Chapter Text
The address he’d been given was a long abandoned warehouse, with a sagging roof clad in rusting corrugated metal and its walls a pockmarked and dusty concrete. The absence of graffiti told him it was still under guard regardless of its disrepair, which had to mean someone was paying to have a private place to conduct…business.
He’d parked down the road and jumped the fence, and now he crouched behind a stack of two by fours, watching the place. In the ten minutes he’d been there, he’d seen two guards, passing twice. So they were circling, but there were only two. However they were out of synch, one of them always dragging his feet, leaving three quarters of the building out of view rather than keeping each half in sight at all times. He smirked in satisfaction, timed the slow one and in a bounding run and a jump, he then slithered through a small window. Pulling his feet in, he knew it had been close but he shouldn’t have been seen.
Inside, he stayed low, surveying his surroundings. He was on a catwalk that stretched the long side of the building, but old machinery and tall metal shelves clearly meant for forklifts made it hard to get an overview. Still, he could see doors open in welcome on the short end to the right. He was expected, after all, and he’d answered the summons. He just wouldn’t come from that direction. At least not unless he knew what waited within.
If he had been in charge, he would have stationed guards at the four corners of the building and then at four points around the “guest” but he didn’t see anyone towards the back. Sloppy, or cocky. Peering ahead, he bargained with himself. Staying on the catwalk would give him more oversight but it also meant he’d be more vulnerable - there was no cover up here. People rarely looked up, but on guard for the slightest movements, the chances of discovery were higher. Playing it safer, he ducked through a latch in the floor, soundlessly dropping to the floor. Waiting a moment to see if anyone had heard or seen, the place remained still.
Creeping forward, pausing behind two empty metal barrels, he peered through the gap. A slash of recognition whipped through him when he spotted Porchay. He was dozing it looked like, resting against some crates. Drugged, he noted even from the distance and curled his hands into fists at his sides. The crescent shapes digging into his palm helped him stop himself from just dashing in, fear turning him careless.
A pair of long legs entered his field of vision, and he would have recognised Vegas from the shirt alone. It shone. His cousin crouched in front of Porchay, tilted his head up with the barrel of his gun and Kim froze. The black outline against Chay’s vulnerable throat made him want to throw up, to scream in feral, visceral fear.
“I just don’t understand what my cousin sees in you.” Vegas spoke, his voice as silky as his shirt. “You’re a pretty thing, sure, but there are many pretty things on offer to the Theerapanyakuns. What’s special about you? I’m told you’re an average student, an average musician, an average eighteen-year-old. How could you of all people bring my cousin to his knees?” His voice slid through Kim’s blood like a reptile’s skin, cold and smooth. “I just don’t understand.”
To his relief, Vegas got back to his feet. “But never mind. I don’t have to know why, not when I know you’re the leash I need to yank on for Kim to come running.”
Kim hadn’t made a move but Vegas’ head cocked, his entire body tensing. “Oh, Bambi, I think we have company.”
Readying to fight, Kim got ready to spring to his feet. But Vegas turned towards the door. Kim’s decoys were early. In the doorway the outlines were blurred by the bright sunlight but he didn’t have to stay to see them. He knew it was Kinn, Porsche, Big, Arm and Pete. A shot rung out and sang as it hit the metal shelf.
As Vegas swore and his guards drew up around him, Kim rolled out from behind the cover. Crouched, he set his sights on the two guards who were flanking Porchay. With their eyes still on the louder, more immediate danger, he managed to rugby tackle the first one to the ground, slamming his head to the concrete floor before he had time to shout or raise his gun. Rolling, away, the shot splintered the ground where his leg had just been before the big man realized he’d never hit the target at such a short distance. Dropping the gun, he lounged for Kim, who was already back on his feet. Dancing out of the way, the bigger man lumbering after, he launched his elbow into his face. Too slow to see it, the guard’s head snapped back and instinctively his hands rose to stem the blood from his nose. Kim took his chance, landing the punch in his unprotected middle and with a groan the guard fell to his knees, doubling over. A swift kick over his ear and he fell like a log.
“Stop.”
Vegas had shouted to be heard but his voice still didn’t give a sense of urgency, the chilly calm enough to make him look back. He froze, because Vegas’ gun was trained on Porchay’s head. In his focus to take the guards out, he hadn’t noticed his cousin swinging around, how he now held Chay in the sight.
“One step closer and I finish him.”
They all stilled, the main family and their guards lowering their guns. Porsche was being held back bodily by Kinn, and nothing could be heard other than strained breathing.
A low chuckle escaped Vegas. “So protective of your little pet. All I wanted was Kim, but now I get a three for one deal.”
“What do you think will happen, Vegas? If you kill one of us,” Kinn called.
“He’s not one of you. He’s your bodyguard’s younger brother and the youngest brother’s current distraction.”
While his eyes had flicked to Kinn, Kim stepped to the side. He was now fully blocking Vegas’ line of sight to Porchay.
“But you can’t kill me without the family knowing,” Kim spoke low. “Are you prepared for full on war?”
“If your father finds out what you know, the war will happen anyway. This way I can clear the board for a checkmate early.”
“So you cooked the books, withheld money. What’s that compared to killing one of the main family’s heirs?”
“Do you think I brought you here to parley? I used the one thing I knew for certain would make you come running like a bitch in heat. Him. I saw it in your eyes in the record room, in how you were already I have a job to do, dear cousin, and killing you is one part of it. I can’t say it won’t be bittersweet, I’ve always liked you better than the others, but…what’s that saying?” He switched into English. “ All is fair in love and war ? Seems to me we’ve got both here.”
“Shoot me, and Kinn will shoot you before you have time to crook a hair on Porchay’s head.”
“Is it really worth it, cousin? Laying down your life for some common high schooler? You could do so much better.”
“No,” Kim answered quietly. “No, I could never do better. He’s the best of all of us, and we will all die before you get close to him.”
“Really? Because it was frightfully easy to get close. Your men are sloppy, cousin. Breaking in through the back door and leaving the lock broken without telling you? And you didn’t even notice. He’s blinded you. Left you exposed. You saw nothing but him and his pretty smile. I even watched you leave the house this morning like you owned it, so sure you had it all under control. But you didn’t. He’s. Made. You. Weak.” Vegas hissed the last words.
“No,” Kim shook his head. “He’s made me stronger than I’ve ever been. He’s given me something worth fighting for. Something more than a name and petty rivalry. If I die here, for him, I’d go happy. You say he’s changed me - he has. But what you don’t see is that he’s changed me for the better. I don’t think you could ever understand how. But for the first time in my life, I care for someone more than anything else and it feels good. It’s terrifying, poorly timed, and for someone who doesn’t belong with me, but I’ll always be grateful I got to feel it. So take your shot or don’t, Vegas, but don’t tell me what I’ve become is worse than what I used to be.”
The projectile hit Vegas in the shoulder, the sound of the shot resounding a moment later. Porsche had used Kim’s distraction, felling the guard behind him and using the man’s gun to shoot as he fell. It had been off aim, but it served its purpose. In a moment, the standoff was over, and shots rang out, a deadly rain starting. Without thinking, Kim dropped and rolled so his body covered Porchay’s.
“Chay!” He called and the younger man struggled to open his eyes. A tiny flutter of a smile crossed his features.
“P’Kim,” he mumbled.
“I’m here. I’m here, Porchay. We need to go. We need to go right now. Can you stand?”
“I’m…’m fine.”
The words were belayed by the weak moves, the sluggish tone. Working his arm under his, Kim took on most of their combined weight, getting them to their feet. With the hand not supporting him, he pulled the gun from his waistband, zeroing in on the guard who’d escaped Pol’s pin. Training from the back of his mind kicked in, and he hit the man’s gun arm, the blood spraying from the entry, the force of it spinning him around. The guard fell to his knees cradling his elbow, the gun clattering uselessly to the ground. Steering Porchay past, he swung his aim wide, and managed another hit in the back of the knee to the man fighting Kinn. A moment later he could turn the corner out the door and count at least one side covered. Sticking close to the wall, Porchay was stumbling, almost pulling them both to the ground. Dragging him on, Kim clenched his teeth, waiting to hear the ricochet of a bullet or feel its impact burrowing into his body. But by the time the sounds of fighting subsided, he spotted it was Vegas’ men who ran from the door. Allowing Porchay to sink down against the wall, he crouched in front of him.
“Are you okay? Is anything hurting?”
He had two ugly bruises, one on each arm from a forceful hold and Kim had to swallow back the impotent rage, the need to return into the room and beat whoever had put those marks on him until there was nothing left. Sink his ire through his fists into the impact against flesh.
“I’m…fine. You…you’re bleeding, P’Kim.”
Looking down, he saw blood had bloomed down the side of the shirt, making it stick to his body. Lifting the hem, he saw it was little more than a graze, a stray bullet must have caught him in the storm of it.
“It’s fine. It’s nothing.”
He dropped the shirt back, ran his hands from Porchay’s face to his neck, his shoulders, down his arms. Wanting to make sure he was all there, all whole.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Porchay, I thought they’d come for me. I should’ve known better.”
“But they…” Porchay pushed himself higher, sitting a little straighter against the wall. Some of the dullness in his eyes was lifting, clearing. “They picked me because…” He was struggling to form the words. “Because you…”
“They picked you because they knew I’d come for you. They’d seen I care for you. I told you, Porchay, if I ever allowed myself to show it, you’d be in danger. But I got careless.”
“I…” Porchay pulled his knees higher, wrapped an arm around them. “I heard you. What you told Vegas. Is it true?”
A tired chuckle escaped him. He sat back down on his heels, ran a hand through his hair. “I guess there’s not much point in denying it now. I wasn’t lying, Porchay. I was telling him the truth.”
“But… you never told me.”
“Because you wouldn’t be safe if I did. No one could know. Porchay, I’ve walked through my life wanting to feel, searching for something. I thought it was boredom, that the more outlandish the idea, the better I’d feel. Or at least that I'd feel. I’ve drunk, I’ve done drugs, I’ve fought, I’ve fucked, always searching for the thing that would make me…That would make me feel like I belonged, like I was in the right place. I thought I could find it myself but then you came into my life and showed me it wasn’t an experience, or a moment's relief. It was a person. You became the road I wanted to follow, the sensation I wanted to feel and it terrified me. If anyone around me knew I’d cross hell for you, they’d not only have me, they’d use you. I couldn’t allow it. So I tried, Porchay. I tried so hard to shut myself out, keep you at arm’s length but…” he looked up, the smile slanted. “You’re kind of undeniable.”
“P’Kim…” Porchay’s voice was weak, the question trembling around the edges.
“I know I’ve hurt you. Over and over. I know I don’t deserve you. I know we don’t belong in each other’s worlds. But Porchay, I’m so tired. So tired of denying how I feel. I love you. So I’ll take you home, and at least you’ll know that was always true.”
He dropped his head, the relief mixing with the dread. This was goodbye, when Porchay would finally be rid of him and the shadow he’d thrown over his world.
Then dirty hands cupped his face, tipped his head and he met Porchay’s eyes smiling at him. “I love you too, P’Kim.”
The words weren’t connecting, his brain sunk into fog and he blinked.
“You did hurt me, but you’ve also saved me, again and again, taken care of me, helped me. I know you’re a good man, despite everything around you trying to make you different. I’m already in your world, and I’m not going to leave you alone in it. So please take me with you because if I’m your road, then you’re mine and I’ll follow you wherever it leads.”
Inside him, the two worlds he’d imagined them coming from crashed together in an explosion, debris raining down around him. As his past burned, he reached out and with a stifled sob, he pulled Porchay close and kissed him. Easily, because that was how he always gave, Chay wrapped his arms around him and returned the kiss. It was too hard, too desperate to leave any room for skill, their teeth clacked and both winced at the impact but it was a promise sealed and as such it seared into Kim’s chest, left Porchay branded into his soul. He tasted salt and didn’t know if it was sweat or tears, if they were his or Chay’s. All that mattered was that he held him close enough to let their molecules link, to turn the two worlds into one as what had been sunk back into a silent vacuum, the supernova exploding into a new universe. In his mind the stars were born, blinking to life, and Porchay took his place as the center, his sun and his light.
Epilogue
One Month Later
Kim looked out over the dim bar, the fluttering little flames of tea lights on the tables casting eerie shadows over the audience’s faces, making it look like he was playing to an assembly of ghosts. They could as well have been, as the only face he wanted to see was in the back, clearer than the others as his memory filled in the details. The bangs that were getting slightly too long, the eyes that picked up a note of amber like his favorite whiskey in candle light, the glow to his skin and the deepened shadow of his dimples when he smiled. He was sitting comfortably, leaning against the wall, a half-smile already on his face.
Silence reigned in the room, the kind where the quiet was never more compact than the pregnant pause of people waiting. His breath amplified through the microphone, like he was bringing them all into his world, into his life.
“This song is for Porchay.”
Strumming the first chord, he glanced up to see the younger man had straightened, surprise easily seen even in the half-light. Picking up the lyrics, he hooked his gaze with his own, let the emotions he saw there guide the melody and the words, the sound streaming from his soul, warm and weightless as sunlight.
“Your face is a melody, your soul is a song
I knew you before I met you,
knew we were apart
Just like music, you take me to where I belong
Your fingers play the strings of my heart,
You set them playing to the cadence of your voice
I want to tell you
but I don’t know how to start
How can you know I chose you,
before it was even a choice?
I was walking forever,
trying to answer the question, “Who?”
I looked up, there you were,
and all I felt was, “It’s you.””
o.O.o
Porchay blinked, the obstruction in his throat growing, his breaths trapped. His heart was thundering, beating in a double time staccato unmatched to the slow, gentle melody. The chords strummed in his blood, Kim’s voice honeyed velvet, wrapping around him. He couldn’t look away as his eyes bored into his, every word finding its way to etch into his heart.
“I tried to fight it, I did
I lost and lost again
You found me anywhere that I hid
Until the only question left was “When”?
But how can I ever regret having you here
If losing means holding you close
Then let me keep you near
And know defeat is what I chose
I was walking forever,
trying to answer the question, “Who?”
I looked up, there you were,
and all I felt was, “It’s you.””
The last chord faded, the audience still breathless, held under Kim’s spell. Still leaning into the microphone, he smiled softly and spoke.
“I love you, Porchay.”