Scene: The Grid – Couple Race Day
The crowd was roaring. Engines screamed, rubber burned, and tension in the air could be cut with a spoiler.
Today was the couple race.
Each team had to drive a two-seater track car through five intense laps — switching drivers halfway.
And of course, our chaotic lovebirds:
Joong & Dunk.
Red and black car. Matching gloves. Unbothered. Ready to flirt and win.
Joong smirked, leaning toward Dunk in the pit stop before the race.
“Win with me, trouble.”
Dunk winked, “Try to keep up, racer boy.”
—
Start!
They dominated.
Smooth turns. Aggressive passes. Shameless flirting through helmet radios.
Halfway, they switched — and Dunk owned the second half like he was born on tires.
Final lap. Finish line. Victory.
They won.
And guess what?
Straight to Dunk’s garage, slammed the door, and… well.
Let’s just say the post-race celebration was more intense than the race itself.
Car hood. Greasy handprints. Loud moans. Unholy noises.
Joong: “You’re my trophy, trouble.”
Dunk: “Then win me every time.”
—
Meanwhile, watching from the top lounge, stood two spectators.
Nanon — dimple demon, arms crossed, sipping Coke like it’s whiskey.
Nani — diva mode activated, sunglasses on, judging everything.
Then… he appeared.
Ohm.
Leaning casually against the railing. Black fitted shirt. Calm. Holding a water bottle like a gun.
And staring.
Right. At. Nanon.
Not blinking.
Not smiling.
Just. Watching.
Nani: “Why is that sniper looking at you like he's planning your death and wedding at the same time?”
Nanon, deadpan: “I don’t fucking know.”
Ohm tilted his head. Sipped water. Still didn’t break eye contact.
Nanon glared.
Typed something. Ohm’s phone pinged.
He opened the message:
“Stop staring or I’ll blind you.”
A minute later, he got a reply:
“Try. Darling.”
With a heart. And a bullet emoji.
Nanon blinked.
Nani gasped.
“Oh. My. God. He’s flirting.”
“He’s threatening.”
“That’s flirting for people like you.”
Below, Joong and Dunk walked out of the garage — looking disheveled, lips red, hair messy, and Joong literally holding Dunk’s waist like he was about to carry him back in.
Mashrufa texted the group chat:
“Joong & Dunk: Still the horniest.
Nanon & Ohm: Soft launch.”
The chaos has only just begun.
—
Chapter 1: The Dimple in the Code
The late afternoon sun spilled gold through the soft, pastel windows of Santa’s café, warm light dancing over the fresh pastries and the absurdly shaped cookies — frogs, ducks, and one very weird attempt at a Porsche.
Nanon sat with a devilish smirk, one leg crossed over the other, an espresso in hand and a plate full of froggy cookies in front of him. His dimple flashed once — and everyone at the table knew trouble was coming.
Around the table: Santa, Prem, Phuwin, Dunk, and Nani.
They were roasting their husbands — respectfully, of course. Well… mostly.
“Perth wore a whole Gucci suit just to apologize for forgetting our anniversary,” Santa sighed, shaking his head. “I didn’t even notice he forgot. He told on himself.”
“Boun called me Princess in front of a courtroom this morning,” Prem added. “A judge almost smiled. I nearly died.”
“Pond made Precious the password to our joint account,” Phuwin said. “He thinks it’s romantic. I think it’s public endangerment.”
“Joong made me a whole sex playlist,” Dunk groaned. “It’s titled ‘For Trouble Only.’ I wish I was kidding.”
“All of you are in hell,” Nani deadpanned. “Deserved.”
But Nanon? He didn’t join the complaint club. He was too busy sliding his iPad across the table. On screen: Joong and Dunk, tangled on top of a car, fogged windows, clothes askew, one of Joong’s rings visible gripping Dunk’s thigh like claim.
Everyone screamed.
“YOU HACKED GRID?” Santa gasped.
“No,” Nanon said sweetly. “I hacked the city traffic cams outside Grid. I'm ethical.”
Phuwin was choking. Prem looked half-proud, half-ready to call a lawyer. Dunk just covered his face.
“You’re the most dangerous person I’ve ever met,” Prem muttered.
“And the cutest,” Nanon added, sipping his espresso. “Never forget the dimple.”
Then, casually, he opened another tab. Security footage. Government-level encrypted. A list of ministers. Corporate dealings. Scandals. Codes only Nanon understood.
The room went quiet.
“You know… everything,” Phuwin said.
Nanon smiled slowly, dimple flashing like a weapon.
“Everything worth knowing.”
Suddenly, his phone pinged. A message.
Unknown number:
“You forgot to blur the car’s plate. Careless, Dimple.”
—Ohm
Nanon stared.
Santa leaned over. “Who’s that?”
“No one,” Nanon lied instantly, swiping the message away — but not before saving the number, encrypting it under Do Not Touch (🔥).
Ohm. That annoying, hot, sniper son of a bitch who kept staring at him like he wanted to dissect his soul or maybe… something filthier.
Nanon popped a frog cookie into his mouth, lips curling.
“Let the stalking games begin.”
End of Chapter 1.
YOU ARE READING
His itior
Fanfictionhow much a person can be obsessed with someone? ohm pawat is nothing without nanon korapat. his breathing system. nanon was crazy. nanon always knew. always. sniper x hacker bl
