Chapter Text
Lo inizio
~~~~~~
It is still shocking; imagine the love of your life sleeping in your arms last night and by the morning, they're nowhere to be found. There are so many questions bombarding Kinn's mind since this morning when he woke up with only the lingering scent and fading heat of Porsche’s side of the bed.
He tries to forget the factors and hold onto the trust he has to Porsche for the possible explanation of the sudden disappearance. There's gotta be an explanation to all that is happening. What makes the whole situation worse, than how it is starting to turn into, is the fact that his father is the only one who can make things a bit clearer for him. But, apparently so and always have been, he cannot fully trust his own father about anything, especially anything about their whole family.
There is obviously nothing in his room that can help to ease his mind as in every corner, every wall, every room there are fragments of Porsche that agitates him. Porsche's sweet homey scent that lingers in the air. These all make him miss Porsche more, even if it only has been seventeen hours since he last saw him.
No amount of the strongest alcohol available in his cabinet has succeeded in making his mind get clouded to sleep, to forget, to disassociate himself in everything. If alcohol can't, then maybe his other mechanisms can, even just a little.
Kinn goes down to the training floor, where no one else is at the hour, which is good because he still needs the isolated mindspace. Silence and isolation are his constant companions his whole life. They’re naturally comforting, even though sometimes, due to his self-awareness, it is his constant reminder of how inevitable loneliness and betrayal can be in this kind of life. Although, this night might not be one like any.
Loud smacks and hits of fists on a punching bag and the rattles of chains coming from the boxing room resonate through the walls of the hallway. Turns out, he isn't the only one who seeks comfort from the distraction of pain and adrenaline.
“Pete?”
Landing one last hard, angry punch on the bag, the head bodyguard of the major family is wearing a black long sleeve and black track pants. Questionable attire for someone like Pete to wear while training or working out. Not that Kinn has been observant, but through the years of watching his bodyguard train down in the bones, he never once saw him wear something very depriving of skin. Pete always prefers something breathable but not too exposing, not unless he's at his grandma's house or working out in his room, so seeing him wearing that much black and coverage is something new.
After taking two quick intake of air, Pete turns around and greets. "Khun Kinn," he says and bows.
Kinn takes slow strides forward with narrow eyes, observing . "What are you doing here? I thought you were still under recovery." He's lying in the way he used his authoritative tone to cover the actual tone of his voice in his mind.
With ragged breathing and fast beating of his heart, Pete can only present his coy wide grin and signature awkwardly chuckles. "Just trying to get back in shape, Khun Kinn," he chirps, a tone that will never fail to make his boss feel confused. "I just thought I might need more training. And the nurse told me that I'm okay now."
I'm okay . Kinn never not heard Pete say those two words.
One mission, Pete got shot in the right arm and got pulled by one of the goons of a Yakuza leader to the stairs that have knife-sharp edges. That got him a week of hospitalization because of the gun wound, bruises and cuts all over his body, and a lot of blood loss, and when he had woken up and asked what he was feeling he replied those two words with that big smile. There is another mission where he got locked in one of the ‘operation’ cars under the bottom of a lake. He almost did not survive that if it wasn’t for Arm’s incredible skill in technology and hacking. Hospitalized for the nth time, he still has the same smile.
Kinn puts on his ‘dad’ stance before cocking head chin. “Are you sure?”
Pete shakes his head, affirmative and smiley . “Yes, sir.” His boss looks at him with narrow, sceptical eyes, making his skin break more sweat out of nervousness. Khun Kinn does not go here, not unless he is doing an inspection on the guards or for his weekly workout routine.
“If so, then would you want a round?” Kinn startles Pete back in the present. “If not, it's totally fine. I’lll just go to the pool. Do a few laps.”
“No—ah, I mean, yes! Yes, I would like to, Khun Kinn.”
His boss grins.
They did a round of hand on hand combat. Pete really fights really well which always impresses Kinn, because this side of Pete can only be seen in the battlefield. A huge contrast on the joyful, smiley, happy-go-lucky side of him that is more commonly seen by most. There's something about it that ignites a spark inside Kinn; maybe curiosity. He reserves this side of him for a reason that Kinn would like to know.
Somewhere after a couple hits, jabs, and kicks, Kinn landed a sharp one right on the wound on Pete's chest, near his left collar. Pete lets out a pained gasp as his legs give up and he falls on his left butt cheek first then he lets gravity pull his side on the cold, sweaty floor. It was sudden but Kinn is quick on his knees to catch Pete's head on his hand.
"Pete! I'm so sorry! Where did I hit you?" His breathing is rapid as his heart keeps throbbing on his chest because of the adrenaline that he was having one moment ago and now the panic that is taking over.
Kinn gently places Pete's head on his thigh as he reaches for the end of the shirt, pulling it to see the areas he hit and identify which among those is the one that he shouldn't have hit that hard. But suddenly Pete's hands bolts to hold his left wrist, stopping him from pulling the shirt upper. Kinn is stronger.
The whole room stills.
Kinn is breathing shallowly but his eyes are deeply staring at the wounds lathered on Pete's chest and stomach. He didn't remove his eyes when he saw the wound on Pete's left chest, which is the one that is starting to bleed again. It's turning redder on the edges of the broken skin. The sight of those wounds made his blood boil but in the first second he lifted his eyes to look at Pete's face, everything broke apart. His anger and fury all melted.
Pete is on the verge of crying, both of pain and embarrassment. This is all inappropriate and a clear violation in their code. They are not allowed to look weak in front of any member of the major and minor family. That's an act of disgrace. But with the way Kinn pulls him up gently just so to hold him in a more comfortable position is all it takes for him to push away.
It's a shove, technically. A clumsy one.
Pete immediately bows on the floor, like he is begging for his life to be spared in the way he is uttering apologies. He stops when a rough hand grabs the collar of his shirt. Next thing he knows he is being hauled up on the wall, puffing out a handful of air from his lungs.
A stern glare is pointed at him by his boss. Cold air touches his wounds, making him shiver and would want to fold himself to hide. He knows he can’t escape Kinn’s grip, instead he pushes himself more in the wall, delusively hoping to be swallowed by the wall or the ground.
Kinns stares at Pete's face; ear reddening, teeth clench in holding back any sound, eyes tightly closed but there is a single tear weakly rolling down the right cheek.
“Who did these?” He asked.
No answer.
He presses forward, leaning his face closer. “Answer me, Pete. Who the fuck did these to you?! ” His voice thundered with fury at how stupidly pointless his question is.
Instead of repeating the question and not getting an answer again and again, he leans his face away and then crouches to swoop his right arm under Pete’s legs while his left arm supports Pete’s torso as he carries him bridal style.
Pete attempted to put up a fight but with the way Kinn growled he gave it up.
Kinn leads them both on the small clinic around the corner of the floor. The major family decided to put one here just in case there is a need for first aid or immediate medical response. Thankfully, there is one nurse on duty, preoccupied behind the monitor, reporting the results of the recent physical tests runned on the guards.
"What happened? What weapon was used to inflict these?" The male nurse asks with a pained grimace while cleaning and treating the wound that got torn.
Pete and Kinn are confused on which one of them is the nurse asking the questions to. For the benefit of not hearing any follow up questions, Kinn takes the mic.
"Combat training," he starts, putting on a specific stance where he uses to make sure no more questions will be asked. "Pushed himself too hard, this is what he got."
It worked.
Kinn follows the nurse outside the private room. The nurse walks to the cabinet beside a first-aid chair. He pulls open a drawer.
"This cream can help the wound dry faster and ease the sting on the skin. Just a small dot can do. Here, Khun Kinn," the male nurse says, handing him a small purplish tube.
"Thank you," Kinn says in a cool voice. "You may leave us now," he orders, turning on his heels to walk back in the private room. Technically, the private room is only to be used for patients that need to be under observation before being sent to the main hospital floor of the building.
The nurse looks at Kinn with eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Are—" he clears his throat "—Sir, are you sure that it is okay for you to be the one who will apply the cream? I, I can stay to do so." He insists genuinely, but his arms jolt in fear at the way a glare is sent in his direction from the shoulder. "Oh, okay, right, I'll, ah, go now. Heh. Good night, Khun Kinn." He bows and quickly puts his things in his bag and rushes out of the door.
Standing before the door of the private room, Kinn takes a deep breath before turning the knob and walking inside.
Pete lays on the hospital bed, eyes looking at Kinn, unreadable.
From being a growling lion a moment ago, and softening into a shy cat. Kinn stood on the right side of the bed and removed the cap of the tube before putting a dot of cream on his index finger. The moment he uses his left hand to take the patch off, Pete flinches. Either because of the pain or the urge to decline in defence of the whatever codes P' Chan made them engrave in their minds to honour. Kinn anticipated that.
"Don't," he sternly says, contrasting on how gently he started applying the cream on the edges of the wound that opened. "Just lay down and let me apply the cream. That's an order," he adds to make Pete quiet and stop protesting. Maybe that or because he sees this as a way to ease Pete's mind.
He observes the wound after. He's familiar with all kinds of wounds and what kind of weapon, tool, or way used to inflict it, never once he batted an eye out of fear or disgust. But this, all of these, just makes him want to haunt down and tear whoever did them to Pete apart.
Unconsciously, his jaws clenched, then same with his left fist. Pete notices.
Pete clears his throat. "Khun Kinn," he crokes, voice hoarse. "I'm really okay. It's just a small tear—"
"How many times do you think you will be able to say that? How many more wounds will you be able to handle? Answer me, Pete."
Nothing.
Kinn puts his right hand on the metal headboard, and then he places his left hand on the side of Pete's left hand on the bed, balancing himself as he leans down close.
Stare too strong, Pete swears he never once felt so pinned on bed like this. Well…
Maybe the clandestine night of bliss, purple blue, and the dim shine of yellow from the bedside lamp can count. But instead of being pinned, he was being chained, technically.
"I don't know," he answers in a whisper-like tone, "I just know that I will until I know I have repaid Khun Kinn's family's kindness and generosity."
Fuck this , Kinn grits his teeth.
"Pete, I want you to answer my question. This is an order. Who did these to you?"
One thing that impresses Kinn about his head bodyguard is that Pete is the most skilled when it comes to restraint in giving any response, which is why he is the best choice to send in as a spy to get inside any system. Kinn once joked to Tankun that maybe Pete have a thing with pain, torture and punishment, but maybe Pete simply have a high pain tolerance.
"Answer me!" He growls, making Pete flinch.
When he received no reply again, he thought of a method. It is not the traditional method he usually uses in interrogation. It is more like a method he discovered that can work when you intended to, not just inflict pain, but stimulate. Emotional torture paired with physical stimulation can make the brain produce hormones that makes the whole body more sensitive and for the mind to be more responsive.
Kinn runs his hand on the other wound on Pete's right chest. He presses his thumb on it, eliciting a groan from the other. He can't help the light tug on the corner of his lips; the first trial seems like a green signal.
"What are you doing?" Pete asks, eyebrows knitting in the middle.
He didn't pay him any reply, and kept on pressing on the wound before moving to another at the abdomen area. The thumb presses on, massaging on the edges, which elicits more quiet sounds. No physical reaction though, yet .
"What does it feel like?" He glances up to see Pete's face.
A deep breath is what first replies to him. "What are you doing?" Pete repeats his unanswered question. "Why?"
Now, that's the right question .
"I'm punishing you," Kinn answers, innocently honest while moving his hand on another wound, above Pete's belly button. When he pressed his thumb, intentionally, on that area, it made Pete jolt up to catch his wrist.
"Why?" Pete asks, voice shaky from the nerve shock.
"Because you won't answer my question." Kinn moves to sit on the bed, and then he presses on the teared wound again, more harder this time. "Give me a name, Pete."
How can he give a name?
Kinn repeats his order, each word emphasized with a harder press of his thumb. "Give," press. "Me," another press. "A," another. "Name," and one more harder.
It's not that he can't, but it is simply because he does not want to. Pain is out of the question now, even though Kinn's thumb is making the sting in his wound get more painful. The matter that revolves his mind more is on the decision he is making; protecting the one name he does not want to hear anymore but also misses the most.
In the end, Pete did not give up any name. Even when he is writhing on every hard press while his voice gets hoarse begging for Kinn to stop. And even if the corner of his eyes swell with threatening tears as the strong hands’ touch burn on his skin.
Meanwhile, Kinn is both impressed by how much range Pete's resistance can hold, and pissed that it sounds like Pete endured all of it to keep the name from slipping off of his mouth.
Nevertheless, he stayed and watched over Pete until morning came.
~~~~~~
On the following day, while he changes into a more comfortable outfit, Pete stares at his body in the bathroom mirror.
All of his wounds were supposed to feel nothing anymore, they were only to exist as a reminder of the nightmare he went through. But after last night, these wounds carry a different memory.
He is not sure whether it disturbs him, guilts him, or it sticks to him; the pain from every hard burning press on his wounds. It should definitely disturb him and guilt him because it is an unethical disgraceful act, to have your boss nurse your wound but then at the same time weaponized those to punish you because you cannot do what you are ordered to do. And of course, it should definitely not stick to him just because he misses the pain.
He misses the pain . No matter how many times he tells himself that he should wake up from the daydreaming that it all meant something. That the person behind those wounds are as pained and suffering too. Empathy can truly spiral one's judgement, and it cuts more deeper than any blade.
Forget about him, Pete. Forget and do your job.
~~~~~~
Most of the guards that are familiar with hacking are tasked to track all CCTVs, log sheets, and other things that have useful information in tracking the locations where Porsche and Chay were last seen. All locations that their satellites have recorded are taken note of to connect any possible dots that could give them any lead.
Pete has told himself to focus but he can’t help his mind from wondering off, back to the torture slash punishment that Kinn did to him. Admittedly, he once got curious about Kinn's preferences in partners and things to do in bed. Pure curiosity, but what happened in the private room in the clinic opened a window.
The train of thoughts came into a stop for the beeping sound coming from his laptop.
"Chay."
After clicking on the red dot beeping on the screen, he immediately called Kinn.
Kinn arrived at the front door in less than three minutes. Pete leads him to the kitchen counter, where his laptop continues to create beeping sounds. A bright red dot shines on the screen.
"Of course, it'll be there," Kinn mutters to himself. He is so close to going back outside to call the attention of the guards and order them to go to the location when his nose catches on something too familiar.
He alerts his senses, determining where the scent came from and is prominent in the room. In all consideration, this is also Porsche's room, which can explain why the sweet tangerine scent of his shampoo is lingering in the air. Or…
Pete jolts on the sudden sniff on his neck. He is about to move away but a strong hand holds his left shoulder steady, and then a nose is sniffing and a mouth is breathing on his nape. The deep inhale and slow exhale of air by Kinn is making the hair on his nape and arms rise.
"Khun Kinn," he manages to say.
"Why does your hair smell like Porsche?" Kinn asks, his lips on top of Pete's ear lobe while at the same time keeping his nose on the side of Pete's hair, where the smell is the most prominent.
"What?"
"Your hair. It smells like tangerine."
"It's because it's the scent of my shampoo."
"What?"
Kinn takes a step back as Pete turns around to look at him; confusion fills both of their eyes as they stare at each other, trying to read what is going on. "But Porsche…"
And that's all it takes for Pete to understand what made his boss suddenly, out-of-nowhere. “Porsche uses my shampoo whenever he sleeps here. This is my shampoo,” he says as he points to his hair. “Is there something wrong?” he wasn't sure why he asked that when it was a question with an obvious answer.
"There is."
Two simple words delivered by a particular tone shifted the energy in the room.
Kinn stares deeply in Pete's eyes, not pinning him but snarling like he is about to devour him. Pete feels the edge of the counter dig in his back that he, by impulse, puts his hand on Kinn’s chest to stop him from leaning more forward than he already is.
Of course , that didn't do anything.
Kinn cranes his neck down to brush his nose lightly on Pete's cheek, inhaling another scent he is very familiar with; Porsche's peach scented facial cream.
Pete's breath hitches in his throat when Kinn's nose brushes down on his jaw then on the corner of his jaw, close to his neck. He does not know what to say or to do because he will be a liar if he will say that he never once daydreamed of this literal scenario happening.
History is funny as sometimes people forget about it. You all didn't really think that these two never, as in never at least once, got interested in each other. Maybe, curious is a more fitting word. Kinn never batted an eye on any of his bodyguards, because of workplace ethics, but Pete is just so many things. So, so many things.
Getting to inhale familiar scents he has been missing through the past two days, Kinn cannot hold back from pulling it in his arms. Along with the scents, the warmth radiating from the body that his hands are touching intoxicates him.
Both of their minds are having an existential crisis; Pete smells like Porsche, Kinn stares and holds like Vegas. It's confusing their judgement. They know who they're touching and scenting. Maybe it really wasn't the thought of familiar scents and touch that is intoxicating them, but the thought of finally knowing what each other feels in this closeness.
One more deep inhale in the juncture between the neck and the collarbone, Kinn then planted a feather like kiss. His lips barely touched Pete’s skin but it did elicit a shiver down Pete’s spine.
“Kinn,” he whispers, loud enough to bring Kinn’s face back up. “We can’t,” he says with a hard swallow as his eyes automatically fall on Kinn’s lips.
“I know,” Kinn replies. “But just for tonight, we can, right?”
What kind of question is that?
“Right.” Pete gives in either way, his shoulders eases down as he lets his right hand touch Kinn’s left chest.
This is all for tonight or never again, so why not pretend it is all okay? That this is not something that is messed up or fucked up to do. That this night is their only chance to be a little honest, even though it will surely complicate things afterwards.
Ever since the day he saw him in the firing range, in the combat training, and in action on his first assigned mission, Kinn knew that there is a line he should never cross. Yet, nothing has ever stopped him from picturing the many possibilities and consequences there will be if he ever did cross that line. It’s all thanks to his brother for requesting to have Pete that bought him enough time to keep his mind away and preoccupied.
Same goes to Pete. While he is still training, P'Chan has them come down the basement to watch how an interrogation works. At first he thought that P'Chan would be teaching and demonstrating, but all of a sudden the middle child, the sole heir of the main family. Sole heir in the sense of the situation among all of the three sons of Sir Korm Theerapanyakul, the head of the major family. Kinn walks in the room and everybody's staring at him, both in awe and high respect, but Pete looks at him with keen curiosity. Especially when Kinn began his demonstration of how interrogations are done by Theerapanyakul method.
“Can I?” Kinn asks as he nudges his nose on Pete’s nose. His breath fans over Pete’s lip, which made Pete let out a sharp exhale. Pete is about to protest, which Kinn already anticipated. “Not that,” he clarifies, which now receives a wide-eyed reaction from Pete. “No, not that either. I mean, can I hug you?” That took Pete aback.
Unsure and constantly being distracted by the other man’s lips, Pete manages a nod.
Neither of them verbally questions whether it is really a hug because it feels more like something else. It is not the fact that Kinn’s right arm and hand are on Pete’s lower back, and that Kinn’s left hand is cradling Pete’s right cheek all while he nuzzles his nose on Pete’s cheek and then breathes in deeply the scent on Pete’s neck. It is also not the fact that Pete has both of his hands resting on the waist of Kinn, his boss . And it is absolutely not the fact that they both managed to let each other cross personal spaces; also known as their feet and legs brushing lightly over each other, and their fronts being an inch away from touching.
Kinn has his mouth fallen open as the scent of tangerine gets stronger the lower he goes on Pete’s neck, almost reaching Pete’s clavicle. By delusive impulse, he pecked on it, and when Pete did not flinch, he then, experimentally, bars his lower jaw to gently scrape on the skin and bone. That caused a borderline moan from the other.
They feel the same, the both of them both thought the same.
Behold, the long-time curiosity has successfully lured the cat.
All of a sudden, Kinn’s phone vibrated in his pants, just at the very moment he had taken a closer step, almost, almost , making their areas touch. Honestly, they would want to crush the phone silent. He is not thinking of leaning away or stepping back, but Pete beat him to it.
“That must be an important call, sir,” Pete says as leans back and turns his head away, avoiding any eye contact. He has also had his hand back on his sides, locking them in place. “Answer it.”
Of course it is a different case for Kinn. “Okay,” he replies breathlessly. He huffs a breath before stepping back and turning to face the door while pulling his phone from his pocket. “Speak.”
It is all hums and footsteps that fills the room before the sound of door opening and then the latch of the lock.
Pete has let go of the breath that he has been holding ever since it got caught in his throat when the phone broke the uphill direction of whatever is happening on the ‘hug’.
He doesn't know what made him say yes to it, and it is definitely not because Kinn being his boss is a factor. Not that he has 'Fuck my boss' is in his bucket list or something. It feels more—this is something he has been trying to bury in the back of his mind—likely beause Kinn have the same intensity of stare, strong grips and holds on his body, and the damn familiar scent. What? Is it, like, a family sort of perfume? But he has never smelled that scent from Tankun. Well, it is Tankun. He only has ever met that specific scent from Kinn and…him.
He can’t deny that he has been missing him, craving him, looking for him ever since their last encounter at Yok’s bar. He broke down in front of him, and now he feels like he is about to again.
There’s this spiralling thought that has been haunting him since the clinic. Guilt. Why should he? Pete said goodbye, so did he, but why does it feel so wrong to let himself be touched and get close with another man? Perhaps the fact that the said man is actually in a relationship, an ongoing and happy one, with his best friend. So that’s a reason to feel guilty.
~~~~~~
“Khun Kinn, I found him.” Pete announces right away as soon as he stepped inside the meeting room.
A light crosses Kinn’s eyes. Without saying anything, just a nod, he pushed his chair back and walked around the long-ass meeting table to follow Pete. Forgetting about his father and brother, Tankun, who both are too stunned to speak.
"Where is he?"
"The Temple."
"Why on earth is Porsche there? What could he possibly be doing in such a place?"
"I don't know. Repenting, maybe," Pete tries to humour, which earned a smile from Kinn.
Kinn Theerapanyakul does not know whether he is going through an existential crisis or an emotional spiral.
Because at one moment he is so optimistic and thrilled to see his boyfriend, but then the next moment he is all different.
Imagine, your significant other humping on the back of a red freaking Ducati that belongs to your nemesis-slash-cousin, and then driving away to who-knows-where. He still can't believe what he just saw.
Confused and devastated, Kinn has been drinking non-stop in hopes that the burn of alcohol can overpower the sting in his heart and to distract the cloud of confusion in his head.
Dejected and emotional, once again, Pete has been locking, drowning, himself in his and Porsche's room, wanting to be far away from anyone.
They had enough of being clouded and drowned. For tonight, they just want to forget; no thinking, just trying to look for a remedy.
It's quarter after one, Kinn knocks on the door, chest heaving in all mixed emotions and alcohols. How it ends with him and Pete walking inside to the bedroom is a mystery of mutual unspoken understanding. With all the lights closed they could be anywhere, far from all the noise and pain.
Tonight they’re in this space, where only Pete and Kinn exist. No Vegas, no Porsche. It’s just the two of them. No thinking, just trying to feel each other's skin and breathe.
Pete pulls by the couch. He stares keenly in Kinn's eyes, who are both staring deeply in him. His thumb caresses Kinn's cheek before pressing his lips on top of Kinn's; testing the waters. A hand creeps on his nape, holding him in place as the kiss gets deeper.
Kinn have a principle not to kiss any person that he only fancy for a fast fuck. Though he is not the sentimental kind that only kisses someone if they truly like them. He sees kissing as a good way to exert power and control while not being too intimidating or threatening like he constantly has to pose in front of everyone. Pete is a special case, he is not just someone that Kinn have daydreamed of being intimate with. Pete is a person he found resolution of his trust issues, before and after Tawan. Other than the trust, it is the familiarity he finds comfortingly with Pete.
Pete lets a quiet moan slip out of his lips as Kinn has managed to slip his tongue in. It feels good. The feeling that he is being basically devoured while being pulled on to sit on top of a warm lap. And then the firm hands gripping his sides are enough to make him pull hard on the hair at the back of Kinn's head.
They both groan after pulling their mouths away for a moment to breathe. Neither stopped feeling each other's sides and chest. Without exchanging any words, they both started taking off their clothes.
As Kinn guides Pete to lay on his back on the couch, which miraculously can fit them both, they have kept their eyes glued on each other. Even when Kinn pulled Pete's boxers and briefs, or even when he spit on his hand to act as lube, neither removed their eyes off of each other.
The first intrusion of the finger stings, but the sting feels more pleasurable than painful. Pete has his arms lean on Kinn's shoulder while his fingers gently comb Kinn's raven hair. It's so soft, Pete muses in his mind as he keeps going while Kinn pushes another finger. His face flinches on the stretch.
Kinn continues to prep him. The considerate act itself is taking Kinn by surprise as he doesn't really do such a thing to anyone he has slept with (even with Porsche). He should not even be thinking about this too much because he knows damn why he is only doing it to Pete. He knows Pete likes pain, and that pain is the drug they need right now.
So without a warning of any sort, he pulled his fingers hastily and then pushed his cock aggressively, fully burying it deep inside.
" AHHRGH~ " Pete shouts, eyes shutting quick as the sudden hard intrusion in his hole took him in great surprise. A strong jolt of pain resonates in his insides, spine, and nerves. His mouth fell open as he feel like his lungs were about to pop too. His nails digs in Kinn's scalp, which elicits a groan from the said man. His cock definitely flinches on the sting and the fact that with just one thrust, Kinn already found his spot.
He groans one more with an audible strangled sigh before lifting his eyelids, meeting Kinn's deep, dark orbs of desire, need, anger, confusion and sadness. When he didn't show any sign of protest, the man on top of him pulled out and then thrust the whole thing again, scraping and stimulating the inside of his hole.
After a few thrusts, they are both panting and holding tightly on any surface their hands manage to reach. Pete has his arms wrapped around Kinn's broad shoulders while his hands are drawing bloody red crescents on Kinn's back. Kinn has his right hand holding onto the couch while his left hand is bruising a handprint on Pete's right hip. It will totally leave a mark.
A few more groans and they are both moaning on each other's necks, letting the climax drown them in the clouds of their release on and in each other. Because for tonight they’re here just to forget. No words or lies they might regret. And they don’t have to know how deep they’ll fall, m because right now feels like they have it all.
.
.
.
The tangerine nor the leather pine tree scent is nowhere to be found in their skins. They both smell nothing like the people they have tried to forget. Their musky scents of sweat and semen are the only things left in their skins.
But at this moment, does it even matter?
~~~~~~
Pete lays on his back, staring at the ceiling, while Kinn stands by the window, a cigarette burning between his fingers.
“What are you going to do now?”
“Huh?”
“You know where and who Porsche is with. It is certainly because of the death of his parents. What are you going to do about it now?”
Instead of answering Pete’s question, he walks across the room, pulling out another stick from the leather cigarette wallet he has in the pocket of his pants. When he reached the couch, where Pete is, he placed the cigarette stick between Pete’s still-plush-pinkish lips. He is about to pull out his lighter but a hand pulls him down by the neck.
Pete pulled him close enough for the tips of their cigarette sticks to meet, using the lit up tip of Kinn’s cigarette to light up his.
It’s pretty hot , Kinn admits in his mind as they both share an eye contact. Both of their eyes are still as dark, deeply clouded from a few hours ago.
Pete unholds Kinns neck, whilst running his fingers on the tails of Kinn’s hair once again. He uses the same hand to hold the cigarette as he breathes in the smoke and then exhales it in a sultry way right on Kinn’s face.
Smirks crack on their lips. Kinn leans away and then sits on the floor, his back on the side of the couch. Pete just inhales and exhales the smoke of the cigarette; he is going to get an earful from his grandma if she ever finds out that he does this more often than eating.
“How are you feeling?” Kinn asks.
“Okay.”
That word again . “Seriously, Pete.”
Pete lets out a chuckle. “Yes, I’m okay. Don’t worry, you’re not my first.”
By impulse reaction, Kinn’s jaw clenched. “Okay.”
The room goes quiet, other than their puffs of smoke.
“Who’s your first? Is it him?”
“No one. And no.” Although, V is definitely a first in an aspect.
“Why him?” Kinn asks, then putting the cigarette end back in his lips and blows (questionably gracefully) a ribbon of smoke.
“Why him?” Pete mirrors the question while doing the same thing.
They're smoking, which is definitely a two-meaning phrase to describe them.
Kinn is the first to answer, listing the reasons he knows (or that he can manage to remember in this state of mind). “Because he saved my life twice. He made me trust someone again, made me believe that I can love again.” He lifts his eyes off the floor to turn them to look at Pete's.
Their eyes met for another time.
Pete takes a second more to just quietly stare at Kinn this close. Because at the end of the day, he will not have another chance. “…He’s the first person that made me not feel weird about my desires. That there’s nothing to be ashamed of with it.”
Kinn is too late to hold back the scoff, that is supposed to be of somewhat disbelief but it sounded saudade. “Should’ve seen that in the first place. I mean, you like pain and he likes to inflict pain. Not bad.”
“Yeah?" Pete manages to put up a better facade; a little twinkle of a relieved smile. "You know, you and Porsche have trust issues but you got to trust each other, and then end up falling in love with one another. It’s like a kdrama romcom, huh?”
They both chuckle on that thought. Pete having a questionable compatible relationship with a sadist; Kinn resolving his trust issue and falling in love by surprise with a stranger.
“Kinn, have you ever heard of: ' two poisoned hearts that happen to be each other’s antidote' ?"
“Ah, I don’t think I have.”
“Hm. I think that is what we are.”
No more word exchange. Rather, evident, readable honest emotions projecting on the way their eyes spoke for themselves silently.
~~~~~~
La fin