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Shay (M) Morning After Sneak Peek
🕑 Added 2025-10-18 01:00:05 +0000 UTC
29 December
You wake to the sounds of Shay snoring lightly, smiling at the thought that even the air whistling out of his parted lips sounds strangely musical. Some time during the night, he'd ended up kicking the sheets off the bed entirely, and they now lie in a heap on the ground.
*if had sex with Shay last night
The light filtering in through the bamboo blinds paint thin, golden slits across Shay's tan, lean body.
Even though there's a slight stirring of arousal in your gut at the sight of all that bare skin, the reminder of the toe-curling height of sensations you'd been brought to last night mostly also brings a bittersweet twinge. Will this morning together be your last?
*if not
The light filtering in through the bamboo blinds paint thin, golden slits across Shay's tan, muscled shoulders.
CONTINUE
Outside, you can hear the faint sounds of Auntie Pearl bustling about the kitchen, probably making herself breakfast.
Last night feels like an eon ago now, a whisper of a good dream that's already disappearing into the hazy reaches of your subconscious. Teasing banter, Shay's deep, hoarse laugh as you made your way through the colorful booths, his prowess at the festival games resulting in a stash of stuffed toys that now sit on his desk, his sure hands on your hips as you'd swayed and shimmied together to the music on the lawn, then your hands on his during the motorcycle ride back home…
The blossoming intimacy between you had developed so quickly that you’d barely had time to notice until you were already in deep. Now you're waking up next to him, two days before you're meant to leave for New York.
*if Shay commit
Before falling asleep last night, you'd even exchanged earnest promises to keep the relationship going beyond this week. But those were made curled up around each other in the dim shadowy sacred space halfway between consciousness and sleep.
Your overactive imagination conjures up images of the two of you living together, waking up next to each other every morning, going on little adventures together every weekend. How you yearn for that life to be yours.
*else
None of you have taken the plunge and committed to anything beyond this week. You’ve succeeded in holding back from making any promises you can’t keep.
Of course, you know the most rational thing to do is to leave all of this behind when you leave for New York—but there's a part of you that just can't help thinking about keeping it going… and seeing where it could lead.
...
CHOICE
Stare at Shay, trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.
Refuse to be sentimental.
#Stare at Shay, trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.
You stare quietly at Shay, trying to commit every last detail of this moment to memory.
If this ends up being the last time you wake up next to Shay, then you want to remember as much of it as you can.
Shay continues to snore lightly, limbs splayed out in four different directions, right arm resting gently on your abdomen. With a growing lump in your throat, you let your gaze linger on the sweep of his jaw, his expressive lips—slightly parted, the muscular set of his shoulders, which effortlessly gives off his athleticism even in repose.
#Refuse to be sentimental.
You refuse to let yourself dwell. For now, you just want to enjoy each moment while it lasts.
You drink in Shay's presence next to you, his light snoring, the warmth of his body, limbs splayed out in four different directions, right arm resting on your abdomen. Then you take a deep breath, and scoot a little bit closer.
CONTINUE
Shay stirs, blinking at you."Wha…" his gaze slowly focuses on your face, eyes crinkling at the edges as his lips curl up in a big, easy grin. "Morning, beautiful."
"Morning," you murmur back.
Shay moves closer so he can wrap his left arm around you. The other hand is pillowed under his own right cheek. "We wanted to stay up until daybreak, to make the most of last night,” he says sleepily. “What happened to that?”
*if you had sex with Shay last night
Your mind goes back to the wild, magical night you’d had together. Every kiss, every touch, every crest of overflowing pleasure had felt gold-edged, hallowed, weighty and unforgettable. Each moment of physical and emotional intimacy had felt so raw and immediate that it had driven every other thought from your brain. Neither of you had wanted the night to end.
But eventually, sleep must’ve claimed you both at some point in the middle of the night
You laugh and nudge Shay with a toe. “We failed, is what happened,” you say lightly. “Anyway, you clearly needed the sleep—heard you snoring away a second ago.”
Shay laughs as well, and hooks a leg and arm over your body, drawing you even closer. He nuzzles his nose against yours, still smiling. “Can I make up for it this morning?”
Of course it makes your heart flutter. Goddamn Shay, and the sparkle in his eye when he says it.
*else
Your mind goes back to the warm, magical night you’d had together, whispering to each other late into the night, secrets and stories gleaming raw and precious between you, weighty and unforgettable. The emotional intimacy had felt so raw and immediate that you’d been unable to think about anything else—and neither of you had wanted the night to end.
But eventually, sleep must’ve claimed you both at some point in the middle of the night.
You laugh and nudge Shay with a toe. “We failed, is what happened,” you say lightly. “Anyway, you clearly needed the sleep—heard you snoring away a second ago.”
Shay laughs as well, and hooks a leg and arm over your body, drawing you even closer. He nuzzles his nose against yours, still smiling.
CHOICE
(Committed) Lean in and capture Shay's lips in a kiss.
(Not committed) Capture Shay's lips in a kiss. Even if it's the last time, I can't stop myself.
(Either) Hold Shay in my arms.
#Lean in and capture Shay's lips in a kiss. (Committed)
You close the rest of the distance between you, pressing a kiss to Shay's lips.
You think of this kiss as one in a long line of future kisses, a promise of sweeter days to come, and seal your commitment in the language of lips and shared, mingled breaths.
When you break apart, Shay's breathing hard. He traces the line of your jaw with his fingers, and you lean into his touch. "Whatever comes next," you whisper, "We'll figure it out. Together."
#Capture Shay's lips in a kiss. Even if it's the last time, I can't stop myself. (Not Committed)
You're probably just making it worse for yourself later—but you can't help it. When Shay looks at you the way he is right now, no amount of self-control in the world can save you.
You take a deep breath, then surrender to the ache. Shay's dark, thick eyelashes flutter as he closes his eyes. Shay's lips are soft against yours, his hands tangling in your hair. You kiss him slowly, pouring every dream, every unspoken promise into it, anchoring yourself in this moment, in this borrowed slice of eternity.
The kiss has the lingering sweetness of forever, the deep rich urgency of now, the slight bitter edge of goodbye.
When you finally break away, both of you are breathing hard. Shay rests his forehead against yours. You try to convince yourself that you don't have to own something to be changed by it forever.
#Hold Shay in my arms.
*if committed to Shay
You dream of a long string of mornings just like this one, tomorrow and the day after. Shay hadn’t really seemed like the sort of person who settles down after just a week. But both of you seem to have found something deeper than you’d expected.
When Shay puts his strong arms around you and holds you tight, your body gives a small shiver in response. This warm tender hug feels like a watershed moment—a sign that beyond the loud, exhilarating thrill of your attraction to each other, there’s a quiet, stable foundation being built beneath the initial spark.
*else
There's something terrifying about continuing to step deeper into quicksand when you're already up to your neck. When Shay looks at you like this, it takes all the self control in the world not to draw closer, but somehow, you manage it.
Shay puts his strong arms around you and holds you tight.
Your body gives a small, involuntary shiver. In your imagination, a whole eternity stretches before you, close enough to reach out and grasp. A world where you could kiss Shay this morning, and the morning after that, and all the mornings after—with no fear of it all crashing down on you.
Shay rests his forehead on yours. You sigh, slowly making peace with the possibility that you might soon lose this feeling of Shay's body, entangled with yours, the solid and tangible comfort of being wedged in the circle of his arms.
CONTINUE (All paths—kiss/cuddle) converge here
*If Shay committed
Facing each other after, noses nearly touching, you hold Shay's gaze.
"Seven thousand miles," Shay murmurs. His eyes shine with unshed tears. "I googled it last night. Seven thousand miles between Singapore and New York."
"God," you say. “That sounds like a lot.”
*if not committed to Shay
You don't voice it out loud, but you do think, seven thousand miles, but it might as well be a whole universe away. If the two of you go back to your own separate lives, there'd be much more than an ocean standing between you.
"By the way,” Shay says, changing the topic. “Some lines for a song came to me before I fell asleep last night." The corners of his lips curl up into a crooked, unusually bashful smile. "Wanna hear it?"
CHOICE
"Of course,” I say earnestly. “Do you even have to ask?!"
Blink warily. "Is it going to break my heart?"
"Is the song about me?" I tease, as lightheartedly as I can muster.
#"Of course,” I say earnestly. “Do you even have to ask?!"
You sit up, eyes shining. Already, your heart's doing somersaults.
Shay gets up to fetch his guitar from the other side of the room. He settles back onto the bed next to you, cradling the guitar in his arms. He gives you a soft smile. For someone who's usually so brazenly self-assured, you notice the uncharacteristic flicker of self-consciousness in Shay's expression.
You rest a hand on his thigh, and give him a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, I'm sure I'll think it's brilliant, even if it's about the glory of pandan waffles or something."
#Blink warily. "Is it going to break my heart?"
There's a sharp pang in your chest. Without even hearing the song, your heart already feels like it’s being squeezed up your throat. To be honest, you're already halfway to having your heart broken.
"I... hope not," Shay murmurs, flashing you a crooked smile. "I'm not a fan of sad songs or sad endings." For someone who's usually so brazenly self-assured, you notice the uncharacteristic flicker of self-consciousness in Shay's expression.
"What are you a fan of, then?" you ask, voice slightly hoarse.
"Happily ever afters," Shay says, not missing a beat. "I want that for us."
The two of you stare at each other for a second longer, before Shay breaks the tense, electric silence by climbing out of bed. He fetches his guitar from the other side of the room, then settles back onto the bed next to you.
#"Is the song about me?" I tease, as lightheartedly as I can muster.
You grin at Shay teasingly, trying your best to tamp down the fluttering of your heart.
Shay laughs, but his cheeks flush a little underneath his tan complexion. "Nah," he murmurs, lips curling upward in a crooked smile. "I've fallen head over heels for you, but the thing I really want to sing about is the amazing pandan waffles we had yesterday night."
You blink, heart stuttering at the 'fallen head over heels' part, before you finally process the rest of the sentence. "Oh, bummer," you say softly. "It's okay though, I'm sure it's still a good song."
The two of you stare at each other, still trying—but this time, failing quite miserably—at remaining unserious.
Shay breaks the tense, electric silence by climbing out of bed. He fetches his guitar from the other side of the room, then settles back onto the bed next to you.
CONTINUE
Shay shoots you a wry look. "Okay. Hopefully it sounds as good out loud as it did in my head last night."
*if watched Shay perform live
"Shay, I hate to sound this sappy, but you make even the worst pop song sound good," you say. "'Grandma got hit by a reindeer,' case in point." Though you'd said it to reassure him, you find that you genuinely mean every word. You're attracted to Shay for many reasons, but the way he is able to speak right to your heart when he sings is definitely one of them.
Shay laughs. "Excuse you, 'Grandma got hit by a reindeer' is a classic."
*else
"Shay, I hate to sound this sappy, but I'd still like you if you turn out to be the most horrifically tone-deaf singer I've ever heard."
Shay laughs. "Okay, that's good to know."
...
Shay sings a couple of notes, warming up his vocals, then strums some chords as a test before pausing to nod at you.
Shay begins plucking at the guitar, starting slow at first, then picking up slightly. It reminds you of waking up to the low gentle patter of rain in the early morning. Then, Shay begins to sing. His mellow, oak-timbered voice weaving a spell that makes time slow to a honeyed crawl.
The melody reaches right into your chest, and wraps its tendrils tightly around your heart. You stare right into his eyes, and let yourself be ensnared, led by his siren-song.
Finally, Shay raises his voice one octave higher, adjusting the lyrics just slightly so that each line ends in a question, reversing them so that they become mirrors to the beginning verse—plaintive and haunting. At the very end, he stops strumming completely. Shay's voice, unadorned and achingly bare, carries the final line through to its conclusion.
*if Shay commit
"I caught lightning in the palm of my hand," Shay's voice breaks as it dips half an octave, and your heart stutters in response. "And I clung on waiting for the storm to break."
*else
"I caught lightning in the palm of my hand," Shay's voice breaks as it dips half an octave and your heart stutters in response. "But thunderstorms are no one's to tame."
Shay repeats the line once more, dropping to an almost-whisper. The last note vibrates in the air between you.
The silence stretches between you. You think back to the first time you'd heard Shay sing—when you'd bumped into him in the corridor, humming to his orchids. How long ago that seems now. How much has blossomed between you since then.
Shay takes a ragged breath, eyes dark and unguarded. He hadn't exactly said "I love you," or anything quite so direct, but it sounds a hell lot like it.
CHOICE
"Oh Shay," I choke out finally. "It's beautiful."
The words come tumbling out. "Shay, I love you."
Give Shay a wry smile. "When you get famous, do I get to say I know you?"
(If career = musician) Reach for the guitar. “Can I play something too?”
#"Oh Shay," I choke out finally. "It's beautiful."
Your throat has shrunk so much that you have to force the words out. Shay blinks, and reaches for your hand. The song has stirred up a tangled web of emotions in you, but you have no idea how to put any of them into words. It honestly feels as though it has reached inside of you and rearranged something fundamental.
There's a small tremble in his bottom lip. The air hums with all you've said to each other, and all that you've left unsaid.
Carefully, Shay sets the guitar down by the side of the bed, then turns back to face you. After a long, charged silence, he tries for levity. "Viral hit material?"
You blink, heart still flip-flopping in your chest. "I'll be watching out for it on the radio."
#The words come tumbling out. "Shay, I love you."
Shay had been tip-toeing around it in his song, but you're unable to hold yourself back. The words rush out of you like water through a gully after a thunderstorm, like wind through a mountain valley.
You see Shay's entire expression unfurl, turning from hesitant and vulnerable to a huge, radiant smile that splits his entire face. Shay puts the guitar down and launches himself across the space between you, toppling you back-first onto the bed.
You're both laughing now, and he engulfs you in a hug, body pressing down on you. "You're crushing me," you snort.
Shay peppers your forehead and cheeks and lips with kisses. "I love you too," he murmurs, in a voice that's a lot more steady than yours has been.
Your hands interlock around Shay's waist, pulling him close. For as long as you remain in each other's arms, you’re safe from the havoc that time may wreak on your momentary happiness.
#Give Shay a wry smile. "When you get famous, do I get to say I know you?"
You're not sure what else to do with your emotions, so you go for a wry joke, but there's a twinge of bittersweetness to the thought of the two of you going back into your own separate lives, back to being nothing more than once-lovers, now-acquaintances when you next hear the song on the radio.
Shay's bottom lip trembles. The specter of that future seems to have sucked out all the air in the room.
Carefully, Shay sets the guitar down by the side of the bed, then turns back to face you. After a long, charged silence, he tries for levity. "I'm still holding out for the possibility that if I get famous, you'll say 'that's the one I'm dating.'"
You blink. Shay's words slice all the way through your chest. Heck, you can still feel the song reverberating in your chest. It honestly feels as though the tune has reached inside of you and rearranged something fundamental.
#Reach for the guitar. “Can I play something too?”
You’re not sure what else to do with your emotions that are swirling in your chest—and so, like you’ve done in every major moment of your life, you turn it into a melody that’s inspired by Shay’s.
Already, the tune’s taking shape in your mind, threads coming to life, accompanied by words that feel almost too personal, too raw to put out into the world—but with Shay’s voice still echoing in the small space, you can’t stop yourself.
Shay watches you as you cradle the guitar in your hands, bottom lip trembling. Before you can chicken out, you start strumming. His breath hitches.
Your tune builds on Shay’s melody, weaving other chords into the base, extending the metaphor of being thrust into a swirling tempest—Shay is both sea and safe harbor, storm and sky, beginning and end, death and new life, creation and destruction both.
Halfway through, Shay begins to sing as well, your voices harmonizing with each other like a pair of soaring birds, rising together, dipping, melding as one. Maybe it’s fate that the two of you would find each other, kindred spirits speaking the same language.
When you finally pause for breath, the two of you stare at each other. Shay’s eyes are moist, and you too feel the hot prick of tears in response. You’d never quite felt like this before. The connection between you slices all the way through you.
“That…blew my mind,” Shay whispers, at last. A beat passes. “We need to record a duet.”
You smile, though inside, you still feel the song reverberating in your chest. It feels as though the music has reached inside of you and rearranged something fundamental. “If nothing else, at least that might give us an excuse to see each other again.”
Shay nods, and wraps his pinky around yours. “Here’s to our future viral hit.”
CONTINUE
Shay sneaks you a playful smile, clearly intent on lightening the mood. "I'm considering a different set of lyrics for the melody.”
"Yeah?" you ask, angling your chin at him. "Let's hear it then."
Shay strums the opening chords to the song once more. "Pan-dan waffles, oh where are you / I can smell you from a kilometre away and / I can't stop dreaming of you... oh, I want you—I ne-ed you…"
You snort, rolling your eyes. “Now that’s definitely a chart-topper.”
Shay leans back against the headboard, grinning at you.
Because you can't bring yourself to say anything more about your relationship, you decide to be honest about something else. "You're really talented, you know?" This, at least, is uncomplicated, and unequivocally true.
Shay's smile is tender and earnest. "Thanks. That means a lot to me.”
CHOICE
Time feels like it's slipping through my fingers.
I'm sure we'll find a way to be together. (Commit to Shay)
#Time feels like it's slipping through my fingers.
It feels as though you're watching the last grains of sand disappear down the narrow funnel of an hourglass, unable to do anything to slow or stop the process.
You've known from the start that you and Shay are on borrowed time, but somehow, you'd been able to push it out of mind. Now though, you feel the urgency gnaw away at your gut.
Everything you've built together this week is about to be washed away by the rising tide; perhaps you could still save it, build it out of something more permanent—but do you want to?
Shay stares at you, his smile wafer-thin, all edges and fragile hope. The morning sunlight filtering through the blinds seems to bathe everything you're about to lose in a melancholic, soft light.
"Don't look at me like that," you say, voice breaking. "I can't take it."
Shay's eyebrows knit. "Like what?"
"Like we've already lost each other," you whisper, even though you suspect your expression probably mirrors Shay's.
Instead of pointing that out, Shay reaches for your hand, tracing circles in your palm. You cling onto his fingers, grasping them tightly. "Take me to New York," Shay whispers. "Put me in your pocket and bring me with you."
Your heart twists.
*if committed to Shay before this
You nod, hooking your pinky around Shay's. "OK."
*else
How you wish you could say yes. How you wish it were as easy as picking Shay up and putting him in your pocket and taking him everywhere you go.
#I'm sure we'll find a way to be together.
You reach for Shay's hand, curling your fingers around his. There's a part of you that's afraid you might lose Shay, but you want to believe that you'll find a way to hold onto each other.
You've known from the start that you and Shay are on borrowed time, but you'd forged ahead anyway. And now, you’ve come so far that you refuse to turn back—all you want to do is press on, toward a future with Shay.
*if commit to Shay
Without saying another word, the two of you end up smiling dopily at each other.
The morning sunlight filtering through the blinds seems to bathe everything you're about to lose in a soft, hopeful light.
"Maybe it's crazy," you say, voice breaking. "But I believe in us."
Shay's smile widens. "I like crazy. And I believe in us, too."
*else
"I want to find a way to be together," you whisper, solidifying the promise in the form of a kiss to Shay's forehead.
The morning sunlight filtering through the blinds seems to bathe everything you're about to lose in a soft, hopeful light.
"Maybe it's crazy," you say, voice breaking. "But I don't think our time's meant to end here."
Shay's smile widens, dimples flashing. "I like crazy. And I want more time with you, too."
