Chapter Text
“Quando il gioco é finito, il re e il pedone vanno nella stessa scatola”
Once the game is over, the King and the Pawn will go back in the same box
The room is filled with smoke and husk but it does not bother either of them. For some reason, in this moment, it is the one thing that eases their breathing and mind. Maybe because it makes them think of something— someone— else; guiltily thinking of each other.
Pete has one rule in his life regarding his affairs, relationships and such, that he will only kiss the people or person he truly likes. Kissing is the most intimate act in an emotional and-or sexual interaction that can leave a deeper mark compared to any bruises or love bites left in the skin, in his opinion. The fact that he just kissed and made out with Kinn has completely messed up his mind. Because he doesn't want to admit it but it felt way more better than he daydreamed.
Before Vegas, there was Kinn and other people. He knows that for Kinn there are only three periods: before and after Tay, before and after Tawan, and the before and now with Porsche. Pete doesn't know if this, whatever that just happened between them, will count as some sort of an impactful chapter in their arc. Well, for sure it is for Pete, but will it be for Kinn too?
A groan slips out of his lips when he sits up, using the recharged strength of his arms. "I have to clean up."
Kinn looked at him and smoothly replied, "I'll help you", and then puffing one last whiff of smoke before putting it on the ask tray on the coffee table.
He is about to decline, because of workplace principles, but he knows Kinn will not accept his reason to decline.
"But if you think you don't need my help, it's also fine."
Whoa…. How can he still decline with the soft way Kinn looks and waits for his answer. To see this side of Kinn, Pete understands how many people can easily like or fall for Kinn. Although, this makes him wonder, how can they still choose someone else over him.
He shyly nods, eyes averting to the ground. "S—sure."
"Really? Are you sure?" Kinn looks at him with genuine surprise with a sprinkle of glee.
"You're the one who offered," Pete lightly chuckles. "It'll be rude if I decline just because I feel shy, as if you haven't seen…everything."
"Alright." Kinn's soft voice resonates like a shout echoing in the cave of Pete's mind and chest.
Fuck
Kinn stands up first then offers his hand for Pete to take. “Can you stand?” He jokes with a smirk, earning a scoff from the other. “Just asking,” he says, raising his hands as if he is innocent of any of the reasons why Pete’s legs shake on the attempt of standing up.
He waits for Pete to accept his hand before putting Pete’s hand on his shoulder. “I’ll carry you,” he says and then bends a little to hook his arm under Pete's crossed legs and his other arm under Pete's torso.
Pete can only let Kinn lift him off of the couch. He tightens his arms around Kinn's shoulder, almost hugging him, and he keeps his legs crossed, hiding his thing . There's an evident feeling of a line of liquid about to drip from his lower area, which makes him blush. His ears are turning red on the fact that he is being carried by his boss while there is semen crawling from his hole to his inner thighs. He shuts his eyes tightly as he attempts his best to clench his hole to prevent anything from coming out. It is disgusting, from a hygiene perspective, but, admittedly in situations like this, it's kinda hot.
Once they reach the bathroom, Kinn gently sets Pete down on the sink counter. Kinn turns around, only to see a toilet bowl and a small bathtub with a shower. He walks in to see if there is a setting for warm water. There is, thankfully.
A smile forms on Kinn's lips but it then quickly falls down because of the swift reappearance of the familiar sweet tangerine scent. It is making him swallow the heavy feeling of heartache and guilt deeply . He knows he has stepped on the line he swore to forget. But here he is, here they are, what is done is done.
“Um, I know this is…” his voice trails as he vaguely gestures his hands to the shower, “but, um, would you want me to help you wash up? I—I mean, if, if you need me to, but it’s okay if you don’t.”
Pete bites his lower lip, thinking through the offer. Kinn is giving him a chance to decline. He can decline. He should decline.
“I’m okay,” he replies, lifting his head to meet Kinn’s soft eyes. Those soft eyes . Seeing this side of Kinn feels like you won in the lottery. A mafia boss showing his human— soft —side is very rare, as some, or maybe most, have already buried that side of them.
It also feels so clandestine, like they are trying to make out most of the remaining grains of sand in the hourglass of their affair. If this is even an affair, because if by definition it is, but circumstantially it is more likely to be just two people relieving stress and looking for a good distraction.
“I—I have to clean my…my, you know,” Pete points his eyes on his lower region, then he points his eyes back up to Kinn, “first.” Thankfully, Kinn gets it right away.
"Oh, alright, them, ah, I'll just prepare the water."
Unspoken but, just like what the famous saying says, their actions spoke louder than they thought. Kinn's back is tense while his hands fumble on the faucet, checking if the water is just right; Pete is…folding his lips inwards as he contemplates if he should ask his boss to step outside while he cleans himself or just leave him be.
Pete cautiously lifts his right leg, uncrossing his legs. His manhood sits limp, which makes him feel a bit awkward on spreading his legs wider as he bends to peek at the area he needs to clean. Alright, to be fair, when they were done and had calmed down from their highs, neither of them thought of cleaning each other or themselves. They’re too lost to think, but, in consideration, Kinn still managed to cover Pete with the knitted afghan first, and then slip back on his boxers.
He uses his right hand to reach over his hole, touching the ring of muscles that is still a little red from the rough intrusion. It definitely got seared, so there was a sting when he dipped a finger in. Another hiss got blocked by the way his teeth clenched shut. Not only is it caused by the physical jolt, but the memories that get played back in mind. The feeling of strong, skillful fingers working, stimulating him through his most sensitive inside.
It has been a long time since he touched himself down there. Every second that is passing with each push and drag of his finger in his walls, pulling out as much semen he can manage. When he tries to reach deeper, it is too late for him to bite back the groan, and then there is heat forming in his gut. Seems like the blood is flowing down south.
An experimental intrusion of another finger and deeper push inside have caused a hand to fail in covering a whimpered moan that echoes on the walls.
On the other corner of the room, Kinn keeps his mind to focus on the right temperature of the water from the showerhead and from the faucet. The temperature has been just right since many minutes ago but this is the best option to keep his mind away from hearing the muffled sounds walking on the four walls. He was about to ask if Pete would like to take a shower or a bath when that surprising sound interrupted him.
Forgetting his initial question, Kinn slowly turns his head to glance at Pete from his shoulder. Shit, I should step out, his mind says immediately after catching Pete’s face.
He's seen that kind of expression before. From Porsche, from Tawan, from his boy toys. However—Pete is so many things, doing so many things in his mind.
There's a line he knows he should not cross, still he cannot stop to want to step on the line, to walk on the land he knows that will never be his.
Hence, a line is crossed.
“Do you need a hand?” his voice came out like a growl of a lion approaching a prey.
With a deep slow inhale, one word gave him permission to enter the territory. “Yes,” Pete answers in a sultry whisper followed by a hard swallow of a whimper as the tip of his fingers grazes on the right spot.
Heavy footsteps struts across the small field as two piercing eyes meet. A rough paw gently leaves a trail of burning touch from the knee into the inner thigh of the hiked up leg on the edge of the counter.
Pete feels pinned, pressed, and trapped by the stare, palm, and scent of the man he looked up to, respected, and has had attraction and interest on for the years he has been a part of this family. His heart has been beating for someone, but in this moment his mind and body craves for someone else.
Kinn is…well, Kinn is less conflicted than a moment ago. When he smelled the familiar scent from the shower, there's guilt, but right now he feels nothing more than the satisfying feeling of finally getting to cross the line without thinking too much of the consequences. Not now yet at least, but he knows he will, because this is not going to be just a memory. It will be a dream becoming carved in his mind to become a reminder.
He hovers his palm over the heat of Pete's hand, then graxes his fingers on the fingers that are buried deep. Instead of pushing in, he traces the ring, teasingly eliciting more sounds from the mouth that is fanning hot, ragged airs on him. His eyes travel from Pete's face, neck, chest, stomach, and privates, studying all the marks he left and the areas he would love to leave more on. When his eyes flit back up to Pete's, without any hesitation he slowly puts one digit in, earning another sultry sound.
Pete is about to pull out his finger but Kinn stops him.
“Don’t,” Kinn says, voice as deep as how much he has he is reaching inside Pete.
Taking him in surprise, a smug smirk sketches itself on Pete’s lips. “I want yours more.”
And with that being bluntly said, Pete pulls out his and then cups it to pull Kinn by the cheek closer. Pete eyes on Kinn’s lower lip before tracing it with his thumb. Both his pointer and middle wetting Kinn’s cheek; neither of them bother to think about it. He leans forward, dragging out his tongue to teasingly licking a strip on Kinn’s lips. Kinn lets out a breath that has been caught in his throat since the blunt honesty Pete showed, the same time he adds another and another, stretching the ring of muscles and making Pete’s mouth fall open to extract a louder whimper.
Kinn reaches with his other hand for Pete’s other hand, and then pins it above Pete’s head on the mirror. Said mirror has faint clouds of fog appearing and disappearing, following how Pete’s back heaves. Pete holds onto the back of Kinn’s head while he hikes his other leg on Kinn’s small waist. He is fascinated on how Kinn’s hair can stay soft even after and during all of this. Maybe he has developed a liking (addictive liking) on his boss’ hair.
As Kinn continues to push his fingers in and pull out the remaining of his semen that reached a deeper part, Pete also continues to play tugs-and-caresses with Kinn's hair. There is more pain being inflicted on his wrist than inside of him. But he likes it.
Pete yelps when Kinn aggressively shoves back inside, hitting the bundle of nerves, making him pull Kinn's hair too aggressively also. He squirms while the man caging him in the mirror groans along with him.
Kinn's jaw unhinge itself for his canine to graze on the bolded sternocleidomastoid of Pete's neck. He moves his jaw up and down then up again before imprinting a sharp bite on the top end of the said neck muscle. Was about to leave a kiss on it, like placing a cherry on an ice cream, but a hand gripped his hair to pull his face away. Both a tongue and a mouth eat the pained groan from him.
Pete's tug on Kinn's hair tightens as well as Kinn's grip on his wrist. They're both groaning because of the pain they are inflicting on each other, and so does the heated pleasure coiling up in their mouths and cocks. Pete has his standing on his stomach, dripping precum, and Kinn has his straining a hill in his boxers.
Their mouths meet, too rash, too aggressive, both too eager to dominate each other. If you thought that power play isn't also a thing these two have in their little list of secrets, oh well…
"Hmmph!" Kinn yelps, pressing a deep kiss before pulling away. He tastes blood, not from his lips but from the tip of his tongue. It stings, sure. It is also arousing.
"Oops," the other playfully says with a shit-eating grin. "I thought that was your lips," he adds, then bites his lower lip first before opening his mouth again. He leans, darting his tongue out to taste a red bead of blood on the tip of Kinn's.
Maybe they like the idea of discovering things about themselves and each other. Even with their lust filled judgements, they will remember this.
When they detached their mouths, Kinn places his forehead on top of Pete's as he thrusts his fingers faster, brutally stimulating the spot. He glues his eyes on Pete while also untangling his hand from Pete's wrist just so to intertwine their fingers in a tight lace.
Under the strong pinning gaze, as the said man presses harder, just like how he pressed the wounds, Pete came. He clings his whole body on Kinn as he moans, almost with an unidentifiable word or name. His fingertips now pull crescents on Kinn's scalp, while his cock squirts the remaining drops of his semen on their stomach.
That has been the most intense orgasm he ever went through; based on the records of his sexual encounters that does not involve any cock penetration.
After Pete came for the second—or third?—time, silence fell between them again. Just their heavy breathing, chest rising and falling with their shoulders, eyes hooded, and their skins glistening under the dim light. Their hands are still intertwined in the mirror.
“Are you okay?” Kinn asks, still wanting to check on Pete. He pulls his fingers as gently as he can.
Pete manages to smile, a sweet, sweet smile. “I’m okay. I think I should be the one to ask you if you’re okay. Do…do you need, ah, you know, a hand?” He takes a quick glance down on Kinn’s ‘problem’.
There is no reply. Until there was a shaky breath.
Kinn closes his eyes as he buries his face on the crook of Pete’s neck and wraps his arm around him, pulling him close. Pete does not know whether to do the same—not that he hasn't been doing it too all along. Though when he hears a muffled sob, his shoulders stiffen.
“Promise me, please, promise me, Pete, you will stay by my side." He manages to say even if his voice has started to shake. "Promise me.”
Kinn helps Pete in the bathtub to wash, and then to put on clothes. They worked in silence. He didn't wash up, just put his clothes back on, tucking his shirt in his pants to make himself look decent. It's not that he didn't want to, but it's because he doesn't think he can stay there anymore. Not because of the stronger presence of the tangerine scent, not because the sight of Pete makes his stomach twist, and not because he doesn't think he will be able to leave if he stayed a second longer.
After putting his shoes on, he turns to him in jest to leave a feather kiss on the forehead that weighs heavier than the bruise on Pete's wrist.
When the door closed, a body fell on its knees.
.
.
.
If it isn't love, tell me why do we hurt so good together?
~~~~~~~
He should've known better than expecting a promise like that to be kept. He knew he wasn't the first to ask for such a promise to be granted a word of honor and commitment. He knew, so why did he feel so defeated, standing by the elevator of the hospital.
A bell chimes as the metal doors slide open.
"Pete."
"Khun Kinn? What are you doing here?" He steps out, genuinely surprised to see his boss—technically, ex boss —standing there.
Kinn manages to put up a small smile. “I would like to speak with you—“ I need to talk to you “—about something.”
They decided that the fire exit is the best place for them to talk. Since, under the current situation, any member of the major family is prohibited to communicate with any member or anyone associated with the minor family. There is another reason why, but it does not need to be verbally said.
Kinn stands by a wall. Pete does it too but on the opposite wall.
" 'Two poisoned hearts that happen to be each other's antidote' , I finally understood who you meant. It wasn't me and you. It's you and him."
Pete didn't utter a word, keeping his eyes glued on his feet. It's better this way.
"I'm happy you found yours. Please take care of Vegas. The love and family that you will give him is what he's been dreaming of and deserves."
No reply.
"You can visit the house, or Porsche or Tankhun and Kim any time. You're welcome to visit…" to come back "... Tankhun, Kim and Porsche miss you." I miss you too .
"Thank you, Khun Kinn. I'll try to visit one day."
"Goodbye, Pete." The first time Kinn has ever said it verbally.
"Goodbye, Khun Kinn." The third time Pete said it, and the second time he said it verbally.
Before Kinn turns around to walk out of the fire exit, he closes his eyes like he is about to pray.
"Pete," the first time he had the name roll on his tongue since.
There's an unspoken change in the way their chests slowly rise and fall, and for their shoulders tense.
"Kinn," the first time Pete has addressed him by his name.
"Have you heard of ' We can't have what we love, but we love what he can't have'?"
Pete is a master of restraint, so does repressive facial emotional reaction; he's good at keeping a blank face. Kinn knows what Pete's answer is, regardless if there were words used or none.
"I think that is what we are."
With that, he stepped back and walked out of the door. A single tear freeing itself from the eyes that stayed cold for too long that is finally melted.