The instinct to protect their privacy, a common concern for public figures in Thailand as well, took over butter's rational thoughts. The potential scandal, the invasive questions, the damage to their careers – it all flashed through his mind. Calling the police would open a Pandora's Box he wasn't ready to face.

Gently, butter coaxed Ohm awake enough to help him stand. Ohm was still groggy and disoriented, leaning heavily on butter as they made their way out of the deserted venue. Butterjin managed to get him into their car, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief,  lingering fear and someone taking a picture.

The drive back was silent, punctuated only by Ohm's occasional soft groans. Butter kept glancing at him, his mind a whirlwind of questions and anxieties. Had Ohm been taken advantage of? Had he been hurt? His fear was, something similar had happened before. The image of Akin flirting so confidently on set just hours ago felt like a distant memory, replaced by the vulnerable figure slumped beside him.

Back in the safety of their home, Butterjin carefully helped Ohm into bed. He cleaned him up as best as he could, his touch gentle and filled with concern. Once Ohm was resting, butter sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. The question that gnawed at him was the same one swirling in your mind: what had happened at that party? Had Ohm been merely drugged, or had something more transpired?

Hours later, Ohmakin finally woke up more fully. The confusion in his eyes slowly cleared, replaced by a flicker of fear and shame. He looked at butter, his expression clouded.

"Butter… I… I don't remember much," he said, his voice hoarse. "There was a drink… and then… nothing."

Butter reached out, taking Ohm's hand in his. His touch was reassuring, but his own internal turmoil was evident in his eyes. "It's okay, phii  "You're safe now."

A long silence stretched between them. Bitterjin leaned forward to hug him. Finally, Ohm spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. "I… I need time, tee-rak. "Tears in his eyes " I don't… I don't feel ready to be intimate right now."

Butter's heart sank slightly, a pang of hurt mixing with his relief. Just that morning, Ohm had been teasing him, the playful promise of intimacy hanging in the air. Now, there was a wall between them, built from a terrifying unknown.

"Of course," butter said softly, squeezing Ohm's hand. "Take all the time you need." He wanted to ask, needed to know what had happened, but he held back. Now wasn't the time to push. Ohm needed to heal, both physically and emotionally.

The contrast between Ohm's earlier flirtatiousness and his current withdrawal was stark and unsettling for butter. What had happened in those lost hours? Had someone violated Ohm's trust and body? Or was Ohm simply shaken by the experience of being drugged and vulnerable? The playful energy from the set was gone, replaced by a heavy uncertainty that hung in the air between them.