Archive of Our Own ^beta

Porsche stares at the towering building before him, the golden doors shut and looking foreboding. Beside him, Chay hefts his go-bag up onto his shoulder.

“You sure about this?” Porsche asks his brother.

Chay wipes the tiny frown from his face and nods. “Yeah, hia. Trust me, they need us.”

Porsche squints at the blinding affluence before him, but if Chay says they’re needed, then they are.

“Well then, we might as well get this over with.”

“Always good to walk into a job with a positive attitude,” Chay quips, and Porsche rolls his eyes, reaching out to swat Chay, who dances out of the way. 

“Hey!” Chay protests.

“You give me the sass, I give you the smacks,” Porsche replies, walking up the fancy drive.

As he and Chay approach the gilded doors they open, men bow to them in a way that makes Porsche’s skin crawl. This is not his usual gig, and he’s feeling unsettled about it.

Three people are waiting for them in the entryway. They make for another intimidating wall of affluence, and Porsche can feel his nerves jitter in response. There’s an older couple and a young man who stands out; his flashy fashion choices feel like Porsche needs sunglasses to take it all in.

Porsche suspects the couple are betas while the young man smells… Porsche tries to pick his dynamic apart and fails. Interesting.

The woman steps forward, her classy suit making her appear even more elegant. She smiles, and it settles the jittery part of Porsche. That’s a genuine emotion.

“You must be Porsche,” she says. “Thank you for coming so quickly.”

Porsche rubs the back of his neck. “No problem. Chay said it was an emergency.”

The woman frowns. 

“Yes, it is.” She turns back to the man with an inscrutable look on his face. “Korn?”

The man stares at Porsche for a moment longer, sizing him up. It’s not an unusual reaction to Porsche’s services. Many don’t think Porsche would be good at his job, not with his orientation, but with his track record and Chay’s marketing skills, they’ve built up a flawless reputation for themselves.

Slowly, the man steps forward, bringing his hand up to touch the woman’s back.

“Papa,” the young man behind them whines.

“We will give this a try,” Korn declares, his word carrying weight in the room as Porsche can see the way people are used to obeying it. “But you get one chance.”

Porsche nods at the warning. One chance is all he’ll need.

The young man pouts dramatically, turning on his heel and striding down the hall. His scent is odd, but Porsche isn’t curious to know more if that’s how he behaves.

Smiling slightly stiffly, the woman waves them forward. “Let’s discuss the situation in the sunroom.”

“With respect,” Porsche speaks up. “If the situation is as bad as you said it is, I should see him immediately.”

The older couple make eye contact, a conversation happening silently in a quick glance. She turns back to him and nods.

“If you think that’s best.”

Chay speaks up, using his charm to help smooth over the situation. “Porsche can go feel out the situation, but if you would give me the details, it can help us to document this case.”

The woman’s shoulders relax, and she nods. “Tea then?”

“Yes, please,” Chay chirps, bouncing forward. Porsche can see the way his brother’s bubbly personality is endearing him to her. It works every time.

A young man with a ponytail and a ferocious glare steps forward.

“I will take you to Khun Kinn,” he says.

Porsche nods to the older couple before following the man. They wind through halls filled with beautiful art and fresh flowers. It’s much more welcoming than Porsche would have thought from the exterior. It reminds him of what their house used to be like before his mother passed. The pang of nostalgia hits, and Porsche swallows it down.

He smells it before anything else. The thick scent of alpha has crept down the hall, carrying with it a claim strong enough to ward others off. This alpha probably always packs a punch, but now that he’s feral, it’s overwhelming.

Porsche pauses for a moment, breathing in the scent and centering himself. His instinctual reaction to another alpha is easy to curb, but there’s an extra layer when working with a feral. Everything is heightened, and Porsche has to be on his A-game to manage it. His guide stops, and Porsche can feel his eyes scrutinizing him.

“Has it ever been this bad before,” Porsche asks, opening his eyes and meeting the other man’s skeptical look.

Surprise flashes across the man’s sharp face. He looks away from Porsche, out the wide window next to them.

“It’s only happened once before,” the man says, “and it was nowhere near this intense. Khun Kinn has impeccable control.”

Porsche frowns. 

“Usually, those are the ones that break the worst,” he mutters as he steps up beside the man, catching the concern that bleeds onto his face. “I can help,” he reassures.

The man nods and gestures for Porsche to continue down the hall.

“He doesn’t like anyone getting any closer. It’s the third door on your right.”

Porsche nods and steps foot in the hall that reeks of alpha pheromones. This is one of the worst cases he’s seen, and Porsche is beyond curious to know what caused it. If he does his job right, the alpha will tell him.

As he approaches the door, a noise rumbles out of the room, deep and territorial. The scent spikes as well, the claim getting stronger. He’s warning Porsche off. 

Porsche takes a deep breath and then lets it and his scent out, his pheromones swirling through the unknown alphas, soothing ruffled instincts. This is part of what makes Porsche so good at his job. His scent is like metaphorical catnip to other alphas, a quirk that had not been the most enjoyable in high school.

The growls and hisses in the room quiet down, and Porsche wonders if the situation is really as bad as he was told.

A loud bang has him jumping back, putting his back to the far wall as his heart thumps wildly. A snarl follows it, making all the hairs on Porsche’s arms stand up. Oh fuck. He fights down the terror that the noise fills him with and forces his legs to move, backing down the hall.

His guide is still there, staring at him with eyes wide with shock.

“Okay, that’s a really bad case,” Porsche admits.

“I can’t tell if you’re a moron or the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

Porsche turns to the other man and smiles, “Bit of both if I’m honest.”

________________________

Chay sinks into a delightfully comfy chair as he peruses the excellent selection of snacks in front of him. He plucks a slice of green mango from the plate to his right and dips it in the bowl of spices before popping it in his mouth.

Seated across from him in the sunny room, Sirikit Theerapanyakul gives him a warm smile. The room is packed with plants and smells of dirt and growing things. It makes Chay feel at home. He misses his mother’s garden even if his memories of it are fuzzy at best. 

He and Sirikit spoke over the phone when she had called to request their help, and Chay had liked her immediately. The older beta is warm and welcoming in a way her partner, Korn, is not. Chay didn’t speak with him at the time, and now he finds the standoffish man intimidating.

“I’ve heard that your services are highly reputed,” Sirikit says, a hesitance in her voice where it wasn’t over the phone.

Chay gets ready to soothe the woman if needed, but he doesn’t get the chance.

The smell of feral alpha invades the room as Porsche strides in with the young man who was guiding him earlier. Chay watches as a frown blooms on Sirikit’s face. Beside her, Korn doesn’t move, but everything about him gains an icy firmness.

Chay looks back at Porsche, knowing his brother will understand the unspoken question on his face.

Porsche waves him off gently, and relief floods through Chay. They’re fine. He turns back to the Theerapanyakuls and plasters on a reassuring smile. It works on Sirikit, but not Korn.

Porsche flops into the chair next to him. He eyes the snacks, and Chay knows he’s tempted but is restraining himself.

“Is everything alright?” Sirikit asks.

Porsche is quick to reassure her. “It’s a bad case, but I can handle it. I need to know a bit more about Kinn.”

Again the Theerapanyakuls turn to each other, sharing a loaded look.

“What do you need to know?” Korn asks.

“How strong is your son?” Porsche asks, watching the other man closely.

Korn opens his mouth to reply, but Porsche interrupts.

“Be honest with me. If I walk in there not knowing what I’m up against, someone will get hurt.”

Chay knows how seriously his brother takes his job. Porsche loves this. He loves the challenge of wrestling with an alpha at their limits, the satisfaction of guiding them back to baseline, and the way his skills help people keep from using more drastic medical options.

Once, they walked in unprepared, and Porsche bears the scars of that mistake the same way sometimes Chay jerks awake at night remembering the snarls he heard. Neither of them walked away from that case untouched.

Korn’s chin tips up, displeased with being challenged.

“Kinn is a fourth-degree alpha,” Korn replies.

Porsche stares the other man down, making Chay want to fidget as his brother demonstrates his stubbornness. 

“He—” Sirikit starts, but a harsh look from Korn causes her to pause.

Porsche leans forward in his seat, and every eye in the room turns to him. Most days, Chay’s brother doesn’t seem like the alpha he’s classified as, but it’s moments like this that prove Porsche is not an alpha to mess with.

Porsche doesn’t break eye contact with the older beta, staring the powerful man down.

“If you aren’t wholly honest with me there are consequences. You have other routes if you don’t want to use our services.”

Korn frowns. Chay knows the man doesn’t want to sedate Kinn into a coma to let this pass. The success rates with medical sedation are lower than anyone would like, and the aftereffects can be crippling. 

The warning gives Sirikit the motivation to speak up.

“He’s tested with fifth-degree inclinations for the last three months.”

Chay struggles to contain his shock. That would put Kinn in a very small group of alphas in Thailand and Southeast Asia. If Chay recalls correctly there are forty-three fifth-degree alphas officially confirmed.

Porsche leans back, and everyone in the room relaxes.

“That makes sense based on what I could smell and sense.” Porsche strokes his chin as he thinks. “My approach to this will need to be different."

“Hia?” Chay’s worried about what his brother is plotting.

Porsche looks at him, and that worry multiplies like buzzing bees in his belly.

“It’ll work this time,” Porsche says, confidence in his voice whereas Chay doesn’t feel the same.

“What will work?” Sirikit asks.

Porsche turns to her and replies. “Bringing a feral alpha back down to baseline isn’t an exact science. Each alpha is unique. I try a variety of things to get the firestorm that is their senses to stop screaming at them.” 

Porsche pauses, and Korn and Sirikit nod as if they are following along. This is his standard spiel; the next part is where it gets tricky.

“Your son is different.”

Chay watches both of them stiffen and start to shut down. He starts running through mantras in his head for patience, hoping to bring some into the room.

“You just said they were all different,” Korn objects.

“I did,” Porsche agrees. “But I have a playbook that usually works. Guide them through meditations and focusing exercises to anchor the senses back to normal.”

“That’s what I understood from Priya,” Sirikit says, bringing up the woman who referred them to Chay and Porsche. Chay knew that job was a good idea. This is the third referral they’ve gotten from it.

“Your son is a fifth-degree alpha,” Porsche continues. “It makes his territorial instincts more intense.”

“The scenting,” Porsche’s guide mutters, drawing all of their attention. He flushes in embarrassment but elaborates when Korn gives him a pointed look. “Khun Kinn has been scenting more. Unconsciously, I believe, but I noticed it.”

Porsche nods. “It’s very common behavior in fifths, and if he’s new to the power level, he won’t have noticed it. Combine that with the fact that the feral state happened,” Porsche pauses to look at the Theerapanyakuls with the soft eyes that always win him favor, “and he’s a cocktail of hormones that could easily explode.”

Sirikit leans forward, weaving her hands together as she places her elbows on her knees.

“So what do we do?” she asks.

“Clear out the wing,” Porsche explains.

This is the part Chay doesn’t like. He hates the idea of Porsche going in with a feral without backup. It’s dangerous, and the risk always seems too high to him.

“Don’t give him anything else to focus on except me.” The confidence that Porsche has is always an impressive thing to see, even if Chay has heard this routine a hundred times. “Let me guide him back without risking derailing his focus if someone else is around.”

“Leave our son completely in your hands,” Korn says skeptically.

“Yes,” Porsche replies without hesitance. “You have to.”

Again, the Theerapanyakuls share a loaded look. Chay can see where the battle lines have been drawn. Korn is still unconvinced, but Sirikit is willing to take the risk. Tension builds between the two, and he decides the bubble needs to be popped.

Leaning forward, Chay snags two wrapped sticky rice snacks, passing one off to Porsche. His brother doesn’t even pay attention as he unwraps it and takes a bite. A pleased hum of surprise makes Chay try his own, finding that beneath the custard is a layer of mango on top of the sticky rice. He quickly takes another bite, enjoying the blend of flavors.

The distraction works.

Whatever power battle between the couple was happening, Sirikit came out on top. She turns to Porsche and says, “Done.”

Porsche breathes out, nodding back in respect.

“On one condition,” Korn says, raising a finger.

Chay feels dread creep up the back of his neck. This man is dangerous. Chay can feel it in his bones.

Korn continues, “You tell us how strong you are.”

Oh fuck.

_________________________

Porsche does not like Korn.

Porsche knows that his paycheck comes from him, but he’s an asshole. Interestingly, his wife doesn’t speak up. She looks at Porsche with eyes that are just as curious and threaded through with steel-like stubbornness.

He can feel Chay watching him, trying to read how he will react.

Korn has stepped on a personal landmine without knowing it.

“I don’t know,” Porsche answers honestly.

Sirikit’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?” she asks.

Porsche turns to Chay, seeing his brother’s nod of encouragement.

“I broke the test,” Porsche says. “The last time I went in.”

“You broke it?” Korn asks incredulously.

Porsche shrugs.

The Theerapanyakuls sit in stunned silence for a moment.

This is always the awkward part, the thing that makes him stand out the most. Breaking the test? Porsche is pretty sure there aren’t many others doing that, and if there are, no one is speaking up about it. He’s got his suspicions about why it happens, but he doesn’t trust these two enough to tell them.

There are a few more pointed looks and back and forth between the older couple, but Porsche can tell they’ve done enough to convince Sirikit, and Korn isn’t willing to risk his son to win this argument.

“Well,” Sirikit manages. “I suppose, in that case, we will leave you to it.” She stands with some hesitance but seems to gain her bearings, and when she turns to Korn it’s with a confident look on her face.

Korn nods, but not before giving Porsche one more long assessing look.

Huh. That was a lot easier than Porsche expected.

“My brother will stay with you,” Porsche says before they can leave. “If something comes up, I’ll contact him, but otherwise I need the whole wing emptied.”

Korn looks to the man behind Porsche.

“It will be done, Khun Korn.”

The house empties remarkably quickly, and with a quick goodbye to Chay that consists of a too-tight hug, Porsche finds himself back in that hallway. He doesn’t approach the door this time, instead sitting at the end of the hall and settling in, clearing his mind.

When he focuses like this, Porsche can use his senses better, so he listens, taking in the noises down the hall.

He can hear Kinn pacing in the room.  Porsche suspects, making laps around the perimeter. That’s in line with feral behavior, which results in heightened territorial instincts. As Porsche listens, the pacing changes, and a low rumble joins it.

Kinn’s growling.

Porsche frowns, focusing harder to see what could have set the other alpha off like this. It doesn’t sound like Kinn is near the door, so he doesn’t think that Kinn knows he’s there.

The growling continues for a few moments before a low whine of pain replaces it.

Porsche’s heartbeat kicks up as concern thrums through him. Something is wrong.

He stands, heading toward the door.

The pained noise happens again, and Porsche moves faster.

The door isn’t locked. Kinn, even on his most instinctual level, is aware enough not to unleash himself on the rest of his household. Porsche assumes these are his rooms, which means the alpha is more inclined to stay there.

He steps inside, looking for Kinn but not spotting him immediately.

The furniture is all very simple, not ornate, almost utilitarian. Porsche doesn’t see much in the way of decorations either. It almost feels like a hotel room, devoid of the personality of an owner because it never has someone in it long enough to leave behind the small things that define a person.

Stepping further into the rooms, he hears a growl to his left. Turning, Porsche has just enough time to spot the blur of Kinn moving before he’s pinned to a wall, hands raised in surrender to try and show that he isn’t a threat.

Kinn’s sharp incisors are right next to his face as one of the most intimidating growls he’s ever heard rumbles near his ear.

Porsche tenses in Kinn’s grip and then relaxes. His odd instincts help here, but he needs to act quickly. He can only think of one way to show Kinn he isn’t a threat. Porsche stretches his arms above his head, willingly moving into a position of surrender and hoping it’s enough to calm Kinn.

Kinn shoves his nose into Porsche’s neck, inhaling deeply before another growl rips out of him. His hands tighten to the point of hurting.

“Kinn,” Porsche says cautiously. He’s not sure how lost to his instincts Kinn is.

A growl is his only response.

“Kinn, I need you to let me go,” Porsche tries again, keeping his voice soothing. “My name’s Porsche and I’m here to help.”

He’s still not gotten a good look at Kinn, too concerned about turning his head and making eye contact. Kinn would take that as aggression, and Porsche needs to avoid that at all costs right now.

Normally, for alphas that haven’t sunk too deeply into their primal states, speaking calmly would work to soothe them. Kinn is a tough case, but when the feral state hit, he was quickly isolated and returned to his territory. Theoretically, that should mean he isn’t too far down.

Kinn pins him harder to the wall, using his body weight to press Porsche into it. The force makes Porsche grunt and pushes some of the air from his lungs. Fuck, this guy is big.

Porsche’s first attempt isn’t working. For some reason, Kinn’s instincts aren’t reading his body language as surrender. Porsche scrambles for another way to address this as he’s pinned by the big, growly alpha. Inspiration strikes, but it’s a terrible idea. 

Porsche decides fuck it and does it anyway.

Tipping his head to the side, Porsche bares his neck to Kinn, letting out a low croon that the other alpha will see as Porsche conceding to him.

For almost any alpha other than Porsche, this would be unthinkable. Kinn’s challenge should make it so Porsche can’t react like this. But he’s always been different, responded differently. Challenges or claims from other alphas don’t rile his instincts the same way.

The next noise Kinn makes is most certainly not a growl. A low thrumming purr starts in the man’s chest and echoes through Porsche’s bones in waves that ebb and flow.

“That’s it, big guy,” he says soothingly. “No one’s threatening you.”

Kinn shifts, easing up on Porsche a bit and giving him room to take a full breath. Porsche takes advantage when Kinn relaxes further, turning his head to get a look at Kinn for the first time.

Oh fuck.

Kinn’s a mess. His clothes are rumpled, his face is flushed, and his hair — which Porsche suspects is usually perfectly coiffed — is out of place.

And yet, he’s beautiful.

Kinn takes another deep breath, and Porsche can see the way his pupils expand.

“Kinn?” he asks cautiously, searching for recognition in Kinn’s eyes.

He doesn’t get it.

Fuck.

That’s not a good sign. 

The other alpha should recognize his own name, but he seems completely lost in his senses. Porsche already knew he was going to be throwing out the normal rulebook, but this confirms it.

Okay. He knows Kinn likes his scent, so he’s going to start there.

Making no sudden moves, Porsche slowly brings his wrist up to Kinn’s face. He places it right under the alpha’s nose, averting his gaze so Kinn doesn’t think it’s a challenge.

A warm breath gusts over the delicate skin of his wrist before Porsche hears Kinn take in another of those deep lungfuls. The rumble starts up again, much like the purr of a very expensive engine. The sound fills the room and Porsche’s head.

Kinn isn’t the only one enjoying this.

He doesn’t usually respond to alphas this way. To be fair, Porsche has never encountered, much less worked with, a level five alpha, but this is still odd for him. Porsche has this insistent need building inside him to get Kinn to react to him. The purring is good, but he wants more.

He shakes his head as if to dispel those thoughts.

Moisture on his wrist draws his attention as Kinn opens his mouth and breathes heavily on the scent gland Porsche has shoved under his nose.

Oh fuckity fuck. Lighting shoots straight up Porsche’s spine, and the rumble in Kinn’s chest somehow picks up, getting louder. The alpha’s eyes are hooded, taking Porsche in and reveling in him.

“Okay,” Porsche says shakily. “That’s enough of that, big guy.” He goes to pull his wrist away, but Kinn rumbles in displeasure, his hand snapping up to grab Porsche’s wrist. “Kinn,” Porsche says in warning. “Let go.”

When he says Kinn’s name this time he can see the spark of recognition in Kinn’s eyes, like Porsche’s scent has helped pull Kinn out of the instinct haze. 

Actually, that’s probably exactly what it’s done.

Porsche works with his clients to ground their senses back to a manageable level. They use touch first, as it’s one of the less heightened senses for most alphas. Skipping to something as strong as scent is unusual, but it seems that’s exactly what’s happened here.

Porsche has one sense grounded, which means he can get more; pull Kinn closer to the surface.

Usually, he doesn’t have to touch his clients. Extreme cases can require it, but most times, an alpha isn’t interested in getting that close to him until after he’s pulled them back from the edge. Kinn hasn’t spent more than a minute since Porsche came into the room without touching him. This means to anchor that sense, he needs something to catch Kinn’s attention.

A desire bubbles up inside Porsche, one that his instincts cry out in favor of as soon as the idea has solidified. 

Porsche says fuck it and goes with his gut. With his free hand, once again telegraphing his movements, Porsche reaches for Kinn’s hair. Gently, he eases his fingers into it, smoothing it back into place.

Kinn tips his head into Porsche’s hand, asking to be petted.

“There you go, big guy.” 

He’s not sure where the nickname has come from. Kinn’s not more than a couple of centimeters taller than him, but he’s as broad as a bus. Porsche suspects the nickname will stick.

He digs his fingers into Kinn’s hair, scritching at his scalp, and Kinn’s eyes slide into slits in pleasure. The thrumming has continued, and the death grip on Porsche’s wrist has let up. The alpha still doesn’t let him go though.

“Kinn?” Porsche says again, and this time, there’s more than recognition in Kinn’s eyes. He surfaces for a moment before he’s pulled back under.

Dammit.

“Don’t give up on me, big guy. I’ve got you. We’re gonna get through this,” Porsche reassures Kinn.

Kinn’s focus lasers in on him, and Porsche’s brain hops, skips, and jumps to another grounding technique. 

“Do you like my voice?” Porsche says, not able to keep the tease out of his words. Kinn inches closer, tipping his head to the side as if he’s a puppy trying to hear better. “If you want me to talk, I can chatter with the best of them.”

Kinn rumbles again, but it’s a short one, almost like he’s telling Porsche to go on.

“My brother is better at this than I am, but I got yelled at enough as a kid for always running my mouth,” Porsche says, grinning. “Yok—”

Kinn makes an inquiring noise, and Porsche’s heart thuds in his chest in surprise.

“My adopted mom,” Porsche explains. “She always said one day I would write a check with my mouth that my ass couldn’t cash.”

A weird stuttering chuff leaves Kinn’s chest, distinctly different from the purring from before.

“Did you just laugh at me, big guy?”

Kinn grins, and there’s a whole lot of teeth there, but that is absolutely a shit-eating smile.

“Yeah, well fuck you too, buddy.”

A look enters Kinn’s eyes then that Porsche thinks is distinctly predatory. It makes him gulp, and his heart picks up, pattering a quick beat that leaves him jittery.

It’s clear Kinn’s emerging from the haze of his instincts. His senses aren’t driving him wild like they were in the past; incapacitating his ability to think. There are two more senses to go, and Porsche is much more ready to handle one than the other.

The problem is that he’s not noticing much sensitivity to sight from Kinn. They’re in a dim room, which means Kinn’s not having to adjust to a bright light, but he doesn’t seem to be struggling either.

“How are your eyes?” Porsche asks. He thumbs at the corner of Kinn’s right eye, his finger brushing against lashes as he does so.

Kinn hums, the sound softer and more human than the other noises he’s made so far. Oh, oh Porsche is close now. 

He holds his hand in front of Kinn’s face, fingers spread and palm facing Kinn. “Hey, big guy. Can you focus on this for me?”

Kinn does, his pupils expanding and contracting. There’s the sensitivity Porsche was missing before.

“Just look at my thumb,” Porsche reassures him. “Do you see the scar?”

Kinn gently touches where Porsche caught a glass shard the wrong way and gave himself four stitches because he was a stubborn idiot who didn’t want to get the broom. His finger traces the faint line.

Porsche wiggles his ring finger. “And here?”

Kinn’s eyes shift focus, looking at the finger Porsche directed him to.

“What do you see there?”

Kinn taps on the back of the gold ring Porsche wears. It was his father’s, not his wedding ring, but a gift from his own father that Pat had cherished. Porsche has made sure to take very, very good care of it.

Kinn brings his own hand up, showing Porsche the ring on his finger.

Porsche smiles. “Yeah, we both have rings, don’t we.”

Kinn hums, pleased with the connection. His expression shifts, taking on a mischievous glint. Kinn folds down his thumb, wiggling the four remaining fingers.

This little shit.

Yeah, Porsche is well aware of what sense is left, and Kinn appears to have enough awareness now to be cheeky. It’s a good sign.

“So I see you’re a funny guy,” Porsche says, unamused.

Kinn just shoots him a terribly cheesy wink. Porsche thanks all of his lucky stars this man can’t speak yet, because he’s certain that the line Kinn would have just used would have made him cringe.

Kinn grabs Porsche’s wrist again, but this time the grip is controlled, gentle even. He pulls Porsche in closer, leaving no space between them. Porsche’s heart picks back up again, pattering away.

The last sense is taste.

__________________________

Sirikit leads him to what Chay would consider an elaborate guest room. His go-bag doesn’t contain enough to fill a single drawer, but that’s fine. This is temporary. He’s going to wait until she’s gone to unpack though.

Chay pokes his head into the bedroom looking around before turning back to Sirikit who’s lingering in the doorway.

“Would you like to join us for dinner?” She asks. “It will just be me and my son, Tankhun. Korn has an appointment.”

Chay’s much more inclined to accept that knowing Korn won’t be there. He’s not sure what to make of the eldest Theerapanyakul brother. His research on the family before the job indicated that Tankhun was a bit of a shut-in. Interestingly, Chay found an extensive online fashion enterprise with a follower count that boggled the mind.

Chay’s got a hunch that this dinner could be very informative, so he agrees. 

“I’d be happy to,” he says with his most charming smile.

He sees the way she relaxes in response, but there’s a cunning look in Sirikit’s eyes that tells him she is aware he’s trying to charm her. Chay wouldn’t expect anything less from a woman of Sirikit’s standing.

Chay expects dinner to be held in a fancy dining room, somewhere that matches the extravagance of the rest of the house. Chay is very very wrong.

The bodyguard assigned to him is a charming man named Pete. His smiles have done a lot to endear him to Chay because he reminds Chay a bit of Porsche. They’ve chattered as Pete has led him to the dining room, and Pete’s got a great ear for music if you ask Chay.

“Did you see the new music video?” Chay asks, chatting about the most recent video Wik dropped last week.

Pete nods. “Yeah, I liked this song even though it’s really different from his other stuff.”

“It felt like watching a movie,” Chay comments. “Like I was seeing a whole story unravel as Wik sang. There’s all kinds of theories about what it means.”

“Oh?” Pete says, sounding a lot like Porsche when he’s getting ready to tease Chay. “Are you one of those fans?”

Chay blushes, caught in his obsession. “No,” he mumbles.

Pete chuckles and nudges his shoulder. “I’m teasing, Chay. I’m glad you like him too.”

It breaks the embarrassment that consumed Chay.

“P’Pete could I get your Line then? Maybe we can talk about Wik more? My friends aren’t nearly as into him as I am.”

Pete frowns and Chay feels his stomach drop, preparing for a rejection.

Pete waves his hands as if to dispel whatever must be showing on Chay’s face. “It’s not that I don’t want to share it,” Pete is quick to explain. “It’s that I’m not allowed my phone while on duty.”

“Oh,” Chay says, brought up short.

“Yeah,” Pete agrees, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Maybe I can give it to you later,” he suggests.

Chay nods and then realizes they’re standing outside of a closed door. “Is this it?”

Pete nods and gets the door for him.

Instead of the fancy dining room he was expecting, he finds a cozy kitchen with a tall bar counter and a nice round wooden table off to the side. There are windows under the cabinets in the kitchen and framing the space, giving a lot of mid-evening sunlight to the room, making it feel warm and cozy.

Chay is sensing a theme with Sirikit and the spaces she likes to be in.

“Chay,” Sirikit says with a smile and a spatula in her hand. 

She waves him in and smiles at Pete, who closes the door behind him. Tankhun is perched on one of the barstools, and eyeing Chay with doubt. Chay notes that Tankhun has changed outfits from when he saw him earlier. This one is cozier, a sweater that looks ultra soft paired with wide-legged jeans that Chay knows are very popular right now.

“Mama, you invited him,” Tankhun says, a mou of disapproval on his face.

Sirikit tsks at Tankhun, putting her hands on her hips and leveling him with a look that Chay has seen Porsche get from Yok all the time.

“Yes,” she says, brooking no argument on the issue. “And you’re going to be nice to him.”

Chay slides onto a stool next to Tankhun and says, “It’s okay. He doesn’t have to like me. I get it; this is a scary moment for you guys.”

Tankhun’s eyes cut to him, suspicion on his face. Sirikit takes a bracing breath and then looks back at her son.

“Be that as it may, there were manners taught in this house at some point.”

Tankhun huffs, but he turns to Chay and introduces himself.

“I’m Tankhun Theerapanyakul, the better, smarter, and prettier one. Who are you?”

Friendly it is not, but Chay is certain he can change that.

“Porchay Pitchaya Kittisawat, phi, but you can call me Chay.”

Tankhun stares at him and then launches into a barrage of questions that Chay does his best to keep up with.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Studies?”

“Marketing.”

“Favorite drama?”

“Bad and Crazy,” Chay responds easily.

A glint enters Tankhun’s eyes and he smiles genuinely for the first time. “You’re a Lee Dong-wook fan then?”

“Yes, phi. What’s your favorite drama?”

Chay doesn’t have a clue what he’s caused by asking this question, but what follows is a very long explanation that takes the entire time that Sirikit is cooking to wrap up. He nods and hums where needed, but it’s clear Tankhun doesn’t need him to keep this conversation up.

A few times, when Tankhun is particularly passionate, Sirikit turns and winks at Chay as if saying she knows what he did and approves. Chay will deny using his online sleuthing to charm Tankhun for as long as he needs to.

By the time Tankhun wraps up, there’s an array of dishes in front of them, smells coming from them that make Chay’s mouth water.

“This looks delicious,” Chay says.

“Mama is the best cook,” Tankhun declares.

“You’re lucky then,” Chay says offhandedly. “Yok can’t cook anything more complex than fried rice, and if Porsche cooks, it’s more likely to catch on fire than be edible.”

Sirikit chuckles but looks intrigued. “Yok?”

“Oh,” Chay says, putting down his spoon. “She’s our adoptive mother. She took Porsche and me in when Porsche kinda exploded into her life about a job opening and wouldn’t leave. She’s the best.”

Sirkit smiles warmly at him, but again he catches that gleam in her eyes that implies a lot is going on in her head that Chay isn’t seeing.

“What happened to your parents?” Tankhun asks offhandedly, slurping up noodles. 

A pit in Chay’s stomach turns in on itself, gaining a gravitational pull that gathers all the delicious food he’s just eaten and swirls it into a mess. Chay stares down at the table.

“Tankhun,” Sirikit chides.

“What?” Tankhun asks, then he looks at Chay. “Oh. I’m sorry, nong.” The older man reaches out and puts a hand on Chay’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “There’s stuff I don’t like talking about too.”

Chay fiddles with his utensils, contemplating what to say. He feels like he needs to say something.  

“It’s okay.” The words are harsher than he expected when they crawl out of his throat. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t make the loss any less painful sometimes.” Sirikit reaches out to him as she speaks like she too wants to soothe him. It’s a kind thought and one that Chay appreciates.

“I…I didn’t really know them. Yok and Porsche are the ones that raised me.”

Sirikit hums and Tankhun squeezes his shoulder as he chews on his food for a moment. “How’d you and your brother get into the alpha grounding business? It’s not exactly something that most people pursue.”

Tankhun isn’t wrong. Porsche’s work is usually deemed pretty dangerous because working with feral alphas can easily result in injuries if you don’t know what you’re doing. Porsche has gone through all the training to make him legit though, so that’s a rare event for them.

Chay chews on his food and then answers, “My mom used to do this. She was a really talented omega who excelled at what she did. When Porsche was little, and before me, she would take him on the easier jobs.”

Sirikit looks shocked at that. “She brought a child with her?”

Chay shrugs. “Dad was working, and she didn’t have any family to leave Porsche with. It’s why he decided to follow in her footsteps. Also, he’s really good at it.”

“Hmm,” Sirikit hums, seeming to be curious about this. “Tell us more about your brother.”

That’s easy. Chay can talk about Porsche just as well as he can about Wik. He launches into telling Tankhun and Sirikit all about his older brother.

___________________________

Porsche’s back hits the wall again as Kinn grips the back of his neck and holds him firmly in place. The other alpha is looming in front of him, but it’s got none of the posturing aggression from before. No, the way Kinn is looking at Porsche now sends tingles through his belly.

Porsche swallows, never looking away from Kinn. For the first time in a long time, he’s not sure how to handle a patient.

So far, Kinn has sometimes reacted in ways that Porsche is familiar with, while at others he's acted completely outside of what Porsche's training has taught him to expect. Maybe it’s because Kinn is a fifth-level alpha, maybe it’s something else entirely.

Porsche is certain as he stares into Kinn’s gaze, looking at everything boiling in those dark eyes, that Kinn’s no longer just testing as a fifth. Perhaps the feral episode tipped him further along on the scale, but one thing is for certain, Kinn’s a full-blown fifth now.

That knowledge has Porsche’s heart skittering, some weird combination of anticipation and anxiety mixing in his chest.

Kinn leans closer, his eyes slipping down to Porsche’s lips. Unconsciously, Porsche licks over them, Kinn tracking the motion carefully.

“Kinn,” Porsche says, trying to keep his voice steady. It’s harder than he expected. “Big guy, think about this.”

Kinn looks back into his eyes, impossibly more intense than before.

Porsche doesn’t get the chance to say anything more. Kinn uses his grip on Porsche’s hair to yank his head back again, baring his throat. Porsche just manages to swallow down an absolutely filthy groan — hair-pulling always gets him going.

Wetness on his neck draws Porsche’s attention, his mind having slipped a bit trying to control his reactions. As if his brain is buffering, it takes him a few seconds to cotton on to the fact that Kinn is licking him.

What the fuck.

Kinn rumbles deep and low, a noise that Porsche is wholly unfamiliar with, and is certain he couldn’t make if you pointed a gun at his head, but that isn’t the issue. 

The real problem is that when Kinn makes the noise, his scent also explodes in the room, the claim stronger than anything Porsche has ever smelled before. It feels like a physical force; it’s that strong. Porsche’s head goes dizzy as all he can breathe is Kinn, muscles relaxing and head tipping back further into Kinn’s grip.

“Good boy,” a deep throaty voice says.

Porsche wants to respond to Kinn, but he can’t. He’s lost all ability to speak or think of anything other than letting Kinn have what he wants.

Kinn gently runs his nose up the fragile skin of Porsche’s neck, the sensation making Porsche close his eyes. It feels better than it has any right to. It only gets worse when Kinn breathes on his neck, making goosebumps rise on his skin.

Then agonizingly slowly, Kinn licks again.

It feels like a brand. A claim to match the one his scent is making. Like Kinn has tattooed himself right there on Porsche’s skin. He’s grabbed onto Kinn’s shoulders, and now as all of the sensations threaten to overwhelm him, he digs his fingers in.

Kinn rumbles again and his scent leaks out, fresh waves of it filling Porsche’s nose. He’s switched to tiny laps against Porsche’s neck which are not doing anything better for Porsche’s sanity.

When Kinn stops, Porsche holds his breath.

A raspy, “Fuck,” escapes from Kinn.

“Are you back?” Porsche asks.

“Mostly,” Kinn says lowly. Words still seem difficult, but Kinn is all there mentally, his brain no longer a mess of blaring noises and overpowering senses. “What are you?” Kinn asks.

A groan slips past Porsche’s lips when Kinn pulls on his hair again. Fuck, he has to stop that. Trying to escape Kinn’s grip, Porsche moves his head away, Kinn surprisingly allows it, and Porsche responds to Kinn’s question.

“That’s a hard question to answer.” 

“Try,” Kinn says, nibbling at Porsche’s skin.

“Technically, my file says I’m an abnormal alpha with non-aggressive tendencies.”

Kinn finally pulls back at his words, shooting Porsche a questioning look. Porsche shrugs in response.

“The MacIntyre doesn’t really know what to do with me. The last time I went in to be tested the results came back inconclusive. They tried the adapted Okazaki a few years back, but that wasn’t any better. ”

Porsche isn’t self-conscious about this, but it is hard to talk about. He’s found most people have one of two reactions, disgust or apprehension. Neither is very pleasant for Porsche.

“Is that why you smell like that?” Kinn asks, burying his face in Porsche’s neck.

“Like what?” Porsche asks.

He hears Kinn take a deep breath, the alpha inhaling loudly enough for Porsche to think he’s huffing Porsche’s scent.

“Perfect,” Kinn replies before licking Porsche again.

“Big guy, you gotta stop that,” Porsche complains half-heartedly, pushing at Kinn’s chest.

Kinn nips his skin one more time and then pulls back. As soon as they aren’t touching, Porsche’s head clears. He can still smell Kinn, but the slight fog that had descended while Kinn was all over him has lifted.

Porsche doesn’t have time to linger on that thought though.

He watches as Kinn blinks, shaking his head, and then blinks again.

“Kinn?” he asks cautiously.

Kinn’s eyes focus on him, but they aren’t like they were a few moments ago. This is the same wild look Kinn gave him when Porsche first came into the room.

Well, fuck.

Thinking quickly, Porsche shoves his wrist under Kinn’s nose, ignoring the warning growl he gets stepping toward Kinn. Something weird is happening between them, and it’s high time Porsche tossed out all the usual approaches.

“Kinn?” he asks again.

Dark eyes flicker to his, recognition sparking as Kinn’s hands settle on Porsche’s waist. His hands squeeze reflexively a few times, and Porsche can see the way he gains a bit more control.

“Lick,” he tells Kinn, wrist still bared toward the other alpha.

Kinn does.

His warm, wet tongue flickers over the sensitive skin of Porsche’s wrist, lapping and tickling as it goes. One blink and then two and Kinn shakes his head again, dispelling his own fog.

“How did you know that would work?” Kinn asks, voice still raspy and ruined.

Porsche shrugs, but he keeps his wrist under Kinn’s nose.

“I didn’t. Educated guess.”

Kinn rumbles low and strangely enticingly. Porsche takes another step closer to the other alpha, leaving them brushing against each other with the slightest move.

“It’s not fully under control,” Porsche muses aloud.

Kinn frowns. “Should it be?”

Porsche nods. “Yeah, we’ve grounded all of your senses. Most of the time I don’t have to go through all five with clients. Once we have at least three they can do the rest themselves.”

Kinn’s hands slip below Porsche’s t-shirt, fingers tracing over the bare skin of his back. Porsche watches shock fall across Kinn’s face.

“What?” he asks.

Kinn’s brows furrow but he answers, “Touching you helps.”

“Touching me?” Porsche says, confused.

Kinn nods and then spreads both palms over Porsche’s bare skin.

“Yes,” he rasps, closing his eyes. “It helps a lot.”

Nothing about this is going by the book, but the reason Porsche is so fucking good at this because he doesn’t let abnormalities shake him. He’s had tough clients before, and Kinn is just another odd case. His brain goes into overdrive, thinking through what they can do.

“Okay,” he says, confidence back now he has a semblance of a plan. Kinn looks up at him, waiting to see what Porsche has to say. “We’re going to test it again.”

Kinn frowns, brows furrowing.

Porsche holds up a hand to appease him. “Hear me out. I need to make sure that I can pull you back again and we need to make sure that you actually still need me.”

Kinn contemplates his words and Porsche waits him out. He’s pointedly ignoring the pleasant sensation of Kinn’s finger drawing nonsense shapes on his lower back.

“Okay,” Kinn agrees. “We try it and then what? What happens if I end up slipping back again?”

Porsche peers around Kinn’s bulk, spying his stupidly large cream couch. 

“Let’s get comfortable first,” Porsche says gesturing to the seating arrangement. “We need to be close enough to cut it off quickly, but far enough apart to see if you’re still under.”

They shuffle awkwardly for a moment before Kinn grumbles and takes one hand away, crowding close to Porsche’s side and guiding him with the hand still on his lower back. It’s weirdly nice.

They sit on the couch, close but not touching anymore. Kinn still looks fine, so Porsche scooches a bit further away.

Kinn nods to him to do it again, and Porsche moves once more.

“Good?” he asks Kinn.

“Yeah,” Kinn replies, but his voice sounds rougher than before.

Porsche moves back another bit and a fierce growl ripples through the room.

“Too much,” Kinn grits out, fingers gripping his thighs so hard it looks like he’s going to tear through his pants.

“Fuck,” Porsche curses under his breath, but he returns to Kinn, who doesn’t waste time on propriety. Kinn hauls Porsche right into his lap and buries his nose into Porsche’s neck.

Kinn’s arms wrap around him tight, and Porsche does the same, letting Kinn burrow into him. It means he feels Kinn’s breath huff against his skin as the alpha takes in deep breaths of Porsche’s scent to try and stabilize again.

“That didn’t work,” Kinn grumbles.

Porsche frowns over his head. He’s running through the training he’s had related to level five alphas and coming up concerningly short. A poke to his side draws his attention back to Kinn. The other alpha does it again and Porsche swears it feels petulant.

“Really?” he asks, leaning back so he can look at Kinn, despite the alpha’s grumbles of protest.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Kinn demands. There’s an air of entitlement that, if Porsche weren’t so preoccupied, would make him want to ruffle Kinn’s feathers.

“Your mother said you were testing as a level five.”

Kinn frowns and looks away from him. He takes a moment before a big sigh changes his whole demeanor. Kinn slouches back on the couch, tugging Porsche closer as he does so.

“The doctors said my results were indicating that in my last two tests.”

“And you get tested every three years, right?” Porsche asks.

“That’s standard medical recommendation. Yes.” Kinn quirks a brow at him, wondering where Porsche is going with this.

“What happened six years ago?”

Kinn tenses up. He’s done it before, but this time is different. If Kinn was tense before, this feels like all of his muscles have fused into pure steel. Porsche strokes his fingers through Kinn’s hair. Despite the negative reaction to his question, Kinn doesn’t protest the physical affection.

“It was seven years ago,” Kinn corrects, his voice low and dangerous.

Porsche rubs tiny circles in the thin skin behind Kinn’s ears. He’s working off instinct here. Porsche’s training did not cover what to do in this situation. 

His gut seems to be working, too.

“Tankhun was taken then,” Kinn explains.

A picture starts forming in Porsche’s head.

“They had him for two weeks before we could find him.” Kinn’s voice is hoarse as he speaks. “I didn’t think we would.”

Pressing closer to Kinn, Porsche speaks quietly, “But you did.”

“Yes,” Kinn says, “and no.”

Porsche makes an inquisitive noise, trying to get the alpha to keep speaking.

“He wasn’t the same. Not that I think anyone could be based on what I saw.” Kinn pauses, and his eyes go blurry, like he’s seeing some far-off room hidden in the past. “Fuck. I don’t know how he survived at all.”

Kinn is quiet for a few moments, and Porsche doesn’t have the heart to make him relive it more. Besides, he’s put things together. Tankhun is a trigger point for Kinn’s instincts. Seven years ago would have put Kinn around twenty, which is still a developing time for most secondary genders. 

His brother’s kidnapping would have been a high-stress event for Kinn as a young alpha. Those kinds of things leave their mark. Combine that with an attack on Tankhun now, and you have the perfect situation for Kinn to go feral.

“Tell me something about you,” Kinn says. He’s clearly trying to fight down the desperation in his voice, but Porsche won’t hold that against him.

“What do you want to know?” Porsche asks.

“How the fuck did an alpha go into feral therapy?”

Porsche chuckles having expected this question. It’s one everyone asks.

“My mother did it. When I was little, she used to take me to work sometimes when the sitter didn’t work out.”

“Was that safe?” Kinn asks, interrupting him but not pulling away where he’s tucked his nose into the crook of Porsche’s neck. His breath is humid and hot.

“Yeah, she knew what she was doing, and she was damn good at it.” 

Porsche’s thighs are starting to ache in this position, so he wiggles in Kinn’s lap. The other alpha doesn’t protest, loosening his grip so Porsche can get comfy.

“Seeing what she did,” Porsche continues to explain. “It made me want to do the same. To be that calm in the middle of a hurricane.”

Kinn hums low, the noise musical like he’s humming along to a song. Kinn’s hands have crept back up under Porsche’s shirt, once again tracing patterns into his skin.

“How are you feeling?” Porsche mumbles. 

His head feels weirdly heavy, and Kinn’s shoulder looks mighty tempting to just rest his forehead against. In the back of his mind, he knows he shouldn’t, but the pull is so strong. When he gives in, Kinn makes that same happy hum again.

“Fine,” Kinn replies. “Good,” he amends immediately. His hand spread across Porsche’s back, big and warm.

Porsche feels a buzz under his skin, like the anticipation before kissing someone. There’s all that potential for more, for something to bloom, and you’re not quite sure what’s going to happen.

“The other scent on you…” Kinn says, trailing off like it’s a question.

“That’s Chay,” Porsche explains. “My little brother.”

“Ah,” Kinn says.

Porsche tips his head to the side without getting up from Kinn’s shoulder. He squints at the side of Kinn’s face.

“What would you have done if I said something else?” he asks, wanting to poke at Kinn and find out what happens.

Kinn’s dark eyes cut to him, and Porsche feels his breath catch. There’s so much packed into Kinn’s gaze that he has no idea what to do with it. It’s electrifying and a little terrifying and still just a hint wild.

“That depends on what you would have said.”

They stare at each other, locked in place by a force that feels more powerful than the gravity that keeps them rooted to the Earth. They linger there, trapped.

Porsche feels the lightest touch on his chin, prompting him to move his face just a little higher. Kinn’s eyes dart down to his lips and then back to Porsche’s eyes, a question hidden in their dark depths.

“Yes,” Porsche whispers so softly he’s not sure he actually speaks the word out loud.

When Kinn kisses him, it isn’t gentle. Everything leading up to it was, but the other alpha kisses with the same wild passion that’s been lurking in his gaze the whole night. Porsche just tries to hold on.

The tingling from before has become a full-on buzz, creating frantic energy in Porsche’s body that he doesn’t know what to do with. Kinn’s still kissing him, tongue teasing at Porsche’s and lips a temptation that he can’t resist.

For a moment, Porsche is lost in the sensations. They aren’t two separate beings, they’re one. Joined together temporarily but working in harmony. All of Porsche sings at the perfect pitch to match with Kinn.

Porsche pulls back, gasping for air as Kinn ducks down and mouths at his neck, big hands pulling Porsche in closer.

A dam breaks, and they crash together.

Porsche is frantic. A horrible need to feel more of Kinn growing under his skin and driving him forward. The other alpha is no better, gripping him close and happy to stick his tongue back down Porsche’s throat.

When they aren’t kissing, their breath makes for the only soundtrack in the room. Rough, panting, desperate noises that Porsche soaks in.

He wraps his arms around Kinn’s neck, pulling him in closer and angling his neck to make the kiss work. It aches a bit, but that’s worth it as far as Porsche is concerned.

His fingertips tingle with the energy they’ve been creating, and to soothe them, Porsche threads them through Kinn’s soft, thick hair. He gets a firm grip and then yanks the alpha’s head back, finally getting Kinn to bare his throat.

Kinn growls but doesn’t fight his grip. Porsche decides that’s all the permission he needs, and he ducks down to take a deep breath of Kinn’s scent from the place it’s strongest, the scent glands on his neck.

Smelling that scent isn’t enough. He craves more. His tongue flicks across Kinn’s skin, taking a tiny taste, and Porsche’s mouth waters. He latches on to Kinn’s neck, sucking and mouthing at Kinn’s scent glands.

This is way too familiar for two people who have just met. For fuck’s sake, Porsche hasn’t even done this with one of the many people he’s hooked up with in his life. This level of scenting is not something you do with just anyone, and yet Kinn is loving it.

The alpha is a puddle of goo under Porsche, humming low and happy and stroking up and down Porsche’s back. When Porsche breaks off, leaving a parting kiss, Kinn softly whines in upset.

Tracing his nose up Kinn’s neck, Porsche nips at the strong hinge of the other man’s jaw, enjoying the texture of Kinn’s stubble at the end of the day.

“Porsche,” Kinn says, attempting to put a warning in his words.

He fails utterly.

“Yes, big guy?” Porsche asks, not moving away from Kinn’s skin.

“Don’t. Tease.” 

This time, the warning is loud and clear.

Porsche ignores it.

He runs the tip of his nose over Kinn’s skin, nudging so that Kinn tips his head back further. Oh, so delicately he starts leaving fleeting kisses down Kinn’s throat. When he gets to the dip of Kinn’s collarbone, he licks the small hollow, tasting Kinn again.

The pleased rumble from before is back, and Kinn’s scent swells. Again his claim sweeps through the room. The other alpha’s hands are on Porsche’s ass, grip firm, and fingers squeezing. Porsche likes how that feels.

He rolls his hips back, encouraging Kinn more.

Kinn groans and demands, “Again, do that again.”

The only response Porsche gives is a sharp nip to Kinn’s skin. In retaliation, Kinn uses his grasp to pull Porsche in, aligning their hips and giving Porsche some of the sweetest friction he’s ever felt. It’s his turn to groan raggedly and he can almost sense the smug satisfaction that rolls off of Kinn.

Porsche wants to sass back at Kinn. He wants to give the quippy reply that’s on the tip of his tongue but there’s a fire burning inside of him that demands more. Porsche rolls his hips, grinding down onto Kinn’s lap with a filthy move that has them both panting.

“Fuck,” Kinn hisses low and ragged.

Porsche leans back, wanting better leverage and needing to give up mouthing at Kinn’s exposed chest to do that. He puts his hands on Kinn’s shoulders and rolls his hips again, watching what the move does to the other alpha.

Kinn’s eyes slide shut, and pleasure blooms across his features. A little jerk of Kinn’s hips almost disrupts Porsche’s rhythm, but he manages to ride out the movement. It takes them a couple of tries but when they get the balance right, it’s electric.

Arousal burns through Porsche as pleasure sparks and fizzles each time he and Kinn grind together. They’re pressed so tightly that Porsche is losing track of where he ends and Kinn begins.

This is so intense. Porsche’s head feels heavy, his limbs tingling with the need that’s driving him on. He stares at Kinn, who looks just as desperate as he feels. In the back of his head, Porsche feels the prickle of confusion, but it’s so easily pushed aside in the moment.

Porsche is fully hard at this point, and he can feel the heavy press of Kinn against his ass. Their breath is ragged, both of them breathing hard, but Porsche wants more. More kisses, more friction, more Kinn.

As if he can sense that need, Kinn wraps his arm around Porsche’s waist and pulls him impossibly closer, leaving their fronts plastered together. Porsche looks down at Kinn, who is staring up at him, eyes dark and lips swollen from their kisses earlier.

“Like this?” Kinn asks softly.

Porsche can tell he’s all there. The feral episode has passed and Kinn’s eyes are clear, besides the arousal.

Porsche nods. “Yeah,” he whispers back, “like this.”

The next part should be them frantically grinding their way toward climax. It should be both of them desperate and rushed to tip over the edge to relieve the tension that’s been building between them.

It’s not.

Kinn guides Porsche to a beat that is slow and sensuous and all that more delicious for the way it lets him savor this moment. They stare into each other’s eyes, Porsche’s fingers locked in Kinn’s hair, and breathing the same air. Their hips roll, grinding together and making Porsche release tiny noises of pleasure.

“That’s it,” Kinn says, voice low and pleased. “Come on, baby.”

The pet name makes Porsche swallow. 

He feels dizzy, the pleasure bursting through him like little bottle rockets. It’s taking all of his abilities to keep his eyes open, but Porsche doesn’t want to look away from Kinn. The eye contact is so intense, but it feels like to look away would be to lose something fundamental about this moment.

Kinn must feel the same because he’s barely even blinking.

As the pleasure builds, Kinn doesn’t let Porsche speed up. It’s excruciating, the slow steady pace Kinn’s set for them. Porsche’s blood is humming with need, his hips aching for more, and yet Kinn keeps him at the same pace.

“Behave,” Kinn warns with a growl.

Porsche whines in response, words failing him.

“No.” Kinn doesn’t back down. “Savor it.”

“Too much,” Porsche manages to say, the words breathy and desperate. He’d feel embarrassed if he weren’t so fucking ready to come right now.

Kinn hums low and deep. “Is it?” There’s a teasing air to his words. “Is it too much or are you just greedy?”

Porsche sinks his fingers into Kinn’s back in response, hips still working to grind them together in that deep, slow rhythm that is pulling him apart at the seams.

Kinn shoots him a toothy grin and barges on with the filth. Clearly, the alpha has recovered fully if he’s able to spew things like this.

“Look at you,” Kinn says, the words soft yet cutting in the mocking way they are spoken. “Moving your hips like that.” Kinn pauses as he guides Porsche in another roll of his hips. “You’re practically begging to be fucked.”

Finally, Porsche’s instincts snap. He snarls, baring his teeth at Kinn.

All it earns him is a chuckle.

“Oh come on, Porsche. You can do better than that.”

Porsche bristles at Kinn’s taunting words. He hasn’t stopped grinding against Kinn, but now it’s not just a desire to be closer, to get more friction. Now Porsche wants to put Kinn in his place.

Porsche moves, pulling Kinn to the side with all his weight, and pinning the other alpha to the couch. He leans down, letting his incisors drop, and growls deep and dangerous in Kinn’s face. The noise echoes off the wall-to-ceiling windows in the room and reverberates back to them.

Kinn smirks.

A sudden moment of vertigo is all the warning Porsche gets before his breath is knocked out of his lungs when his back hits the floor. Kinn looms above him, bearing his own teeth and letting out a bone-rattling growl.

Oh fuck.

Porsche knew Kinn was powerful, but this is on a whole different level. It’s like all of Kinn’s will is pressed tight up against Porsche, forcing him to submit. He’s never encountered an alpha with the ability to rile up his instincts, but that’s exactly what Kinn is doing.

Porsche struggles underneath Kinn, not giving in the way the alpha demands. It doesn’t make Kinn back down an inch though. The alpha grabs Porsche’s wrists, yanking his arms above his head and pinning Porsche’s hips.

“Give in,” Kinn growls.

Porsche jerks and arches to try and get away from Kinn’s grasp.

“No,” he snarls.

Kinn’s mouth drops open, fangs glinting with the saliva that’s produced when they drop. Porsche feels the wetness drip onto his neck as Kinn holds him, despite the wriggling, and sets his teeth around Porsche’s scent gland for a moment.

“Give. In,” Kinn demands again.

Porsche snarls in response, still twisting in Kinn’s grasp.

Despite the growling and hints of violence, they’re both still rock hard. Porsche can feel Kinn pressed against his thigh, while his own cock is leaking into his pants. He’s not sure he’s ever been this turned on before.

Kinn sets his teeth on Porsche’s skin again, leaving the hint of a warning there before licking over the skin instead. He growls, the noise a pleased one.

Porsche squirms again, feeling Kinn’s teeth prick his skin. The other alpha is careful, making sure to not harm Porsche, despite his ornery behavior.

“Porsche,” Kinn growls, a threat clear in his voice.

Porsche still isn’t ready to surrender to Kinn. He strains against the other alpha’s grasp, catching Kinn off guard or perhaps just breaking his grip, and flips them again. Looming over Kinn, Porsche pins his hips, leaning down to get in Kinn’s face.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Porsche rumbles.

Instead of setting Kinn off, Porsche’s words seem to light a fire in the other alpha. His gaze gets even heavier, the alpha rolling his hips up to grind against Porsche’s ass.

Then he opens his fucking mouth.

“Look at you,” Kinn says. “Full of all that power. Snarling and demanding exactly what you want, baby.”

Porsche turns away from Kinn, leaning back only to be caught by the alpha’s hands. He jerks back to look at Kinn.

“Don’t go shy on me now,” Kinn taunts him.

“Fuck you,” Porsche spits. “I’m not shy.”

Kinn grins at him, all fangs and barely hidden violence. “Prove it,” he demands.

Porsche lurches down, kissing Kinn and licking his way into the other alpha’s mouth. He doesn’t give Kinn an inch, demanding and taking what he wants. Kinn groans into the kiss, hips rolling again.

When they break apart Kinn murmurs, “That’s it, sweetheart. Show me what you want.”

Porsche pants, looking down at the powerful alpha below him.

“There’s something wrong with you,” Porsche says, voice hoarse.

Kinn chuckles. “Right back at you, babe.”

They linger there for a moment. Unspoken things shared between them in a loaded look that Porsche is still trying to decipher the meaning of when they clash together in another kiss. He gives up trying to keep Kinn pinned, allowing the other alpha to surge up and pull him in closer.

Again Kinn sets that slow, agonizing pace that makes the hair on Porsche’s arms stand up it feels so good. A golden pool of pleasure is building up inside Porsche, growing so slowly it feels like torture.

“Kinn,” he pants. “Kinn.”

They’re both clutching at each other, breath mingling as the slow grind of their hips pushes them both closer to the edge.

“Fuck, Porsche,” Kinn hisses, pulling Porsche down so their fronts are pressed together.

Porsche can feel how close he’s gotten. The tumble into oblivion is just out of reach. He just needs a little bit more. A quiet keening noise escapes him and humiliation bubbles up in his belly along with the incessant arousal.

“So needy,” Kinn croons.

Porsche digs his fingers into Kinn’s shoulders at his words. The burn of embarrassment is on his cheeks, but he doesn’t protest. He wants Kinn to continue.

Like the alpha can sense that, he tips his head to the side, pressing his lips to Porsche’s ear, and whispers, “You’re not fooling anyone, Porsche. I can see exactly how desperate you are, how badly you need this.”

Porsche closes his eyes as the pleasure swells within him. He’s so close now.

“You’re just a needy little slut about to come in his jeans,” Kinn says, the words slipping into Porsche and pulling him along into freefall. “Let me hear how desperate you are, baby.”

Porsche moans, trembling in Kinn’s arms as he falls apart, the slow grind of Kinn’s hips against his making the orgasm stretch and linger in a way he’s unprepared for. Porsche cries out again, trembling and collapsing on Kinn’s chest.

“Gorgeous,” Kinn whispers, none of the earlier harshness in his tone. Now he sounds like he’s in awe of Porsche.

As soon as he has the ability too, Porsche looks up at Kinn and he’s struck by the look on Kinn’s face.

It’s reverence.

Porsche sucks in a deep breath before kissing Kinn, unable to come up with a better response. Again his back hits the ground and Kinn leans over him. Kinn grabs his leg, hiking it up so he can grind against Porsche’s thigh.

Oh fuck.

Porsche can feel exactly how big Kinn is now that the fog of arousal has dissipated somewhat. Porsche thought cocks like that were only in porn, but he can feel exactly how much Kinn has to work with and it’s intimidating.

Kinn grunts and rolls his hips in another slow grind. It presses the full length of his cock against Porsche’s leg and now all Porsche can imagine is what that would feel like inside of him. His mind slips for a second, trying to predict what the stretch would feel like, how full he would be.

“Kinn.”

A grunt is the only response Porsche gets, but it’s like whatever was holding his tongue back earlier is gone.

“Come on,” he encourages Kinn, getting the alpha’s attention as soon as he speaks. “That’s it, big guy. Show me how you’d fuck me.”

The words spill from Porsche without a thought. He can see the way they’re driving Kinn mad, and he revels in the power to turn that back on the alpha.

Encouraged, he continues, “Fuck, you’re big. I bet you’d fill me up perfectly.”

Kinn groans, putting his head down and rutting against Porsche’s thigh harder.

“You’d like that, huh?” Porsche teases.

Kinn nods, but his words have failed him.

Porsche doubles down, taunting Kinn in his own way.

“Then why don’t you prove how well you’d do it.”

Kinn growls just as ferociously as he did when he was feral and his hips piston against the crook of Porsche’s thigh, his enthusiasm ruining his control. He’s a wreck and he trembles as he’s overwhelmed by his orgasm, panting out Porsche’s name.

Porsche clings to the trembling man and pulls Kinn down to rest on top of him. It forces some of the air from his lungs but he likes the feeling of Kinn pressing in close.

They linger there for a bit, each of them basking in the afterglow. Porsche trails his fingers up and down Kinn’s back even after the other man slumps to the side, taking some of his weight off Porsche.

Kinn buries his face in the side of Porsche’s neck, his breath huffing over the sensitive skin there.

“So my mother hired you?” Kinn asks.

Porsche sneaks a hand up and snags one of the silly little throw pillows and wiggles until it’s under his head. The carpet is nice, but still firmer than he wants for this conversation.

“Yeah, she did.”

“I suppose we will have to give you a glowing review.”

Porsche pinches Kinn’s side, and the alpha nips his skin in response. Asshole.

“I would expect nothing less,” Porsche replies. He barely suppresses a shudder when Kinn scrapes his teeth on Porsche’s neck. “How’d you end up going feral anyway?”

Kinn huffs but replies, “You weren’t informed beforehand?”

Porsche shrugs. “Briefly that something happened with your brother, but your parents were worried enough to not go into details.”

Kinn’s hand sneaks under Porsche’s shirt and his palm lays heavy and warm across Porsche’s lower belly. It’s both soothing and a tease given what they were just up to.

“We were at an event,” Kinn explains, his voice soft and soothing. “Khun’s been going to more of those.”

To encourage him, Porsche threads his fingers through Kinn’s hair, remembering how much Kinn enjoyed it earlier.

“Which is of course why everything had to go to shit,” Kinn mutters darkly.

Porsche hums low and questioningly.

“Tankhun wanted to go home early. He still struggles at the long events. Someone tried to attack him.” 

Kinn sounds like he’s forcing himself to say the words and Porsche can feel how much he’s tensed up. He’s not slipping though, so speaking about it is helping.

“But he’s alright,” Porsche reminds the other alpha. “I saw him when I arrived.”

Those words help to deflate Kinn somewhat.

“Yeah,” Kinn murmurs. “I put some of my guards on him. They kept him safe but I was notified and…”

Porsche picks up where Kinn trailed off, “It was like being back seven years ago.”

Kinn hums in agreement.

They both chew on that information for a while. It’s beginning to be uncomfortable on the floor and in his wet briefs. Porsche frowns and squirms which makes Kinn sit up.

“Come on,” Kinn says, offering him a hand after he stands. “I’ll give you a change of clothes while we talk about all this.” He gestures to them both with his other hand.

Probably a good idea and Porsche would rather not have to go home in his current underwear.

“I’m not really sure what there is to talk about,” Porsche mutters as he puts the little pillow back on the couch and follows Kinn.

“Is this normal?” Kinn asks him with a raised brow.

“No,” Porsche replies.

“So you don’t usually end up dry-humping your clients?” Kinn continues to tease.

“No,” Porsche sasses back. “This was…” Porsche pauses to take in the view from Kinn’s bedroom. Damn. “Different.”

He hears a drawer behind him, but Porsche is still staring, taking in the view of Bangkok.

“Do you want to stay in those?”

Porsche whips around and Kinn nods to his pants. Porsche looks down. His jeans are fine but the underwear is deeply unpleasant. He strips the pants quickly, hoping to preserve them, and gives them a quick look over. 

Kinn makes an odd choking noise but Porsche ignores him

His pants seem fine.

Porsche looks up and Kinn is staring.

“What?” Porsche asks, slightly defensive.

He looks down at his underwear, wondering what Kinn’s so caught up on.

“I’m not sure I have anything that tight,” Kinn replies, eyes still locked on Porsche.

Porsche puts his hand on his hip and shoots Kinn a look. “Just toss me a clean pair, you dick.”

With effort, Kinn stops staring and grabs a black slip of fabric before tossing it to Porsche.

“Pervert,” Porsche mutters.

“I’m not the one walking around in those,” Kinn shoots back. “They were practically see-through even before you came in them.”

A blush creeps over Porsche’s cheeks at Kinn’s words, not from shame but at the sound of Kinn’s voice dipping low in desire. Moving quickly, Porsche tugs his ruined pair down, mopping as much of the mess up as he can before tugging Kinn’s on.

They fit just fine.

He turns to grab his pants where he’d tossed them on the bed and Kinn lets out a groan that Porsche is now intimately familiar with. Tugging his pants on with a little hop, Porsche shoots Kinn a raunchy little wink over his shoulder.

The move backfires cause he catches Kinn mid-change and gets an eyeful of everything he felt earlier. Fuck, Kinn’s that big soft? Porsche turns away and pats his cheeks, trying to get the color to go down.

He doesn’t succeed.

Hands on his hips distract him as Kinn turns him around.

“You should keep those,” Kinn says.

Porsche tips his head to the side, batting his lashes. “You don’t want me to bring them back later?”

Kinn freezes, like he’s a rebooting computer and Porsche grins widely.

“Ah,” Kinn says, as if just having an epiphany. “Yes, of course I would need those back.”

“Mmhmm,” Porsche says, fighting back chuckles.

Instead of replying, Kinn leans down and kisses him. Then he smacks Porsche’s ass.

“Hey!” Porsche protests, though there’s no heat in it.

Near his bed, Kinn’s phone rings and he grabs it. “Damn,” Kinn mutters.

“What?” Porsche asks.

“It’s eight in the morning.”

“Oh fuck!”

Porsche can’t believe so much time has passed. He’s sure that Sirikit set Chay up, but it doesn’t feel like he’s missed a night of sleep. He shares a moment with Kinn, both of them acknowledging how weird this has been.

“I suppose we should head down and tell your parents everything is fine.”

Kinn nods and then pauses before holding his hand out to Porsche. As soon as their hands touch, Kinn tangles their fingers together and something inside Porsche settles, a calm descending in its wake.

______________________

When Porsche and Kinn step into the sunroom they absolutely reek of each other. Chay has to scrunch up his nose and beside him, Tankhun, just barely awake, fans his hand in front of his face.

Sirikit, despite her usually unflappable appearance, is surprised and shows it.

“Mama,” Kinn greets. “Khun.”

“It’s good to see you’re alright,” Sirikit says, words slightly halting.

“Yes, fine,” Kinn agrees.

“And did you leave him in one piece?” Tankhun asks, slyly.

Chay snickers behind his teacup and Porsche glares at him.

“Porsche is fine,” Kinn grits back. “He was a great help grounding me.”

“Yes, we can see that,” Sirikit replies.

Now Chay knows where Khun got it from. He gives in to the giggles.

“We appreciate your help, Porsche,” Sirikit says, clearly choosing to be the voice of reason in the room.

“Of course,” Porsche says, waving her off. Chay can tell his brother is uncomfortable with the scrutiny but he doesn’t step away from Kinn. Hmmm, that’s interesting.

“Is there anything else that we should know? Is there a risk of relapse?” she asks.

“Uh,” Porsche turns to Kinn. “Probably not?”

Oh. Chay can see it plain as day on his brother’s face. Porsche hasn’t ever looked at someone the way he’s looking at Kinn now. It lights Porsche up and Chay decides right then that he’s not letting Porsche walk away from that.

Sirikit arches a brow at Porsche’s response, but Chay jumps on the opportunity to help Porsche.

“Perhaps it would be good for us to come back in a few days to be sure?”

Porsche turns to him and Chay can see that he’s instantly won back all good grace after the snickers.

“For a check-up?” Kinn asks.

“Yes, exactly,” Chay answers.

Porsche and Kinn make eye contact and everyone in the room has to smoother their reaction, not buying this excuse for a moment. It’s cute, and if that’s what they need, then Chay is fine with giving them an excuse.

“Perhaps next time you could join us for dinner?” Sirikit prompts.

Porsche blushes but nods his head. Chay sips his tea in satisfaction and clinks his cup with Tankhun’s when the other man offers his rim up in victory. Chay’s job here is done.