This fic is the backstory of the already established marriage of Phichit and Seung Gil in Law Firm of Katsuki, Nikiforov and Chulanont!

The first time Seung Gil laid eyes on the eternal ball of sunshine that was Phichit Chulanont was the wedding of a couple who Seung Gil didn't know.

The church was ornate with looming ceilings and intimidating religious images staring from every stained glass window. The expansive room was decorated with what had to be all of the red flowers available in the state and smelled heavily of the potent mix of incense and each unique bloom. It was stuffy and formal and Seung Gil had been whispering promises of murder into the ear of his best friend when the music cued the beginning of the ceremony.

He was only there because Victor's boyfriend had dumped him three days prior to the event and Victor already had the plus one RSVPed. There had been begging, pleading and desperate promises to peer review all of Seung Gil's grad school papers for an entire semester, before Seung Gil had finally given in and agreed to be Victor's date. Not that it would count as a date, since they were openly not attracted to each other and securely friends in the truest meaning of the word. The strength of that friendship was the tipping point in Seung Gil's conceding sigh, but it was also that friendship that would allow Seung Gil to properly express his opinions of the festivities. It wasn't Seung Gil's idea of a good time, and he planned to remind Victor of that in periodic cynicisms throughout the night.

Twisting in his seat, Seung Gil noted his other best friend entering through the back doors, escorting a bridesmaid with too much makeup on her face and not enough red fabric on her body. Yuuri looked handsomely awkward in his three piece gray suit, adorned with a red bowtie around his neck. Always the instigator, Seung Gil leaned slightly forward to monitor Victor's reaction. His best friends were in love with each other, but they had seemingly pledged a vow of stupidity for the time being. It didn't stop Seung Gil from keeping tabs on their idiotic behavior, making a mental list of all the ways he could mock them once they finally removed their dunce caps.

He was smirking at the slight hint of blush on Victor's cheeks, which momentarily appeared after Yuuri had winked at them from his place at the front of the church, when he saw Yuuri stick his tongue out. The brown eyes were no longer focused on his friends in the pew and Seung Gil found himself twisting again to determine who Yuuri was playfully teasing.

The third groomsmen, accompanied by a frumpy bridesmaid in an equally horrific and yet different red dress, had a flop of dark hair that was swept to the side across his forehead. Winged eyeliner painted the delicate span above his eyelashes, and his shining lips were pulled into a bright smile, tongue darting out to return Yuuri's gesture. All of his sarcastic quips about men in makeup died on Seung Gil's tongue. There was nothing funny about the way the groomsmen looked, even wearing the same odd three-piece gray suit and dark red bowtie. When the stunning man reached Yuuri, there was playful nudging and Seung Gil found himself notably jealous of his best friend. A feeling, deep inside of him in a place that Seung Gil trusted instinctually, told him that this man, whose name he didn't know, could change his life forever.

"Like what you see?" Victor poked Seung Gil in the cheek, wiggling his eyebrows and nodding towards Seung Gil's source of instant infatuation.

"Do you?" Seung Gil shot back, nodding toward Yuuri with a pointed look directly into Victor's laughing blue eyes. The stuttering was almost automatic, and Seung Gil laughed at Victor's well-rehearsed line of excuses, rising from his seat to wait for the bride to make her way down the aisle.

A wedding ceremony had taken place. Phichit knew this because he had marched down the aisle, stood up and sat down a remarkable amount of times over the last hour, and was preparing to return down that same aisle following the glowing newlyweds. If anyone asked him the details of the ceremony, Phichit would have to lie as he hadn't paid attention to a single word spoken.

It was out of boredom with the ramblings of the ancient Cardinal that Phichit began to scan the wedding guests. The rehearsal the night before had lasted almost three hours and Phichit could feel his feet beginning to ache in his rental shoes as the real wedding ceremony creeped over the hour mark. Desperate for distraction, he looked over the heads of the dutiful guests, counting sleeping children and crying women in an ongoing tally in his head. His mind was sleepy and bored, and his eyes wandered the crowd without true purpose. Until he spotted Victor sitting in the fifth pew among the rest of their law school friends.

There was a singular man in the group that Phichit didn't recognize, but his mind suddenly wanted to know every ounce of available information. The dark eyes and messy black hair made Phichit's heart beat rapidly in his chest. The dark gray suit and blue bowtie were a coincidental compliment to the rented atrocity covering Phichit's body and by the time the rings were being exchanged, Phichit had decided it was fate.

Then the man leaned into Victor's ear and Phichit watched as Victor slapped a hand to his mouth to hide his laughter. His heart sank knowing Victor was bringing his boyfriend to the wedding. Forcing himself to repress his need to pout, Phichit returned his focus to the final moments of the ceremony.

As the music changed and Phichit fell into step with the other groomsmen, he chanced another hopeless glance at the man attached to one of his newest friends. He startled, nearly knocking over the unbalanced bridesmaid on his arm, when the dark eyes met his own. Phichit stumbled over his own feet as their gazes held, watching helplessly as Victor shot him a wink and then said something to make the dark-haired man chuckle. The subtle hint of a smile that ghosted over the thin lips had Phichit's heart and stomach colliding in haphazard somersaults. Whoever he was, Victor's boyfriend or not, Phichit had to meet that man.

The reception was in full swing. Although the young DJ was expertly mixing the songs, the sound was overwhelming in the people-stuffed room. Seung Gil hung back, standing close to the bar and amusing himself by taking in the antics of the bride's drunken family.

Victor had lamented about every detail in the room, from the fabric draped over the ceiling to the intricate braid of blooms that made up the centerpieces. In Seung Gil's mind, it looked like an awful lot of hassle for a five hour celebration and a ridiculous amount of money for an event that could be held in any of the local courthouses.

He had kept these thoughts to himself, not having Yuuri around to play into Seung Gil's sarcastic banter and knowing that too many negative quips would make Victor pout. Victor was a hopeless romantic who could write poetry about table linens, while Yuuri was always on par with Seung Gil's every cynical remark. They were a good balance as a set of best friends, even though Seung Gil was still betting on Victor and Yuuri ending up together. If they ever got their heads out of their asses.

Leaning back against the bar, he slowly shook his head as Victor jokingly danced toward him. "No," Seung Gil stated, his voice flat as he tried to run away from Victor. "No dancing! That was the deal, Nikiforov!" He began to struggle as Victor grabbed the back of his suit jacket to pull Seung Gil toward the dance floor.

"Come on, Gilly," Victor taunted, "your man is out there!"

Stopping short, Seung Gil caught Victor before he could tumble on the ground. "What are you talking about?" Narrowing his eyes, Seung Gil tried to hide the unintentional spike in his heart rate with an intentional growl in his question.

His first mistake was not correcting Victor on the use of the ridiculous nickname. Seung Gil's second mistake was glancing over Victor's shoulder and seeing Yuuri spinning around on the dance floor with none other than the man who Seung Gil wanted for his own. His last, and most fatal mistake, was not taking the opportunity to run away while the chance still existed.

"His name is Phichit," Victor commented, slinging a drunken arm over Seung Gil's shoulders and bumping their hips together. "He is single, in law school with me and Yuuri, and about the nicest guy you could ever meet."

"You nice or Yuuri nice?" Seung Gil inquired, knowing that his grave was already dug and he might as well accept his own embarrassment burial. Victor pretended to be naïve to the people around him, a bizarre act that still confused Seung Gil after years of friendship. In reality though, his best friend was incredibly perceptive and Seung Gil knew it was only their inseparable companionship that allowed Victor to openly taunt Seung Gil about his painfully obvious crush. Victor had purposefully watched Seung Gil as Phichit had made his ridiculously adorable dancing entrance into the reception, and Seung Gil hadn't been able to drive away the blush on his cheeks. Every time he glanced toward Phichit, Victor was there to raise an eyebrow or make kissing sounds. It was actually remarkable that Seung Gil hadn't strangled Victor by that point.

Placing a finger over his mouth, drink precariously balanced between two other fingers, Victor tilted his head in consideration. "He is definitely me nice," tipping the rest of the brown colored liquid down his throat, Victor sat the glass down on the nearest table before continuing. "He has a really sweet sense of humor, not all the sass and glass that you and Yuuri have." Tugging on Seung Gil's sleeve, Victor pouted with a nod toward the dance floor.

Giving in, Seung Gil let his idiot friend pull him into the repetitive lines of the cupid shuffle. "Did you say sass and glass?" He shouted over the music, raising a judgmental eyebrow at Victor who laughed into his next four count.

"YUURI!" Phichit yelled over the music, feeling the sweat beginning to gather over his back as he tossed his suit jacket over the nearest chair. "Who is that guy with Victor?" He fell into step next to Yuuri, admiring the drunken swirl of the usually calm hips attached to his friend's body.

"Who?" Yuuri squinted at Phichit, making Phichit laugh. Turning in a slow, winding circle in time with the beat, Yuuri glanced over his shoulder to where Victor was dancing.

Phichit did not miss the moment when Yuuri's eyes flicked down to their mutual friend's backside. Poking Yuuri's cheek, Phichit smirked at him. "I saw that," he laughed as Yuuri began to flush pink across his cheeks. "That guy, with Victor." Nodding his head to the right as they danced their four count to the left, Phichit waited for Yuuri to once again look over his shoulder and get distracted by Victor. Huffing in frustration, Phichit shook Yuuri's shoulders. "Can you two please just bang and put this thing to rest?" It was a running joke from the moment Phichit had met Yuuri and Victor, and one that he didn't plan to let up any time soon.

Flinging out an arm, Yuuri smacked at Phichit's side, yelping when Phichit grabbed a hold of his wrist. The music slid into something slower, and Phichit pulled Yuuri into him to dance. "Tell me about the guy, or I grab the mic and announce your love for Victor Nikiforov," it was cruel, but he needed Yuuri to focus. "I'm going to count to three…"

"His name is Seung Gil!" Yuuri shouted, directly into Phichit's ear. "He isn't with Victor, he was Victor's roommate in undergrad and one of our mutual best friends." Pulling back Yuuri peered at Phichit's face with interest. "You want to meet him?"

The word yes was screaming in Phichit's brain but the word would not push passed his lips. Instead he stared dumbfounded as if Yuuri had spoken to him in another language. Closing his eyes, Phichit tried to breathe through the parade of excited nerves. Regaining himself, he responded, "sure, I-" the words were cut off as two bodies slammed into them.

"Hey Yuuuuuurriiiii," Victor's drunken slur had Phichit giggling into the back of his hand. "Dance with me, Yuuuurrriiii!"

Relinquishing his grip on Yuuri's waist, Phichit shoved his friend into Victor's arms, watching them sway intimately together over the dance floor. Yuuri also showed signs of approaching drunkenness and the two were always one dangerous look away from finally dropping their inane pretense of only being friends. Looking between them, Phichit was stunned into silence as he processed the existence of Seung Gil a few inches from his shoulder.

"Would you like to dance?" Seung Gil heard the words slip past his lips and wondered if this was what an out-of-body experience felt like. He had never in his life considered asking a stranger to dance, but there was something naturally alluring about Phichit. When a slight nod responded in the affirmative, Seung Gil slipped a nervous hand around Phichit's waist and pulled them together. When their hands connected, extended to their sides in perfect frame, Seung Gil swore his heart stopped beating for a moment.

Seung Gil was slightly taller than him, and thinner in build than Phichit had expected. When their chests pressed together, Phichit could feel the hint of muscle hiding under the formal suit and the thrill of possibility vibrated up his spine. Letting his fingers linger over the line of Seung Gil's open coat, Phichit finally let his hand rest against the strong shoulder. Glancing up, he found Seung Gil's intense stare once again focused directly on Phichit's eyes. The slight blush of Seung Gil's cheeks had Phichit barely resisting the urge to lift his hand and stroke the soft skin. Instead, Phichit swallowed against his nerves and smiled. "I'm Phichit, by the way." He could easily reason that Victor had probably already identified him, but he wanted to introduce himself properly.

"I like you," Seung Gil replied, going wide-eyed with his own misstep. "I mean it… I like it… I like your name." He was an idiot of epic portions. His only saving grace was that Victor and Yuuri were too busy trying to twirl and dip each other to overhear his embarrassing slip up. It wasn't like him to jumble his words, everything Seung Gil did was calculated and precise. Holding Phichit close to him was screwing with his brain and he wasn't sure that he hated it. "Seung Gil," he said, answering the question that hadn't been asked.

"That's unique!" Phichit chirped, letting himself be lead across the dance floor. They nearly collided with Yuuri and Victor, who were in the middle of complicated steps that resembled a mock bullfight. "Oh my God, our friends are ridiculous." Spinning, Phichit returned to Seung Gil's arms to find his dance partner smiling.

"Ridiculously in love." He wasn't ignoring the fact that Phichit had somehow become even closer. His body was definitely not ignoring the way Phichit's leg shifted between Seung Gil's. If he hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now and he increased his hold on Phichit's waist with a sweaty palm pressing into the small of Phichit's back. His brain was short-circuiting, only existing to process the beauty of Phichit's flawless skin and the aromatic scent of his subtle cologne. The desire to touch Phichit, to run his fingers over the sculpted cheek bones and graze the swoop of Phichit's neck was beginning to overwhelm Seung Gil's rational side. Dropping his head lower, Seung Gil indulged in the urge to touch his nose to Phichit's.

The breath caught in Phichit's throat with the simple brush of affection. His face flushed pink as he returned the brush of Seung Gil's nose with his own. An unreasonable urge overtook Phichit as he lifted his eyelids to gaze into the dark pools Seung Gil's eyes. He wanted to kiss a man who he had known only for minutes, and Phichit wondered how crazy he would be if he went through with it. Smiling with the quiver of nerves twitching at the corners, Phichit let his hand trail across Seung Gil's shoulder, fingertips circling gentle caresses at the base of Seung Gil's hairline.

He was never reckless. No decision Seung Gil ever made came without careful weighing of the pros and cons. He was famous for his lists, carefully folded pieces of paper which held detailed accounts of both sides of any possibility. And yet, in that moment, there only seemed to be one side of the list and every item on it was labeled as a positive. Studying the sparkling shine in Phichit's eyes, Seung Gil leaned in.

"You guys!" Victor tackled them from the side, disrupting the almost kiss. "Yuuri! Look at Yuuri!"

Feeling the disappointment rush over him, Phichit sighed and turned toward Victor's excited flailing. In the middle of the dance floor Yuuri was flipping into a handstand, shirt unbuttoned with his bowtie secured over his head like a sweatband. Bursting out laughing, Phichit sagged against Seung Gil's side, feeling elated as Seung Gil's arm snaked back around his waist.

"He looks a like a break dancing Snow White with his tie like that," Seung Gil commented, glancing down as Phichit began to laugh harder. He found that he loved the sound and wanted to find a way to enjoy it forever. Noting that he must be losing his mind entirely, Seung Gil snapped his head back up as Victor shook his shoulder.

"I loooooovvvvvve that maaaaaaan!" Victor yelled, declaration slurred with alcohol as he rejoined Yuuri on the dance floor.

"They won't remember any of this in the morning," Seung Gil said shaking his head. It wouldn't be the first time that one of his best friends had drunkenly declared their love for the other, and he was certain it wouldn't be the last. "I should probably collect them. Sometimes they…" he trailed off as he watched Yuuri shed his shirt completely and use it to pull Victor against him. "That…" waving a hand towards his friends, Seung Gil dropped his arm from Phichit's waist. With a final nod, Seung Gil went to collect the amateur strippers before they were kicked out of another venue.

"Thanks for the dance!" Phichit called out too late, face falling as he observed Seung Gil attempting to wrestle Yuuri and Victor from the reception hall. Those two were going to owe Phichit for ruining his chance with Seung Gil and Phichit would make sure they would pay up.

The devil himself was responsible for eleven a.m. check out times. Groaning into his hangover, Phitchit rolled into the plush hotel pillow, slapping out to silence his alarm and wish for death.

After Seung Gil had successfully wrangled Victor and Yuuri from the hall, Phichit had drowned his disappointment in a regrettable amount of alcohol. His last clear memory was leaning over the bar, daring the bartender to mix any five things and promising to drink it. The memory was filled with remorse, as was the headache banging into Phichit's skull with tiny malicious hammers.

From the night stand came the sound of his text notifications and Phichit barely resisted the urge to violently fling his phone across the room. Releasing another groan which was accompanied by the stench of his alcohol tainted morning breath, he pulled the phone from the charger and winced at the screen.

"Food, football, recovery," Victor's text read, "four o'clock, real clothing optional." Typing his own two word response, Phichit let his phone drop onto the bed before smashing a pillow to his face.

Yuuri was supposed to share the hotel room with him, but it was obvious that Seung Gil had dragged both him and Victor away from the venue completely. It was probably for the best, as Phichit sometimes became handsy when drunk and he wasn't positive that advances wouldn't have been made on Yuuri. They had been friends for almost a year now, and while Phichit was absolutely convinced that Yuuri and Victor were meant to be, it didn't mean that a slight crush hadn't flitted through his mind.

The possibility had been completely obliterated by the appearance of Yuuri and Victor's claimed best friend. Even now, lying hungover and sweaty in the hotel bed, Phichit could easily recall the shaking thrill of being pressed against Seung Gil. He should have kissed him, Victor and Yuuri's drunkenness be damned.

Pushing from the bed, Phichit dragged his body into the shower, acutely aware of the limited time he had to vacate the room. He would stumble his way back to his own apartment, and hopefully pass out for a few more hours before heading to Victor and Yuuri's. Maybe, if he had enough energy left by the end of the day, he would tell them exactly how they had screwed up his life.

Most of his body was aching as Seung Gil sat up, stretching from his curled position on Victor's and Yuuri's couch. They were wrongly convinced that the lumpy blue cushions held some sort of secret comfort and Seung Gil was regretting not dropping them into the same bed the night before. He would have felt terrible if they had made drunken decisions that they wouldn't make sober, so he had doomed himself to the couch after tossing each of their drunk bodies into their respective beds.

The apartment was still quiet, and Seung Gil tiptoed into the kitchen to make coffee. It was nearly noon and he groaned, feeling the loss of an entire day upon him. Somewhere in the living room, he had dropped his school bag and Seung Gil resolved to study until at least one of the resident morons showed signs of life.

"Coffeeeeeee…" came the exaggerated moan from behind Seung Gil making him jump. Peering over his shoulder, he spotted Victor leaning head first against a wall wearing nothing but pajama bottoms.

"Morning, sunshine," Seung Gil quipped sarcastically, holding out a mug to Victor. "Feeling awesome today, aren't we?" He had never missed an opportunity to tease a hungover Victor and he wasn't going to start now. The bitterness of the almost kiss with the beautiful Phichit was still virulent in his mind.

"Die," Victor groaned, flopping into a dining room chair. "No Yuuri yet?" The silver hair remained splayed over Victor's arm, no sign of any desire to move occurring.

"It isn't even noon yet," Seung Gil said, purposefully setting his mug down a little too loud on the table. "He won't surface for at least two more hours. If it would make you feel better, you could always go cuddle him." Usually, Seung Gil spaced out his digs at Victor's and Yuuri's relationship, but the extra layer of regret had him feeling snarkier than normal. He would drop the subject before Yuuri woke up, knowing that a hungover Yuuri was a sensitive Yuuri, and he didn't have energy for that.

"You know," Victor started, wincing as he lifted his head, "if you don't stop that nonsense, I am going to kick you out before Phichit gets here."

The heavy thud of Victor's sizable forehead against the table made Seung Gil snicker, as the nervous tickle began to play in his throat. Phichit was coming to the apartment. Seung Gil would have a chance to see him without the dimmed lights and talk to him without the pounding soundtrack. The possibilities were circling each other at warp speed in Seung Gil's mind and he found himself sinking into the closest chair with an overwhelming ache in his chest. "When?" was all he could manage, sipping his coffee to attempt to mask his useless grasp of the English language.

"Four o'clock," came the muffled answer from Victor's still dropped head, "food, football, flirting and fuc-"

"Don't finish that thought, Nikiforov," Seung Gil threatened, the venom leaking out with deadly force. He knew the last word in Victor's sentence. He had regrettably let his mind wander to that same thought in the wee hours of Sunday morning. It had taken all of his self-control to squash it from his mind, and he was not going to let some ridiculous joke bring it back.

"Whatever you say, Gilly," Victor taunted, raising one hand into the air in surrender. "I'm going to go die now, see you in a few hours." Slumping from the table, Victor made his way down the hall, pausing briefly outside of Yuuri's door before continuing on to his own.

Alone again, Seung Gil stared at his coffee hoping it could give him the courage he needed to ask Phichit on a date.

Victor's and Yuuri's apartment was approximately fourteen blocks from Phichit's. On a good day, he would jog to their front door or ride his bike, enjoying the short burst of physical exertion.

Sunday was not a good day. Dragging himself from his own bed, Phichit yanked his car keys from the hook and plodded from his apartment. Coffee and fast food breakfast had pushed him closer to human, and the few hours of sleep he managed to get in had tipped the scale. He was almost fully functioning by the time he parked in the parking garage under his friends' apartment building, and he opted to walk the three flights of stairs to the shared place.

He was exceptionally glad that Victor had nixed the idea of real clothes. Phichit did not enjoy being in public in his ratty sweatpants and thin t-shirt from his undergraduate days, but Victor's and Yuuri's place didn't count as public, so he had rolled out in his most comfortable outfit. Finally reaching the front door, he knocked lightly, resting his still aching head against the cool metal door frame.

Seung Gil pulled the door open, witnessing Phichit leaning against the door frame, long dark lashes resting against smooth cheeks. It was possible that freshly washed, no makeup, comfy clothes Phichit was more breath-taking than the elegant Adonis Seung Gil had met the prior night. His entire body reacted to Phichit's existence and he cursed himself for being such a sap.

The hint of a curse word from a mere foot from him had Phichit opening his eyes. There had been no indication that Seung Gil would be there, and Phichit suddenly had the urge to sprint down the stairs in search of fashionable clothes and proper facial adornments. Blushing, knowing that he looked like a homeless person on a bad day, Phichit scratched the back of his head and awkwardly waved at Seung Gil. "Well, hey there," he said, wincing at how astoundingly cheesy he sounded.

"Hey," Seung Gil said, unable to form other words. Phichit had raised an arm to do something with his hair, and a sliver of perfectly tanned abdomen muscles had been revealed under the hem of Phichit's shirt. If Seung Gil had functioning linguistic skills, they were nowhere to be found.

"What's the plan here?" Yuuri asked, approaching the lust-frozen statutes masquerading as Phichit and Seung Gil. "I would suggest not standing here awkwardly staring at each other, but that's just me." Letting out a small huff, Yuuri rubbed a hand on his side where Seung Gil had elbowed him. "Come on, foods ready." Throwing out a hand, Yuuri snagged Phichit by the wrist and yanked him into the apartment.

"Yuuri made katsudon!" Victor called happily from his place at the table, already shoveling food into his mouth. "Best hangover food ever," he hummed happily, barreling into his bowl without a second of hesitation.

Phichit watched as Yuuri took his seat opposite Victor and Seung Gil took the seat between them. Pulling the chair, Phichit sank down, sitting directly across from Seung Gil. Feeling self-conscious, Phichit lifted the chopsticks from his bowl and took his first bite of food.

"I know I was really drunk last night," Yuuri spoke, swallowing the last of his mouthful before finishing his thought, "but you two almost kissed, right?" His eyes were downcast, focused on constructing his next bite and completely missing the bright red tint to Seung Gil's and Phichit's ears.

"Yeah, and you two sang love songs to each other the entire ride home," Seung Gil chanced a glance up at Phichit who was staring at him with a gapping look. "They did, for the record." He continued to keep his gaze on Phichit's face hoping his point was getting across. "Do you date?"

The question was out before Seung Gil could stop himself. Sometime in his distracted attempts to study over the afternoon hours, he had hypothesized that Phichit was probably romantically inclined like Victor. He thought doodled ideas of asking Phichit out with bouquets of roses, or showing up at the end of one of Phichit's classes to ask him on a surprise date. None of those ideas were within Seung Gil's comfort zone, but they were all on Victor's long list of things he wanted from a boyfriend and Seung Gil figured it wouldn't hurt to steal a few.

"Date?" Phichit repeated Seung Gil's last word, trying to quiet the squeaky hamster conga line prematurely celebrating in his head. "Like in general or specifically?" He swallowed, feeling as if his tongue was too big for his mouth and the Sahara desert had taken up residence in his throat.

"Specifically," training his eyes toward his own food, Seung Gil refused to look up. He could feel all three sets of eyes boring into him and the heat was flooding to his face. "Me, specifically, actually. Us. On a date." Seung Gil sounded like a four year old trying to form sentences for the first time and he winced realizing the current lack of intelligence he was exhibiting.

"I would like that," Phichit answered, wiggling in his seat with happiness. It wasn't a grand gesture of romance, but somehow it felt exactly perfect. Grinning across the table at Yuuri who gave him a thumbs up, Phichit excitedly reached across the table to squeeze Seung Gil's wrist. "I would like that a lot."

Smiling into his bowl, Seung Gil nodded, eyes drifting to Phichit's hand on his wrist. He was going to get a second chance at that kiss, and this time, he was going to make sure that Victor and Yuuri were as far away as possible.