Chapter Text
The final week of the semester had swept through the Wayar-Caskey household like a category-five hurricane, The kitchen island was completely buried under a mountain of unfolded laundry, half-packed sports bags, and three different laptops left wide open on the granite surface. The semester was officially over, and absolute exhaustion in its wake. Poon had finally finished his brutal anatomy blocks at Chulalongkorn University, Barcode had wrapped up his sophomore finals and his grueling football season at Ascot, and even nine-year-old Guinzly had officially been set free for the summer from ISB, but looking at the state of the Lat Phrao villa, nobody would have guessed it. The usual post-finals relief hadn't kicked in yet; instead, the house just felt sticky, cluttered, and incredibly loud.
Poon was slumped over a bowl of cereal, his eyes glazed over as he stared blankly at his iPad, his brain clearly still fried from his last anatomy block. A few feet away, Barcode was aggressively digging through a duffel bag, tossing sweaty football jerseys onto the floor in a desperate search for his phone, while Guinzly’s Roblox theme music blasted at full volume from the living room sofa.
In the middle of all this noise stood Gawin. He wasn't moving. He was just leaning against the counter, his fingers tightly gripping a cold mug of coffee as he stared daggers at the colorful travel brochures scattered near the sink. The air conditioning was blasting, but the tension radiating off him was making the kitchen feel entirely suffocating. Gawin rubbed his temples, his fingers pressing so hard into his skin that his knuckles turned white. His eyes were bloodshot, his shoulders slumped under a soft, oversized linen shirt that suddenly felt far too heavy. He hadn't slept properly in three days—not because of the kids' schedules anymore, but because the looming threat of the family summer vacation was draining every single ounce of his remaining sanity.
"I’m just saying, the exchange rate right now is actually very logical," Poon said, leaning over the counter with a smooth, effortless grace that only an student who had just survived finals could manage. He tapped his iPad screen, showing a perfectly curated Pinterest board of Tokyo in the early summer. "Japan has everything. The aesthetic is completely clean, the cities are beautiful, and I can finally get proper matcha without paying a premium in Siam. Plus, the limited-edition anime figures in Akihabara are dropping next week. It’s a cultural experience."
"A cultural experience for you, P’Poon," Barcode scoffed, lounging heavily on the barstool next to his older brother, a football jersey slung over his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, drumming his fingers against the granite countertop. "Nobody wants to walk around a crowded city in the summer heat looking at anime shops. If we’re going to spend money, we need to go somewhere with real culture. The UK. Obviously. It’s the birthplace of modern football. I want to see the stadiums, I want to do the museum tours, and the weather is actually perfect for training right now."
"We are not spending our family vacation watching you stare at a patch of grass in London, Barcode," Poon shot back, crossing his arms. "You do that every single day at Ascot."
"It's not just grass! It's tradition!"
"Can you both just shut up for five minutes?" Gawin muttered, his voice dangerously low, almost lost beneath the humming of the refrigerator.
Neither of them heard him.
"Tradition my foot," Poon scoffed, completely ignoring his Papa as he leaned forward. "You just want to buy more overpriced jerseys. If we go to Japan, at least the food is universally good. You can't honestly tell me you want to eat British food for two weeks."
"What's wrong with fish and chips?!" Barcode yelled back, slamming his hand on the counter. "And don't act like you're so refined, P'Poon. You just want to take aesthetic photos for your Instagram so your university friends think you have a life outside the lab!"
"At least I have a brain to cultivate a life, unlike someone whose entire personality is kicking a leather ball!" Poon snapped, his temper flaring.
"Hey! My personality is great! Papa, tell him my personality is great!" Barcode turned his head toward the counter, but before Gawin could even breathe, Barcode was already looking back at his brother, shouting, "And at least I don't smell like a hospital and labs!"
"I took a shower twice, you idiot—!"
From the living room floor, nine-year-old Guinzly didn't even look up from his iPad, where he was aggressively building a fortress in Roblox. "I don't care about Japan or the UK," he announced loudly, his voice echoing off the high ceilings. "I’m staying here. I already told Cean and Neona and Cherry that we’re doing a three-days sleepover. Cean said we can play a new chicken game on his ipad, and Cherry’s Dad said we can bake cookies, and make ice cream together, Cherry actually have a new ice cream recipe. It’s a perfect summer plan, right papa?"
Gawin closed his eyes, taking a long, shaky breath. "Guinzly, sweetie, we’ve talked about this. Cean’s, Neone and Cherry will be going on family vacation too, Nobody is staying in Bangkok."
"Then I’ll just play Roblox with them online from my room!" Guinzly whined, finally throwing his head back against the sofa cushions, his lower lip protruding in a massive, weaponized pout. "Why do we have to leave? My bed is here. My friends are here papa. Vacations are boring. There's too much walking!"
"You're nine, you don't get a vote to stay home alone," Poon sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Papa, tell him. And tell Barcode that London is depressing in July."
"London is not depressing!" Barcode yelled.
"It is literally famous for rain, you idiot—"
"Poon.. Languange." Gawin snapped at his first born.
The heavy front door clicked open, and the booming, cheerful sound of Joss’s voice instantly cut through the bickering.
"Hey, team! Look what I got," Joss announced, walking into the kitchen like a breath of fresh, chaotic air. He looked impossibly handsome, completely unbothered by the humidity outside, wearing a crisp white button-down with the top three buttons casually undone. He dropped a thick, glossy stack of luxury European travel magazines right on top of the counter.
"Italy.” He said confidently.
"A private villa in Tuscany, or a couple of days on the Amalfi Coast... it’s summer, guys! We need wine, pasta, and the Mediterranean sun." He continued.
"Dad, nooo.. Italy will be very crowded in summer.. if you want the sun you can just stay in Bangkok, the heat beats Italy sun for sure." Poon complained.
"Joss, Dad, Sir.. I'm sixteen, if u remember, I can't drink wine with you in Tuscany," Barcode groaned.
"But the food, Code! Think of the tomatoes! The truffles!" Joss laughed, entirely ignoring the growing storm cloud brewing on his husband’s face. He stepped up behind Gawin, wrapping his massive, muscular arms around Gawin’s waist, burying his face into the crook of Gawin’s neck. "What do you think, Papa? Italy sounds perfect, right? We can get a boat. You love boats. You love Wines."
Gawin stiffened. Usually, Joss’s touch was the one thing that could instantly melt his stress away, but right now, the heavy weight of Joss’s arms felt like an anchor dragging him further underwater. Nobody was listening. Absolutely nobody.
With a sharp, sudden movement, Gawin twisted out of Joss’s embrace, stepping back until his hips hit the edge of the kitchen counter.
The sudden rejection was so uncharacteristic that the entire room went completely dead silent. Poon stopped tapping his iPad. Barcode froze mid-sentence. Even Guinzly lowered his tablet, his wide eyes darting between his parents.
Joss stood there, his arms still slightly extended, a confused, slightly hurt expression flickering across his broad face. "G? Babe, what’s wrong?"
"What's wrong?" Gawin repeated, his voice dangerously calm, though his chest was heaving. He looked at the stack of magazines Joss had tossed on top of his papers, then looked at Poon, then Barcode, and finally at Joss. "What's wrong is that I am completely, utterly exhausted."
"Gawin, it’s just a vacation debate, we’re just brainstorming—" Joss started, taking a step forward, his hand reaching out instinctively to soothe.
"Don't," Gawin snapped, raising a hand to halt him. The sheer intensity in his eyes made Joss freeze in his tracks. Gawin let out a bitter, dry laugh, gesturing wildly to the kitchen island. "Look at this. Nobody asked. Not a single person came up to me and asked, 'Hey, what do you want to do?' or 'Are you doing okay?' I am entirely invisible until it’s time to pack the bags, organize the passports, and manage the itineraries."
He turned his blazing, tear-filled gaze directly onto Joss, his hands shaking so hard he had to grip the edge of the counter to keep his balance. The boys went completely silent, realizing this wasn't a normal argument.
"And you know what’s worst?," Gawin said, his voice dropping into a trembling, quiet whisper that cut right through Joss. "You just blast into the room with your loud energy, tossing money and big ideas around without looking at me for even a second to see that I am drowning. You didn't check on me, Joss. You didn't think for one second about how much energy I have left. You just decided Italy was perfect because you want to sit in the sun and drink wine. I don't want to manage a massive European trek! I don't want to coordinate five people across an ocean! I don't want to sit in a twelve to sixteen-hour flight to Tuscany! I am tired! I am so, so tired, and nobody is listening to me!" Gawin swallowed hard, a heavy, bitter wave of exhaustion tightening his chest.
The kitchen was so quiet you could hear the distant traffic from the Lat Phrao Junction outside. The three boys looked entirely stunned, the reality of their father's complete burnout finally sinking through their teenage and childhood selfishness.
"Papa, we didn't know—" Poon started, his voice dropping into a rare, quiet tone of genuine guilt.
Gawin swallowed hard, blinking back the hot tears of frustration that threatened to spill over. He couldn't stay in the room for another second. The walls felt like they were closing in on him.
"Actually, do whatever you want," Gawin whispered, his voice dropping into a flat, empty tone that was far scarier than his yelling. "Go to Japan. Go to London. Go to Italy. I don't care anymore. Just leave me out of it."
Without waiting for a response, Gawin turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. His footsteps were heavy as he marched up the stairs, followed by the distant, definitive click of the master bedroom door locking behind him.
For a long minute, nobody in the kitchen moved.
"Dad... is Papa okay?" Guinzly broke the silence with his trembling voice. Almost crying.
Joss didn't answer right away. He walked over to the counter, slowly picking up the crumpled printout of the Maldives. He smoothed it out with his large thumb, staring at the picture of the quiet, crystal-blue water and the two bicycles parked outside a wooden villa. He felt a heavy, painful ache in his chest. He had been so focused on making a big, spectacular summer splash for the family that he had completely blinded himself to the fact that his husband was running on absolute empty.
"No," Joss said quietly, his voice thick with regret. He looked up at his three sons, his expression serious and firm.
Poon sighed, pushing his iPad away. "I didn't realize he was that stressed. I thought... I thought he was just being his usual quiet self."
Joss rubbing the back of his neck. He looked at Barcode, then at Guinzly, who was now sitting very quietly on the edge of the sofa, looking terrified. Joss walked over to the living room and knelt down in front of his youngest son, putting a hand on his knee. "Guinzly, Papa loves you very much, okay? He's just really, really tired right now, don’t cry okay?"
Guinzly nodded slowly, his lower lip trembling. "Can we go to the place Papa wants? I don't need to play Roblox.."
"Hey," Joss said, his voice dropping into a low, incredibly gentle tone that he rarely used unless things were truly serious. "Look at me, all three of you."
Guinzly blinked back a tear, looking down at his lap, while Poon and Barcode quietly stepped closer to the sofa, the heavy silence of the house hanging over them.
"Papa’s crash out just now? It is not your fault," Joss said firmly, making sure each of them heard him clearly. "Do you understand me? You guys didn't do anything wrong by talking about what you wanted for the summer. It’s normal to be excited when the semester ends."
"But he was crying, Dad," Barcode muttered, his voice unusually small as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I shouldn't have been shouting at P'Poon over matcha and anime."
"We all look like idiots," Poon added quietly, staring at his iPad screen with a deep frown of genuine guilt.
"Listen to me," Joss insisted, squeezing Guinzly’s shoulders reassuringly before standing up to face the older boys. "Papa is not mad at you guys for being kids. He loves you more than anything. But he has spent the last six months carrying the entire weight of this house on his shoulders. He made sure you survived Chula, Poon. He kept you on track at Ascot, Barcode. He didn't let up for a second. He is just completely out of gas, and I was too stupid and too loud to notice that he needed help."
Joss let out a quiet, heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced toward the stairs.
"This one is on me. I’m the co-pilot here, and I let him do all the heavy lifting until he broke. So, here is what we are going to do as a team. We are going to give Papa his space. No shouting, no running around, and absolutely no bickering. Go to your rooms, pack your own things, and manage your own mess. Papa is officially off-duty for the rest of the day."
The three boys nodded in unison, the realization sinking in. Guinzly wiped his face and quietly picked up his iPad, turning the volume completely off, while Poon and Barcode silently began clearing their laptops and stray laundry off the kitchen island.
Joss watched them for a brief second, his heart heavy with regret, before he finally turned toward the stairs. The boys were taken care of, but the hardest part was still ahead of him. He had to face the man he had carelessly pushed to the edge.
Joss walked up the stairs slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. He stopped outside the heavy wooden door of the master bedroom. He knocked softly, three rhythmic, gentle taps.
"Gawin?" Joss called out, his voice low and incredibly tender. "Babe, please open the door. Just talk to me."
Silence.
"Gawin, please. I’m an idiot. I’m a loud, selfish idiot who didn't look at his husband properly. I am so sorry. Just let me in."
After a long, agonizing pause, the distinct click of the lock echoed through the hallway. The door swung open just a fraction, revealing Gawin standing there. his hair was slightly disheveled, but his eyes were still guarded, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared up at Joss through the gap.
Joss didn't wait. He gently pushed the door open, stepped into the room, and immediately closed the distance between them. Before Gawin could protest or say a single word, Joss wrapped his massive arms around him, pulling him tightly against his chest. He held him with a fierce, protective genteness, burying his face into Gawin’s soft hair.
Gawin stayed rigid for a few seconds, his hands pressed against Joss’s chest as if trying to keep the distance. "Joss, I'm still mad at you," he muttered, his voice muffled against Joss’s shoulder.
"I know. You should be," Joss whispered, his grip tightening, his large hand gently stroking the back of Gawin's head. "I'm so sorry, babe. I was so caught up in the end-of-semester excitement that I forgot to look at you. I forgot that you’ve been holding this whole family together while we all ran around like maniacs. I’m so sorry I didn't listen."
Hearing the genuine, raw remorse in Joss’s voice, the last of Gawin’s defensive armor finally melted away. A long, shuddering sigh escaped his lips, and his arms slowly crawled up around Joss’s neck, his fingers clutching at the fabric of Joss’s shirt. He let his entire weight sink into his husband’s broad frame, finally allowing himself to be carried, to be held.
"I just wanted a beach, Joss," Gawin whispered, a solitary tear finally escaping and soaking into Joss's collar. "I just wanted to ride a bike with you and the kids without anyone screaming or fighting. I can't handle a big city right now. My brain is completely fried."
"We're going to the beach," Joss murmured softly, pressing a tender kiss against the side of Gawin's head.
Gawin pulled back slightly, looking up at Joss with a skeptical, tired frown. "You're lying."
"I swear to god, I'm not," Joss smiled, his thumbs gently wiping away the trace of tears from Gawin's pale cheeks. "I put the hammer down. The bickering is dead. Italy is canceled. Japan is canceled. London is definitely canceled. We are going to the Maldives, and the rules are simple: no crowds, no schedules, and you get a double-shot iced latte delivered to your lounge chair every single morning while I watch the kids."
Gawin stared at him, a faint, disbelieving chuckle finally breaking through his exhaustion. "You're really going to watch all three of them by yourself?"
"I will wrestle them into submission on the sand if I have to," Joss promised, his boyish, dimpled grin finally returning. "You are going to sit by the water, read your books, and completely forget that you have a family for a few days if that’s what you need. I've got this, G. I promise."
Gawin looked at him for a long moment, the deep, overwhelming irritation in his chest finally resolving into a profound sense of comfort. He reached up, his fingers gently tracing the sharp line of Joss’s jaw, before leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss against his husband's lips. It was a quiet, profound reconciliation—the storm had passed, and the quiet rhythm of their partnership was finally restored.
Instead of letting him step back, Joss slid one arm under Gawin’s knees and the other behind his back, effortlessly scooping him up off the floor. Gawin let out a small, startled gasp, instinctively catching his balance by wrapping his arms securely around Joss’s neck. He didn't even argue. A few minutes ago, he might have snapped at the sudden movement, but right now, the feeling of being entirely carried—of not having to plant his own feet on the ground—was exactly what he needed.
Joss walked the short distance to the bed, carefully laying Gawin down onto the cool, crisp sheets. He didn't immediately pull away. Instead, he crawled up beside him, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at his husband.
With a gentleness that contrasted entirely with his massive frame, Joss reached out and began running his long fingers through Gawin's hair, massaging his scalp in slow, rhythmic strokes. Gawin’s eyelids immediately fluttered shut, a long, deep sigh trembling past his lips as the last bit of tension drained from his shoulders.
"I'm serious, babe," Joss whispered, his thumb brushing over the soft skin just beneath Gawin’s eye. "Don't think about the itineraries. Don't think about the packing list. Don't even think about what we're having for dinner tonight. Just close your eyes."
"The boys..." Gawin mumbled, his voice already thick with sleep, his consciousness slipping away under the hypnotic rhythm of Joss's hand in his hair. "Are they—"
"They're terrified of me right now," Joss teased softly, a quiet, affectionate smirk on his face. "And they love you too much to mess this up. The house is handled. I've got you."
Gawin didn't reply. He just nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow. Within minutes, his breathing slowed into a deep, even rhythm, finally falling into the first peaceful, undisturbed sleep he’d had in weeks.
Joss stayed right there for a long time, watching the tight line between Gawin's eyebrows completely smooth out. He kept his promise. He didn't move, he didn't make a sound, and he let his husband completely disappear into the quiet rest he had so fiercely earned.
The ceiling fan spun in slow, quiet circles above the bed, humming a steady rhythm that Gawin hadn’t heard in months.
When he slowly opened his eyes, the room was dark. The blackout curtains were pulled shut, blocking out the harsh afternoon sun of Lat Phrao. He blinked, feeling disoriented. His body felt heavy, almost glued to the mattress, but the sharp, suffocating pressure behind his eyes had finally receded into a dull, manageable ache. He rolled over, his hand instinctively reaching for the other side of the bed, but the sheets were cool and empty.
Gawin sat up slowly, waiting for the inevitable noise of the household to hit his ears. Usually, this time of day was a battlefield of loud Roblox sound effects, Barcode arguing about his lost sports gear, or Poon loudly explaining something complex on his speakerphone.
Instead, the house was completely, eerily quiet.
Gawin frowned, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He reached for his phone on the nightstand. The clock read 6 PM. He had been asleep for nearly three hours. He checked his notifications, expecting a barrage of missed calls or urgent messages asking where something was stored.
Nothing.
Unease began to bubble in his chest. A quiet house in the Wayar-Caskey residence usually meant one of two things: either everyone was scheming, or something had gone terribly wrong.
He pushed himself up, rubbing his face. His stomach gave a strange, hollow twinge—a subtle, empty ache that he quickly dismissed as missing lunch—and he padded out of the bedroom in his bare feet. He walked down the hallway and peered into the boys’ rooms one by one.
Poon’s room was spotless, his bed made and his iPad nowhere in sight. Barcode’s room smelled faintly of laundry detergent, but his duffel bags were missing from the floor. Guinzly’s room was completely empty, his beloved plushies neatly lined up against the headboard. Strange.
Gawin walked down the grand staircase into the kitchen. The mountain of laundry on the island was gone. The sports bags were nowhere to be seen. The kitchen counter had been wiped clean, and even the travel magazines Joss had brought home were stacked in a neat, orderly pile near the fridge. Weird.
It was completely surreal.
Gawin unlocked his phone and pulled up the family group chat.
- Gawin : Where is everyone? Why is the house empty?
He waited. One minute passed. Two minutes. The double blue ticks appeared, but no one typed a response.
His frown deepened. He tapped on Poon’s contact and brought the phone to his ear. It rang four times before his eldest son picked up.
"Hey, Papa," Poon’s voice sounded muffled over the line, background noise humming with the clinking of glasses and soft jazz music.
"Poon? Where are you? Why didn't anyone reply in the group chat?" Gawin asked, his tone laced with defensive caution.
"Oh, sorry, I was just putting my phone on silent," Poon explained smoothly. "I'm at a cafe near Siam with some of my lab mates from Chula. We're celebrating the end of finals. Don't worry, Papa, I cleared my desk and packed my books before I left."
Gawin blinked, caught off guard by how remarkably cooperative Poon sounded. "Right... okay. Do you know where your brothers are?"
"Barcode went out earlier. I think he said something about a workout session. I don't know about Guinzly, though. Isn't he with Dad?"
"I don't know, nobody is home," Gawin sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "Fine. Have fun with your friends, Poon. Don't stay out too late."
"I won't. Rest well, Papa."
Gawin hung up, feeling more confused than before. He immediately dialed Barcode.
It took three separate calls before Barcode finally answered, breathing heavily into the receiver. The heavy, rhythmic thud of a treadmill and metal weights clanking echoed in the background.
"Papa! What's up?" Barcode panted.
"Barcode, why are you not at home? Where are you?"
"At the gym! Doing some light cardio and core work before the trip," Barcode replied, his voice unusually cheerful. "Dad said we need to give you total peace and quiet today, so I took my workout outside. Is everything okay? Do you need me to bring home food?"
"No, I... I just woke up and the house was empty," Gawin said softly, the lingering irritation from his earlier crash out slowly deflating into confusion. "Where is Guinzly? Is he with you?"
"Guinzly? Nah, he wasn't here when I left. I thought Dad took him out. Anyway, Papa, I gotta finish my set. Love you!"
The line went dead. Gawin stared at his phone screen.
Poon was at Siam. Barcode was at the gym. Neither of them knew where the nine-year-old was.
Panic, sudden and sharp, flared in Gawin’s chest. He quickly tapped Joss’s contact number and held the phone tight against his ear, his heart thumping heavily against his ribs as he paced back and forth across the polished kitchen tile.
Joss picked up on the second ring. "Hey, babe," his deep, rumbling voice came through, warm and calm.
"Joss! Where are you? Where is Guinzly?" Gawin demanded, his voice rising slightly. "I woke up and no one was home, and the boys didn't know where Guinzly was, and I thought—"
"Hey, hey, breathe, G. It's okay," Joss interrupted gently, a low chuckle escaping him. "Guinzly is right here with me. Look at your phone, I'm switching to video."
Gawin pulled the phone away from his ear as the screen shifted to a FaceTime call. The camera focused on Joss, who was wearing dark sunglasses tucked into his shirt collar, standing inside a high-end luxury children's boutique in EmQuartier. Next to him stood nine-year-old Guinzly, looking like a tiny fashion icon in a tailored linen shirt, oversized shorts, and small designer sunglasses pushed up on his head. Guinzly was holding three different shopping bags.
"Papa!" Guinzly waved enthusiastically at the camera. "Look! Dad bought me the tropical vacation set! I have a matching hat!"
Gawin stared at the screen, entirely speechless for three whole seconds. "Joss... what are you doing?"
Joss brought the phone closer to his face, giving Gawin an apologetic, dimpled grin. "Our little mogul here had a list of 'essential island wardrobe requirements' before he agreed to step foot on a plane," Joss explained, lowering his voice so Guinzly couldn't hear. "He came into the living room while you were sleeping, completely tragic, saying he had nothing proper to wear for the vacation."
"So you took him to EmQuartier?!" Gawin gasped. "Joss, he’s nine! He’s going to grow out of those clothes in four months!"
"I know, I know," Joss laughed softly, leaning against a display rack. "But after the breakdown this morning, I promised myself I would handle everything so you wouldn't have to lift a finger or worry about a single thing. Guinzly was getting restless, and I didn't want him running around the house making noise and waking you up. So... bribe secured. Peace maintained."
Gawin looked at his husband through the screen—this massive, handsome man who had willingly taken their youngest on a high-stress shopping trip just to keep the house silent for him.
A sudden, unexpected wave of warmth blossomed in Gawin’s chest, followed immediately by a strange, heavy fatigue that made his knees feel slightly weak. He leaned his hip against the counter, a faint, soft smile finally breaking through his pale face.
"You're spoiling him," Gawin murmured softly.
"I'm protecting your nap," Joss corrected smoothly, his eyes softening as he looked at Gawin's disheveled hair and sleepy face through the screen. "How are you feeling, G? Did you sleep okay?"
"I slept... a lot," Gawin admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. His stomach gave another small, hollow flutter, a faint pulse of nausea fluttering at the base of his throat before settling down. "My head feels lighter, but my body feels like lead. I think the stress really knocked me out."
"That's completely normal, babe. You've been carrying the whole world on your back for six months," Joss said tenderly. "We're done here. I'm picking up some hot soup and fresh mango sticky rice on the way back. Just sit down, relax, and don't touch any laundry. We'll be home in twenty minutes."
"Okay," Gawin whispered. "Drive safely, Joss."
"Always. Love you."
Gawin hung up the call and stood alone in the quiet kitchen. The house was calm, the chores were handled, and his family was taking care of him. Yet, as he walked back toward the living room sofa to lie down, he couldn't shake the heavy, unusual weight pulling at his limbs, completely unaware of the tiny, miraculous reason his body was demanding so much rest.
The packing day arrived, and for the first time in his married life, Gawin was strictly forbidden from touching a single suitcase.
Joss had turned the grand living room into a full-scale assembly line. Seven oversized hardshell bags were lined up along the sofa and coffee table, each labeled with a bright strip of masking tape where Joss had scrawled individual names and strict packing rules in black Sharpie. There was "Barcode - Clothes Only, NO Cleats," "Poon - Max 2 Pairs of Shoes," and a whole separate, smaller carry-on tagged "Guinzly - Essential Plushies & Roblox Gear Only." or "Guinzly - Checked Weight Limit.".
The house was surprisingly orderly, mostly because Joss was patrolling the ground floor like a drill sergeant, double-checking the tape lists to make sure the boys didn't sneak extra junk into their luggage while they nervously tried to prove they were responsible.
"Dad, why does Guinzly get an entire extra bag just for his stuffed animals?" Barcode complained, holding up a massive plush T-Rex that Guinzly had tried to cram into his main clothes suitcase. "I wasn't even allowed to bring my extra running shoes!"
"Because Guinzly's dinosaurs don't stink up a suitcase like your football gear, Code," Joss replied without missing a beat, checking the weight scale on Poon's bag. "And if bringing his dino crew keeps him quiet on the seaplane so Papa can sleep, then those T-Rexes get first-class accommodation."
Guinzly beamed proudly, carefully hugging his plushie before zipping up his designated dinosaur bag and placing it right next to his main clothes carry-on.
Gawin set his tea mug down on the counter and slowly slid off the high stool, wrapping his cardigan tighter around himself. He walked over to where Guinzly was kneeling on the rug, carefully adjusting a plush Triceratops inside the small carry-on.
Gawin sank down onto his knees beside his youngest son, his movements slow and gentle. He reached out, his hand lightly resting on Guinzly’s soft hair, stroking it with fondness.
"Guinz, sweetie," Gawin spoke softly, his voice low and comforting. "Do you really need to bring the whole dinosaur army? The villa is right over the ocean, and we’re going to be swimming and riding bikes all day. Your dinosaurs might get wet or lost on the island."
Guinzly instantly froze, his little hands tightening around the green T-Rex in his lap. He looked up at Gawin with big, pleading eyes, his lower lip protruding into a weaponized pout.
"They won't get lost, Papa, I'm going to guard them," Guinzly whispered earnestly, clutching the T-Rex closer to his chest. "Rexy gets scared of loud noises, especially the big airplane engines. If I don't bring him, who's going to hold my hand when the plane goes up?"
Gawin looked at his nine-year-old’s completely serious face. He had intended to gently convince him to leave at least half of them at home, but seeing those big, wide eyes and hearing the soft logic of a young child completely melted Gawin’s resolve. A quiet, tired chuckle escaped his lips. His heart felt overwhelmingly soft, an intense wave of affection washing over him that made his chest feel tender.
"Okay," Gawin murmured, leaning in to press a lingering, warm kiss against Guinzly’s forehead. "Rexy comes with us. But you have to carry his bag yourself, deal?"
"Deal! Thank you, Papa!" Guinzly beamed, quickly zipping the small bag shut before giving Gawin a tight, enthusiastic hug around his waist.
Gawin hugged him back, burying his face into Guinzly's hair, feeling a sudden, deep sense of emotional warmth that almost brought unexpected tears back to his eyes.
Over by the sofa, Barcode threw his hands up in mild disbelief. "Unbelievable. Papa, you literally gave me a twenty-minute lecture about taking two pairs of shoes, but Guinzly brings five dinosaurs and gets a kiss on the forehead?"
"Because Guinzly is cute and you're sixteen, Code," Joss interjected smoothly, walking over to offer Gawin a hand to help him stand up from the floor. "And Papa said yes, so the debate is officially over."
Joss gently pulled Gawin back up, wrapping an arm around his waist to support his weight as Gawin rested his head against Joss’s shoulder, completely exhausted from just those few minutes on the floor, but content knowing his family was packed and ready.
Suvarnabhumi Airport was humming with its usual chaotic energy, but the Wayar-Caskey family moved through the departure terminal like a walking fashion magazine spread.
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Leading the pack—or rather, trying his absolute best to keep up—was nine-year-old Guinzly. Dressed in an oversized white sweatshirt, matching slouchy white sweatpants, crisp white sneakers, and a beige baseball cap, he looked adorable as he stubbornly insisted on wheeling two massive black hardshell suitcases that were almost as tall as he was. On top of one suitcase sat a patterned designer tote bag stuffed to the brim with his dinosaur plushies.
"Guinz, do you need help with those?" Barcode laughed, strolling past in his crisp white knit polo shirt, looking entirely effortless. "You look like a walking marshmallow getting crushed by two black blocks."
"I am fine, P'Barcode!" Guinzly grunted, his long sweatshirt sleeves completely covering his hands as he gripped both extended handles, trying to drag them down the polished airport floor. "I am a big boy! I can carry my own stuffed dinosaurs!"
Poon, looking sleek in his all-black outfit topped with his Maison Kitsuné fox cap, shook his head with a quiet smirk, pulling out his phone to record his little brother’s valiant effort.
"Let him try, Code," Joss chuckled softly, walking right behind the youngest with his arm wrapped securely around Gawin's shoulders. Joss was dressed in a sharp blue-striped button-down and white trousers, looking totally relaxed while carrying the heavy duffel bags. "Our little mogul refused to let the airport porters touch his dinosaur bag."
Gawin offered a faint, affectionate smile, leaning his weight slightly against Joss's side. Dressed in his loose white pinstriped shirt, denim shorts, high white socks, and blue LA cap, Gawin looked soft and cozy, though a persistent wave of heavy fatigue still tugged at his limbs. Seeing Guinzly try so hard to be independent made Gawin's heart feel impossibly full, a sudden, warm swell of affection bringing a tender mist to his eyes.
"Guinzly, sweetie, let Dad help you with the big one before you trip," Gawin called out softly, his voice full of warmth.
Guinzly paused, wiping his forehead with his long sleeve, before looking up at Joss with big, pleading eyes. "Okay... Dad can roll Rexy's bag now."
Joss grinned, effortlessly scooping up the heavier black suitcase with one hand while Guinzly proudly rolled the second one straight toward the executive lounge...
Once they settled into the executive lounge near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, Barcode couldn't hold his tongue any longer. He dropped his carry-on onto the floor, crossed his arms, and turned to look at Poon with a theatrical smirk.
"P'Poon, did your phone lose internet connection yesterday, or do you just completely ignore the family group chat out of principle?" Barcode teased, gesturing broadly to Poon's all-black fit. "Look at us! Papa, Dad, Guinzly, and I all got the memo. We’re going to a tropical island, so we're wearing bright whites, light blue stripes, and cozy neutrals. You look like you're heading straight to a underground techno concert."
Poon didn't even blink. He adjusted his black Maison Kitsuné fox cap, casually crossing one leg over the other as he leaned back into the plush lounge chair.
"It’s called classic minimalist aesthetic, Barcode. Look it up," Poon replied, his voice dripping with dry university-student superiority. "While you look like a tennis instructor who lost his racket, I look timeless. Black doesn't show coffee stains, and unlike your bright white knit shirt, I won't look like a walking disaster if the airplane serves tomato soup."
"It's a polo shirt, and it's called fashion!" Barcode shot back, rolling his eyes as he took the seat across from him. "You’re literally the only dark cloud in a sky full of summer clouds. Guinzly is literally in a full white tracksuit, P'Poon! Even the kid understands the tropical dress code better than a Chula student."
"The kid was dragging two black suitcases," Poon pointed out smoothly, pulling his phone out to review the mirror video he’d just taken. "So technically, his luggage matches my soul. Leave me alone."
Gawin couldn't help the soft, breathy laugh that escaped him. Hearing his two eldest boys fall back into their familiar, petty bickering brought a profound, comforting warmth to his chest. He pulled his legs up onto the wide lounge chair, settling back into his short-sleeved white pinstriped shirt and pulling his blue LA cap lower over his eyes.
Joss, sitting right next to him, reached over and wrapped a thick, warm hand around Gawin's knee. He looked over at the boys with a fond smirk before turning his attention to Gawin. "See? Everything is completely normal," Joss whispered softly, his thumb gently caressing Gawin's knee through his denim shorts. "They're still obnoxious, Guinzly is still spoiled, and you don't have to manage a single second of it. Just relax, G."
"I am," Gawin murmured behind his paperback book, his eyelids already feeling impossibly heavy again. The low, familiar hum of Barcode and Poon continuing to argue about outfit palettes merged with the ambient noise of the terminal, lulling Gawin deeper into that persistent, heavy fatigue that he couldn't quite explain.
He leaned his shoulder heavily against Joss's broad arm, resting his book over his chest as he closed his eyes, completely content to let his husband and sons carry the weight of the world while his body worked its quiet magic.
The descent into Velana International Airport was a breathtaking blur of brilliant blues, but Gawin barely caught any of it. He had spent almost the entire four-hour flight from Bangkok sound asleep, his head resting heavily against Joss's shoulder while the boys kept themselves occupied with movie marathons and handheld games.
When the wheels finally touched down in Malé, the sudden rush of humid sea air hit them the moment they stepped off the air-conditioned jet bridge.
The heat was thick, yet refreshing—fragrant with salt water and tropical sun. Guinzly was instantly awake and wide-eyed, dragging his bright orange suitcase along the tiled floor with renewed vigor, his beige cap pulled tight over his hair.
"Papa! Look at the water!" Guinzly gasped, pressing his face against the glass wall of the terminal as they walked toward the resort transfer desk. "It's so blue! It looks like blue raspberry syrup!"
"Don't lick the ocean, Guinz," Barcode warned, adjusting the strap of his carry-on. "And keep up, or P'Poon is going to leave you behind so he can take photos of the clouds."
"I am standing right here, Code," Poon said dryly, though his eyes were fixed on the vibrant turquoise lagoon visible just past the harbor docks. Even in his all-black outfit, he couldn't hide the faint, impressed smile tugging at his lips.
A representative from their private resort was already waiting at the arrival gate, Within minutes, their mountain of oversized luggage—including Guinzly's extra bag of dinosaur plushies—was loaded onto a private luggage cart, completely freeing the family’s hands as they were escorted directly to the resort's luxury speedboat dock.
The moment the twin engines roared to life and pushed out into the open water, the Indian Ocean unfolded around them in endless shades of vibrant turquoise and deep sapphire.
While Gawin was ushered straight to the cushioned, shaded seating area near the back by Joss, Guinzly had completely different plans.
The second the boat slowed down near a shallow, crystal-clear reef on their way toward the resort island, Guinzly sprinted straight to the edge of the open deck. Dressed in his oversized white sweatshirt, his beige cap turned backward, he threw his upper body over the padded railing, reaching his small arms down as far as they could go to spray the sea foam with his fingers.
"Guinzly! Get back here!" Barcode yelled, instantly grabbing the back of Guinzly's blue sweatshirt before his little brother could lean any farther. "Papa, look at him! He's literally trying to dive in!"
"Look! The water is so clear, I can see the blue fish!" Guinzly shrieked in total excitement, his legs practically kicking off the deck as he tried to wriggle out of Barcode's grip. "I wanna jump in right now! P'Code, let me go, I wanna touch the water!"
"Guinzly Sangngern, can you just don't?," Poon said smoothly from his shaded corner. "If you fall in, you'll sink like a stone, and your dinosaur crew will have to come in after you to do a search and rescue."
"They won't drown, Rexy can swim!" Guinzly argued, though he finally allowed Barcode to drag him back onto a seat, his cheeks flushed red with absolute excitement.
Joss laughed loudly, a deep, booming sound that echoed over the rush of the wind. He stood up, towering over the deck as he easily caught Guinzly by his waist, lifting his youngest son into his arms to keep him contained.
"P'Poon is right, little guy. Save the jumping for the villa pool," Joss grinned, setting Guinzly down safely between Poon and Barcode before turning back to Gawin.
Gawin was resting against the plush marine leather sofa, his white pinstriped shirt fluttering softly in the tropical breeze. He had a soft, tired smile on his face, but his skin looked slightly pale, one hand resting flat against his lower stomach as the gentle sway of the boat made a faint, unfamiliar wave of nausea roll through him.
Joss immediately crouched down beside Gawin, his large hand gently cupping Gawin's knee. "Boat motion getting to you, G?"
"A little," Gawin admitted, taking a slow breath of the fresh, salty air. "It's just a strange, sudden dizzy feeling. I think my stomach is just empty."
"We're almost there," Joss promised, pressing a tender kiss against Gawin's knuckles. "Look, the villa dock is right ahead."
Gawin looked over the wooden gunwale. Rising gracefully out of the turquoise lagoon were the iconic wooden overwater villas, private and completely serene—the perfect paradise for his chaotic family, and the quiet sanctuary his weary body so desperately needed.
The master suite of the overwater villa was nothing short of breathtaking. Built directly over the tranquil, crystal-clear lagoon, its expansive floor-to-ceiling glass doors opened up to a massive private deck featuring a stunning infinity pool that seemed to spill straight into the Indian Ocean. It was the crown jewel of the villa. Naturally, the adjoining secondary suites assigned to Barcode and Poon lacked a private pool, meaning the parents' deck instantly became the undisputed command center for the three boys.
From the moment they unpacked, the silence of the tropical paradise was shattered by pure, unadulterated chaotic joy.
Barcode was already in his swim trunks, taking running leaps off the edge of the master deck and cannonballing into the infinity pool with ear-splitting splashes. Guinzly, still wearing his beige cap turned backward, was executing a synchronized splash routine with his plush T-Rex, thoroughly soaking the wooden sun loungers. Even Poon had surrendered his university-student composure; while he stayed out of the water, he was stretched out on a daybed near the edge, laughing as he recorded Barcode’s ridiculous diving attempts on his phone.
Inside the glass doors, however, the world felt vastly different.
The master bedroom was dimly lit, the sheer curtains drawn to block out the blinding Maldivian sun. Gawin lay curled on his side beneath the crisp white duvet, his face uncharacteristically pale. A soft, cold towel was folded over his forehead. What had started as a mild dizziness on the speedboat had rapidly descended into relentless, violent waves of nausea.
He had spent the last two hours practically living on the bathroom floor. Every time he tried to sip warm water or sit up, his stomach churned violently, sending him rushing back to the porcelain bowl.
Joss moved between the two worlds with practiced ease, acting as the ultimate buffer. He stood at the open glass doors, holding a damp washcloth in one hand and a bottle of electrolyte water in the other. His eyes never left the boys outside, keeping a watchful, protective gaze over their poolside antics while maintaining absolute control.
"Barcode! Keep the diving to the deep end, don't jump near the steps!" Joss called out, his deep voice carrying easily over the sound of splashing water. "Guinzly, if that dinosaur ends up at the bottom of the lagoon, I am not diving in to get it. Keep him on the ledge!"
"He's a marine dinosaur, Dad! He likes the deep water!" Guinzly yelled back happily, his small face flushed bright red from the sun and excitement.
Joss chuckled softly, shaking his head, before turning back toward the quiet bed. He crossed the room silently, kneeling beside Gawin's side. The contrast broke Joss’s heart. While the boys were having the time of their lives outside, his husband looked completely drained, dark circles shadows under his eyes.
"How are you feeling, babe?" Joss whispered, gently replacing the warm towel on Gawin’s forehead with a fresh, cool one. "Still churning?"
Gawin swallowed hard, his throat raw from dry-heaving. He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his face into Joss's broad, warm palm. "I don't get it, Joss... I've been on boats before. I've been on long flights. Why won't it stop? My whole body feels heavy, and the smell of the sea air makes me want to throw up again."
"It's just extreme fatigue from the trip, combined with the heat and the boat ride," Joss soothed, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss against Gawin's damp temple. "Your body is just exhausted. Just close your eyes. I've got the kids."
Outside, the noise reached a crescendo. Barcode made a massive splash that sprayed all the way up to the glass doors, sending Guinzly into a fit of breathless giggles as he scrambled across the deck.
Poon lowered his phone, his laughter fading as his eyes drifted past the poolside glass toward the dark bedroom. He had been watching his parents quietly for the past hour. At first, like Joss, he assumed his Papa was just nursing a standard case of travel fatigue or mild motion sickness. But as a medical student, Poon’s trained eye began picking up on subtle details that didn't fit a simple jet-lag narrative.
He noticed how Gawin hadn't touched a single bite of food since yesterday. He saw the subtle, persistent tremor in Gawin's hands when he reached for water, the sheer pallor of his skin, and the way Gawin kept one hand protectively pressed against his lower abdomen every time a fresh wave of dry-heaving racked his body.
Poon stood up from the daybed, dusting off his shorts, and slid the glass door open just enough to slip inside the cool, air-conditioned room.
"Dad," Poon said softly, stepping closer to the bed so he wouldn't disturb Gawin.
Joss looked up, gesturing for Poon to keep his voice down. "Hey. Everything okay out there?"
"Everything's fine with Code and Guinz," Poon whispered, his expression unusually serious as he looked down at Gawin. "But Papa isn't fine. Dad, he’s been dry-heaving for hours, his skin is clammy, and he can't even keep clear fluids down. That's not just motion sickness from a few minutes boat ride."
Joss frowned, a flicker of genuine concern breaking through his calm demeanor. "You think it's heatstroke? Or something he ate at the airport?"
"It could be severe heat exhaustion, or maybe food poisoning from something during transit," Poon analyzed calmly, drawing on his medical textbooks. "If his electrolytes drop too low, he’s going to get severely dehydrated. We shouldn't just wait for it to pass. The resort has a resident doctor on call. We need to have them come up to the villa to check his vitals and give him an IV drip."
Joss looked from Poon's serious face down to Gawin, who was shivering slightly under the blanket despite the tropical heat outside. The realization hit Joss like a cold bucket of water. Poon was right. This was taking too long, and Gawin was far too weak.
"Okay," Joss said immediately, reaching for the bedside landline. "I'm calling the front desk right now."
Within fifteen minutes, a gentle knock echoed at the front entrance of the overwater villa. While Poon stepped outside to round up Barcode and Guinzly—quieting them down and herding them toward the outdoor lounge area so their Papa could have total peace—Joss opened the door to welcome the resort’s resident doctor.
The physician, a calm, middle-aged woman carrying a compact medical kit, stepped into the master bedroom. She offered a warm, reassuring smile as Joss quickly explained Gawin's sudden onset of extreme nausea, dizziness, relentless vomiting, and intense physical exhaustion.
As the doctor opened her kit to pull out a blood pressure cuff and diagnostic tools, a heavy, anxious quiet settled over the villa.
Outside on the deck, all the initial excitement had completely evaporated. The splashing had stopped, and the infinity pool lay completely still. Barcode stood near the edge, dripping wet, wrapping a large white towel tightly around his shoulders. Next to him, Guinzly sat curled up on the wooden daybed, his small hands clutching his plush green T-Rex tightly against his chest. His beige baseball cap was pulled low over his eyes, but it couldn't hide the soft, trembling hitch in his breath.
Guinzly had never seen his Papa like this. To him, Gawin was the soft, endless comfort of home—always there to fix his caps, carry his toys, and give him warm hugs when he was tired. Seeing Gawin lying so motionless in the dark room, pale and shivering, sent a sudden wave of genuine panic through the nine-year-old’s chest.
A single tear tracked down Guinzly's sun-flushed cheek, followed by a soft, sniffling sound that instantly caught his older brothers' attention.
"Hey... Guinz, why are you crying?" Barcode asked gently, dropping to his knees right in front of the daybed. He reached out, brushing a stray teardrop off his little brother’s face. "Papa is just sick, okay? The doctor is going to give him some medicine, and he'll be fine."
"Is... is it because of me?" Guinzly whispered, his voice cracking as he wiped his wet nose on his arm. Big, shiny tears spilled over his eyelashes. "Is Papa sick because of me?"
Barcode blinked, taken aback. "What? Why would it be because of you?"
"Because I made him carry Rexy's heavy bag... and I was running around... and Papa was too tired taking care of me," Guinzly sobbed softly, hiding his face behind his plush dinosaur. "I made Papa exhausted."
Poon, who had been pacing near the glass doors, immediately stepped over and knelt beside Barcode. His usual dry, sarcastic demeanor completely dissolved, replaced by the soft, protective warmth of an eldest brother. Poon gently reached out and pulled Guinzly's hands away from his face, looking straight into his tear-filled eyes.
"Listen to me, Guinzly," Poon said, his tone firm yet infinitely tender as he adjusted the kid's beige cap. "Papa loves taking care of you. You didn't do anything wrong. You were a great boy today, dragging those big suitcases all by yourself, remember?"
"Really?" Guinzly hiccuped, looking up at Poon with wide, hopeful eyes. "I didn't make him sick?"
"Not at all," Barcode chimed in, squeezing Guinzly's knee with a reassuring grin. "Papa's tummy is just throwing a little tantrum because of the long airplane ride and the rocky boat. It happens to adults all the time. P'Poon is practically a doctor, and he said so himself."
"Exactly," Poon nodded, wiping away the last of Guinzly's tears with his thumb. "So no more crying. We just need to sit here quietly, stay strong for Papa, and let the doctor do her job."
Guinzly sniffled one last time, hugging his T-Rex tight against his stomach before offering his brothers a tiny, fragile nod.
Inside the dimly lit master bedroom, Joss stood by the side of the bed, his large hand tightly holding onto Gawin's cold fingers as The resident doctor checked Gawin’s blood pressure, her eyebrows knitting together in quiet concentration. She pulled a penlight from her pocket, checking his pupils, before lightly pressing her fingers against his neck to monitor his pulse.
"His vitals are relatively stable, but his heart rate is elevated, and his body is severely dehydrated," the doctor said softly, keeping her voice low so as not to distress Gawin further. She reached into her medical bag and pulled out a small diagnostic kit, quietly preparing a couple of basic preliminary test strips. "Mr. Wayar, given the sudden onset of intense nausea, dizziness, and extreme fatigue without any fever, I want to run a quick preliminary panel right here to narrow down the cause."
Joss leaned closer, his chest tight with worry as he stroked Gawin's damp hair. "Could it be a virus? Or food poisoning from transit?"
"We will know in just a few minutes," the doctor replied calmly, conducting the rapid test with swift, practiced movements.
Gawin lay quietly, his eyelids heavy, one hand still resting instinctively over his lower stomach. Every breath felt like an effort, but having Joss's steady warmth beside him kept him grounded.