Daotok carefully moved two tall chairs, aligning them in front of the wall filled with doodles and patterns he and Arthit had created together. The space was intimate, every brushstroke a shared memory. Nearby, Arthit adjusted a few final props, his movements methodical, yet soft with purpose.
"Is this enough?" he asked, stepping back to evaluate the setup.
"Perfect," Daotok replied with a small nod, surveying the view from a distance. The composition felt right—it looked like them. This angle captured the essence of their life together.
Today wasn't just another day—it was their pre-wedding photoshoot. But instead of fancy studios or scenic landmarks, they chose the place where their love grew day by day: their apartment. They wanted something honest. Something real. Something that told the quiet, beautiful story of two people who loved each other through ordinary days.
Typhoon had agreed to shoot the session. Other friends had come to help set things up, arriving right on time with lights, gear, and warm smiles. It had been almost a year since Arthit proposed. Their wedding plans had unfolded gradually—measured and thoughtful—while Daotok worked toward his graduation. With his degree now freshly in hand and their marriage certificate signed just a month ago, the timing finally felt right.
Daotok had dyed his hair black again for the occasion. He'd experimented with colors before—blue, then gray—but now, the rich dark tone felt grounding. Elegant. Timeless. It matched the moment.
"You look great," someone complimented as they walked by.
Daotok smiled. "Thanks."
He wore a crisp white shirt tucked into sleek black trousers. Arthit mirrored him in a black shirt and matching pants, their looks coordinated yet casual—just how they wanted it.
"What about your hair? Want to do something with it?" Easter asked.
Daotok glanced at Arthit. "I'm fine. You?"
Arthit ran a hand through his hair. "Think I should fix it?"
"Up to you," Daotok replied with a shrug.
Arthit smirked. "Nah, it's already perfect."
They both laughed, the sound soft and familiar.
"Alright," Typhoon called out. "Let's start shooting."
The first location was the art wall—the heart of their apartment. North and Easter helped adjust the lighting as Typhoon gave gentle direction.
"Just relax. Sit how you usually would."
Daotok turned to look at Arthit, who had just glanced his way. Their eyes met. They smiled, unintentionally and effortlessly. The shutter clicked. In the first photo, they shared a quiet smile. In the next, Daotok looked shyly downward as Arthit kept his gaze tenderly fixed on him. Then they laughed, wide and carefree. In the last frame, their smiles deepened, eyes nearly crinkling with joy.
Typhoon peeked at the preview. "Let's combine these into a collage. It tells a beautiful progression."
Daotok nodded, heart full. That corner of the room held so many memories.
He would sit and draw while Arthit sat beside him, always watching, always close. Typhoon captured that too—the way Arthit's presence felt like home even in stillness.
Next, they moved near the window, where sheer white curtains fluttered with the breeze. Bathed in soft natural light, Daotok sat on the windowsill while Arthit leaned beside him. They shared subtle glances before facing the camera again, their fingers almost touching. Later, they sat on the floor, surrounded by flower arrangements they had created together.
Easter handed Daotok a bouquet, and Typhoon softly directed, "Arthit, kneel and kiss his forehead."
With a gentle motion, Arthit lowered himself and pressed a kiss to Daotok's skin, the surrounding petals and delicate white curtains turning the frame into something dreamlike. Then Arthit sat back against the wall, pulling Daotok between his legs. Daotok leaned into him, their noses nearly touching as they whispered jokes and exchanged grins between takes.
Next was the kitchen. Daotok stood at the counter, pretending to cook while Arthit leaned behind him, looking toward the camera but smiling only for Daotok. Their domestic life had never felt more cinematic. After a few more setups, Typhoon offered a break. Daotok sank into the sofa, stretching his legs.
"How's it going?" Typhoon asked, sitting beside him.
"Really good. You?"
Typhoon beamed. "This is fun. Shooting pre-wedding photos for a friend is special. Got any other ideas?"
Daotok thought aloud. "Well... we work while the other watches, we read together, play games, watch movies. The usual."
"What about Arthit's studio? We could use the piano as a prop."
"Perfect," Daotok agreed.
They moved to the studio—a space filled with instruments and creativity. Arthit sat at the piano, fingers lightly grazing the keys as if playing. Daotok stood beside him, watching intently. Then Arthit took his hand and, without warning, kissed it. Daotok's heart stuttered, and he smiled bashfully.
They switched positions, sitting side by side at the keys, fingers mingling as they played. For the final set, Typhoon suggested something a little more intimate.
"Close the curtains. Let's light the candles."
The room darkened. Golden candlelight flickered around them, and Typhoon gently wrapped string lights around their bodies. The glow lit their faces in soft halos.
"You can kiss if you want," Typhoon said.
Before Daotok could react, Arthit pulled him close and pressed their lips together. The kiss was slow, lingering, charged with emotion. A couple of shutter clicks followed, then Daotok pulled back slightly, flustered.
"That was... longer than expected," he mumbled.
"You said kiss," Arthit teased. "You didn't say how ."
Their friends giggled from the sidelines, but Daotok didn't mind. Not really. They sat on the floor afterward, backs pressed together, the string lights still draped over their shoulders like glowing vines. They struck a few final poses before Typhoon signaled it was time to review the shots.
"The lighting's amazing," Daotok murmured as they scrolled through. The kissing photo especially—soft, moody, stunning. Every image radiated warmth and affection.
"Want to do more?" Typhoon asked. "We could shoot outdoors too."
"Let's take a look first," Daotok said.
Together, he and Arthit flipped through the gallery. There were already so many beautiful moments frozen in time.
"What do you think?" Daotok asked.
"They're... more than I imagined," Arthit replied. "Didn't think I could look like that."
"As long as you don't make a weird face, they turn out fine," Daotok teased.
They decided to head out for one last set.
After loading the equipment into the cars, they drove together in two luxury vehicles, searching for the perfect backdrop. Eventually, they found it—a quiet, open area just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. They stood together beneath the golden light, arms wrapped around each other as the sky burned red behind them. The final photo was one of quiet grandeur. A fiery sunset. A warm embrace.
And love—real and steady—captured in every frame.
☆☆☆☆☆
Arthit sat quietly at the hotel suite's ornate table, wedding invitation and favors in hand, flipping them back and forth with gentle curiosity. The soft, textured cardstock of the invitation held a delicate watercolor illustration—Daotok's signature style. On the outer sleeve was a portrait of Arthit himself, facing sideways.
When the inner card was pulled free, the image shifted, and the drawing of Daotok appeared opposite him, their gazes meeting in a moment frozen in watercolor—a symbolic union. The inner card bore a vivid illustration of a sun and a shooting star side by side, their orbits intertwined. Above it, wedding details were written in Daotok's graceful script, warm and elegant, filled with intention.
The wedding favors had taken weeks of deliberation. In the end, they chose function over flair—sleek, high-quality fountain pens, each one engraved with their names and the wedding date. A small gesture of practicality, thoughtfulness, and permanence. The ceremony itself had been planned in traditional Thai style, complete with a vibrant procession, sacred water-pouring ritual, and a lavish celebration to follow.
Arthit's guest list was expansive, drawing in relatives, Direk's colleagues, childhood friends, his old football and racing teammates, gaming buddies, classmates, music label coworkers, and acquaintances from nearly every corner of his life. In contrast, Daotok's side was modest, consisting mostly of close friends—North, Easter, Typhoon— and a few beloved relatives.
The groomsmen mirrored this dynamic. Arthit's side included Hill, Tonfah, and Johan—loud, loyal, larger-than-life. On Daotok's side stood his three confidants, each one personally chosen for their deep bond with him. The venue was a luxury hotel, grand and romantic. Daotok had overseen every detail himself, from the elegant floral arrangements to the curated menu, to the placement of the live band. Two full days were set aside—one for the engagement, and the next for the wedding.
Despite the modest dowry Daotok's family initially requested—saying they only wished for Arthit to love and care for their son—Direk flat-out refused to let such an offer stand. He insisted on preparing an impressive dowry that would reflect Arthit's sincerity and status. After all, this wasn't just about money. It was about pride, tradition, and proving one's devotion.
Arthit had suggested redesigning the wedding rings, but Daotok refused, saying that the ones he had picked were already perfect. That was the end of that. From the moment Arthit proposed, the planning had begun. Once Daotok graduated, they dove into preparations in earnest, managing every detail together with care and excitement. Though they'd already been living together, the ceremony would be a declaration to the world—a celebration of love, mutual respect, and the promise of forever. They also finalized legal matters; Daotok agreed to change his nationality so they could build a life together in the U.S. without barriers.
Arthit placed the invitation card and favor box carefully back on the table just as a familiar voice called out from the hallway, summoning him to lunch. That morning, Arthit had woken before the sun, heart thumping in anticipation. It was their engagement day. They dressed in separate rooms, in keeping with tradition. Arthit stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the lapels of his sleek charcoal-gray suit. He didn't often wear suits—they felt stiff and formal—but today, he couldn't avoid it. His hair was styled neatly, and he decided against makeup, figuring his natural charm would do.
The door opened, and his groomsmen stepped in—Johan, Tonfah, and Hill—all dressed in coordinated tones.
"All set?" Tonfah asked.
Arthit gave a tired nod. "Yeah. But man, it's way too early. I'm half-asleep."
"You'll wake up once we start the procession," Johan said, picking up one of the ceremonial trays. "We're carrying the dowry trays, right?"
"Yup," Tonfah confirmed.
"But I'm not doing the wedding chant," Johan added quickly.
"You'd be perfect for it," Arthit teased. "Come on, chant something dramatic."
"No chance. You hired a band for that. Let them handle it."
Direk had chosen the three of them to carry the dowry trays instead of older relatives—modern, but meaningful. Johan carried the tray filled with cash, Tonfah held the gold, and Hill took the diamonds and a bank check. Altogether, the dowry totaled around 200 million baht.
"By the way," Johan added, "I heard the gatekeepers can ask for anything. Typhoon said someone wants you to breakdance."
Arthit froze. "What the hell! I don't even know how!"
"You can always tag in a friend," Hill said helpfully. "Ter can probably pull it off."
"Why is this so complicated?" Arthit groaned. "Can't I just give them red envelopes and move on?"
But he wasn't truly worried—except when it came to North. That guy would definitely find a way to mess with him. Soon, they were called to line up. Direk appeared, dressed in black, holding a thick stack of red envelopes. Someone handed Arthit a bouquet, and the group moved out. The procession was long, lively, and colorful, with traditional drums and cymbals marking their steps. Laughter and excitement echoed through the hotel halls.
The first gate was guarded by North and one of Daotok's relatives. North, in a pristine white suit, stood tall with a microphone.
"As Dao's best friend, I'll be asking the questions," he grinned. "First up— what was the first movie you two watched together?"
Arthit blinked. "What kind of question is that?" he whispered.
"Just make something up," North whispered back. "I forgot the answer too."
"Uh... it was a horror film. Witches. Can't remember the name."
"Good enough," North laughed. "Next—Dao's favorite animal?"
"Cats."
"Dao's best feature?"
Arthit smirked. "Everything. But I like the lips the most."
That earned a wave of cheers.
"First trip together?"
"San Francisco."
"Alright. You passed. But I'll need twenty envelopes."
Direk coolly handed over thirty. North beamed and stepped aside.
At the second gate, Easter stood proudly.
"I need to test your strength. Twenty push-ups."
Arthit handed his bouquet to Direk and dropped to the floor. He finished the push-ups effortlessly.
"Well done. But I'll be needing fifteen envelopes."
"Make it twenty," Direk said, already pulling them out.
The third and final gate was Typhoon's.
"Dance for us," he said with a wide grin.
Arthit grimaced. "I can't dance."
"Just a little."
"Thirty envelopes?"
"Nope."
"Fine. I'm calling North."
"Me?" North blinked, stepping forward.
"Dance. Any dance."
The drums picked up, and North launched into an absurd, exaggerated routine. Arthit groaned. The crowd erupted in laughter. The dance was hideously entertaining, but it did the trick.
"You're through," Typhoon said. "Fifty envelopes, though."
"Done," Direk confirmed.
With the gates cleared, they approached Daotok's room. Arthit knocked and entered, holding the bouquet. Inside, Daotok was waiting, radiant in a matching suit. His soft smile lit up the room. Arthit walked forward and knelt, presenting the bouquet with reverence. Daotok's smile widened as he accepted it. Arthit leaned in and kissed his forehead, then stood and offered his hand.
Hand in hand, they stepped into the ceremonial room, where the dowry trays shimmered under the spotlight. Elders from both families sat behind them. Cameras captured every second. The emcee announced the ring ceremony. Arthit turned toward Daotok, heart full. He gently took Daotok's hand and slid the ring onto his finger. Daotok pressed his palms together and bowed, resting his forehead on Arthit's lap. With a fond smile, Arthit stroked his hair.
Then it was Arthit's turn. Daotok carefully slid the silver band onto Arthit's finger. Feeling awkward about the imbalance, Arthit began to bow in return, only for Direk to nudge him sharply. The room burst into laughter. Even Daotok had to suppress a giggle. Still, Arthit pressed his palms together and gave a full bow. Daotok immediately pulled him into a warm hug, stopping him mid-motion.
"Thank you," Daotok whispered.
Arthit nodded, satisfaction blooming in his chest.
The next part of the ceremony was the presentation of flower garlands to the elders—a tradition deeply rooted in love, respect, and blessings for the newlyweds. Microphones weren't necessary; the room quieted naturally as Arthit approached his grandfather first, garland held respectfully in both hands.
"Arthit, my boy..." the elderly man began, voice warm with emotion. "It's finally your turn to settle down. I never thought this day would come so soon, but here it is. You've found someone who truly loves you—and who you love in return. My only wish is that you continue to love each other deeply, no matter what life throws at you. Respect each other. Support one another. That's the key to lasting happiness."
Arthit bowed deeply, touched by the sincerity in his grandfather's voice.
His grandmother stepped forward next, eyes shimmering with pride and affection. "My only grandson... I'm overjoyed to see you getting married," she said, her voice trembling slightly with feeling. "You and Daotok… you're such a perfect match. Congratulations, both of you. May your love be eternal."
Next came Direk. Though usually reserved, today his emotions showed clearly in his eyes.
"On this special day," he said softly, "I'm overwhelmed with joy. All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy. And I see that happiness in you now—with Daotok. If you love someone, I only pray they love you just as fiercely. And Daotok does. You're perfect for each other. Life might test you, but as long as you never give up on one another... that's enough for me. If my son is happy, I can rest easy."
Arthit bowed again, his heart swelling with gratitude, before moving to Daotok's family. He offered garlands to Daotok's grandmother, then his parents, each of whom gave their heartfelt blessings, tearful smiles, and quiet words of love and encouragement.
Once this part of the ceremony concluded, they transitioned into the rod nam sang—the water-pouring ritual. Arthit and Daotok sat side by side, their hands gently cradled together, palms cupped upward as elder after elder poured holy water over them, murmuring blessings for a happy, long lasting marriage. The ritual took time, but the serene atmosphere made every second feel sacred.
Afterward, they posed for photos with guests, receiving congratulations, hugs, and warm laughter. When the last picture was taken and the last hand shaken, the formal ceremony came to an end. Tired but glowing, the couple returned to their reserved hotel suite. Johan, North, Hill, and Tonfah helped carry in several bags filled with wedding envelopes, teasing and joking along the way.
"No traditional send-off for the bride and groom?" North asked, stretching his arms behind his head.
"Nope," Arthit replied with a light chuckle. "We don't have a house nearby, and going to either family's place is too much of a hassle. So we skipped it."
"But I loved the part where you bowed to Dao," Johan teased, grinning mischievously.
"Yeah, respect," North chimed in with a smirk.
"Say what you want, but I respect my spouse," Arthit replied proudly, nudging Daotok, who was curled up beside him, cheeks tinged pink from all the attention.
"Speaking of which, North—where did you learn those dance moves?"
Arthit turned with an arched brow.
North struck an exaggerated pose and winked. "What'd you think of my steps?"
"Ridiculous. But... effective," Arthit admitted, laughing.
"Exactly. That was the goal," North said with mock triumph. "Without me, you wouldn't have gotten past Phoon's gate."
"True. Your absurd dancing actually came in handy."
"Adorable, honestly," Johan added.
"Everything's adorable when your boyfriend is involved," Arthit concluded with a soft glance toward Daotok.
Johan scoffed playfully. "Anyone who bows to their spouse during the engagement ceremony should keep quiet instead of teasing me. True role model behavior."
"Will you bow again at the wedding?" someone asked teasingly.
"No, no, no!" North jumped in, hands up in mock horror. "Please, I beg you—don't!"
"So... when are you guys getting married?" Arthit asked, shifting the spotlight.
"In Thailand, we can't legally marry yet," Hill replied, wrapping an arm around his boyfriend. "We might wait for the laws to change... or look into changing our nationality."
"I proposed to North before you even proposed to Dao," Johan grumbled, feigning annoyance. "And yet somehow, you got married first. Life's not fair."
"And you, Fah?" Arthit turned to him.
"Same boat as Hill," Tonfah answered casually, flipping through his phone.
The group lingered a little longer, the room filled with soft laughter and shared memories. Eventually, they filtered out, one by one, leaving Arthit and Daotok alone. Arthit moved closer, gently easing Daotok down onto the bed before leaning in to kiss him. Daotok giggled against his lips but pulled back slightly.
"Mmm... wait," he murmured sleepily. "Let's shower first."
Arthit grinned. "Alright. To the shower, then."
What was meant to be a quick rinse turned into almost half an hour. They soaked together in warm water, Daotok eventually falling asleep against Arthit's chest, lulled by the soothing heat and exhaustion from the day. Arthit carried him out carefully, dried him off with a towel, dressed him in soft sleepwear, and even ran a towel gently through his damp hair.
Once Daotok was tucked in, Arthit climbed into bed beside him, wrapping his arms around his husband's slender frame and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.
"Today has been one of the happiest days of my life," he whispered, holding Daotok close. "Thank you... I love you so much."
☆☆☆☆☆
Daotok sat at his desk, eyes fixed on the screen as he scrolled through a digital album of engagement ceremony photos. The photographers had done a stunning job—especially Typhoon—though Typhoon had only managed to take some shots before being called to assist with gate duties. Daotok hadn't been able to witness the full procession himself; tradition dictated he wait in a room until the guests had arrived. But at least the photos captured every detail, every emotion, every smile that he missed in real time.
North had mentioned that the envelopes from Direk contained generous amounts—1,000 baht each. North, Easter, and Typhoon had been stationed at the gate, collecting the envelopes and sharing the contents with the relatives who had helped. It was a smooth operation, and everything had gone beautifully.
Daotok saved all the photos to his device, carefully selecting a few favorites to post online. He wanted to share those memories, those fleeting, beautiful moments. Arthit's Instagram, as expected, was already filled with snapshots from the event. With his sizable online following, it wasn't long before journalists picked up the story, reposting the images and crafting articles that praised the elegance of the ceremony and the couple's heartfelt connection.
The wedding day itself was fast approaching—just a few days away. For the after-party, Daotok and Arthit had invited several of their artist friends to perform, hoping to fill the evening with music and celebration. Arthit, always full of surprises, even planned to take the stage himself to perform a song.
"Shall we practice now?" came Arthit's voice, pulling Daotok away from the computer screen.
Daotok turned toward him, smiling. "Sure."
They had decided on a musical performance together for the after-party.
Daotok would play guitar, while Arthit would take the drums. The setlist was short—three of Arthit's songs—but meaningful. It wasn't a full concert, just a personal touch to their big night. Still, it would be Daotok's first time playing in front of such a large audience, and the nerves were slowly creeping in.
"What if I mess up?" Daotok asked, fingers fiddling with a guitar pick as they set up.
Arthit snorted lightly. "Who's going to complain? It's our wedding.
Nobody's expecting a flawless performance."
"I know, but it'd still be a little embarrassing..."
"Relax, love. Don't overthink it." Arthit gave him a reassuring smile. "We're celebrating us. That's what matters."
Daotok nodded and exhaled, comforted by his soon-to-be husband's calm presence. Together, they practiced into the evening, letting the rhythm and melody calm their nerves.
☆☆☆☆☆
The wedding day arrived, blanketed in soft golden light that hinted at magic. Since the event was scheduled for the evening, the couple spent the afternoon overseeing the final venue preparations. The grand hotel hall had been transformed into a floral wonderland—fresh blossoms adorned every corner, their fragrance mingling with the crisp scent of polished wood and candle wax. Guest tables, draped in pristine white cloth, sparkled under the chandeliers. Every detail had been designed by Daotok himself, yet the actual result was even more breathtaking than he had imagined.
At the entrance stood elegantly framed pre-wedding photos—captured moments of love, laughter, and promise. Daotok stood before them for a moment, gazing at the images. Each one was a reminder of the journey they had taken together, and the warmth in Arthit's smile reflected everything he felt in return.
Since the proposal, Daotok had been quietly happy. Their daily life hadn't changed drastically—they still lived together, loved the same, laughed the same—but marriage brought a new kind of meaning. It was formal recognition, yes, but it was also symbolic—a celebration of the love they had built. Every time he looked at the wedding ring now wrapped around his finger, a smile crept across his face without him even realizing.
He had cried the day they registered their marriage. It was a joy so profound it overwhelmed him. He never imagined he'd find someone like Arthit to build a life with. In the dressing room, Daotok changed into his custom-tailored tuxedo—a white suit with sleek black lapels, a crisp black bow tie, and perfectly tailored black trousers. His hair was styled just enough to give him a polished but natural look. Even though he had tried the tuxedo on several times before, it still felt surreal to wear it now, on the actual day.
The door creaked open, and North, Easter, and the rest of their friends strolled in. Easter, unsurprisingly, was munching on macarons.
"Dao, these macarons are insane," Easter said through a mouthful of pastry.
"Eat as much as you want. They're from a famous chef," Daotok replied with a laugh.
"Don't encourage him," North groaned. "He'll clean out the dessert table before guests even arrive."
"There's plenty to go around," Daotok assured him.
Everyone wore coordinated outfits that matched his own, just like they had during the engagement ceremony.
"In twenty minutes, we start," North said, glancing at his watch. "Guests will start arriving soon. Time to head out front."
"North, you singing at the after-party too?" Typhoon asked, quirking a brow.
"Of course!" North puffed out his chest. "Thanks to Arthit, I've been given the spotlight. Ask P'Joe—I've been rehearsing two or three songs on loop like a maniac."
Easter rolled his eyes. "You sing so much at home I can't hear those songs anymore without hearing your voice."
"Hah! You've been conditioned," North smirked proudly.
"Dao, by the way," Typhoon chimed in, "North helped the lighting crew earlier."
Daotok turned, eyebrows raised. "Really?"
"They were short a tech. North overheard and just... stepped in. Fixed the issue before anyone could blink," Typhoon explained.
North crossed his arms, clearly proud. "Perks of an electrical engineering degree."
"Impressive," Daotok said, grinning. "P'Joe would be proud."
"Tell that to everyone. Phoon, make sure they know how great I am!" North teased, striking a ridiculous pose.
"Show-off," Typhoon muttered fondly.
As they exited the dressing room, Arthit stepped out of his own, dressed in a sleek black tuxedo with a matching bow tie. The dark color made him look even more handsome than usual. His hair had also been styled slightly to fit the formality of the night.
Daotok's white suit contrasted beautifully with Arthit's black one. Side by side, they looked like two halves of a perfect whole.
"That suit looks perfect on you," Arthit said as he approached.
"Thanks. You look amazing too," Daotok replied, adjusting Arthit's slightly crooked bow tie.
A camera shutter clicked behind them. Typhoon had snapped a photo.
"Couldn't resist," he said with a smile.
They took their places at the venue entrance, greeting guests as they arrived. A table nearby collected gift envelopes and offered wedding favors. Together, Daotok and Arthit bowed to each guest, sharing smiles and words of gratitude. Among the crowd, Daotok spotted Min, radiant in a long white gown.
"Wow, you two look stunning! I've seen your love story from the beginning, and I'm so happy for you. Finally, Arthit's off the market!" she teased.
"Don't forget your gift envelope," Arthit said playfully.
"Oh, I came prepared. Haven't seen you much since you moved out, so I better catch that bouquet to make up for it!" she laughed.
"When's your wedding?" Arthit asked, smirking.
"What's it to you?" Min replied sassily. "I haven't moved on—I still love the same person."
"Then why fight to catch the bouquet?"
"Because I want to, alright?" she snapped with mock irritation, making them both laugh. "See you inside, sweetheart," she added with a wink to Daotok before disappearing into the hall. Soon, the emcees took the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the wedding celebration of Mr. Siwat Akkarakijwatthanakul and Mr. Saranyapat Kittivanich!" the female emcee announced brightly.
"Let's give them a round of applause!" the male emcee added, voice booming.
Cheers and applause echoed through the hall as Arthit and Daotok stepped forward. Daotok's heart pounded. He reached out, and Arthit squeezed his hand tightly in reassurance. Flower petals floated down as they walked the aisle, surrounded by flashing cameras and smiling faces.
Behind them, six groomsmen followed, each holding a bouquet, creating a perfect picture of celebration and love. Daotok stole a glance at Arthit beside him, their hands entwined, their smiles wide. My groom , he thought, his chest swelling with emotion.
As they stepped onto the stage, camera flashes continued, capturing the joy of the moment. From up there, they could see the entirety of the grand celebration—the sea of people who had come to witness their love. A microphone was handed to Daotok. His hands were cold from nerves. Arthit was given one as well.
"First things first," the emcee said. "Are you nervous?"
"Very," Daotok admitted, voice trembling with a laugh.
"And you, Arthit?"
"Extremely," Arthit chuckled.
"Could you tell us about the proposal? What made you decide to propose to Dao?" the male emcee asked, glancing toward Arthit with a smile of genuine curiosity.
Daotok turned his head, his gaze resting on the man beside him, anticipation and fondness blooming in his chest.
Arthit didn't hesitate. His voice was calm, unwavering. "Because I love him," he began, eyes locked on Daotok's. "Deciding to propose wasn't difficult at all. I just... knew. I knew I wanted to spend my life with him. Once that thought settled in, everything else fell into place. I picked a ring, came home, and proposed. It was that simple—because deep down, I already knew he was the one."
The crowd erupted into cheers and teasing applause, laughter rippling through the hall. Daotok blushed, smiling softly as he reached for Arthit's hand beneath the table.
"And you, Dao?" the emcee turned to him next. "What were you thinking at that moment, when you said yes?"
Daotok exhaled gently before answering, his voice a blend of shyness and sincerity. "It wasn't hard to say yes. I'd already made that promise to myself—to stay by his side, no matter what or where. When he proposed, I was stunned, of course, but... I didn't hesitate. I already knew he was my forever. It was that simple."
A chorus of soft sighs and "aww"s echoed from the guests.
The female emcee leaned forward with a grin. "How sweet! Now, Arthit, what do you admire most about Dao?"
Arthit turned his gaze toward Daotok again, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Everything. His kindness, his voice, the way he always knows what to say to calm me down... Dao's the only person who can temper someone as hot-headed as me. He never leaves—not when things are messy, not when I push him away. At first, I didn't feel an instant spark, but as time passed, I found myself drawn to him, impressed by everything he is. And slowly... I fell in love."
Another warm wave of applause followed.
"And you, Dao? What do you admire most about Arthit?" the male emcee asked.
Daotok chuckled. "He's bright and cheerful. He brings light into every room without trying. He's playful, laid-back, and so easy to be around—but when it comes to me, he's incredibly serious. He's loved me since the very beginning, and he's never once changed. He always puts me first. Even when he's grumbling or pretending not to care, he does. That warmth, that devotion... it's what I admire most."
The audience listened with rapt attention, touched by the sincerity flowing between them.
"Now, tell us—how did you two first meet?" the female emcee asked.
"We were neighbors," Daotok explained. "He moved into the apartment next to mine. I ended up helping him with something not long after he arrived, and that's how we got to know each other. It was a small, insignificant moment back then—but it led to everything."
"Is that true?" the emcee asked, turning toward Arthit.
Arthit nodded, a nostalgic smile on his face. "It is. Dao helped me without asking for anything in return. That was when I first saw his true character. That kindness caught my attention. From there, I couldn't stop myself—I just kept wanting to get closer."
"And how did you pursue him after that?" the male emcee grinned, clearly enjoying the love story unfolding.
"He was persistent," Daotok answered, laughing softly as he recalled the memories. "At first, I rejected him. I wasn't interested in love. But he told me I didn't need to love him back—he just wanted to stay by my side. He never forced anything, never rushed me. Over time, his sincerity broke through my walls."
"That's so romantic," the female emcee sighed.
"What was the first place you traveled to together?" the male emcee asked.
"San Francisco," Daotok replied. "It wasn't really a vacation—I went with him to help out with a few things early in our relationship. But that trip... it became a memory I treasure."
Smiles and nods spread throughout the crowd.
"Now," the female emcee said gently, "do you have anything you'd like to say to each other?"
Daotok turned to Arthit, his hand now holding tightly to his husband's.
Their eyes met, and time seemed to pause.
"As I've told you many times before... thank you," Daotok began, voice trembling slightly. "I've probably said it a hundred times already, but it's still not enough. I never imagined I'd be loved like this, or that someone would want to build a life with me. Arthit, you've filled every empty space in my heart. You've made my world brighter, my days meaningful."
His eyes brimmed with tears. "I used to be scared of love—because I'd been hurt before. But you proved to me that love can be safe, steady, and beautiful. You've never broken a promise. Never wavered. So, from the bottom of my heart... thank you."
Tears fell freely now, and Arthit reached up to wipe them away, his thumb brushing gently across Daotok's cheek.
"I want to say thank you too," Arthit said, his voice thick with emotion.
"Thank you for walking into my life, for staying, for being my strength. You've supported every part of me, even the ones I'm still learning to accept. I wouldn't be who I am today without you. You're the reason I smile, the reason I work harder, the reason I wake up happy. I promise to love you and care for you... always."
Applause burst through the hall, the atmosphere thick with love.
"Would you like to say anything to the guests?" the emcee asked.
Daotok turned to the audience. "Thank you for being here today. Your presence means the world to us. To my family—the Kittivanich family—thank you for raising me with love and care. Grandma, thank you for being my foundation. Mom, thank you for your constant warmth. Dad, thank you for protecting me. And Gavin... thank you for always being on my side."
He bowed his head briefly. "To the Akkarakijwatthanakul family—thank you for welcoming me, for trusting me, and for allowing me to love your son."
Arthit spoke next. "Thank you to my father, who raised me alone after my mother passed. He never let me feel like I was missing anything. Dad, thank you for your strength. And to Dao's family... thank you for giving me the most precious person in the world."
The emcees beamed. "Let's have a round of applause for our grooms!"
The audience clapped loudly, joy overflowing.
"Now, we invite the fathers of the grooms to share their blessings."
Arthit's father, Direk, stepped onto the stage in a crisp black suit. "Good evening. I'm Direk Akkarakijwatthanakul, Arthit's father. Today is a day of immeasurable joy for me. Arthit is my only son. I've raised him on my own since his mother passed. I always wanted him to be happy—to live freely, chase his dreams, and become someone kind.
"Dao has given him the strength to chase those dreams. He has stood behind my son through every high and low. They balance each other perfectly—fiery and calm, strong and soft. I couldn't be more proud."
He turned to Daotok. "Thank you, Dao, for loving my son."
The audience applauded warmly.
Next, Daotok's father, Thaskorn, took the stage. "Good evening. I'm Thaskorn, Dao's father. Like Khun Direk, I have only one child. Dao has always been quiet, introverted, living in a world of his own. I used to worry that he'd never find someone who understood him."
He paused, smiling gently. "But Arthit did. He brought light into my son's life. Dao laughs more now. He smiles more. He talks more. And that means the world to me. Thank you, Arthit. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness."
After another round of applause, the emcees guided the grooms forward.
"It's time to cut the wedding cake, symbolizing a sweet beginning to your life together."
Hand in hand, Daotok and Arthit approached the towering white cake. They lifted the knife together, cutting slowly through the top layer while flashes from cameras filled the air.
Afterward, the emcees called all the single guests to the stage for the bouquet toss. Daotok turned his back to the crowd and tossed it high. As he turned around, a familiar voice shrieked joyfully.
"Ahhh! I got it!"
Min stood with the bouquet in hand, victorious. The room erupted into cheers.
As the emcees prepared for the after-party, they invited the guests to take a short break.
Backstage, in the quiet of the dressing room, Daotok unbuttoned his tuxedo and sighed with relief.
"It's almost time to party. I'm so excited," he said.
"I have a surprise for you," Arthit murmured with a grin.
"A surprise?"
"Yeah. I've never surprised you before... and I thought tonight would be the perfect time."
Daotok turned toward him, curiosity lighting his features. "Now I'm really curious."
After changing into more relaxed outfits, Daotok and Arthit stepped back into the reception hall, now completely transformed. The lights had dimmed to a romantic low, replaced by swirling spotlights that bathed the room in vibrant colors—purple, blue, red, and gold hues that danced across the walls and glinted off crystal glasses. The music had shifted too, no longer soft and mellow but pulsing with upbeat energy that pulled guests onto the dance floor, their bodies moving freely with the rhythm.
The first performance of the evening came as no surprise—but that didn't make it any less exhilarating. Standing center stage was Arthit himself, dressed in sleek black with a confident gleam in his eyes. A group of male dancers in matching hoodies flanked him, their stances sharp and ready.
The moment the music dropped, Arthit began to sing. The dancers moved in perfect sync, their choreography sharp and fluid, enhancing the rhythm of the song. From his spot off to the side, Daotok watched with wide, awestruck eyes, heart racing with admiration and pride. Arthit looked devastatingly cool under the lights. Every note he sang carried weight, every small movement of his body radiated charisma. He wasn't just performing—he owned the stage.
The crowd responded instantly, swaying, clapping, and dancing to the beat, caught up in the infectious energy. Then, partway through the performance, Arthit made his way across the stage, his gaze locked on Daotok. Without missing a beat, Arthit reached for his hand and pulled him gently but firmly to the center of the stage. The crowd erupted with cheers and excited whistles.
With one arm wrapped around Daotok's shoulders, Arthit continued singing—this time to him. When the verse came to an end, he leaned in and kissed Daotok's cheek. The crowd's reaction was immediate—loud, joyous, and full of teasing approval. Daotok flushed, unable to suppress the shy but happy grin stretching across his face.
After Arthit's electrifying performance, more artists took the stage. Many were from his label, but some were internationally renowned musicians with massive fanbases. Though most were foreign, their names and music were familiar to the Thai crowd. Arthit frequently joined them for duets or surprise collaborations, keeping the energy sky-high.
Daotok found his way to the front of the stage where his friends had gathered, laughing and dancing in the colored lights.
"How's it going?" he called over the music, nudging Easter with his elbow.
Easter spun toward him, cheeks flushed with excitement. "Dao! This is insane! You invited so many big-name artists—it's like an all-star concert!"
"Seriously," Typhoon added with a bright smile. "Are you going to sing too, Dao?"
Daotok chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't sing. I'll leave that to the professionals. I'll just cheer from here."
"Arthit was amazing during that first song," Easter said, eyes still fixed on the stage. "He's such a natural performer."
Daotok nodded, unable to hide the pride in his expression. "Yeah... he really is."
Soon, it was time for a performance they had both prepared together. Though Arthit was used to the spotlight, Daotok felt a surge of nerves as they walked onstage. He stuck to the plan they'd rehearsed—his fingers strumming the guitar, backing Arthit's voice with a steady rhythm. To his relief, the audience seemed to enjoy it. When the final chord rang out, applause echoed around them.
Backstage, their friends rushed over.
"How was it?" Daotok asked, brushing a strand of hair from his face.
"Dao, that was incredible ," Easter gushed. "I didn't know you could play guitar like that! You two... you just fit so well together."
Daotok smiled, his chest warm with joy. "Thanks. That means a lot."
Next up was North, known for his gentle voice and thoughtful lyrics. Though he appeared nervous at first, he soon relaxed, delivering a stunning performance that hushed the room. But the real surprise of the evening came just after.
Arthit's voice rang through the venue once more. "I have a little surprise for everyone before we wrap up tonight. Please welcome... Jill Winston!"
The reaction was instant. The crowd erupted, screams and applause bouncing off the walls as a tall man stepped into the spotlight. Daotok froze.
Jill Winston. Jill freaking Winston.
Beside him, North grabbed his arm in disbelief. "Dao! Oh my god! That's Jill Winston ! You're kidding—he's here?! He's here ?!"
Daotok couldn't speak. His heart had stopped, eyes wide and locked on the world-famous musician standing casually on the stage.
"Jill is a special guest tonight," Arthit announced, turning his gaze toward Daotok with a proud smile. "I brought him here to surprise someone very dear to me. Dao, come on up!"
Daotok's legs felt like jelly, but somehow, he made his way up the stage, clutching the microphone with trembling fingers. Jill Winston—his musical idol, the reason he'd picked up a guitar—was right there, smiling at him.
"I... thank you," Daotok whispered, glancing at Arthit. The love and thoughtfulness behind this gesture overwhelmed him. Rising on tiptoe, he kissed Arthit's cheek, earning another wave of loud cheers from the crowd. Jill's performance was nothing short of magical. Daotok stood nearby, close enough to feel the music in his chest. Around him, guests gasped and murmured, calling it the most unforgettable wedding they'd ever attended.
Daotok smiled so wide his cheeks ached.
When Jill finished, he offered heartfelt congratulations and thanked them for the invitation before exiting to thunderous applause. The after-party wound down with laughter, dancing, and an energy so vibrant it lingered even as the guests began to filter out.
Back in their suite, Daotok barely remembered how he got there—only that at some point, Arthit had helped him out of his shoes and into bed.
"Want me to help you shower?" Arthit asked gently, brushing hair from his forehead.
"Mmh. Please..." Daotok mumbled, too exhausted to lift a finger.
Arthit took his time, bathing him with care and dressing him in comfortable sleepwear. But just as Daotok's head sank into the pillow, he noticed Arthit dragging a large bag across the room.
"What's that?" he asked, voice sleepy.
"The envelopes. We have to count them," Arthit replied with a mischievous grin.
"Alright. I'll help."
Arthit settled against the headboard, and Daotok curled up beside him, resting his cheek on his husband's shoulder.
"Holy shit, Joe gave us a three-million-baht check," Arthit blurted, wide eyed. "Classic Joe."
Daotok laughed. "That's insane."
"Fah and Hill each gave 100,000 baht," Arthit continued, reading off names.
"They even included their boyfriend's names on the envelopes. Thoughtful."
"That's a lot , not just 'not bad,'" Daotok teased, grinning.
As Arthit continued tallying, Daotok leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. "Happy wedding day," he whispered.
Arthit turned to him, eyes shining with emotion, and captured his lips in a deep, lingering kiss. It was slow, warm, and full of everything words couldn't express. His tongue teased and tasted, and when he pulled back, Daotok's breath was shaky.
"Happy wedding day," Arthit whispered back.
He gently repositioned Daotok, climbing over him and nuzzling the curve of his neck. Daotok tilted his head, granting him access as Arthit trailed soft kisses along his skin.
"Do you think anything will change now that we're married?" Daotok asked, voice hushed.
"Nothing will change," Arthit replied firmly. "I told you before—I've never changed, and I never will."
Daotok smiled, eyes fluttering closed. "Same here."
"Good," Arthit whispered. "I love you so much."
"I love you too... my dearest husband," Daotok murmured, his heart full.