Chapter Text
The thing no one told Chay about being a runaway is what comes after . You make a plan? Great, the first step is over. Then you go through with your plan: pack all of your essentials, pick a destination, take as much cash (and cash only) as you can, throw away your phone, get a new one, get rid of your cards, do not get new ones. Pick a right time to leave, and if you can absolutely afford to, leave a note, and then finally, finally , run the fuck away.
The hard part was done. Chay had carried through with it, and as guilty as he felt for leaving his brother, he knew he would get over it. Not like he even noticed his existence anymore. Too busy with his new role, with whatever the fuck he had to do as the leader of Minor Family.
It's for the best , he repeatedly told himself, almost believing it. Not even the guilt and the love he has for his brother is enough to make Chay turn back.
After Porsche and Kinn had formed an alliance and decided to blur the lines between the Minor and Main Families, Porsche had decided that Chay would be the safest at the Main family compound. A faction of the minor family guards were still loyal to Vegas and Kan, and until Porsche had weeded everyone out, everyone had decided it would be best to leave Chay with someone he trusted. As always, everyone had decided what was best for Chay, made his choices without ever asking how he felt.
Chay couldn't understand how Porsche expected him to live with the man who had ruined their lives, in the same prison that his mother was trapped in. How he expected to call it home.
Chay had a home. And then it was taken away from him. From them.
And then there was Kim.
Kim, who he hadn't blocked after the song. Kim, who still texted him sometimes. Apologies, more songs, some weird memes he didn't understand. Kim, who was visiting the compound more and more, now that he knew Chay was living there. Kim, who still didn't tell him what the hell did he want from Chay.
Kim, who had broken his heart and left him crying on the ground.
Kim, who had protected him. Twice. When Chay wasn't even aware he had done it.
That had sealed the deal. Kim wasn't the sole reason Chay had decided to do this, but he was a big factor in his life these days. Dictating his life choices just like WiK had dictated his career choice. Dyeing his hair, not going to the interview….or leaving.
So he ran away, executing the plan perfectly. Even if the note was a risky choice, he at least owed his brother an explanation, couldn't let Porsche believe he was kidnapped again.Besides, Chay had done his best not to leave ANY clues as to where he was or where he would go. He had simply written that it was his choice, and begged Porsche not to come looking for him.
But then….. the adrenaline left him. He had done everything right but right when he was about to get on the bus, the fear and nerves crashed into him and he had a panic attack. Public meltdowns are his thing, apparently.
So here he is, in the middle of the night, post-breakdown, walking aimlessly on some empty street with nothing but a burner phone and a backpack.
Millions of thoughts were crawling through his mind like spiders. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should go back. Chay has no doubt Porsche will welcome him back, with open arms. Tears, few apologies, and he would welcome him back in. He could go back to his miserable life but at least he will still have someone, at least he will still have a roof over his head.
He can turn back, get a taxi, and they can both pretend it was teenage hormones. A mistake.
Chay doesn’t know how long he was walking until he hears laughter from a distance.He looks up to find a group of young boys smoking around the corner and stops dead in his tracks. The weight of the cash now ten times heavier on his back, he turns around faster than he has ever in his life. He has no intention of getting mugged, or worse. He doesn't even look back to see if anyone is following him.
God, what was he thinking? What made him think following through with a half-baked-at-best scheme was a good idea? Stupid, stupid, stupid….
Heart beating a mile a minute, and thoughts blaring like sirens, Chay fails to notice the figure in front of him and bumps directly into them. They both trip and the contents of the bag they were holding spill on the ground. Well, the liquids did. Fortunately some bags were still intact.
Chay gasps and helps them gather whatever is salvageable, mumbling endless apologies under his breath. The person, who Chay now notices is a young man, grumbles something and stands up. Chay stands up as well, still apologizing but comes to a stop when he finally gets a real look at the man.
He is a few inches shorter than Chay, but he is definitely older. He is wearing a faded out sleeveless denim jacket over what looks like a black tank top and ripped jeans. His black piercings stand out to Chay even in the dim yellow streetlight. The simple black tattoo stripes catch his eye next and he wonders how much it hurt. Chay was there when Porsche got his phoenix tattoo, and while his brother had a pretty good pain tolerance, some tears had slipped out anyway.
The man raises an eyebrow at Chay, an annoyed curl to his lips. Chay looks away and apologizes for the millionth time that night, not knowing what else to say. The man opens his mouth, to give a strongly worded response no doubt, but something makes him stop. He looks Chay up and down, taking in the view of a lonely, shaking young boy with nothing but a bag on him.
He sighs.
“It’s fine,” the man says. His voice is a little rough, Chay notices. He must be one of those people who sound pissed off 24/7. “You good?”
Is he good? Chay almost laughs.
“I'm fine,” he says instead.
“Right,” replies Denim Punk(look Chay has to call him something ), unconvinced. “Is that why you look like you someone stepped on your pet tadpole and killed it?”
Chay says nothing.
“Why are you even wandering around the city at night, let alone this area,” he continued. “It’s not safe, especially for young boys like you. Call your parents or whoever you live with and go home right now.”
It was the voice that did it. Something about his scolding tone reminded Chay of his brother. The same overbearing concern. Which was the last straw apparently, and the dam breaks for the second time that night. He is crying again, in front of a stranger no less. Said stranger looks conflicted for a moment before coming down to hold his shoulders as Chay kneels on the ground. Denim Punk whispers some words of comfort and consolation that sound natural and awkward at the same time. Not that Chay has enough presence of mind to notice.
He calms down after what feels like hours, though realistically it must have been only ten minutes. The man stares at him a little too hard before something crosses his face.
Realization.
“You don’t have a home to go back to,” says he. It's a statement, not a question. “You ran away.”
He doesn't deny it, there's no point. Despite his brother’s voice screaming in his head, to get away, to stop talking to this man. He doesn't listen. He didn't listen when that voice told him not to run away either.
Denim Punk sighs again. It sounds like a decision.
"You're coming with me."
"What?"
"You're coming with me," he repeats. "It's late at night, you have nowhere to go, and no offense but you look like a teenager and no hotel is gonna give you a room without some heavy questioning."
"I'm almost nineteen!" Chay says indignantly.
"Good to know," Denim Punk dismisses. "Not my point. I'm not going to let a teenager wander the street alone."
"I don't even know you!"
"My name's Black."
Chay stares. Black stares back. He gives up.
"Porchay. You can call me Chay."
"Nice to meet you, Chay," Black smiles, weirdly warm. "My brother's going to be real confused as to why I went to get him food and got back with a boy, but he'll like you, don't worry. We have enough noodles for the three of us."
Chay barely has time to process his words before he is being dragged by his hand. He doesn't protest, even though he should. His choices were simple: walk alone in a dangerous area, potentially get lost trying to find the nearest hotel or go with this stern but kind stranger. He decides to take his chances with the latter.
Besides, he has food. And god knows Chay is starving.
****
The walk to Black's house is pretty short. He still hasn't let go of Chay's hand, not that he's complaining. After the night he's had, he welcomes the firm touch. Black leads him up the stairs and they stop in front of an apartment on the third floor. He knocks once and the door opens a few seconds later.
"What took you so lo-" the person at the door stops. Or rather, Black stops, blinking at Chay and the other Black.
Chay blinks back. Looks between the inside Black and the Black next to him.
Right. Black had mentioned a brother. He did not mention it was a twin brother.
It's almost comical, the difference. Black's twin is dressed in a simple white t-shirt with a cartoon frog on it and baggy baby blue sweatpants. The big round glasses make his eyes look even bigger than they already are. He has piercings in the exact spot as Black but his were star patterned as opposed to Black's simplistic studs and ring.
Cute , Chay thinks. Black's brother looks cute. Despite having the exact same face, Chay would have never called Black cute.
"Black, what's going on?" The brother asks.
"Let's talk inside."
Black enters the room and Chay follows him awkwardly, Black's brother joins them after closing the door. He sets the food and Chay's bag on the table and tells Chay to sit on the bed. Chay complies, feeling out of place. Black leans on the bedside table while his twin sits on the other edge of the bed.
"I'm White," Black's brother says.
Chay smiles. The names were ridiculous but it fits them.
"Chay," he replies.
"He'll be staying with us for the night," Black tells his brother. "And maybe for a while, when he explains why he ran away."
White doesn't question it. Maybe this is natural for them. Maybe Black regularly brings home runaways and White is used to it.
"He can explain it later, food first," says White. "Are you hungry, Chay?"
Chay's face is answer enough.
They eat in silence after that, White and Chay too focused on eating and Black on making sure that they're eating enough. He occasionally takes a bite from White's plate but doesn't eat much besides that.
Throughout the dinner, Chay steals glances at the two of them. He is as focused on observing the twins as he is on eating. They are sitting on the opposite side of the table, shoulder to shoulder. Their differences are more visible now that they're next to each other. For one, Chay was right. Black does seem to have a resting bitchface. White, on the other hand, seems really expressive. He smiles more than his brother, and Chay notices a little dimple.
The most obvious thing, however, is how comfortable they are with each other. Sometimes they will look at each other and have an entire conversation with their eyes. Chay can tell they're talking about him. He wishes they wouldn't do it telepathically, though. It's creepy. Besides, Chay is more than used to people talking about him like he's not there.
They don't pester him after they're done eating and Chay is grateful for that. He doesn't have the energy to answer any questions or come up with convincing lies that won't reveal his actual background. He can tell that both Black and White are smart enough to figure it out if he slips up.
They let him sleep but Chay is aware of the questions that await him tomorrow.