The ride to the reception was shorter than Phuwin expected—twenty minutes of winding coastal road, the sea flashing between trees, and a stop at a lookout point where everyone piled out for photos. The girls arranged themselves against the railing, white dresses catching the wind, and Phuwin stood at the edge of the group, the S necklace warm against his chest beneath his new top.

He'd changed in the car, shedding the long white trail and the veil gloves, trading them for a fitted black top that sat just above his hips. The high-heeled boots stayed. The rings stayed. The necklace stayed, always the necklace.

When they finally pulled up to the estate beach house, the reception hall was already humming—low lights, the clink of glasses, the damp wool smell of the coastal air mixing with spilled champagne. The marble floor was slick with melted ice underfoot, and someone had strung fairy lights across the ceiling that made everything glow gold.

Phuwin stepped inside and stopped.

There was Pond, sitting on the edge of a chair near the cake table, one ankle crossed over his knee, scrolling through his phone. The white suit fit him like it had been sewn onto his body, and the gold chain caught the fairy lights every time he moved. He looked up, scanning the room for someone—and when his eyes found Phuwin, his whole face shifted. Soft. Private. Like a door opening.

Phuwin pulled out his phone and took the picture.

Pond blinked at the flash. "Did you just—"

Phuwin was already walking over, smiling down at the screen. The photo was good. Really good. Pond mid-look-up, caught between surprise and that soft private thing, the fairy lights making his jaw look like something carved.

"My wife is already making trouble," Pond said as Phuwin sat down next to him.

"Yes, I am." Phuwin turned the phone toward him. "Look how pretty you are."

Pond looked at the photo, then at Phuwin, then back at the photo. His ears went pink. "You're going to use this as your wallpaper, aren't you."

"Obviously."

Pond chuckled, low and warm, and reached over to brush a strand of hair from Phuwin's forehead. The touch lingered half a second longer than necessary. "You changed."

"The trail was getting in the way of dancing."

"Dancing?"

Phuwin tilted his head toward the dance floor, where a few couples were already swaying to something slow. The four-tier cake stood at the edge of the room, white and layered with pearls, waves and rings piped into the frosting. Little photos of them—Pond and Phuwin at the beach, at the bakery, at the estate—were pressed into the sides like windows into their own life.

"It's time to dance now," Phuwin said.

Pond smiled. Not the cocky grin he wore for crowds. The real one, the one that made Phuwin's chest feel too small. He held out his hand.

Phuwin took it.

Pond helped him up—one hand around his waist, the other still holding his fingers—and led him onto the floor. The music shifted, something slower, and Pond pulled him in close enough that Phuwin could feel the warmth of him through both their clothes.

"You're a terrible dancer," Phuwin said.

"I'm an excellent dancer."

"You're stepping on my feet."

"That's because you keep moving them."

Phuwin laughed, the sound catching in his throat, and Pond spun him once—badly, almost sending him into a waiter—before pulling him back against his chest. Phuwin's heart was doing something stupid in his ribs.

"I love you, baby," Pond murmured against his hair.

Phuwin's face went hot. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Being—" Phuwin gestured vaguely. "Like that."

"Like what? In love with my wife?"

"Pond."

"What?" Pond's grin was audible. "I'm just stating facts."

Phuwin buried his face in Pond's shoulder, hiding the blush. "You're insufferable."

"And you married me anyway."

"Mistake."

"Liar."

Phuwin laughed again, helpless, and let Pond sway him in a slow circle. The fairy lights blurred overhead. The sea crashed somewhere beyond the open doors. For a moment, the world was just this—Pond's arms, the warmth of his chest, the rings pressing together where their hands were interlaced.

Across the room, Siyh watched with a smirk on her face.

She turned to Tai, who was standing beside her with a glass of champagne, watching the dancers with a soft expression. Siyh leaned in and kissed her—not quick, not teasing. A real kiss, the kind that made Tai's eyes go wide.

Tai pulled back, cheeks flushed. "What was that for?"

"You looked pretty."

"This is not our day."

"All we had to do was ask for half the cake and wear our dresses and walk down an aisle," Siyh said, gesturing at the happy couple. "Seems easy enough."

Tai smacked her on the head.

"Ow!" Siyh clutched her skull, staggering dramatically. "Abuse! I'm being abused at a wedding—"

"You're being dramatic."

"Same thing."

Tai just looked away, but her lips were twitching. Siyh kissed her cheek, quick and light, and got up. "I'll be back."

"Where are you going?"

"To cause problems."

Tai sighed like she'd heard that a thousand times. She probably had.

Siyh crossed the dance floor with purpose, weaving through couples and waiters, until she reached Pond and Phuwin—still swaying, still murmuring to each other, Phuwin's face still that shade of pink that meant Pond had said something embarrassing again.

"Hold up!" Siyh yelled.

Phuwin jumped so hard he nearly tripped over his own boots. "Shit—Siyh. What the fuck—"

"I want to dance now."

"What?"

"You heard me." Siyh crossed her arms. "Pond's had enough time. My turn."

Phuwin stared at her. "It's my wedding. Tai is your girlfriend. Why don't you ask her?"

"Because she looks mad at me, and I can't bother my baby." Siyh's smirk widened. "Can I, now?"

"You're bothering me and my baby."

"And yet here I am."

Pond chuckled, low and warm, and pressed a kiss to Phuwin's temple. "Go dance with her. I'll watch."

Phuwin looked at him. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm always on your side. That's why I'm letting you go before you start pouting."

"I don't pout."

"You're pouting right now."

Phuwin's mouth flattened. Pond kissed his forehead, and Siyh grabbed Phuwin's wrist and towed him away before he could argue.

Phuwin stumbled after her, shooting a look back at Pond—who was already watching him, a small smile on his face, one hand raised in a little wave. Phuwin's heart did that stupid thing again.

"Stop looking at him like that," Siyh said. "You're going to make me vomit."

"You're the one who pulled me away from my husband."

"For a good reason."

Siyh dragged him through the crowd—dancing, talking, eating, the whole reception a blur of white and gold and laughter—until they reached the DJ booth. She leaned over the table and said something to the DJ, who nodded and started scrolling through his laptop.

"What did you just—"

The music shifted. The slow, swaying ballad cut off mid-note, replaced by something with a heavy bassline and a beat that hit like a pulse.

Phuwin stared at Siyh. "You're joking."

"I haven't seen you throw it back in a while." Siyh's smirk was pure menace. "You don't mind, do you?"

Phuwin smacked the back of her head.

"Ow—"

"THIS IS MY WEDDING. GOT THAT?" His voice rose over the bass. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WANT ME TO THROW IT BACK? ARE YOU OKAY? YOU PULLED ME AWAY FROM MY HUSBAND TO TELL ME THIS?"

"Yea." Siyh nodded, completely unbothered. "No duh."

Phuwin stared at her. The beat thumped. The fairy lights spun. Somewhere behind him, he could feel Pond's gaze like a brand on the back of his neck.

"Fine," he said, and his mouth curved into a smirk.

Siyh grinned and grabbed the other girls—Jaaro, Tai, Mint, Kioer's girlfriend, a few more friends Phuwin didn't catch the names of. She pulled Jungkook up too, who was mid-conversation with Taehyung and went stumbling onto the floor with a laugh.

The dance floor filled. The bass dropped.

Santa, Pond, Taehyung, and Godji watched from the edge of the room.

Phuwin moved like he'd been waiting for this all night. His hips found the beat immediately, his body rolling into it, the black top riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin. Jungkook was beside him, matching his energy, laughing as they fell into the rhythm together.

And then Jaaro got behind Phuwin.

She dropped low, tongue out, hands hovering near his waist as she matched his movement—pounding it from behind, an air-humping parody that made half the room howl with laughter. Phuwin threw his head back, laughing, and kept going. Mint got behind Jungkook, and the two of them made it a competition.

Pond's face changed.

It wasn't anger. Not quite. It was something darker, something hungry, his jaw tightening as he watched his husband move on the dance floor with Jaaro pressed up behind him.

Godji watched him watch. She crossed her arms, a knowing smile on her face. "Pond. You're actively watching your wife throw his ass back, and Jaaro is pounding it from behind." She tilted her head. "You should go show them. You too, Taehyung."

Taehyung, who had been staring at Jungkook with the same hungry expression, snapped his head toward her.

Godji raised an eyebrow.

Pond looked at her. Taehyung looked at her. Then they looked at each other.

"Got you, Aunt Godji," they said in unison.

They moved across the dance floor like they'd been waiting for permission. Pond reached Phuwin first, sliding in behind him, his hands landing on Phuwin's hips with a grip that said mine. Jaaro took one look at his face and backed off, laughing.

"Wife," Pond murmured against Phuwin's ear. "Having fun?"

Phuwin's breath caught. "Maybe."

"Maybe." Pond's hands tightened. "You know I was watching."

"I know."

"You did it anyway."

"I did." Phuwin's voice was steady, but his heart was slamming against his ribs. "What are you going to do about it?"

Pond's laugh was low, rough, close enough that Phuwin felt it in his spine. He pulled Phuwin flush against him, his chest against Phuwin's back, and started to move.

Phuwin's eyes went wide.

Pond could dance. God, he could dance. His hips moved with a rhythm Phuwin hadn't known he had, guiding Phuwin's body like they'd done this a hundred times. The crowd around them whooped and hollered, but Phuwin couldn't hear any of it—just the bass, just Pond's breath against his ear, just the press of his body.

"You're a terrible dancer," Phuwin managed.

"Liar."

Phuwin laughed, breathless, and let himself move.

Nearby, Taehyung had reached Jungkook, who lit up at the sight of him. Mint backed off with a grin, and Taehyung slid into her spot, his hands finding Jungkook's waist with a confidence that made Jungkook's ears go red.

"You looked good out here," Taehyung said.

"I always look good."

"Yeah, you do."

Jungkook's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. "That—that was smooth."

"I've been practicing."

"On who?"

"On you." Taehyung's voice was softer now, the bravado slipping. "Just you."

Jungkook looked at him for a long moment. Then he smiled—that warm, open smile that made Taehyung's knees weak—and pulled him closer.

From the edge of the room, Godji watched the two couples with a satisfied smile. She turned to Santa, who was standing beside her, glasses slightly fogged from the warmth of the room.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Godji asked.

Santa's ears went pink. "He'll be here."

"Will he?"

"He said he would." Santa adjusted his glasses, not quite meeting her eyes. "He got held up."

Godji's smirk widened. "I hope I don't hear him fucking you in the bathroom later on."

Santa made a strangled sound. "Aunt Godji—"

"I'm just saying." She crossed her arms, amused. "These walls are thin."

Santa's blush deepened to a shade that nearly matched Phuwin's. He opened his mouth to respond, closed it, and settled for staring at the dance floor with intense concentration.

Godji laughed, warm and bright, and patted his shoulder. "I'm teasing, baby. Enjoy the wedding."

She walked off toward the cake table, leaving Santa standing there, red-faced and grateful for the dim lighting.

On the dance floor, the song shifted again—something slower, the bass easing into a groove. Pond's hands were still on Phuwin's hips, but the movement changed, the dance becoming something closer to swaying. Phuwin turned in his arms, facing him, and looked up.

"You're not mad?" he asked.

"About what?"

"The dancing. Jaaro." Phuwin hesitated. "The “throwing it back.""

Pond's mouth curved. "I'm not mad."

"You looked mad."

"I looked jealous."

"Same thing."

"No." Pond's hand came up to cup Phuwin's jaw, his thumb brushing over his cheekbone. "Jealous is different. Jealous is me wanting everyone to know you're mine." His voice dropped. "And you are."

Phuwin's breath caught. "I am."

"Mine."

"Yours."

Pond kissed him. Not the quick peck from earlier—a real kiss, slow and deep, the kind that made the room disappear. Phuwin's hands came up to grip the lapels of Pond's suit jacket, holding on like he might float away.

When they broke apart, the crowd around them had erupted in cheers and wolf whistles. Phuwin's face was on fire.

"Stop it," he whispered.

"Never."

Pond kissed his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth. Phuwin laughed, helpless, and buried his face in Pond's chest.

"I love you," he murmured against the white fabric. "Even though you're insufferable."

"I love you too." Pond's voice was warm, steady, certain. "Even though you make me jealous on purpose."

"I don't—"

"You do."

Phuwin looked up at him, eyes bright. "Maybe a little."

Pond laughed, full and genuine, and pulled him closer. The song wound down, the bass fading into something softer, and they swayed together in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by everyone they loved.

Across the room, Siyh had returned to Tai, who was watching her with an unimpressed expression.

"You're a menace," Tai said.

"I'm your menace."

"Don't use that on me."

"Too late." Siyh kissed her cheek, quick and light. "You love me."

Tai's lips twitched. "Unfortunately."

Siyh grinned and pulled her onto the dance floor.

The night stretched on, warm and golden, the fairy lights spinning overhead. The cake sat untouched on its stand, the photos of Pond and Phuwin smiling out at the crowd. The sea crashed somewhere beyond the open doors, steady and eternal, like a promise.

And in the middle of it all, Pond held Phuwin close, his lips pressed to his hair, and whispered, "I'm going to love you for the rest of my life."

Phuwin's eyes burned. "You better."

"I will."

Phuwin closed his eyes and let himself believe it.