." He ran a hand over his face, a raw admission of vulnerability. "I know it's impossible, its not going to lead to anything good but I can't seem to let go. And I don't know what to do. I don’t how to handle these feelings." His voice cracked slightly on the last words, the weight of his confession heavy, weighing in on him.

Lego listened. Then smiled. A slow, understanding warmth spreading across his face. "Is it Est?" He asked, his voice gentle, almost a whisper, but firm.

William blinked, surprised by how direct the question was. But he didn't feel fear. He looked around at the others, Nut and Hong, who quietly waited for an answer that would never come, their eyes fixed on him, expectant.

Hong, sensing William's hesitation, his doubt, spoke up, his voice kind and understanding. "You don't have to answer us, William. We get it. But if it makes it any easier..." He reached out, lacing his fingers around Nut's, a silent, powerful gesture of their own hidden bond. "Nut and I are together. We've been together for a very long time."

The news surprised William, left him speechless, his mind reeling.

He'd known a number of queer people in his life, from his own personal encounters which had been fleeting moments in the shadows, quiet conversation in the dark.

For him, it had always casual hookups in dirt streaked alleys or abandoned corners of a city. That part of him that was momentary, brief, never meant to last.

But with Est, it stayed. It grew. And now, it was explosive, an uncontrollable force that threatened to consume him.

He looked at Hong and Nut, down at their intertwined fingers, a testament to a quiet, enduring love he hadn't dared to dream of for himself.

"And I dabble in a little bit of cross dressing myself." Lego confessed, his voice calm, faint blush on painting his cheeks, but his eyes held a quiet pride in them. "It isn't just for performance, you know. Sometimes, it's for me. A way to feel... more like myself. To explore who I am, away from all society’s expectations. It's a kind of freedom, in its own way. A way I've found joy and comfort when the world felt too small."

William listened, but remained quiet, absorbing their confessions, the unexpected honesty. He looked at Lego, then at Hong and Nut, a warm spread flowing through him, a sense of belonging he hadn't anticipated.

"Does Tui know?" He finally asked, his voice soft.

"He does…" Hong said simply, with a gentle smile. "And he accepts us for who we are, and we him. We're family here, William. A different kind of family, maybe, but family nonetheless."

A brief pause.

Then he cut in again, his voice turning more serious, practical. "Like I said, you don't have to tell us anything you don't want to, but if it's him... I'll be honest with you. The two of you? You're from two different worlds. And with this impending marriage, it only going to makes things more complicated.”

Silence.

“People like us don't get to love openly..Not if we want to be safe, not if we want to survive. But we can love quietly, William. That's all we can do. And I don't think Est is the person to give you that. His world won't allow it."

William noddedin understanding, the harsh reality settling in his chest. His eyes were forlorn, reflecting the pain of a love that was doomed from the very beginning. "So what can I do?" He asked, his voice raw with sadness.

"End it." Nut said, simply, his voice firm but kind. "End things with him, before you fall even harder. Before it breaks the both of you."

“I don't know if I can do that.”

"I know it's hard, it seems impossible now" Lego added, his voice soft, sympathetic. "But you'll get over him. Time heals…and you will too."

William didn't think that was true.

He didn't think he could get over Est.

Est, who had eyes like deep, dark pools that held a galaxy of unspoken longing. Est, whose long, delicate fingers, had trembled when he touched William. Est, whose soft, pale skin flushed so beautifully with every blush, revealing every emotion he held. Est, whose shy smiles slowly bloomed into expressive laughter when he felt truly free. Est, who tasted like expensive wine and desperate longing.

Est, who, in his clumsy attempts at guitar, had shown a hidden sweetness, a willingnessxto learn. Est, who, despite his privileged upbringing, carried a quiet sadness, a yearning for something free, something more real. Est, who had dared to come to the lower decks, to his world, just for him. Est, who had admitted his jealousy— his raw, vulnerable confession that had both thrilled and terrified William. Est, who had kissed him back with fierce, hungry passion that had left William breathless and utterly consumed. Est, who, in his fear, still clung to him, still wanted him.

Est, who was a prison of a man, desperate to break free, and William, a wild bird, suddenly found himself wanting to be caged, if it meant being with him.

"Think on it, brother. Take your time." Nut patted him softly on the shoulder, his touch a comforting reassuring gesture.

William nodded, falling back into his thoughts, his words echoing in his mind.

Afternoon came shortly, time for their long abandoned guitar lessons, and William moved to the A-Deck, a slow, tormenting march towards a decision he was already regretful of.

He walked slowly to Est's suite, each step a heavy weight for him. He'd made up his mind, or so he told himself. It was better to rip the band aid off, to sever the tie quickly before he fell even harder.

He was let into their section by a polite steward— his heart frantically drumming against his ribs, and he walked up to Est's suite, where he knew Est would be waiting for him, open and yearning. He took a calming breath, trying to steady him— his resolve, then knocked.

The door gently opened, revealing Est, who stood there with a smile that took William's breath away— radiant, glowing. It cut through William's already carefully constructed walls, his set defense.

Est's dark eyes, took William in—in his clean white shirt neatly tucked into his trousers, the way the tailored fabric hung just right on his hips, complimenting his tall, lean frame, his messy hair that fell into uneven perfect waves across his face, his eyes that held a faint warm glow in them.

Est's gaze travelled low, lingered on William's lips, lips that kissed him like a blessing, kissed him like sin. Then it swept over his handsome face, a quiet appreciation of his striking features.

He let him in— his hand cradling the door, and William stepped inside, counting silently in his head, mentally preparing for the difficult conversation he was about to have.

But when he turned to face Est, Est was already on him— lips smashed on his so fiercely, it knocked the breath clean out of him.

Est kissed him with his eyes closed, pouring every ounce of his feelings into the kiss, a raw, unrestrained outburst of his affection.

His lips were soft but demanding, pressing against William's— seeking, taking.

William kissed him back, his own eyes open, watching Est, memorizing the look on his face— his flushed cheeks, the light flutter of his laushes, the light parting on his lips.

Est's hands ran through William's hair, pulling him closer, tugging at the full, thick strands. Their tongues met, roaming, tasting, exploring. His hands moved to William's jaw, cradling his face, his thumbs tracing sweet, clingy patterns on his skin.

He pushed William back onto the bed, straddling him, his movements fueled by raw, passionate instinct. He didn't know what he was doing, what was proper, but he let his feelings lead, guide him.

He kissed William's hair, burying his face in its softness— inhaling, memorizing scent. and then, he trailed hot, open mouthed kisses to his ear, nibbling and sucking on it— making William take a sharp, involuntary breath, his eyes finally fluttering closed, losing himself in the intense, pleasant feeling.

Est ran his tongue through William's ear—flicking and tasting, then, with trembling fingers, undid the top button of William's collar, slipping his hand inside to the warm skin beneath, fingertips exploring,feeling.

His mouth trailed hot kisses down William's neck— hungry, craving. He found a sensitive spot just under William's jaw, and kissed it, sucking on it gently.

William’s eyes flew open with a jolt, and his senses snapped back to him, their realities crashing in on him. If they took this any further, if he allowed this to continue, he feared there would be no going back.

No way to protect Est, no way to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak. It took all of William's restraint, every ounce of his willpower, to stop.

He reluctantly moved his head away from Est's neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Phi Est…" He murmured, his voice raw, srained.

Est looked down at him, lips red and swollen from their kisses, his usual put together hair now flying in different directions, his face flushed.

He looked ruined, utterly wrecked, and it took all of William's resolve to hold back from wrecking Est more, from taking what he was freely offering.

"Is something wrong?" Est breathed the question out, his voice soft, laced with confusion and a hint of fear, his eyes searching William’s.

William looked at Est, those honest, perfect eyes— wide and brimming with desire that mirrored his own, and he couldn't do it. He couldn't bring himself to break things off, to ruin this beautiful, fragile moment.

The words "Let's end this" sat heavy on his tongue and he couldn't bring himself to utter those melancholic, heartbreaking words. Instead, he said, voice rough with raw emotion. "Are you sure, Phi Est?"

Est leaned his head forward, pressing his forehead against William’s, his breath warm against his skin.

He breathed the "Yes" like a prayer, almost reverent, leaving no room for doubt. And then Williams lips were on his again.

This kiss was surrender— soft, delicate, a gentle meeting of lips, but it quickly deepened into a hungry tangle of tongues and breath.

William’s hands moved from Est’s waist to his hips, pulling him in, their bodies grinding together with raw urgency. Est moaned— arching, clutching William’s shoulders, his hair, everything, anything to pull him even closer.

William tasted Est— sweet, intoxicating and he knew he could never forget it. The taste, the flavors that made him up.

With a surge of strength, he lifted Est effortlessly, flipping him onto his back on the soft bed, hovering just above him.

Est gasped, his eyes wide, then they closed back in pleasure, a rush running through him. He tried not to think about William's strength, how he carried him like he was weightless, how it did things to him, his body, made him hot and boneless, melting into the mattress.

William’s lips moved to Est’s neck, leaving hot, wet trails. He inhaled the clean scent of Est— masculine yet subtle, delicate— now mingled with desire.

Est burned with need and all he could think of was how he wanted to touch and be touched, how he wanted to feel every inch of William's skin against his own. How he wanted to see what William hid underneath those layers of fabric, to peel away every piece of clothing. How he wanted to feel skin on skin, hot and slick.

With trembling fingers, he undid the buttons of William’s white shirt, his fingers fumbling with the small, stubborn buttons. He pulled the tucked shirt out from his trousers, eager to reveal the skin underneath.

William leaned up between Est's legs— his eyes burning with desire, and took the fabric off, slowly, deliberately, letting the shirt fall to the floor.

Est eyes trailed, hungry and mesmerized, breath catching, mouth dry at the sight of his bare chest— the light pink nipples, the taut muscles, the soft trail of dark hair that led lower to other unexplored areas.

William leaned down and kissed him again—slow, deep, reverent, his tongue tasting, exploring, a silent promise of what was to come. The sound of them kissing filled the room — wet, desperate, hungry, drowning out the distant chatter of the elite outside, the hum of the ship below.

Their bulges pressed against each other, the friction almost unbearable, Est thought like he would die if William didn't touch him. He needed William hands on him like he needed to breathe.

As they lay there, mouths still devouring each other, Est took William’s hand and guided it to his body, wordlessly begging for his touch, seeking comfort and relief, skin on skin.

He arched into William, a soft moan escaping him, as William’s kisses trailed from his lips, down his jaw, to the sensitive skin of his neck. His deft fingers found the top button of Est’s shirt, pulling it open, then leaning lower to suck gently on his nipple, pulling a sharp moan from Est’s lips, a fresh wave of pleasure shooting through him.

Est's eyes closed— lost in the sensations, his head tilting back against the pillows, silently surrendering himself to the pleasure.

A loud moan, uneven, almost strangled, tore from his throat when William’s hand slipped into his trousers— his rough, calloused fingers fingers wrapping around him with a firm, warm grip— sending shivers through his entire body.

"Phi… You’ll have to be quieter if you don’t want any one to hear." William whispered, his voice rough with desire, his lips still pressed against Est’s skin, a breathy murmur.

"I'm trying…" Est panted, his body trembling, hips bucking against William’s hand. "Don’t stop… kiss me." The words were a breathy whisper against William’s neck, his hands pulling William closer, burying his face in William’s hair, desperate for more.

William captured his lips again in another consuming kiss, swallowing the moans that spilled from Est’s lips. His hand kept stroking, finding the rhythm that made Est tremble and whine, a delicious, throbbing ache.

But when his thumb teased the sensitive tip of his hard, leaking cock, Est gasped, a sharp cry— loud, raw, unrestrained. He tensed, overpowered by the sheer intensity of it, the overwhelming sensation he couldn't handle.

"Stop!" He gasped, pushing weakly at William’s shoulder. "Please, stop."

William immediately stilled, his movements halting, his body tensing in response. He pulled back slightly— eyes still dark and heavy lidded with desire, but now it held a flicker of disappointment, a longing that Est didn't miss.

Est noticed. And guilt pierced quickly through him, a wave of regret. "I'm sorry." He whispered, voice thick with shame and frustration, his cheeks flushed.

William didn't speak for a moment, just gazed at him, understanding slowly replacing the disappointment in his eyes. Then he leaned his forehead gently against Est’s, warm skin to warm skin, a comforting closeness. "I want you, Phi. You're driving me mad." He murmured, voice heavy with suppressed lust and frustration.

"I want you too…" Est confessed, voice thick with emotion, raw and honest. "But we can't risk getting caught. It'll ruin us. Everything"

William lifted his head slowly, eyes burning, an idea forming within. "What if… there’s somewhere else. Some where private? Where no one can hurt us." His words were simple. A promise. A challenge. A way to be together, truly, if only for stolen moments.

Est's breath caught. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement, the weight of William’s words washing over him.

They were really going to do it. Take that next step. One of no return, a leap into the unknown. "Okay…" Est breathed, the word one of acceptance, a quiet surrender. "When?"

"Tonight…" William said softly. "After midnight. Meet me by the grand stairwell. Everyone will be asleep."

"Okay…" Est repeated, breathless, a shiver of nervous excitement running through him, the quiet thrill of their plan settling within him.

William leaned in, pressing another deep, lingering kiss to his lips, sealing the promise between them.

The rest of the day was a blur. Guitar lessons forgotten, swallow by the intense anticipation of what lay ahead.

The hours that led up to nightfall, to the call where everyone would be asleep, were once again excruciating for Est. Every minute stretched into an eternity.

He faced his usual routine for the remainder of the late afternoon and evening in a constant state of arousal, his body humming with a desperate, unfulfilled need. He was haunted by William’s hands, lips, the pressure of their bodies pressed together.

He counted down every second, every minute, every hour, until he could be with William. Fully. Completely

When night finally came, cloaking the shop in inky darkness, he dressed in his disguise. He studied himself in the mirror, suddenly feeling self conscious, a nervous flutter in his chest. But he braced himself and got ready. For what was to come.

He grabbed a small pouch that held a small cloth and a tiny, dark glass bottle of olive oil, which he slipped into the pouch carefully.

His heart hammering against his ribs, he slipped out of his suite, moving like a ghost through the hushed, deserted First Class corridors, each step echoing in the dead silence.

He stood at the top of the grand staircase, his eyes searching the vast, empty room for William or anyone else who might be on the watch, his senses alert, wary

Emerging from the shadows, at the very bottom, bathed in the faint glow of the moonlight, was William. He stood just below, waiting, and it was like the world shrank go just the two of them.

Est walked down slowly, aware of every movement, every step and William’s unwavering gaze on him.

William’s eyes swept over him, watching Est walk towards him—the careful steps, the nervous tension in his movements, the subtle grace with which his body moved.

And in that moment, it was like he was seeing Est for the very first time, stripped of his titles and wealth, just a man walking towards him. Even in his shabby clothes, Est's fair skin shone bright in the moonlight, his features refined and delicate, and in William's eyes, he looked so devastatingly beautiful, it almost bled out of him him.

William held out a hand to him, open, inviting, a silent question. A promise.

Est hesitated for only a second, his eyes darting around to make sure there were no watching eyes, no hidden figures in the widely spaced hall, Then, taking a shaky breath, he gently placed his palms in William’s.

He felt the reassuring warmth of William's strong fingers closing around his, a silent promise of guidance and protection, a lifeline.

He let out another shaky breath, fear and anticipation pooling in him, his mind a disarray of emotions, and let William lead him as he turned and went deeper into the darkness of the ship's labyrinthine passages, into his secret world.

William guided him, their fingers still lingering, their steps loud in the dark, silent corridors, their bodies moving in sync.

With each deck they descended, the air grew warmer, thicker, the clean sea breeze now replaced by the smell of oil, metal, and burning coal.

The hum of the ship's powerful engines grew louder— a deep, stable vibration that resonated through the wooden floor and into their legs.

William led him down dimly lit corridors, until they reached a more private path where no crew members would pass at this hour.

Here, William pulled Est fully by the hand, guiding him carefully, his touch firm and reassuring. They stopped at a heavy, unmarked door.

He pulled a small, rusty key from his pocket and unlocked it with a quiet click. He pushed it open just enough for them to squeeze inside, then closed it softly behind them, plunging them into near darkness. He quickly turned on a small, dim overhead light, casting long shadows across the spce.

The small room was cramped with crates and canvas sacks, stacked high against the walls, leaving little room to move. The air was heavy, hot, and thick with the smell of something pungent and metallic that Est could not name.

The roar of the engines was a powerful presence here, the almost deafening sound swallowing up every other noise. The cramped room was not clean— dust covered every line of space his eyes could see.

"Here…" William murmured, his voice close to Est's ear, almost swallowed by the engine's buzz. "No one comes here at this hour."

The heat in the small space was intense, pressing in on them, almost suffocating. Within moments, a light sheen of sweat began to coat their skin, making their clothes cling, uncomfortably so to their skin. Their breaths were heavy, hearts drumming in anticipation, ag unsteady, nervous rhythm.

Est, nervously handed the dark pouch to William, who took it from his slender fingers, his rough ones brushing Est’s, sparks flying at the light contact. His eyes, even in the dim lighting, searched Est's for any hint of doubt, any flicker of fear.

He saw none, only a raw, nervous but eager longing that matched his own, a shared desire to be together.

He placed the pouch on a dusty shelf next to him.

Then, he gazed at Est again, his eyes burning with desire, before leaning in, and capturing his lips in a kiss.

The first kiss was slow, soft, an easy, gentle exploration. William’s lips were skillful, exploring, inviting. Est’s own lips parted, responding, eager.

Asoft gasp escaped him as the kiss deepened, quickly growing heated, hungry, desperate.

Their hands fumbled at buttons, at rough fabric, eager to shed the layers of fabric that separated them, to feel skin on skin.
Clothes dropped to the grimy floor, stepped on or forgotten.

They stared at each other's naked skin in the low lighting, studying every sculpted line of flesh, every angle, every curve, eyes dark with hunger.

Est placed a hand on William’s chest, grasping the firm muscle, feeling the strong beat of his heart.

He exhaled with relief and almost raw yearning in his eyes. Relief at finally being able to have something he'd denied himself his entire life. Something he could have now without fear or judgment, without the weight of societal norms or his family’s expectations.

William looked at Est like he was the most beautiful thing in the world, his gaze filled with adoration, a silent worship of the shapes that made up Est.

"Look at you…" He whispered, his voice thick with awe, his eyes tracing every inch of Est's beautiful form.

His mouth trailed down Est's neck, leaving a hot, wet path. He kissed the sensitive skin behind Est's ear, then the sharp line of his collarbone, making Est tremble with a new kind of pleasure.

His lips moved lower, teasing a nipple, then sucking it gently, drawing a soft moan from Est, whose hands gripped William's shoulders, knuckles white, holding on for dear life.

William then knelt, deftly undoing his fly and slipping the worn trousers down his strong, shapely legs. His warm breath fanned Est's inner thigh, and he gazed at the trail of soft hair that led to his hardened length.

He licked his lip—wetting them before he took Est's rigid cock into his mouth. The sensation was immediate, overwhelming, completely new— a jolt of pure pleasure.

Est gasped, head tilted back, a sigh escaping his lips, hips bucking instinctively.

William sucked— hot and wet, tongue flat and cheeks hollow, and Est's body trembling violently as waves of pleasure, raw and intense, crashed over him, threatening to consume him.

His fingers found his full head of hair, tangling and tugging, anything to restrain the madness that threatened to rip out of him, to keep him grounded.

He didn't last long, a low groan tearing from his throat as he came— hot and messy, into William's mouth, completely surrendering himself over.

William swallowed, then stood, spinning Est gently around to face the cool metal of a large crate, his touch firm— not tender but not quite rough.

He pressed wet kisses along Est’s shoulder blade, down his spine, grabbing the small pouch. He pulled out the smalls glass bottle, unscrewing the cap and slicking his fingers with the fragrant olive oil.

He pressed a soothing kiss into Est’s skin as he pushed a single digit into him, gently, carefully, the penetration slow and deliberate.

Est’s body tensed, taking in sharp breaths. William waited, stroking his now damp skin, soothing and comforting, whispering soft, quiet reassurance to him.

He slid a second finger in, slow and careful. He searched Est’s face for any hints of discomfort or doubts, any sign he'd changed his mind. When he found none, he slid in a third, carefully scissoring him open, stretching him.

Est let out sharp, painful grunts and soft moans, his body trembling with the new sensation, and William whispered light, consistent words of encouragements, his warm breath fanning Est’s ear, a steady reminder of his presence.

He kept stroking his skin, his steady movement easing Est's tension, until his fingers hit that distinct pleasure spot deep inside. Est’s head arched back, a loud moan tearing from his throat, his mind a haze of bliss.

He reached back, his fingers tangling in William’s dark hair, begging. "Please…Do it. Now."

William didn't make him wait. He couldn't. He pulled back, just enough to coat himself in the oil, slicking his own pulsing cock. Then positioned himself, and slowly, steadily, pushed into Est.

A low moan escaped him as he pushed in inch by inch, feeling the friction, before the tight inner walls of Est sheathed him completely— warm and perfect. He paused, buried to the hilt, giving Est time to settle, to adjust to the new, alien fullness, pressing soft kisses on his humid skin.

"Are you okay? Just breathe, my Est. You're doing so good." His voice was a low, soothing murmur, a calming balm.

Est finally managed a soft, almost breathless. "Move."

And William did. Slow at first, careful, his movements shallow, and then his movements gained traction, fierce and hungry as Est body fully opened up to him, responding to his thrusts, urging him to move faster.

Est let out soft, suppressed moans at first, his head thrown forward against the crate, his hands gripping the cool metal.

But as William’s rigid length began to graze every pleasure spot inside him, Est didn't hold back. Couldn't hold back. The cries and the sighs slipped out of his mouth freely, uninhibited, muffled by the roar of the engines beneath their feet.

Est’s hands cupped William’s face from behind, pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss, their mouths open, tongues dancing.

William’s strong hands stroked Est’s glistening, sweat soaked body, caressing his abs and tracing the hard lines of his abs, his firm thrusts relentless.

William hit him deep, again and again, until a tight ball of pressure built within Est's body, waves and waves of the pleasurable sensation surging in him, and he exploded with William’s name on his lips, spurting hot burst of cum at the crates in front him, his body tense and shuddering.

William fucked him still, now slow and deep, until he came shortly afterwards— a low, growl ripping from his throat as he quickly pulled out, spilling his sperm on Est's back. He dropped soft, wet kisses onto Est’s hot, trembling skin, whispering low words of praise, their bodies shaking with the aftermath of their lust.

Their bodies were still uncomfortably warm in the heat, slick with sweat and oil and cum. William gently wiped Est off with the towel— careful, soothing, before turning him over to look at his beautiful, sated face.

Est’s eyes shone with contentment, a soft flush creeping up his damp skin, visible even in the dim lighting. William pressed his forehead against Est’s, eyes locked on his, searching for an answer, a deeper connection than the one they shared mere minutes before.

"You’re mine now?" He whispered— his voice raw with emotion, a hopeful delusion.

Est was quiet.

Even though he knew what William was asking was impossible, he couldn't deny the truth in his question, the way the words were uttered.

No matter where he was, even if they were apart, he would be always be his. Truly and completely.

He nodded at William, a silent cconfession, not trusting his voice to convey his answer properly. Liam’s lips curled into a relieved smile, his face a soft, tender expression.

Then he leaned in again, capturing his lips in another soft, lingering kiss.

They spent a few, long minutes kissing deeply, softly touching, unable to get enough of each other, their fingers tracing long paths on each other’s skin, memorizing the feel, the texture, savoring every moment.

Finally, reluctantly, they got dressed and William walked Est back through the deserted passages, their bodies still humming with the pleasant aftershocks of their earlier tryst.

They soon arrived at the A-Deck, just in front of the Grand Staircase.

There they stood, their fingers clinging still— lingering, unwilling to say goodbye, prolonging their inevitable, imminent departure.

“Walk me to my room?” Est voiced the request, eyes yearning, clinging.

William gave him a small, almost imperceptible smile. “If I do, I won’t leave.” He murmured.

Est move closer. “I don't want you to leave.” His voice was raw, his yearning bleeding out if it.

“We have tomorrow. The next. The rest of our lives—” His voice trailed off, the sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “Let’s just be careful, for tonight.”

Est’s shoulders dropped and he looked down at their still interwoven fingers, a sudden wave of melancholy washing over him. He wanted to tell William to stay, wanted William to walk him a few extra steps, wanted to tell William to kiss him, to hold him tight and never let him go. Instead he said…

“Goodnight William.” His voice a hushed, reluctant whisper.

William smiled, that small, slow smile that left him utterly breathless. “Goodnight, My Est.”

Est’s gaze lingered another minute before he slowly turned away— his heart aching with a new kind of longing, a bittersweet longing, and he slowly walked up the stairs, his feet dragging, his eyes occasionally looking back to stare at William.

William stood there, his gaze fixed on Est— silent, guarding, until Est disappeared from sight.

Then with a long heavy sigh, he dug his hand into his pockets and walked away, past the long stairways that separated their two realities, back to his own world.