Chapter Text
“So, Porsche has broken his collarbone,” P’Chan says, his voice a little tinny over Kinn’s cellphone speaker. There’s a tropical storm rolling in and Kinn feels like it’s degrading the call quality. It’s certainly degrading his quality of life and his sanity.
For the next several hours, Kinn feels like he’s fighting god to get home. The jet can’t take off. Then it can’t land. Then there’s traffic around the airport because of a protest.
He misses the x-rays and the ultrasound. Then he misses the surgery. He misses getting Porsche set up in bed after, cleaning him up and checking in with him to make sure he’s okay.
And somehow that’s okay. “Not your fault,” Porsche mumbles, sounding drugged. “P’Chan took care of me.”
Kinn’s not quite sure what to say to that. This was a test, and he failed it, and… it’s okay?
He strips down to his underwear and dozes off on the bed with Porsche, carefully contained in a little strip of bed that isn’t taken over by Porsche’s pillow set-up. He’d probably get a better night’s sleep if he stayed on the couch with the door open, but he wants to do this. He wants to atone for making Porsche go without Kinn when he needed him.
Around 1am, he wakes up to Porsche trying to open the bottle of his pain medication one-handed. “Can you?” he asks Kinn, when Kinn sits up. “And some ibuprofen?”
“Sure, of course,” Kinn says. He feels better now that he’s doing something. It’s his job to take care of the family. He needs to do his job.
He gets Porsche his medication and helps him get out of bed so he can piss. And then Porsche sits on the bathtub edge and lets Kinn sponge away the worst of the sweat and post-surgical mess from his skin. “That’s better,” Porsche mumbles, half-awake and obviously high as balls on meds. “Thanks, I love you.”
“I love you too,” Kinn says, and spends the rest of the night half-dozing in case Porsche wants anything else.
He comes home from work the next day to find a large recliner shoved next to his bed, and Porsche asleep in it. Porsche rouses before Kinn can start kicking himself for not ordering one from the plane for Porsche. Obviously this is better than sleeping propped up on six pillows.
“Don’t make a face like that, I’m fine,” Porsche says, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Can you open my pills for me?”
Porsche is fine, even if he’s itchy and a bit grumpy because of the pain and the healing skin. Kinn doesn’t know why, but he feels off-kilter, not being needed. It’s been his job for a long time to look after everyone and make sure they’re okay.
“What’s this face?” Porsche says, and crawls into bed with Kinn on his way back from the bathroom. “Why are you worrying?”
“I’m not,” Kinn says, and shoves a few pillows against the headboard so Porsche has something to lean back on. Porsche is still sleeping in the recliner, but this is nice, getting to cuddle for a few minutes before he gets back out of bed.
Porsche gets set up against the pillows, and then reaches up and smoothes out the line between Kinn’s eyebrows. “I’m fine,” he says, not for the first time. “It barely hurts. It’s probably better that they finally fixed the old break.”
“I know, I know,” Kinn murmurs. Porsche tugs at his hip, and he gives in and swings his leg over Porsche’s lap, so they’re face to face.
“Kiss?” Porsche says hopefully, and Kinn obliges with a peck on the forehead. “Kinn,” Porsche complains, so Kinn gives him a real one, a proper one, on the lips.
Porsche turns his face up for another one, and Kinn can’t resist him. He carefully threads his fingers in Porsche’s hair, and kisses him goodnight properly, enjoying the taste of Porsche’s mouth and the silky feeling of his hair in Kinn’s hand, and the warmth and solidity of his body.
Porsche’s good hand slides down Kinn’s back, and gives his ass a friendly squeeze. Kinn laughs into Porsche’s mouth and Porsche grins. His hand slides around and he cups Kinn’s cock.
“You don’t have to,” Kinn says, and Porsche cranes his neck up to give Kinn another sloppy kiss.
“I know,” Porsche says. “But I want to. Tell me it doesn’t turn you on to get the ol’ clumsy stranger.” He wiggles his left hand against Kinn’s rapidly hardening package.
“You turn me on,” Kinn says, which is soppy. But it’s also true. Porsche laughs at him and clumsily gets Kinn’s dick out of his pajama pants.
Porsche is really terrible at left-handed handjobs, even when Kinn wraps his hand around Porsche's to help. Eventually, they untangle their hands so Kinn can just jerk himself off. Porsche helps by lying there and looking like the hottest fucking orthopedic patient Kinn has ever seen in his life, and by letting his good hand roam up and down Kinn's naked skin before settling it on his ass and squeezing.
It feels really good, having Porsche’s hand massaging his glute as Kinn rubs up against the skin of Porsche’s naked stomach. He can’t help but lean in and taste Porsche’s mouth, and then the slightly damp skin under Porsche’s ear.
Porsche’s hand slips along the sweat-dewed skin of Kinn’s ass as he moves, glancing along his crack. Porsche has definitely grabbed his ass before, but he’s respectful of Kinn’s boundaries. He doesn’t put his hands where he thinks Kinn won’t want them. His fingers usually stay well clear of Kinn’s hole.
Right now the tip of Porsche’s finger is just brushing Kinn there. It feels taboo to be touched like this. Kinn pushes back into it, and Porsche grabs harder, his finger nearly inside, a place Kinn hasn’t been touched since…
Kinn comes all over Porsche’s abs. “Did I get your sling?” he asks, trying not to collapse onto Porsche’s broken shoulder.
“It wipes clean,” Porsche says, and relaxes into the pillow. He’s not hard, but he is interested, firmed up when Kinn gives him a friendly grope. “I’m good,” Porsche says, but doesn’t knock his hand away. He’s smiling. “When I’m off the meds you can get me back.”
“I love you,” Kinn tells him, and gives him another kiss. He’s still half-curled over Porsche, hunching down to kiss him, but it’s good. Porsche’s hand is still on his lower back, gently petting. It’s really nice to be sat on his lap like this. It's nice to have this moment of connection before Porsche goes to sleep in his lounger. It's nice that Porsche thought of Kinn and took care of his needs.
“I love you too,” Porsche says, and grins. “You want to try to sleep in the recliner with me?”
“Not really,” Kinn says, but they do shove it around the bedroom until they can hold hands while they fall asleep.
“We can totally fuck,” Porsche insists, holding the sling he’s been out of for two days. “I’ll just put the sling back on, and we can…”
Kinn would like to fuck. But he's also suspicious of Porsche's optimism. “You’re gonna tell me if it hurts,” he says and Porsche rolls his eyes. “Porsche. Say yes.”
“I’ll tell you,” Porsche mumbles, and thrusts the sling out again. He can get it on by himself but it’s harder. “I’m, um. I cleaned up.”
“Is that so?” Kinn asks, and takes the sling. Porsche is naked except for his briefs, which are clinging to his shower-damp skin. The black nylon of the sling sticks to the last few droplets of water as Kinn helps Porsche tuck his arm into it and buckles it across his naked chest. “Was it hard with only one hand?”
“A little,” Porsche says, and groans as Kinn mouths at the skin of his neck. “But I did it.”
“For me?” Kinn asks, and Porsche blushes and tries to turn his face away so Kinn can’t see his expression. Kinn can’t put into words how much he likes it when Porsche gets shy about wanting something like this. It makes something go hot in the pit of his stomach. “Porsche?”
Porsche blushes harder and then shakes his head. “For me,” he says, and fuck, Kinn is suddenly hard enough to cut diamonds.
“C’mon,” he growls into Porsche’s ear. “Tell me what you want.”
Porsche blushes even darker red, but he meets Kinn’s gaze when Kinn looks up. “Eat me out,” he demands, and Kinn couldn’t be happier to oblige.
He tumbles Porsche back to the pillows and knocks his legs open. Porsche is still a little uncomfortable being flat on his back, so they pause for a second while he squirms around, getting situated against the headboard, but then Kinn is on him.
He hauls Porsche’s hips up onto a pillow, and licks into his hole like it’s melting ice cream. Porsche lets out a stifled yelp and his legs tremble around Kinn’s ears. They should do it like this more often, Kinn thinks.
He loves how responsive Porsche is. When Kinn blows him or eats his ass, Porsche will get these overwhelmed full-body tremors, his whole core tensing with pleasure. It’s 100% genuine, something Kinn doesn’t think anyone would think to fake.
When they first started hooking up, Kinn was obsessed with how Porsche would fall apart when Kinn put his mouth on him. It makes sense now - Porsche didn’t get a lot of blowjobs as a back alley escort. But at the time, it was so different from what Kinn was used to with his professional company. It seemed so real.
It still does.
Porsche makes another bitten-off little noise, and Kinn sharply focuses back in on what he’s doing. He likes taking care of Porsche like this. It’s good to make him feel good.
“Fingers?” Kinn asks, and Porsche shakes with pleasure again and nods.
Kinn slowly fingers him open, until his hole has gone soft and malleable and Porsche is nearly crying with pleasure. “You can fuck me,” Porsche mumbles, his face red and sweaty. “You can fuck me now.”
Kinn grabs the lube and slicks up his cock. Porsche is loose enough that he can slide right home, deep into Porsche’s velvety-warm heat, but he doesn’t say that as he does so. “You feel good,” he murmurs into Porsche’s ear, instead, and Porsche’s good arm wraps around his shoulders, his fingers clawing into Kinn’s back. “You feel so fucking good.”
“Kinn,” Porsche complains, and Kinn obliges, fucking into Porsche in long grinding strokes. Porsche’s eyes roll up in his head in pleasure, and Kinn doesn’t try to smother the dark feeling of satisfaction he feels.
“Good?” he asks.
“Mm.” Porsche says, sounding desperate. Kinn fucks into him harder and Porsche’s good arm flies up, bracing against the headboard. “Kinn!”
Porsche is usually active when they have sex. His hands wander over Kinn's body and his own, he kisses and bites and talks dirty, he wraps his legs around Kinn's waist and spurs him on like a horse.
Tonight he's melting back into the little nest of pillows. He's not trying to crane his neck up to bite at Kinn's throat. His bad arm is trapped between them, and so is his heavy cock. He's just enjoying himself, trusting Kinn to take care of him.
Kinn can do that. He's very good at that. He pauses, adjusts how he's holding himself, and leans down to take Porsche in hand.
He gets another shudder of pleasure as his hand closes around Porsche's cock, and Porsche's eyes squeeze shut. He makes a low pleased sound in his throat.
“Good?” Kinn asks him. Porsche gives him a dazed grunt in affirmative, so Kinn keeps up what he's doing, feeling Porsche's body ratchet tighter and tighter under him.
When Porsche comes, he shakes hard and makes a mess of himself. There's something so genuine about the way his legs tremble and spasm and the weird moan he makes, like Kinn is squeezing the air out of him.
Kinn pulls out, but Porsche doesn’t let him go far. He keeps his leg hooked over Kinn’s shoulder, keeping Kinn close. “You can,” he says. “Wherever you want.”
Porsche’s fucked-out hole is right there, and Kinn’s not a strong man. He lets the tip of his cock rub against Porsche’s puffy red rim, and comes in a few quick strokes.
Porsche reaches for him and Kinn falls forward against him, careful not to land on Porsche’s collarbone. “Good?” Porsche asks. Kinn used to hear it as was it good for you, which it always has been. But now he hears was I good for you, too.
“So good,” he says, and cranes his head up to give Porsche a soft kiss on the lips. It took him a while to get used to the difference between having a boyfriend and having an escort in his bed. Tawan never expected much from Kinn and would roll over and go to sleep after they fucked. And then Kinn got used to Marsh, who nearly needed to be pried off him after every encounter, hoping Kinn would cave and go again, and he’d get paid for another two hours. Neither of them was really looking for connection after they fucked.
Porsche noses in, looking for another kiss. Kinn gives it to him, and smooths his hair back off his forehead. “Good?” he asks, meaning the same thing Porsche did.
“Yeah,” Porsche says, and holds on tighter with his good arm. Kinn shifts a little so he can hold on tight back.
Porsche has needs after sex, and tries very hard to pretend he doesn’t. Kinn used to treat him like he didn’t. When they first got together, Kinn would stay in bed, but sometimes towards the end of the honeymoon period, he’d do what he usually did after sex. He’d take a bath, or get up and answer some emails, or…
“Do you wanna put a movie on?” Kinn asks.
Porsche nods. They get out of bed and clean up, and then they crawl under the covers and Porsche curls up between Kinn’s legs. “You can pick,” he mumbles, so Kinn does.
Porsche pretends like he doesn’t care what they do after they fuck, but Kinn’s paying more attention now. Of course he’ll always say he’s fine, but he goes sad and quiet when Kinn gets up to keep working. And now Kinn can understand that if Porsche is letting Kinn put his cock inside him, he should at least stick around until Porsche is cleaned up and asleep.
“Is this okay for your shoulder?” Kinn asks, ten minutes into the movie. “Do you want to take the sling off?”
“I might sleep in it,” Porsche says, and cuddles into Kinn’s chest.
Kinn thinks of making a fuss about it, reminding Porsche that he’s supposed to be out of it as much as he can stand, but he doesn’t. Maybe Porsche is a little sorer after being jostled around than he’d like to admit, and Kinn can respect that. He kisses Porsche’s shoulder, right next to the nylon strapping. “Can I get you a shirt before bed?”
“Mm,” Porsche says. “I can get it.”
Kinn fucked him so good that his legs are still intermittently trembling. He's not going to get it. He's going to fall asleep cuddled up against Kinn's chest and wake up complaining about how the sling rubbed his nipple raw.
Kinn gets out of bed. He finds Porsche a long-sleeve t-shirt and helps him ease out of the sling and wrestle into the shirt. “I can do it,” Porsche mumbles.
“I know you can,” Kinn says. He gets Porsche’s sling and helps him ease his arm back into it. “But isn’t this better?”
“It’s easier with help,” Porsche agrees, and leans up for a couple more kisses.
Porsche dozes off not too long after, still sitting up between Kinn’s legs, his head pillowed on Kinn’s shoulder. Kinn isn’t tired yet, so he sits through the movie and puts on another one, enjoying the feeling of Porsche’s soft, even breathing against his neck.
It feels good that he’s done his job properly. Porsche is comfortable and satisfied, taken care of. Kinn did good.
Tomorrow, he’ll go into work, and try to take care of all of the TK Group employees. Taking care of the employees means his brothers are taken care of, and their security staff, and the kitchen workers and all of the rest of the "family." Taking care keeps the minor family under the cover they need, protects his cousins and Pete.
Thinking of all that, Kinn feels tired, like he’s just run a long, long race. He shifts and Porsche wakes from his doze. “Bed?” he mumbles.
“Yeah, come lie down,” Kinn says, and they disentangle to sleep.
Porsche needs to sleep on his back because of his shoulder, so he settles into his little heap of pillows. Kinn understands, but he also misses the way Porsche sometimes curls up on his chest.
“C’mere,” Porsche mumbles and reaches for Kinn. Kinn lets himself be reached for, but Porsche isn't trying to figure out how to get Kinn to hold him. He pulls Kinn's head under his chin and wraps his good arm around Kinn.
They don’t usually sleep like this. Kinn has always slept on his back and Porsche cuddles up to him. Kinn’s fairly sure he won’t be able to drift off like this, but…
He can hear Porsche’s heart beating. Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub. And it’s nice, being tucked under Porsche’s arm like he’s a baby bird.
Kinn lets his eyes flutter shut. He’ll just rest here, and…
The next day, Kinn goes to work out with P’Chan. He has thoughts rattling around in his brain, trying to form. A workout and talk with P’Chan is what he needs to get them out.
Chan is somewhat unique in Kinn's life as being someone who likes him and treats him like a normal person. Of course Porsche loves Kinn, and so do his brothers and maybe even his cousins.
But there's such a hierarchy. Kinn's been on top of everyone in his life for so long. For a long time there was such a big distance between him and Kim and Khun, and even Porsche, once he became minor family head, was often resentful and even a little scared of Kinn.
Chan has always managed to just treat Kinn like a regular person. When Kinn was small, even his nannies were a little too deferential to him, scared of his grandfather. But Chan wasn't. He treated Kinn like a regular little kid.
Most of Kinn's early memories of being treated like a normal person are Chan or his mother. To Mama, he wasn't a Theerapanyakun, he was her son. And Chan would pick him up when he was tired, comfort him when he was scared, and chide him when he was being a little asshole.
Chan liked Kinn and Kim. He'd do extra shifts on Mama's detail to spend time with them. All of the other bodyguards were a little wary of Kinn, which was weird as a four year-old boy. Chan just treated him like a kid, a kid who Chan cared about and wanted to spend time with.
Chan still feels like a safe place for Kinn. Yes, Kinn employs him, but he’s still P’Chan. He does whatever the hell he wants and never asks Kinn for permission. Talking to him and asking for advice from him doesn’t feel like failing in the way it can with almost everyone else in Kinn’s life.
Tonight it feels especially good to hang out with him. Kinn’s just tired. Nothing’s gone horribly wrong at work lately, but he’s always braced for some big explosion. Chan isn’t someone Kinn has to hide those worries from.
“What’s up?” Chan says, once they’ve done cardio and some work with the heavy bag. “You look like there’s something on your mind.”
Kinn shrugs. A few months ago, Porsche asked him if he’d ever bottomed, and he’s been thinking about it ever since. He promised they’d talk about it later, and they sort of have, but not really.
“Do you remember that night you helped me find some company?” Kinn asks, and Chan hmms in affirmative. “I, um. We did that checklist together.”
“Yeah, I remember,” Chan says, and is quiet.
That was a fucking awful night. With hindsight, Kinn can say things were… rough, even before Papa got sick. But after Papa's heart attack, while he’d been incapacitated, had been hellish.
Part of what had been so awful was how upset Tankhun had been. Kinn doesn’t know why Khun would have been otherwise - Mama’s death had crushed him into a half-decade waking coma - but Kinn had taken Tankhun’s obvious fear hard. He needed - needs - Khun’s support, and the depth of Khun’s panic had seemed like a referendum on Kinn’s ability to lead the family.
Papa was hovering between life and death. Khun had retreated back into a temporary fog. Kim was out of the house and refusing to come back, even for this. Tawan was dead (well, “dead.”) Kinn had felt so alone.
But Chan had been there. He'd stood behind Kinn's chair and talked things over with him after meetings. It had felt very similar to Chan coaching him in boxing. He might not be amazing yet, but Chan trusted him to get there, and walked with him step-by-step.
On the night Kinn had gone to talk to Chan about the escorts, he’d been thinking a lot about killing himself. It wasn’t that he wanted to; in fact he was terrified that he’d slip up and go through with it in a moment of weakness. Death had represented a release from the constant pressure and uncertainty that had crept into his life, especially now that Papa was awake and able to criticise all Kinn’s decisions. It was so tempting to finally make things quiet, for once, as much as Kinn would have hated to hurt Khun and Kim.
In the security office, with P’Chan, he’d been safe from the staggering pressure of his new position. Chan didn’t tell him off for wanting company. He didn’t judge Kinn.
(And if Kinn had gone for his gun, like he’d been thinking about all afternoon and evening, Chan would have stopped him. He would have kept Kinn safe from himself, like he did when Kinn was a child and trying to throw himself down a flight of stairs, or drown himself in a fountain. As long as he stayed in the security office with his phi, he was safe.)
But that’s not what Kinn came here to talk to him about. “Do you remember, you asked me if I topped or bottomed?” he asks.
“I do, I know you top,” Chan says. “What’s up?”
“I, um,” Kinn says. He’s not really sure what he’s trying to ask. “Porsche asked me if I ever bottomed.”
“Oh,” Chan says. He knows this. They talked about it months ago, when Porsche first asked. “Have you?”
“No,” Kinn says. He’s not sure how to say what he’s trying to say. He’s not even really sure what he’s trying to say.
Sex with Porsche means something. Kinn doesn’t think that it makes all the sex before it less worthy, but it’s different with Porsche than it was with an escort. Sex means opening up to each other, means showing care for each other. It means being vulnerable and sometimes even silly.
Chan just waits for Kinn to go on. Kinn appreciates the silence. He’s always felt like a slow thinker compared to Tankhun, and Chan doesn’t go sprouting off ten different possible ideas while Kinn is trying to find the words for what he means.
“I feel tired,” he says, not sure how this is going to make sense to P’Chan. “I’m just… yeah. Really tired.”
“Of the way you have sex?” Chan asks.
Kinn shakes his head. He loves that Porsche will ask him for things and let Kinn give him what he wants. They still have penetrative sex less frequently than they used to, but they’re also not 23 and 26 anymore. And Porsche is happy and satisfied after their encounters. Kinn wouldn’t give that up for anything. He loves making Porsche happy.
“It’s not that,” he says, still trying to figure out what he’s talking about. “Just with… everyone expects things from me.”
“That’s true,” Chan says. “I can see how that would be tiring.”
“And sometimes, I wish I could…” Kinn’s not sure what he wishes for, but he longs for it. He is tired.
Chan nods, and thinks for a few seconds. Kinn waits. “I know I always talk about what your mom would have done and you scoff at me,” Chan says. “But Kinn, she’d want you to be happy. She’d tell you to fuck what everyone thinks. If you need permission from me to do that, you’ve got it.”
Kinn nods. Maybe that’s what he was asking. He just wants to know he won’t be a disappointment.
“Thanks,” he says.
“Stretch,” Chan says, because he is totally incapable of accepting thanks for looking after them. “What’s tight today?”