Gun knocked on the door to his son-in-law's room. "Are you there, Bright?" he called softly. A faint hum of acknowledgment prompted him to push the door open. Bright lay propped up against the headboard, his face pale and framed by exhaustion. The tension was palpable in the room. The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room.

"Win had to head to the clinic today," Gun said, his voice carrying a hint of apology. "His assistant's on holiday, so he's got his hands full." Bright gave a short nod, averting his eyes. Despite their silent war, Win still took care to inform Bright about his errands-an act that kept their strained connection intact. Even in their quarrels, Win couldn't neglect Bright's health.

Gun approached with a tray in his hands. "I'm on breakfast duty today," he said with a forced lightness, setting the food down carefully. "My son insists I take good care of you."

"Thank you, Pa." Bright's lips curled into a small smile, but it lacked warmth. His eyes told a different story-one of fatigue and loneliness. Gun's heart sank. Both Win and Bright wore their exhaustion like heavy coats. Whatever had happened between them was taking its toll, and as much as Gun wanted to stay out of it, he knew he had to intervene.

"Bright," Gun said, his tone turning gentle but firm. "What happened between you and Win?"

Bright flinched, caught off guard by Gun's bluntness. He hadn't expected him to be so direct, though the tension in the household had grown impossible to ignore. Except, perhaps, for Chimon, who seemed oblivious in the way only children can be. Bright saw a glimmer of opportunity. Gun was a good man, and if he played his cards right, he could gain an ally in mending-or manipulating-things with Win.

"Pa, I-I don't know how to say this," Bright stammered, dropping his gaze. He reached for Gun's hand, squeezing it with just the right amount of desperation. "Please, just listen to me. I need you to understand... Please, Pa."

There was a flicker in Bright's eyes that suggested vulnerability, but beneath the surface, his mind was calculating. Bright needed Gun on his side, and he knew just how to tug at his father-in-law's heartstrings. Gun leaned in, concern etched into every line on his face. Whatever lay beneath their fight, he was determined to find out.

"I know I'm being selfish with this, Pa," Bright said, his voice low and tinged with a mix of guilt and vulnerability. He glanced away, unable to meet Gun's eyes. "I-I kind of tried to push Win into making a decision."

Gun's eyes narrowed slightly, his brow furrowing-not quite sure if it was confusion, disbelief, or a mix of both. But he remained silent, waiting patiently for Bright to continue.

"It's almost two years since we got married," Bright continued, his voice trembling just a little. "You know how much I love him. And... I know he loves me too." There was a pause, heavy and fragile. "I just wanted us to start a new chapter, Pa. I wanted us to have a child-to bring that joy into our lives. I got so wrapped up in the idea that I kept bringing it up, over and over."

The truth burned on Bright's tongue, and he swallowed hard. He had only thought about adopting yesterday, a desperate attempt to anchor Win to him, to make it harder for him to walk away. Call it old-fashioned, but Bright believed this could work-if only Win would agree. He sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on him.

"Forcing a decision isn't the right way, boy," Gun said, his voice firm but laced with empathy.

Bright nodded, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "I figured that out-the hard way, Pa." He forced a half-smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Gun leaned back, his expression softening as he took in his son-in-law's pain. "Bright," he said gently, "sometimes, when we love deeply, we stumble trying to protect it." He reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Bright's shoulder. "You'll figure this out-together." He tried to silently promise to talk to Win and ease the tension. With a comforting squeeze, Gun rose and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

As the latch clicked shut, Bright's expression shifted. Vulnerability faded, replaced by a smirk that didn't quite hide the storm brewing beneath. He turned his head slightly and caught sight of himself in the mirror. The reflection that stared back was almost unrecognisable. When had he become this person? Manipulative, desperate-a man who would twist words and emotions to keep hold of what he feared losing most. This wasn't him. Or at least, it hadn't been.

His eyes glistened, a single tear trailing down his cheek. He swallowed hard, fighting the bitter taste of regret. How did it come to this? How had love-his love for Win-warped into something so desperate and ugly?

But he couldn't turn back. The old Bright would have let Win go, would have put his happiness first, even if it broke his own heart. But now? Now, he couldn't imagine a life without Win. He couldn't lose him, not for anything. He wiped the tear away, hardening himself once more. Whatever it took-he would keep Win. He had to.

....

"Morning, Mr. New," Perth greeted as he entered the kitchen, his steps light and his face fresh from the morning air.

"Good morning, Perth, and just 'New' is fine," New replied, flashing a playful smile as he wiped the last bit of dust from the dining table. "I'm not as strict as a certain someone," he added under his breath, leaning in slightly, making sure the words were only for Perth's ears.

Perth raised an eyebrow but grinned, amused by the playful jab.

"I heard that, New," came Tay's voice from the kitchen, cool and composed. He didn't bother raising his tone; there was no need to get angry. After all, it was his own husband making the comment, not a stranger.

New chuckled and shrugged, unfazed. "You're too easy to provoke, Tay," he teased, still smiling as he set the rag down. Tay's voice may have been calm, but New could feel the amusement hiding just beneath. It was always like this-friendly bickering, the quiet rhythm of their mornings.

Perth shook his head, unable to hold back a laugh. "I think I've been caught in the crossfire."

"Ah, ah, this is the everyday telecast of bickering we watch, Perth. Don't be too surprised," Nanon's voice chimed in, suddenly appearing out of nowhere. He leaned in from behind Perth, resting his chin on his shoulder as if he'd been there the whole time.

Perth jumped slightly, not expecting the sudden presence, but quickly relaxed when he realised it was just Nanon. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really do pop up like a ghost sometimes."

Nanon just grinned, enjoying the teasing. "Hey, I've got to keep things interesting around here." He winked at New, who rolled his eyes with a smile, and at Tay, who merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed but clearly not bothered.

"Perth, you've just been introduced to the daily circus of the Vihokratanas," Tay said dryly from the kitchen, as he poured hot water into a mug. "Brace yourself. By the way, is Pluem up?" Tay asked, glancing over at Perth as he took a sip of his warm water.

"Yeah, he should be down in a few minutes, I guess," Perth replied, looking over toward the stairs. Just as he finished speaking, Pluem and Drake appeared at the bottom of the stairs, followed closely by Frank and Ohm.

"Good, all the boys are here now," New announced, standing up with a smile. "Let's have some breakfast."

Pluem gave a polite smile and nodded as he took his seat at the table.

"Pluem, after breakfast, I, your papa, and you are going somewhere," Tay said, his voice warm and affectionate.

Pluem nodded again, his expression calm. "Yes, dad."

"I wanna join too!" Nanon suddenly raised his hand, eager to be included.

"Nope. Just me, your dad, and Pluem," New said firmly, and when his tone grew serious, no one dared to argue-not even Nanon. It was one of those rare moments when Tithipoom's words were final, and Nanon knew it.

Nanon sighed, crossing his arms, though he didn't press the issue further. "I hope you boys find some fun yourselves while we're gone," New added, giving the group a knowing look.

Nanon shot him a playful glare, but everyone knew it was just part of the usual dynamic. It didn't take long before they all settled into the comfortable hum of breakfast, a quiet ease that made the mornings together feel like a little bit of home.

....

Drake had been noticing it since the moment he stepped out of the bedroom and ran into Frank in the hallway. Frank had been avoiding him-speaking little, keeping his distance-and yet, the glares he shot Drake throughout breakfast were anything but subtle. Now that Frank's parents were out with Pluem, Frank's silent hostility seemed to only intensify.

Drake couldn't hold it in any longer. With a sigh, he stood up from his bean bag and muttered, "God, what did I do wrong now?" His words were aimed at no one in particular, but it was clear to everyone who they were directed at.

Nanon didn't hesitate. "Oh, something new? You always do something wrong!" he shot back, a sly grin spreading across his face, eyes twinkling with a mix of mischief and challenge as he stared down Drake.

Drake opened his mouth to fire back, but before he could say anything, Frank spoke up sharply, cutting him off.

"Enough, Non. Stop being childish. Don't always tease or you won't like it if he returns the favour to you, you know," Frank said, his tone firm, and a look of warning in his eyes.

Nanon immediately fell silent, knowing better than to push further when Frank spoke like that.

Drake blinked, momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected Frank to take his side, especially not after the way Frank had been acting. A small, grateful smile tugged at his lips. It was a simple gesture, but it meant more to Drake than he'd admit out loud.

For a brief moment, the tension in the room shifted. Frank's stance softened ever so slightly, though the weight of his earlier glares remained. Still, Drake couldn't help but feel a little relieved. Maybe things weren't as bad as he thought.

....

"Woah... You never took us here! What's this place, Dad?" Pluem asked, his eyes wide as he took in the surroundings. The house was old, with a quaint charm, nothing overly grand or extravagant, but it had a warmth to it-a homely, familiar vibe that immediately put him at ease.

Tay looked around briefly before answering, his voice soft but steady. "It's our ancestral home."

Pluem raised an eyebrow, glancing at his father with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. "And yet you never brought us here?"

Tay hesitated, his gaze lowering for a moment before New answered in his place. "Because there are many bad memories tied to this place. We didn't really want any of you to come here. But now, we thought it was time you should be introduced to it."

Pluem's brow furrowed, the weight of his parents' words settling in. His gaze drifted to the creaky wooden floor and the timeworn walls, feeling the quiet echoes of history within them.

"This is where we got you, baby," New said, his voice gentle, as though trying to ease the burden of the truth he was about to share.

Pluem's eyes widened, and in that moment, everything clicked. He stared at his parents, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. The realization was heavy, yet simple. This was where they found me. The place where they had come to bring him home, a place with a past too painful to revisit often, but one that had shaped the family they were today.

He didn't say anything immediately. The silence hung between them, thick with unspoken emotions. But in his heart, he felt a shift. The history of this house, the sacrifices it had witnessed, became part of his own story too. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a quiet "Oh" escaped him, the spark of excitement he'd felt earlier fading into an unexpected void.

Seeing Pluem's sorrowful expression sent a jolt of panic through TayNew. Their chest tightened, and New quickly reached out, his voice carried a tone of regret. "Sorry, love. We didn't bring you here to make you feel sad."

Pluem managed a small smile at New's words but it quickly faded. "I know, Pa. It's just... it's hard to swallow that I was unwanted," he said softly, his voice trembling with the weight of his feelings.

New's mouth opened, ready to protest, but Tay moved faster, stepping closer to Pluem. "What? Unwanted? Pluem," Tay said firmly, his eyes locking with his son's. "You are the one who made me a dad. You're my first child. You're not unwanted-you're needed. We need you in our lives, baby. More than you'll ever know."

Pluem's lips quivered, and silent tears slipped down his cheeks. He looked at Tay, raw emotion shimmering in his eyes. "Then why did they leave me, Dad?" he whispered, his voice breaking. "Why did my mom and dad abandon me?" His sobs escaped as he fell into Tay's embrace, clinging to him desperately.

Tay wrapped his arms around Pluem, holding him tightly, as if shielding him from every ounce of pain the world could throw his way. "I don't know, baby," Tay murmured, his own voice heavy with grief. "But whatever their reasons, it was their loss. Because you... you are everything."

Tay glanced at New, and their eyes met, sharing the same deep worry and pain for their son. New moved closer, wrapping his arms around them both, their embrace a wall of warmth, love, and protection. "We're here," New whispered. "Always."

In that moment, the pain didn't vanish, but Pluem knew he wasn't facing it alone. He felt their love surround him, more powerful than the wounds of the past, a reminder that he belonged-and was deeply, deeply loved.

....

"So, you're mad because I didn't change rooms," Drake said, a huge, teasing grin stretching across his face. His eyes sparkled with mischief, fully aware he was pressing all of Frank's buttons.

Frank rolled his eyes, feigning indifference. "Ughh... whatever! I'm leaving," he declared, turning on his heel. But before he could take a single step, Drake moved swiftly, trapping him with his arms.

They stood beneath the broad canopy of the mango tree, the warm breeze rustling its leaves. Sunlight dappled their faces, but Frank's expression was all storm clouds, though his heartbeat betrayed him. Drake leaned in slightly, his grin softening but his eyes still playful.

"Leaving, huh? I don't think so," Drake murmured, his voice low, carrying a mix of challenge and affection.

Frank's breath hitched, but he refused to meet Drake's gaze. "Let me go, idiot," he muttered, but the heat rising to his cheeks said otherwise.

"I'll let you go, but before that, I need to tell you something," Drake said, his expression turning serious as he loosened his grip. Frank stopped struggling, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sudden shift in Drake's tone. Drake knew he had to explain himself, to clear the air before Frank's emotions spiraled into assumptions and misunderstandings. But there was a complication-he couldn't reveal Pluem's condition. So he chose another truth.

"You remember," Drake began, his voice steady, "my motto to join our university was for looking for someone?"

Frank nodded, though confusion flickered across his face. He tilted his head slightly, as if to say, What does that have to do with their current situation?

Seeing Frank's bewildered expression, Drake pressed on. "It's about Perth. I came for Perth."

Frank's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing. "Perth?" he echoed, clearly struggling to make sense of it. "What does Perth have to do with any of this?"

Drake took a deep breath, bracing himself for what he was about to reveal. "He's my brother."

....

A/n: So, some of you might've guessed that Perth is Drake's cousin. Well, plot twist-he's actually his brother! Yep, you heard that right. Family secrets, anyone? Turns out things are a lot more tangled than they first seemed. Your votes and comments mean the world! So, let me ask-can anyone guess Pluem's story? Drop your theories in the comments. I'd love to see what you all come up with!