Archive of Our Own

There is a universe in which Kim, battered and bleeding, falls unconscious in the back of a dark alley, out of sight from the street, and isn’t found until many days later. By then, he’s bled out on the dirty alley floor and there is nothing to be done. The funeral is lavish and his brothers mourn him.

There is a universe in which Kim, battered and bleeding, falls unconscious just a little bit earlier, in the middle of a street frequented by bargoers and tourists looking for a walk on the slightly riskier part of town. He’s found by a couple of such tourists, who call for help, and Kim is brought to a hospital. From there, a well-meaning nurse alerts his family and Kim is brought home before he’s even fully healed. He doesn’t leave home again until he’s eighteen and manages to make a name for himself as emerging artist WIꞰ.

This is neither of these. In this universe, Kim was found by someone he would come to call brother in time. In this universe, Kim has found a new family and peace. For now.

—***—

It’s been over four years since the Kittisawats found him and more or less adopted him. Almost five since Kim grabbed a few of his belongings and ran as fast, and as far, as he could from his father. He’s grown complacent, allowed himself to relax in his new life.

When the blow comes, it comes from an unexpected direction.

Porsche is late getting home one night and when he does, the story he tells and the watch he carries make Kim’s blood run cold.

When Porsche goes in to work the next day, Kim is right behind him.

It’s time to stop hiding.

—***—

What Porsche sees, when he goes into Hum Bar for his opening shift, is a row of black suits, seated at the bar, at the end of which is Kinn. He pauses in the doorway and feels the body behind him pause too before blending into the shadows, out of sight from the room. Yok is facing Kinn from the other side of the counter and fawning all over him. Game on.

They exchange a few more pleasantries while Porsche struts down the lengths of the bar until he reaches them. As he does, Kinn asks "May I have a word with the bar’s favorite guy?" 

"Of course," Yok says. Then she turns to Porsche, "Take good care of Khun Kinn. Excuse me." She finishes as she heads to the backroom with a candle on her head. Porsche mentally shakes his head and turns his attention to Kinn.

"What? You’re scared I might hurt the people around you? You think I’m a low-class mafia?"

"You want your watch back?" Porsche questions as he walks behind the bar.

"That might be a nice first step. But that's not why I'm here." Best case scenario is out then. That's fine, they can work with it.

"That's good because I don't have it. I gave it away. Can I make you a drink?" Porsche doesn't wait for an answer and starts making Kinn an Old Fashioned. He seems like that type of guy. He takes the opportunity to glance in the mirror behind the bar, making sure his shadow isn’t visible. He makes the whole cocktail-making process as flashy as he knows how, hands visible at all times. All eyes are on him. Good. He sets the drink in front of Kinn with a flourish and a half bow. He throws in a smirk as garnish. All eyes on me.

"Wow, bitter with a sweet aftertaste. This is nice." Kinn seems surprised by that but Porsche is one of the best bartenders in the city. He still works for Yok because of his loyalty to the person who gave him a job when nobody else would and her willingness to accommodate the occasional weird shift hours he needs.

"I can be nice too," He winks. "You still haven't told me what you want." He leans on the bar suggestively. A little too close for comfort, given the suits' tense shifting. Keep your eyes on me, good boys. Kinn waves them down.

"I think it’s loud here. Let’s find a private spot to talk." Kinn makes to stand from the bar stool but Porsche interrupts him. He needs to give his shadow time to work his magic.

"I’m not going." Kinn sits back down, gaze fixed on him. Porsche can feel it like a physical weight.

"Well, that’s a shame. This pretty bar might get messy… Don’t you think?" Porsche leans back from the bar, stretching his arms out, movement exaggerated. Look at me.

"You're not going to do that." Porsche isn't sure of that but the point is to keep the conversation going.

"Oh?" Kinn lifts an eyebrow. He tries to look unaffected but his eyes are sharp, focused on Porsche. Porsche finds himself liking the attention. Huh.

"I thought you were the bar's partner now. Would you mess up your shiny new investment?" Bringing his arms down as he talks, he lets the momentum swing them backward and grabs the shelving behind him with both hands. Shifting his weight on one foot, Porsche juts out his hip. In this position, every asset he has is at its advantage. Kinn certainly seems to appreciate that fact and his eyes dip to Porsche's waistline and below as he looks.

"You make a good point. But I could also just pull out my newly acquired stake." From behind Kinn, Porsche spots a brief flash. The row of suits are still eyeing him warily and don't notice.

"You could," Porsche agrees, straightening. "But why don't we cut to the chase and you tell me what you want?" Kinn seems to calculate for a moment before deciding to forgo the change of location.

Step 1, complete.

"I want you to be my bodyguard." Porsche can't stop the laugh that comes out of him at that statement but Kinn looks very serious.

"What? Your bodyguard?" That is not what they were expecting. "You mean like these bozos?" He points at the row of suits, who shift restlessly, offended, and still looking at him. "I thought you wanted your watch? Maybe a bit of payback for taking it?"

"We can start with my watch." Kinn agrees, with the air of someone humoring a child.

"I already told you, I don't have it." Leaning forward against the bar again, Porsche drops his voice, "You're welcome to do a body search if you want." He says with a grin. Kinn is silent for a long time then one of the suits moves. "Ha ha, nope. Not you MIB. Only Khun Kinn gets to put his hands on me." His grin widens at the startled look on Kinn's face. "Well?" Porsche asks the man. Kinn visibly gathers himself.

"We pinged the watch coming into the bar at the same time you did." Tracker. The paranoid little brat was right.

"And yet, I don't have it. What does that tell you?" Porsche is a little curious about what explanation Kinn will come up with.

"You could simply be lying," Kinn says, considering. Boooring.

"Or?" Porsche leads. Something clicks for Kinn at that moment, eyes going sharp.

"Or you didn't come in alone." Bingo.

Step 2, complete.

"Do you know what you and your little Playing Cards soldiers' problem is?" Porsche asks, smiling. "You are all so sure that I'm the biggest threat in here that you haven't been paying attention to anything but me since I came in." He sees a ripple of indignation go through the row of suits and turns to them. "Calm down, boys, before you sprain something." He turns back to Kinn. "I can understand why you need new bodyguards. Not a single one of them has noticed they aren't armed anymore."

That prompts a flurry of checks of holsters from the suits. Then, a pinging noise comes from behind them and they all turn to watch. Kim is leaning back against the wall, close to the corner where the room forms an L shape, pushing bullets out of a magazine one by one, letting them drop to the ground where they land with a ping. Dramatic little brat. Porsche looks at Kinn, who seems frozen in place.

Step 3, complete?

—

He and Porsche are sitting on the swing bench outside, winding down after a long day.

Kim has had to deal with the loan sharks again. Arthee hasn’t been by the house for years, longer than Kim himself has been around, and, still, he continues to put it as collateral for his gambling debts, forcing the Kittisawat siblings to keep dealing with debt collectors. Kim wishes he could find the man and impress upon him the importance of family. Violently. He’s unfortunately limited in what he can do if he wants to stay under the radar of the mafia. He’s talked it over many times with Porsche and he keeps getting overwhelmed when the man’s response is that Kim should stay safe and hidden rather than help with their problems.

Porsche’s day has been eventful too if the jittery way he’s holding himself is any indication. Kim waits him out, aware that Porsche will start talking as soon as he’s put the words in order in his head. It takes a long time but Porsche finally tells him about his day. Kim feels unease rise the more the story progresses. When Porsche takes out the watch he "won" as "payment", Kim takes it with a trembling hand. He swears his heart stops when he sees the crest on the watch's face. Theerapanyakun. He runs to his room to grab the scrambler he’d gotten cheap off of a black market dealer who does business during the fights Porsche sometimes participates in. He and Chay have been fiddling with it, as a fun project, and he prays that it both works and that nobody has been able to track the watch yet.

Porsche stays silent while Kim freaks out then, once he's a little calmer, asks if he knows the owner of the watch. Kim can tell he’s skeptical of the watch having a tracker but he doesn’t vocalize it.

They talk for a long time that night. About what to do. About the possible reactions of the people connected to the watch. They hatch a tentative plan but Kim has been gone from the mafia for too long to be sure of anything so they keep it barebones and easily changed.

Control the environment. Keep them distracted and off balance. Turn the tables on them.

They talk for so long that Chay comes back down, in his pajamas, to drag Kim to bed, complaining the whole time about his lack of cuddle partner.

—

Kinn’s thoughts are full of white noise. His eyes struggling to take in the sight in front of him.

His mind is stuck on that horrible day, five years ago, when the group of bodyguards sent to investigate a lead on his little brother’s whereabouts had come back with tales of a fight between a street gang and a teenager and of a dark alley and blood, so much blood. Too much blood. They had looked into every hospital or small clinic, even the vet clinics, to find him. (They had also, after time had passed and hope had dwindled, looked into the morgues.) They never found him.

(That gang no longer exists. Every single one of its members wiped out of existence. A tribute to the wrath of the Theerapanyakun family.)

He knows that Father believes his youngest son dead, sure that, were he not, he would have been found by now. Sure that nobody can hide from the Theerapanyakuns for long, not even a Theerapanyakun. That certainty his father holds, of his own infallibility, has stripped much of the shine of filial devotion Kinn once held for him. After all, if he was, Kinn would still have a little brother.

He knows that Tankhun does not believe their brother to be dead. That he will hold that belief for as long as there isn’t a body to prove otherwise. He no longer mentions it within Kinn’s hearing, however. Not since Kinn had snapped at him to shut up about it on a day when he had been feeling the strain of the ring on his finger more acutely than usual. (The look on his big brother’s face that day still shames him.)

He would have been found if he was alive.

No body, no proof, no death.

Those are the two truths he has lived with for the past five years. Unable to let go of hope. Unable to cling to it. Forever lost.

Until now.

No body. There isn’t a body, Kinn. He’s not dead. Tankhun’s voice resonates in his head. I will not bury my baby brother without a body. I won’t.

You were right, is all Kinn can think right now. You were right, P’Khun.

He takes a step forward.

Then he’s right in front of Kim, arms drawing him into a tight hug, uncaring of who might be watching.

His little brother is alive.

"Kim." He tightens his arms, unwilling to let go, lest this miracle fades from his sight. "Kim."

—

He hears the screeching before he even reaches the hallway. The door to his father’s office flies open as he’s about to twist the handle and Tankhun barrels into him.

Another day, another fight. His brother and his father never see eye to eye these days. Not since… Not since Kinn has stopped needing to specify whether he was talking about his older brother or his younger brother when recounting a story. There is only one brother now, the other forever lost to them.

Tankhun doesn’t spare him a glance as he stomps his way out of the room and away from the scene of his latest tantrum.

Kinn walks in to find his father calmly putting the pieces back on his chess board, as if a gust of wind, rather than his distraught son, had made them tumble to the ground.

His father’s lack of care for his sons hurts. Kinn has had to reevaluate a lot of things since the day the search for Kim was called off. It has been three years now and in that time a lot of things have changed. The biggest one being the secret alliance he has with his cousin. He will need support once he is ready to take over the family. He can’t afford to have an enemy so close to him.

—

Kim waits, hidden in the shadows, and follows his target as silently as he can as they sneak past him and out into the back street. He takes great care to keep his footsteps silent and hangs back the right distance to keep from being noticed while avoiding losing the tail.

He follows for some time, until his target stops, looks around, and ducks into a narrow alley. Kim creeps closer to the mouth of the alley, peeking in cautiously. His target is crouched down, hand extended towards… a cat? A small, dirty, scraggly-looking thing, probably still young enough to be considered a kitten. Kim shakes his head at the same time as he can’t help the smile spreading on his face.

Chay is taking out the leftovers he’d snuck out of the house with and feeding them to the kitten. The beast looks at Chay with the beginning of an adoration Kim is very familiar with. How long has Chay been feeding it with their leftovers before Kim had caught on to his behavior?

He steps more fully into the alley, blocking the exit, and makes his presence known.

"That thing needs a bath." He says. Both Chay and the kitten startle and the latter finds refuge under the nearest dumpster. Chay turns to look at him, a guilty look on his face.

"P’Kim." Kim lets him squirm for a moment.

"Come on. Let's take it home and make sure it doesn’t have fleas or anything." Chay beams at him. He’ll take the brunt of Porsche’s reaction if it means Chay keeps looking at him like that.

(The cat turns out to be a she. Chay names her Pearl. A little orange tabby full of affection for her saviors. Kim does not relate. Not at all.)

—

"Hello, cousin."

"Fuck off, Vegas, I’m not in the mood for whatever today’s taunts are."

"I heard the search was called off."

"I said fuck off."

"So Uncle Korn thinks his little soldier is dead, huh?"

"If you don’t shut the fuck up, I’m going to make sure you wear the imprint of my ring as a tattoo on your face for the next week at least."

"Ooh, touchy. And here I was, ready to offer my help."

"..."

"I have some contacts, here and there, I could have them continue a discrete search."

"... What do you want?"

"A better deal when we’re both head than what my father has with yours. And safety for Macau."

"I’m listening."

—

"Hey, Chay. How was your sleepover?"

"It was fine." Chay drops his bag by the stairs before doubling back to drop himself on the couch. Kim eyes him for a bit, hesitating between taking Chay’s answer as is or needling him a bit to get the truth out of him. He puts down the notebook he’s been scribbling lyrics in and turns to sit sideways on the couch and look at the sullen teenager.

"You don’t have the look of someone who had a good time."

"It was fine, P’Kim. Really." Chay is pouting as he says it. It’s obviously not fine.

"Okay." Chay pouts even harder. Kim lets the silence stretch.

"Nothing bad happened or anything."

"Okay." More silence.

"Ohm’s mom made a cake. It was good. And we played games. And stayed up late. It was fun." Chay’s voice doesn’t sound like it was fun.

"Okay." Silence once more. Kim can almost follow the thoughts as they play on the half of Chay’s face that he can see.

"P’Kim." Chay turns to look at him now. "Am I weird?"

"Yes."

"P’Kiiiimm." Chay’s pout reaches epic proportions. Not the answer he was looking for, evidently.

"Chay, sweetheart, your favorite hobby is organizing small concerts for the neighborhood’s stray cat population. And you practice in front of Pearl to make sure the cats will like the songs." Kim lets Chay mull over that for a bit then adds. "What prompted the question this time though?"

"I…" Chay falls silent, frowning and worrying at his lower lip with his teeth, and Kim sits up a little straighter. What happened during that sleepover? "We played all those games that you see kids play in movies, right?" Kim nods, encouraging. "And then one of the others wanted to play spin the bottle. And everyone was like, both eager and embarrassed and that’s kinda normal, too, right?"

"I guess."

"But they were all giggling and saying it was good and stuff. And after a bit, the bottle landed on me and I kissed the girl who spun it and it was… okay, I guess." Kim swears mentally. He is not equipped to deal with this kind of crisis. Where is Porsche when you need him? But Chay is on a roll now that he’s started and Kim’s bubbling panic gets ignored. "And, when we started, one of the girls was, like, I don’t want to kiss boys, and after a while, we ended up deciding you had to kiss whoever, boy or girl, and then it was my turn and my bottle landed on one of the boys and I thought maybe I’d like that better, you know?" Chay is rambling, going back and forth in his recounting but Kim catches enough of it that his panic is stimied. Maybe it’s not that kind of crisis?

"Did…did you? Like it better?" He asks.

"No." Chay looks forlorn. "Am I weird, P’Kim?"

"Why did you think you would like it better?" He asks instead.

"Well because…" Chay trails off, ducking his head so he can hide his eyes behind his hair.

"Chay?" Chay continues hiding, throwing little glances his way.

"Because…" He takes a deep breath. "Because I kinda really want to kiss you, so I thought I was gay." He says in a rush. Kim freezes. "P’Kim?" Chay asks after he’s been silent for a long time.

"You… Oh." Oh.

"I’m sorry," Chay says, looking desolate.

"No. No, sweetheart, don’t be sorry." He reaches out for Chay and lays a gentle hand on his cheek. "Don’t be sorry. I…" And suddenly Chay is in his space, hand on his shoulders and straddling his lap and, oh, this is nice. Kim has always liked cuddling with Chay. Then Chay leans in and kisses him and, yeah, Chay was right, this is nice. Chay’s lips are warm and soft against his and Kim responds to the kiss the best he can.

When Chay pulls back he’s smiling wide.

"This is great. Now I understand what the fuss was about." And he dives right back in. Kim lets Chay kiss him, kisses back even, but while this is nice, he does not get what the fuss is all about. It’s nice, warm and soft, and Chay is obviously enjoying himself and that means Kim is ready to do this for however long Chay wants to. He doesn’t mind adding this to their cuddle sessions.

After a while, Chay pulls back again, trying to catch his breath and Kim smiles, carding his fingers through Chay’s soft hair and down to his neck then back again. He feels warm and relaxed.

When Chay’s hand travels lower and goes for the button of his pants, Kim tenses and catches his wrist.

"Chay, wait." Chay pouts.

"But P’Kim. Don’t you want to?" He tries again with his other hand, which Kim has to catch too.

"Chay, no." Chay looks exactly like he did that time Kim took the last cookie and didn’t share it with him.

"Is it because I’m a virgin? I know I don’t have any experience but I can learn." He looks so eager.

"No, sweetheart, it’s not you."

"You can tell me what you like and I’ll do it." Chay is still trying to free his hands, reaching for Kim’s pants.

"I don’t know." That stops Chay.

"What?"

"I don’t know what I like, Chay."

"But…" Chay’s eyes are round in surprise.

"You’ve known me since I was sixteen. Have you ever seen me go out with someone?"

"No." Chay bites his lips. "But it’s not like we’re together all the time." Kim snorts. They kind of are except for when Chay is in school.

"Well, I’ve never been with anyone. In fact, you just stole my first kiss, sweetheart." He smiles up at Chay, who is still sitting in his lap.

"Oh." Chay whispers. Kim laughs.

"And let’s not forget that you’re only sixteen and Hia would probably kill me if I debauch you. Or let you debauch me, whichever."

"P’Kim." Chay groans, burying his face in Kim’s shoulder.

"Let’s just take it slow, okay? We’ve got time."

"Can we do more kisses, though? I like those, a lot."

"Yeah, sweetheart, come here." The kisses are nice.

And that’s how Porsche finds them when he gets home. Cuddling on the couch and exchanging soft, sweet kisses. He throws a knowing look at Chay, who is grinning like the cat that got the canary, and rolls his eyes at them but doesn’t comment.

Not until they are all eating dinner and Porsche says he wants them to keep separate bedrooms until Chay is eighteen. Kim chokes on his food.

(Chay moves all of Kim's things into his room, which is bigger, the day he turns eighteen. As a birthday present to himself, he says. Kim laughs and lies down on the bed to watch him reorganize everything.)

—

"Kim." Kim lets Kinn hug him, holding himself a little stiffly. Even after five years of steady affection from the Kittisawat brothers, he still gets overwhelmed sometimes.

You're alive, Kinn had whispered, tone awed. Has his family been thinking he's dead this whole time? Is that why he's been able to stay hidden for so long?

"Kim." His brother repeats, and Kim raises a hand to pat him awkwardly on the back. It's been so long since he saw Kinn. These days, the first person he associates with the term big brother is Porsche.

After a while, he disengages from Kinn's hold and heads towards the bar. He feels a little lightheaded and the distance between him and the bar seems bigger than it should. Porsche, still standing behind it, is holding out his phone to him and Kim can see the already connected call to Chay on the screen. He feels Kinn sticking close behind him but ignores it in favor of taking the phone and ducking behind the bar to sit down in the little nook on the right side. He distantly registers Porsche stopping Kinn from stepping behind the bar as well but most of his attention is on the phone. He doesn't say a word but Chay must know he's listening somehow because he starts chattering about things. How much he hates his biology homework. Pearl's latest funny fumble. What he's thinking of making for dinner. Little by little, his breathing goes back to normal. It's only then that he realizes how fast it had gotten.

"Chay." He says, interrupting his boyfriend.

"Hey, P'Kim, feeling better?" His sweet angel asks, like he didn't just talk Kim down from a panic attack through the phone.

"Thank you."

"I'll see you at home tonight. Love you."

"I love you too."

—

Days, weeks, months pass. His temporary truce with Vegas is going better than expected. Two years into it, Kinn realizes that it is not temporary at all and that he and his cousin have more in common than he likes to admit or even think about.

Kim's disappearance (he's not ready to say death, probably never will be) had forced both of them to reevaluate their priorities. Vegas is prepared to do a lot of things to make sure what happened doesn't get a repeat with Macau. And Kinn… Kinn thinks not even his cousin deserves to go through that so he'll protect the youngest Theerapanyakun to the best of his ability.

They are both extremely careful to keep their deal secret. Neither of their fathers can ever know.

—

Kinn feels Kim's breath become harsher, faster, just before his little brother pushes him away and walks, unsteady and stumbling, to the bar where Porsche (or Jom, or whatever his name is) is holding out a phone. Kim grabs it without a word and folds himself down behind the bar. Kinn wants to follow, doesn't want to let his little brother (alive, he's alive) out of his sight. But Porsche blocks his way and Kinn glares at him. The man is unphased so Kinn glares harder. Porsche laughs. What?

"Not used to people not folding down to your every whim, huh?" Kinn grumbles, leans forward to try to catch a glimpse of his brother.

"He's fine," Porsche says as he pats his shoulder. "Just give him a moment."

Kinn fidgets, jittery at not being able to see Kim. It's like if he can't see him, touch him, then he's not real.

"So, how much does it pay?" Porsche asks, not making sense.

"What?"

"The bodyguard position you want me to take. How much does it pay?"

"I… I don't know." He's never thought about it before.

"How the hell were you expecting to recruit me?" Porsche is laughing. Laughing at Kinn. Kinn has no idea how to handle this man. Who saved his life then stole his watch. Who flirts with him shamelessly. Who, apparently, knows Kinn's brother better than Kinn does. Who asks questions Kinn never thought to ask before. How much are his bodyguards paid to give up their life for him?

"By asking?" Even to his own ears that sounds weak. Before he can add anything or Porsche can answer, he hears a voice coming from where his brother had hidden himself.

"Chay." A pause. For whoever Chay is to answer, likely. "Thank you." Another pause. "I love you too." Kinn startles.

He hasn't heard Kim say those words since Mom died. It forces him to realize that Kim is no longer the sullen sixteen years old he was the last time Kinn saw him. Somehow, it never occurred to him that his brother's life could have gone on without them the same way theirs had gone on without him.

"Who is Chay?" He asks, as Kim slowly gets up and hands the phone back to Porsche. But it's Porsche, not Kim, who answers him.

"Porchay's my little brother. You should see them together. They're like two puppies. It's adorable." He says as he ruffles Kim's hair.

"Hia." Kim groans and Kinn has another realization. Kim has found himself another family. He never came home because he didn't need to. He has one, somewhere that's not with him and Tankhun.

"I should go." He says, a little numb, heading for the exit and signaling his bodyguards to move out.

"Wait, Kinn." His brother calls out.

"Don't worry. I won't tell papa." He doesn't turn around. Doesn't look back at his little brother, who might be alive but might not be his little brother anymore. He needs out, he needs to breathe.

—

Kim has been with the Kittisawats for over a year already. The relationship between the two is something that he finds endlessly fascinating. In the privacy of his own mind, he admits that he might be a little jealous.

He still startles every time they treat him the same way they treat each other. It takes him months to stop flinching every time Porsche comes up behind him unexpectedly. For some reason, he doesn't have the same issue with Porchay. Perhaps the younger boy just doesn't register as a threat to Kim. He's not entirely sure why since Kim knows he was most definitely dangerous at that age already.

But Porchay is soft and sweet, with a smile like the sun, and a quiet bravery that Kim wonders at and he already knows that should Porchay take a knife one day to bury it in Kim's back, Kim would accept it as his due.

There are days when he misses his brothers so fiercely that it's like a physical ache. It's like Kim is missing a limb and feeling the phantom pains of it. Some days, Porsche's presence makes the ache less, a little more dull. Those days, he clings to the older man in a way he's sure Porsche will find annoying. On other days, Porsche's presence is like fuel to the fire. Those days, he hides away in his room until Porchay comes to drag him out with smiles and chatter and questions.

The years pass and he comes to love both Porsche and Porchay fiercely, each in their own way, but the ache of missing Khun and Kinn never goes away.

—

Kim watches Kinn leave with barely a word to him and he wonders why Kinn hugged him so tightly if he cares so little.

Porsche's hand on his shoulder is a warm, reassuring weight.

—

When Kinn gets home, he spins a half-lie to his father about Porsche wanting more information on salary and benefits package before taking the job and then goes up to Tankhun’s room to… well, to hide.

He goes in, ignores Tankhun’s usual trio of bodyguards trying to untangle themselves from the pillow fort taking up most of the living room floor, toes off his shoes, and flops, in a very undignified manner, down into the aforementioned pillow fort. He buries his face into the first part of his big brother he can reach, which happens to be his stomach, and just, lets his mind go blank. Or tries to, anyway.

He can tell from the resonating silence, only broken by the sounds coming from the tv, that his entrance has disturbed the room’s occupant. It stretches for a time then Tankhun slides a hand into his hair, petting it softly, and the conversation he’d interrupted starts back up.

He stays like that for a long time, half lost in thoughts, half dozing off, until whatever the quartet had been watching on tv ends. He hears movement, sounds that hint at things being put back in their places from where they had been on the floor but he ignores it. His brother’s hand is still playing with his hair and Kinn feels warm and comfortable.

"It’s been a long time since you’ve come to me to hide in my skirts. Are you going to tell me what got you in such a state?" Tankhun asks, part teasing, part serious. Kinn swallows against the lumps in his throat. The last time had been… five years ago.

"I’m sorry." He whispers.

"Tch. I don’t mind. It’s quite nice to know I’m still useful. I’m just curious as to why." And now Kinn has something else to feel guilty about.

"No. Not for that." He falls silent, turning the words over in his mind and turning to look up at Tankhun. Whatever his brother sees in his eyes has him straightening from his slouched, relaxed posture. Kinn opens his mouth, closes it again, and sits up. He spots Arm, a respectful distance away, and signals him. Arm’s eyes widen and he goes to the painting of Tankhun that hangs on the wall close to the door, slips a hand underneath, then nods back at Kinn.

"Was that really necessary?" Tankhun asks, frowning. "Or are you about to finally fess up about your deal with Vegas?" Kinn’s mouth drops open.

"What? No."

"No, you don’t have a deal with the devil, or no, you won’t fess up?"

"No one is supposed to know about that! Papa…"

"Oh hush, Kinn. You think I don’t know how to keep secrets from papa? Of the two of us, which one has a scrambler in their room?" Not sure how he lost control of the conversation so fast, Kinn shakes his head.

"That’s not… We’ll come back to this later. That’s not what I wanted to tell you." The side trip this conversation has taken doesn’t make what he has to say any easier. Kinn takes a deep breath. "I’m sorry."

"So you’ve said. For what?"

"You were right. And I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold on to hope the way you did. But I shouldn’t have tried to make you give it up. I’m sorry."

"I’m often right. What are you… Hope? What? Kinn?" Tankhun’s hand grabs his and squeezes, hard. "Kinn?" He asks again, pleading.

"He’s alive, P’Khun. I’ve seen him. He’s alive." Tankhun’s grip is bruising but Kinn doesn’t care. A tear starts to make its way down his brother’s cheek, then another, then he’s sobbing in Kinn’s arms.

"Kim. Kim. Kim." Tankhun wails. "Where is he, Kinn? Where’s my baby brother?" Tankhun starts shaking him. "Why didn’t you bring him home?"

It takes some time but Kinn tells him the whole story of how fate had seen fit to bring Kim back to them, only for him to not be theirs anymore.

When he finishes, Tankhun wacks him over the head.

"Idiot, Kinn. Of course, he’s still ours. He’ll always be our baby brother. It’s just that he brought home two more brothers for us to love." Kinn rubs at the spot where Tankhun hit him and ponders his words. Two more brothers to love. Porsche’s smile and shameless flirting flash through his mind. Oh. He hears again Kim’s soft-spoken declaration of love and Porsche teasing. Oh. "You’re going back tomorrow and you’re bringing them home," Tankhun says and Kinn nods.

—

When Kinn walks into Hum Bar this time, he only has one bodyguard with him and another waiting with the car. It looks like a slow night, likely because it's the middle of the week but Porsche is there, behind the bar and serving cocktails to what looks like a bridal party already well on their way to getting spectacularly drunk.

He takes a seat at the end of the bar and waits, trying to see if he can spot Kim anywhere.

"He's not here," Porsche says, startling him, as he puts down a drink in front of Kinn. It's pink and garish looking.

"I didn't order that. And who's not here?" He says, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I'm trying out new recipes and you are my guinea pig for the evening," Porsche tells him, grinning wide. Kinn stares a little. That man's smile could eclipse the sun.

"Oh, am I?" He asks but picks up the glass to take a tentative sip. It's too sweet for his tastes but not bad overall.

"Yep." The p pops obnoxiously. "Think of it as your penance."

"My penance," Kinn says, raising an eyebrow. "For what?" Porsche leans on the bartop towards him, mood a lot more serious.

"You really hurt him yesterday." He says, voice low. Kinn feels guilt make a home in his chest.

"Ah. Which…hum…which part?"

"So you acknowledge that there are several things you could have done better?"

"It's been pointed out to me, yes."

"You left," Porsche says. "You acted like you were happy to see him and then you left, even after he asked you to wait."

"I… I came to the sudden, and a little unsettling, realization that my brother had a family I was not a part of. I needed time to process." He explains.

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Process."

"With some help, yes."

"Help from who?"

"My other brother." Kinn takes another sip of his drink. "This is not bad." Porsche smiles at him.

"It’s a love potion." Kinn chokes on his next swallow. Porsche laughs at him. Again. The man does that a lot. "Vodka, Peach schnapps, and I used raspberry juice instead of grapefruit. If it’s good, I’m gonna peddle it to the bridal party." As if summoned by the words, said bridal party starts hollering for more drinks. Porsche pushes away from Kinn and goes to serve them.

Kinn spends the next few hours watching Porsche work, flashy and assured. There are a few moments when Porsche gives him a new drink (each time a pink, fruity cocktail) that Kinn tries for him. By the time the bridal party winds down and the sparse crowd of the bar leaves, Kinn feels a bit drunk. Nothing much, just… relaxed and warm.

He keeps watching as Porsche wipes the counter and puts away clean glasses. He realizes with a start that the only three people left in the bar are Porsche, Kinn, and Kinn’s bodyguard who is sitting unobtrusively at the table closest to the door. He’s spent an entire evening watching a man make drinks. The man in question finishes his task, putting away the rag he’d used to wipe the counter, and smiles at Kinn.

This man is dangerous, Kinn thinks.

"Baht for your thoughts?"

"What?"

"The expression on your face makes me very curious as to what is going on in your head."

He could say you stole my brother. Or you are dangerous. Or I don’t know if I can trust you.

"You’re beautiful." Kinn hears himself saying instead. And Porsche, self-assured, cocky, brash Porsche, blushes.

—

Porsche has felt Kinn's eyes on him the entire night. After their conversation, the other man had watched him silently, accepting whichever drink Porsche saw fit to give him without protest. The attention is heady. If he's been putting an extra flourish into his cocktail-making all evening, well, he’s the only one working tonight so no one will tell.

Kinn's eyes are dark in the low light of the bar, unreadable. Porsche wonders what thoughts occupy his mind. He can't help asking.

"You're beautiful." Kinn's response is not what he expected and Porsche feels heat rise to his cheeks.

"Is that your way of buttering me up so I'll give you Kim's number?" He deflects.

"Maybe I want your number too." Shit. He left that one right open, didn't he?

"You'll have to work a little harder if you want mine."

"And my brother?"

"Come back tomorrow." Then Porsche shoos Kinn away and finishes closing down the bar.

He's still thinking about Kinn's dark eyes and the way he'd looked at Porsche when he gets home.

—

Kinn goes back every day.

—

It's about a year into his deal with Vegas. Two years since the last time he saw his little brother. Two years to the day. Kinn might be just a teensy bit drunk.

He doesn't react when someone drops onto the bench seat beside him. He does react when someone takes the whiskey bottle he's been steadily emptying.

"What are we celebrating?" Vegas asks as he pours himself a glass.

"Fuck off." Kinn slurs.

"Oh. I see." His cousin takes a sip of the whiskey. "Not bad. Shame to be using a vintage like that the way you are."

"Fuck off," Kinn repeats, in case Vegas hadn't heard him the first time.

"I don't think I will." Vegas falls silent after that, drinking his whiskey at a measured pace. Kinn downs his glass and pours himself another. The silence stretches while Vegas slowly finishes his drink. "That old boytoy of yours has been sniffing around lately." He says when he puts down the empty glass.

"Who?" Kinn has no idea who Vegas is talking about.

"That twink you were screwing in college. What's his name again?" Kinn blinks at him, uncomprehending.

"What?"

"Shit. You're so fucking plastered." It takes Kinn a while to parse the words, English isn't his strongest suit. Also, yeah, being drunk doesn't help. Kinn swallows half of the contents of his glass. He's not drunk enough if he can still think.

"What do you want?" Kinn slurs.

"Nothing you can give me right now. You’re so drunk."

"Not drunk enough." He mumbles, downing the rest of his glass and reaching for the bottle. Vegas keeps it out of his reach, the asshole. "Gimme."

"You can barely sit straight and you’re slurring your words. How is that not drunk enough?"

"Can still think," Kinn says. And, fuck, he must be drunker than he thought if he’s saying that out loud. Vegas looks at him silently for a beat, then pours him another glass.

"Yeah, okay." He pours himself a second glass and leans back into the seat. "You’re going to regret this so much in the morning. And I’m going to hold it over your head forever." Kinn drinks his glass in a couple of long swallows and feels himself tip sideways. He can’t muster up the strength to care when he ends up leaning against Vegas, head dropping on his shoulder.

"I miss him." He whispers.

"Yeah. Me too. He was the only one of you who was worth anything." Vegas keeps switching between English and Thai and Kinn’s soaked brain can’t keep up. He gives it up as a bad job and reaches for the bottle again.

"I’ll protect him." He says while Vegas fills up his glass again. He feels him freeze against his side. "I’ve already lost my little brother. I won’t let anything happen to yours. I promise."

"I know." He barely hears Vegas’ words, he whispers them so softly.

It’s the last thing Kinn remembers of that night.

—

Kinn doesn’t react when someone drops into the seat beside him. He’s been wondering how long it would take Vegas to show up.

"This isn’t your usual scene, cousin. What’s got you so interested that you’d come here every day?" Kinn glances behind him. Today is Pete’s day off, which means… Yes, sitting at the table by the door with Ken and making small talk, is Pete, waiting for whatever business Vegas has with Kinn to be done.

"What can I get you?" Porsche asks from behind the bar and Kinn turns his attention back to him. Porsche isn’t talking to him however, he’s looking at Vegas. Porsche hasn’t asked Kinn what he wanted since, well ever. Even that first time, he’d just made Kinn a drink without Kinn’s input. For some reason, Kinn is pleased by that. That Porsche doesn’t need to ask.

"Red wine. And your number, sweet thing." Kinn feels very vindicated when Porsche bursts into laughter.

"One red wine, coming up." Vegas looks put out but wipes the expression away when he turns to Kinn.

"Is this why you’ve been coming here?"

"It’s part of the appeal. You and Pete still looking to add a third to your little games?" Vegas ignores the question.

"I’ll admit, I expected to find you way deeper into the bottle by now." He says instead. It takes Kinn a full thirty seconds to figure out what he means. Because he… forgot, barely a week and he’d forgotten already.

"Why’s that?" Porsche asks as he sets a glass of red wine in front of Vegas. He settles against the bar, leaning forward in his usual way. Kinn glances at the rest of the room and sees that the other bartender has the sparse mid-week crowd well in hand.

"Nosy," Vegas says.

"It’s the anniversary of my little brother’s disappearance," Kinn says. He sees surprise paint itself across Vegas’s face at the admission. Porsche hums thoughtfully.

"I see. I guess it makes sense now."

"What makes sense?" Vegas asks, frowning, looking at Porsche intently. Probably wondering how many secrets Kinn has spilled to this unknown bartender.

"Why I wanted to come today." The voice comes from behind them and Kinn spins in his seat so fast he almost loses his balance. He sees Vegas do the same beside him but he only has eyes for his little brother.

"Kim." He breathes out. Kinn wants to rush over and hug him but Kim isn’t alone. There’s a young boy, who looks to be around Kim’s age or younger, standing with him. From how close they are standing and the way their arms wound around each other’s waists, Kinn guesses this must be Porchay. He certainly looks enough like Porsche to be his brother.

"Kinn." Kim nods at him. "Vegas." His tone is a lot colder when he addresses their cousin. Vegas still hasn’t said a word, he looks thrown and Kinn thinks he hasn’t seen so many emotions openly visible on his face since they were kids.

"Chay." Porchay chirps, breaking the tension. Kim smiles so softly at his boyfriend that Kinn feels like he’s intruding somehow. Vegas shakes himself out of whatever was keeping him silent just as Pete inserts himself at his side.

"I see the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated, cousin," Vegas says. He turns to Kinn. "I guess it’s time." Pete tenses at this side and Kim scowls.

"Time for what?" Kim asks, his voice harsh. Vegas is busy rubbing Pete’s back so Kinn answers for him.

"The two of us have been gathering what we need to take over the families for about four years now. We have everything but we were waiting for the right time." He explains. "You being here and papa’s weird insistence that Porsche be hired as my bodyguard means I don’t think we can wait much longer."

"Should I go back and tell Khun-nu?" Pete asks from where he’s tucked into Vegas’s side. Kinn shakes his head.

"No. I’ll talk to Khun. Stay with Vegas."

"But…" Pete protests.

"No, Pete. Your job in all this is to protect Macau. He’s your only priority." Pete nods, obviously torn between his duty as Tankhun’s head bodyguard and the mission both Kinn and Vegas have given him in their planned coup.

"Why Macau?" Kim asks.

"Because he’s more or less the lynchpin of our deal," Vegas says.

"I’d already lost you. I wasn’t about to let whatever happened to you happen to someone else. Macau is family. He’s the youngest of us. He needs to be protected." Kinn adds.

"And you’re what… going to kill our father? Because he’s not going to just let you take over the family." Kim asks.

"If that’s what it comes to then yes." Kim looks overwhelmed at Kinn's words.

"But you loved our father…" He trails off.

"I still do. I also hate him for how little he cares for his sons. For how little he cares for anything but his own power, despite the benevolent facade he likes to present to the world." Kinn itches to hug his little brother, to wipe that lost expression off his face. He’s not so focused on Kim that he doesn’t notice when the boy by his side uses Kim’s distraction to propel him forward. Kinn's arms are already open when Kim stumbles into him and he sends a look of thanks to Porchay before closing his eyes and his arms around his brother.

—

It takes Kinn almost a week to remember, then parse, the conversation he had with Vegas. In his defense, the hangover had been epic and his father had expressed his displeasure at Kinn’s "sentimentality" (read, actually cares that his little brother is still missing after two years) by sending him to negotiate a deal with the Italians. Dealing with Don with the pulsing headache he’d been nursing had been excruciating.

When he does remember, he takes a few more days to wrestle with the embarrassment then he goes to meet with Vegas. They have some well-established ways to contact each other secretly and trusted meeting places away from their respective fathers' eyes by now. Some days, Kinn feels like he’s in a fucked up cross between a spy novel and a star-crossed lover romance novel. (And just that thought in relation to his cousin has Kinn shuddering in revulsion and fighting back nausea.)

If Vegas had felt the need to mention Tawan to him almost two years after their breakup then there must be something going on. (Kinn’s relationship with Tawan had quickly sunk after Kim’s disappearance. Tawan had argued that Kinn wasn’t spending enough time with him because he was spending too much time searching for his brother and Kinn had dropped him like a hot coal.)

There aren’t many bodyguards he trusts enough to take with him on these outings and today’s lucky winner is Pete.

A few weeks later, after the whole clusterfuck with Tawan and the Italians (and the fucking Yakuza, what the hell had Tawan been thinking to involve himself with the Yakuza) is over, Kinn isn’t sure whether that was a curse or a blessing. Tawan is most thoroughly dead, Kinn made sure of that when he put a bullet in his head, and Pete has forever won Vegas’ approval by saving Macau when Tawan had tried to use the kid to get Vegas to turn on Kinn. (There might be more than approval in the way Vegas looks at Pete but Kinn is going to practice the ostrich technique on that one.)

—

The coup, when it happens, is almost anti-climactic.

Four years of planning bear fruit in the best way as Kinn and Vegas simultaneously take over the major and minor compounds with the help of the bodyguards whose loyalty they’d secured over loyalty to their fathers. A good chunk of the remaining ones lay down arms in the face of it and the rest are quickly dispatched.

Kan is killed by Pete when he’d tried to use Macau as leverage against Vegas.

Korn is killed by Chan, of all people, when it becomes clear that the coup is an internal thing and that both Kinn and Tankhun are in agreement. Kinn can’t help but be relieved that he didn’t have to pull the trigger (even after everything, he never could quite let go of his love for his father).

(The fact that his father didn’t so much have skeletons in his closet as a whole live person in his freaking secret attic room is something that Kinn will leave to deal with later. Chan has it well in hand for now.)

The business part of the takeover follows without a hitch.

—

"P’Khun?"

"Yes, nong."

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

"Of course. You don’t usually ask though, is everything alright?" Kim simply nods as he settles on the couch next to his brother. Tankhun is watching yet another series and Kim just lets the noise of it wash over him as he leans back and lets his head fall on Tankhun’s shoulder, eyes closed.

The bag in his room is packed and ready. Tomorrow, instead of his school books, what he’ll take with him is a few changes of clothes and as much cash as he could fit in the bag. Tomorrow, when he leaves the house in the car taking him to school it will be for the last time. Tomorrow, he’s leaving this life, this house, and his brothers behind. One of these hurts more than the others.

Less than a month ago, Kim turned sixteen. The celebrations were extravagant, as befits a son of the Theerapayakun family. The next day, he was called into his father’s office and the new duties expected of him were laid out to him.

It took some time to gather what he needed. His courage mostly, because his father will be furious and, if he is caught, the punishment will be painful. But he has everything and, tomorrow, Kim is leaving.

So tonight is for goodbyes, not that Tankhun knows that. Kim wishes Kinn could be there too but their relationship has been strained lately. Kinn has more and more duties to attend to as the heir, and university (and his new boyfriend) take up the rest of his time.

Kim lets his brother’s warmth seep into him. Lets himself be lulled into sleep by the atmosphere of these rooms, the safest in the entire compound.

Tomorrow is another day.

—

"Well? Are you going to introduce me?" Tankhun huffs impatiently, standing in the lobby in all his over-the-top glory, and Kim feels tears cloud his vision. The last time he saw his brother was the day before he ran away from home and he has missed him like a limb. He stumbles forward and into his brother’s arms. His brother catches him easily, the way he always has.

"P’Khun." It’s muffled by the fact that Kim’s face is squished into Tankhun’s shoulder but his brother must hear him because the embrace tightens.

They stay like that for a long time and when Kim pulls back he feels a bit embarrassed by the display even though no one has commented on it.

"P’Khun, this is Porsche and Porchay." He introduces, as asked. "They helped me out a few months after I left and I’ve been staying with them since." He turns to the two he just introduced and continues. "Hia, Chay, this is my oldest brother Tankhun." Both of them smile at Tankhun, Chay chirping a greeting along with a small wai. Tankhun seems laser-focused on both of them for a time then nods decisively.

"Hmmm. You’ll do." He says, pointing to Porsche. Then he sweeps in and squishes Chay’s face between his palms. Chay squeaks in surprise. "And you, look at you, so cute." He says, squishing harder until Chay’s mouth is all puckered out. "Don’t worry, big brother Tankhun is here now. I’m going to take care of you." Porsche squawks at the implication that his own big brotherly skills are not up to par and Kim can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him.

He is home.