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Kim didn’t mind Macau.
He knew Tankhun held a grudge against the boy solely because he was Vegas’ brother and he was committed to support Kinn in every way possible, even if it meant partaking in his never-ending feud with Vegas.
He was also aware Kinn didn’t give their younger cousin much thought at all, most of his attention focused on his older brother, trying to predict his every move — at least, that was how things used to be, before Gun died and Vegas came close enough and everything changed.
Kim, though, tried to steer away from their family’s internal war as much as he could. More than that, he actually thought of Macau as one of his less draining relatives to be around.
Kim hadn’t seen him often after moving out of the main family compound, but he had plenty of pleasant memories of their childhood: hours and hours spent playing together while their fathers met for long and tense negotiations. While Vegas and Kinn competed for everything and anything (who could swing the highest, who could run the fastest, who was smarter), Kim and Macau would build Legos, read stories and play hide and seek.
They were the youngest of their families, easily forgotten by their own parents, only ever born as spares in case their older brothers failed to come through.
They also shared the certainty that the need to rise up would never come because their siblings wouldn’t allow it to. Kim was perfectly aware Kinn would prefer to submit to whatever games Korn set into motion than let Kim take his place. Besides, as little as he cared about Vegas’ schemes, he also knew hell would freeze over before any harm came for Macau, much less the Minor Family’s heir position.
In that very specific and completely atypical way, Kim and Macau were the same.
Kim would argue that’s where their similarities ended. Kim had sharpened himself into a weapon that could protect his family from afar, using the Wik persona as his only balsam.
Macau had done the complete opposite. He had attached himself to Vegas completely and was the only one allowed inside his walls for years. He had become twice as bratty and stubborn as Vegas himself just to makeshift a sense of levity for their lives.
Macau mastered deceit and feigned ignorance. Kim ruled coldness and violence. Two sides of the same coin, but different all the same.
All that being said, he was definitely the least troubling family member to be kidnapped with.
Tankhun would spiral into panic, rather understandably so, leaving Kim too freaked out to protect him properly. Kinn being kidnapped would raise the stakes far too much. Vegas would most likely drive the captors mad enough to kill them both. Porsche would be so incredibly annoying Kim would beg the kidnappers to finish him after the first hour.
And Chay-
He didn’t even want to think about Chay being taken again.
So, all things considered, Macau wasn’t that bad of a captivity companion.
“Who do you think it is this time?” Macau murmured under his breath when silence stretched between them for a long time, sounding almost bored, “The Italians? Or the Russians… Maybe the Triad? The Yakuza has been weirdly quiet lately.”
Kim tilted his head to stare at Macau, who was shackled to the opposite wall a few feet away, out of Kim’s reach to avoid any attempt of a joint escape. He suggested, “Maybe it’s another one of Kinn’s dead exes.”
Macau chuckled, “That would explain why I’m here.” Kim squinted his eyes at him in confusion, as Macau completed, “Most of them are Vegas’ exes too.”
Kim’s lips curled up into a grin against his will. Macau noticed and smirked back, satisfied.
He tried to maneuver himself out of his shackles one more time, to no avail. His ribs protested urgently against any further moment, still painful and sore. His feet were also bound tightly together, not giving Kim the space he needed to break free.
His guess was that they had been there for nearly two hours. Kim had been ambushed on his way to the studio when his car took an unusual path due to construction work. He had felt uneasy with the unexpected change of plans, but assumed he was being paranoid… And then his car was hit out of nowhere in a completely empty street.
The three bodyguards trailing him that day had been taken out with well-practiced shots before they could even call for backup.
He was still dizzy from the impact when two men roughly pulled him out of the wrecks and into an unknown vehicle. Someone had pressed a cloth against his mouth and Kim’s worn-out consciousness quickly gave in.
He had woken up in that suffocating windowless room with Macau immobilized across from him.
His cousin had briefly recounted his own abduction — after school, when he left to have lunch and his bodyguards were overpowered in the parking lot.
“It doesn’t matter, though.” Macau spoke again, ceasing the conjectures floating around Kim’s mind for a moment.
“What do you mean?” Kim questioned.
“Who took us.” Macau provided easily in a leveled tone. “Vegas will skin them alive soon enough.”
Kim huffed under his breath, mesmerized by the peace of mind his cousin was trying to present and fully aware he was correct. “I suppose he will have to find us first.”
“He told me to text him once I got out of school. I was taken before I could do it, so he definitely knows something’s up by now.” Macau replied, resting his head against the wall.
“That’s why you’re so calm, then.” Kim commented, momentarily stopping his struggle with the chains. He distantly thought it must be nice to feel so confident in the fact someone would notice your absence, that they would come running to your aid.
Kim spent most of his time not talking — and certainly not texting — his brothers, so he supposed it wouldn’t be fair to expect them to realize he had been taken.
Yet, all reason aside, Macau’s easy belief in Vegas made his insides turn, something awfully similar to envy sinking its claws into his stomach.
Some part of Kim also wanted to be found — rescued even.
He pushed that part aside — the one that still reminisced of being picked up in Khun’s arms after scrapping a knee or being guided by Kinn’s trusting hand as he rode a bike.
“I just like our chances.” Macau shrugged to the best of his abilities, despite his immobilized upper body.
His cousin grinned, a new joke certainly about to drop from his mouth, but whatever he had been about to say never saw the light of day. His smile faltered rather quickly when they heard a gunshot in the distance, followed by screams and the crippling sound of people running.
“Kim, what—” Macau tried to ask, his eyes wide as more gunshots sounded over their heads.
“I don’t know!” Kim shouted back, trying to make himself heard amidst all the noise. In his mind, there were only two possible outcomes for what they were hearing: the hideout had either been invaded by a rival gang and they were about to die caught up in their captors’ war or...
The place was indeed being invaded, but not by just any enemy. There was a chance the shots were being fired by people far more dangerous.
Kim could only assume Vegas must have located Macau, like his cousin had been sure he would. If that was the case, then Vegas was currently on a killing rampant upstairs to get his brother back and would be more than surprised to find Kim had been taken with him.
“I can’t die in here!” Macau shouted, breathless and desperate. He was struggling against the shackles, completely panicked.
“You’re not dying.” Kim stated in a final tone. “Maybe it is our people who—” More shots rang and muffled Kim’s poor attempt at easing Macau’s despair.
Not more than a few minutes could have passed (incredibly dragged-out minutes that Kim spent trying and failing to get Macau to calm down) when the sound of hurried footsteps invaded Kim’s ears, close enough to overwhelm the shouts from upstairs.
Then, the heavily secured door across from Kim was busted open by three bodyguards that almost dropped to their knees with the effort.
He stared at the men in disbelief, doubting what his own eyes were seeing. Maybe the crash had given him a concussion and he was starting to hallucinate, maybe this wasn’t even real—
“They’re here!” One of the men screamed, walking back into the hallway and repeating the same message on his comms along with their exact location. The remaining two guards began to search the room, looking for any possible threats, as the third remained outside.
So the whole ordeal was not a fragment of Kim’s imagination, after all.
Kim was about to ask Macau if he was okay, and also tell the two guards they were alone and their efforts would be better utilized setting them free, when the man keeping guard at the door was roughly pushed out of the way to make room for Vegas.
There was blood dripping from his hands and clothes, but none of it seemed to be his own. Despite the red coloring his fingers, his grip was strong on the gun he carried.
Vegas stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of Macau, his eyes scanning the room for any immediate threats, laying on Kim for a single second before fixating on the two guards still inside.
The youngest one gulped significantly, seeming scared to death of being in Vegas’ presence, so the oldest stepped forward and informed the room was clear.
“Get out.” Vegas ordered.
The two guards remained still, eyes shifting back and forth from Vegas to Kim, evidently hesitant to leave him alone in Vegas’ presence, probably fearing a murder attempt.
Still, Kim knew better.
Vegas wanted them to leave because he was about to lose his shit over Macau’s well-being, and he’d rather shoot these men dead than allow them to witness him experiencing a single emotion.
His older cousin seemed to have the same impression. His voice rose slightly as his finger hovered over the trigger, “I said, get the fuck out of here—”
“Go. It’s fine.” A firm voice sounded from the doorstep, cutting through the heavy atmosphere of the room.
Kim’s eyes snapped away from Vegas for the first time since he had appeared to look towards the voice’s direction.
His eyes fell on a tall figure looming over the door frame, fair skin colored red by blood and sweat, thick eyebrows pressed together into a scowl that sent the two men hurrying out of the room to disappear into the hallway as murmurs of “Khun Kinn” and “sorry” faded away.
Kinn was there.
Kim blinked, untrusting of his own eyes.
Vegas had rushed to his brother and bent down to lay a kiss on his head, whispering into Macau’s hair for a moment before pulling a knife out to start working on releasing the boy from his bounds.
The Kinn lookalike Kim wasn’t entirely sure he hadn’t imagined moved towards him with the same urgency, picking up a knife out of his suit to fulfill a similar task.
“Why are you here?” Kim hadn’t meant for those to be the first words out of his mouth... And yet pain and exhaustion seemed to have fried his brain, causing his mouth to work on its own.
Kinn flinched slightly and looked up once he managed to crack open the shackles bounding Kim to the wall behind him. “I’m here to rescue you, obviously.”
Kim’s eyes squinted as Kinn worked on a particularly difficult lock. “How did you even know I was here?”
He doubted Vegas had intel on Kim being taken to persuade Kinn into helping and he wasn’t even expected at the compound today. It was too early for anyone back at his condo security team to be concerned about him. His bodyguards were not expected to report back to Kinn. In fact, Kim forbade them from doing it, knowing his dad could easily use that sort of knowledge against him if the need ever arose.
It didn’t make any sense for Kinn to be there, hence Kim’s blunt questioning just a moment ago.
“As soon as one of our men alerted me you didn’t show up for your recording session two minutes after Vegas appeared at my doorstep accusing Pa of kidnapping Macau, I knew you must have been taken together—”
“What would become of us if it weren’t for your mighty intellect, I wonder.” Vegas retorted in a dull voice as he pulled Macau’s feet free.
Kinn managed to roll his eyes at the same time he used his knife to crack Kim’s handcuffs open, but surprisingly refrained himself from snapping back.
“One of our men?” Kim repeated, deeply confused. “My guards are dead-”
Kinn’s mouth tensed into a thin line before he cut him off, “Not those men.” He looked at Kim, who was baffled and confused, and explained in a calm, even tone, “I pay one of the studio’s receptionists to inform me if you don’t show up to one of your appointments.”
Kim’s eyes widened considerably, his face probably the perfect picture of existential torment as he stared at his brother. “You do what now?”
“Don’t act all innocent. You’ve done far worse when it comes to invading people’s privacy.” Kinn retorted, ignoring Kim’s shock as he moved to cut the rope around his brother’s feet. Kim felt a very childish urge to stomp his feet and argue, even though he knew his brother was right. He pinned it down to the concussion he was most definitely nursing.
“Why would you do that?” He chose to ask instead.
Kinn huffed, “Isn’t it obvious?” Kim simply stared at him, silently stating the fact nothing about this whole day had been obvious. “You don’t tell anyone anything. So I need to find other ways of making sure you’re safe.”
Kim gulped, refraining from saying anything else. He did not trust his voice not to shake.
Trying to push his astonishment away, Kim tilted his head to observe as Macau’s hands were released and his younger cousin threw himself into Vegas’ arms, nearly launching the two of them into the ground. Vegas was precariously crouching in front of his brother to help him out of his shackles and was obviously caught by surprise, but managed to fall to his knees and keep Macau safely tucked into his chest.
Macau’s whole body was shaking, finally revealing that, despite his well presented front of nonchalance and easy confidence, Macau had been terrified the whole time they were kept there. What truly struck him, though, was the tension immediately leaving Vegas’ shoulders as he held Macau and mumbled soothing words, rocking him back and forth as one would a toddler.
Kim dragged his eyes away, finding himself too uncomfortable to continue watching. It felt like he was intruding upon something and he figured Macau had had enough of that for the day. He distantly noticed he couldn’t feel his hands, the blood flow probably cut off. Pain was flaring up his chest now, enough of it to cloud his vision.
Kinn had released his feet while Kim had been focused on their cousins and was bending forward to check his brother’s body for any injuries. Kim’s eyes dropped to his hands as Kinn carefully touched them, bringing them into his lap.
Kinn’s fingers worked slowly, massaging the reddened and numb skin for long moments as it started to come back to life. The gentle touch brought to the forefront of his mind flashes of old memories Kim had thought forgotten, each of them bringing forth a pain more excruciating than the last: his mom’s hands massaging his pulses after a long piano lesson, Tankhun applying cream to Kinn’s hands in the aftermath of a rough mission, Kinn cleaning their mom’s blood off Kim’s nails the day she was killed—
Kim tentatively flexed his fingers and felt stings spreading through his muscles, an unpleasant but welcome ache driving the echos of his past away for the time being.
Kinn’s eyes darted over from Kim’s hands to the rest of his body, focusing on the uneven heaving of his chest. Kim could feel sweat dripping from his temples as he struggled to hold in grunts of pain.
“You cracked your ribs.” Kinn muttered in a final tone.
Kim scowled, “Are you a doctor now?”
Kinn released a sharp breath before deliberately ignoring his brother’s remark, “Can you walk?”
“Yes.” Kim grunted without a second thought. Kinn’s thick eyebrows joined at the center of his face in a clear expression of disbelief, but he said nothing.
He seemed to be picking his battles today. Good for him. Kim could rarely ever say the same about himself.
He settled his hands by his sides with every intention of using their impulse to pull his body up.
With a grunt, he pathetically fell back into the ground after barely lifting himself off the floor.
Kinn bit his lip rather forcefully to hold in a chuckle and Kim was deeply grateful Vegas was too concerned about Macau to lay testimony to the scene.
“I swear to God I’ll shoot you myself if you laugh.” Kim murmured, careful to keep his voice down.
“I wouldn’t dare.” His brother responded, shaking his head with a tight smile tugging at his lips. His voice was lighter, despite the precarious situation they were in.
The ache consuming his upper body and clouding his thoughts was probably to blame for it, he was sure, but Kim felt the sudden urge to smile back.
He barely kept it under control as Kinn hauled him into his arms and pulled him up in one swift motion. He released him rapidly, seeming to give Kim’s body a chance to try and keep itself stable.
But Kim’s knees buckled, dormant and heavy. Kinn caught him easily, before he could hit the ground again. With a heavy sigh, he slid one arm over Kim’s shoulders and, before his brother had a chance to protest, passed the other under his knees, lifting his brother off the ground.
“Put me down, you fucking idiot.” Kim cursed out loud enough to burst Macau and Vegas’ bubble.
Somewhere in the distance, Kim noticed the noises had quieted down, their bodyguards undoubtedly taking care of their kidnappers.
“You can’t keep yourself up, Kim. Don’t be stubborn.” Kinn argued, holding on even tighter when Kim tried to release himself.
Vegas snarled, a sound dangerously close to laughter escaping him. Macau was laying against his shoulder, most of his weight supported by his older brother.
He was also smiling like a little shit.
“Kinn’s right. There’s no shame in needing help, P’Kim.” His voice was deliberately sweet and calm. Kim wanted to lunge at his neck.
“Fuck you, Macau.” Tankhun was right in the end, he decided: Macau was an unbearable brat and Kim would—
“Vegas,” Kinn chimed in, sounding cordial, albeit with some struggle. “Pete’s upstairs with Porsche, he must be waiting for news from Macau.”
The smirk safely tucked in Vegas’ lips trembled for a moment, the only visible signal he had even heard Kinn at all before he grabbed hold of Macau more strongly and strode out of the room.
Momentarily stricken by the sheer oddness of Vegas’ retrieval, Kim stopped trying to struggle out of his brother’s hold. It was not every day he watched Vegas choose someone else over a chance of tormenting the Main Family.
“I knew he’d bend as soon as I brought up Pete.” Kinn commented as he walked towards the only door of the suffocating room, shrugging his shoulders, a task made more difficult by Kim’s weight being supported by his arms.
Which reminded Kim of the reason why their whole argument had begun.
“I’m serious, put me down. I can walk.” Kim argued, fully aware he was lying through his teeth.
Unfortunately for him, Kinn seemed to have noticed the same thing. He stopped walking and warned, “We can do this the easy way or the difficult, annoying way. You choose.”
He refused to be reasoned with in the same tone Kinn used back when he was six. In fact, he even told him as much. Kinn chuckled slightly, “Just pretend you’re still six and I’m carrying you because you are too tired to go to bed by yourself.” Kinn offered, avoiding Kim’s gaze. His voice was muffled by some covert emotion Kim couldn’t quite pin down. “You’re tired, after all, aren’t you?”
Kim went over the question for a moment, reading so much into it he began to fear he was experiencing a stroke instead of a simple concussion, “Yeah,” he finally replied, “I am.”
He was physically drained and in pain, yes, but he was also tired: of all the lies he kept, his schemes and his masks, of his father’s shadow lurking over his shoulder no matter how far he ran, of the dread eating away at him every time he pictured Kinn stepping into a room full of people that wanted him dead.
His silence seemed to give away more than he intended to. Kinn held him even closer to his chest, muttering over his breath, “Then rest.”
He looked down at him and it finally struck Kim. The emotion hidden away on his brother’s face, the one he had tried and failed to understand before, was wistfulness.
Just some moments ago, Kim had naively wished to be saved. To be protected.
It hadn’t occurred to him that perhaps Kinn wanted to protect. That maybe he missed the days of scraped knees and easy laughter when he could be the one saving others instead of the one being saved.
Kim stopped trying to get away. He didn’t completely relax his body either — the whole situation was far too alien and absurd for it to be possible, but he did lay his head hesitantly against Kinn’s shoulder. It wouldn’t hurt to make the trip a bit more comfortable if he’d have to suffer through it regardless.
Kinn’s chest evened out at the motion, its steady motion luring Kim’s heartbeat into slowing down as well. Then, he stepped out and Kim noticed there were more bodyguards stationed outside the room now.
Through half-lidded eyes, Kim watched as one of them stepped towards Kinn, arms stretched out as he offered to carry Kim.
“I’ll take him.” Kinn stated firmly, immediately sending the guard back into his previous position. “Just get us to the car. Now.”
Before Kinn had even finished talking, the men around them had already moved into formation, surrounding them and moving as one through a maze of different halls and doors.
When they stepped outside, Kim noticed there was still some lingering sunlight. It didn’t take long for them to reach the car and, after some careful maneuvering, Kim was tucked into the backseat as one of the guards tailing them took over the wheels and another the passenger seat.
“Call the compound and tell them to have a medical team waiting at the doors when we get there.” Kinn barked the orders, keeping an arm around Kim’s shoulder, his younger brother’s back resting against his chest. “Let Porsche know as well.”
Kim tried to wiggle out of the embrace, weirded out by the merge of familiarity and awkwardness that invaded his body, but Kinn simply held him in place, unbothered.
“It’s fine, Kim.” His brother muttered, his voice quiet and soft.
In a haze, Kim realized it had been years since Kinn had spoken to him like that. “Just stay still, we’ll be home soon.”
Kim wanted to laugh at his face.
The compound wasn’t home, hadn’t been for a very long time now.
Home had once meant lazy Sunday mornings with his mom playing the piano while he sang, late nights of sharing giggles and secrets in Tankhun’s room, summer days spent swimming alongside Kinn.
If he felt less like his chest was trying to strangle his lungs and never allow oxygen in again, he’d have said so. He’d have snapped at Kinn and worked him up the way only he knew how.
Instead, he remained quiet because speaking demanded effort and he had none left to give.
Now, home meant an empty apartment filled with secrets and schemes, the type of place that never made Kim long to return to. So, he settled for allowing Kinn to do as he pleased. He owned him as much.
Kinn had come for him, after all. He had bribed a random employee to keep him on the loop about Kim’s schedule and rushed to his rescue the moment he learned something was wrong.
He should be furious. He should demand to be left alone, the way he had always preferred to be.
Kinn brought his hand to Kim’s hair, carefully pushing it away from his forehead before using his shirtsleeves to wipe away the sweat pooling there.
Kim didn’t mean to, but he leaned into the touch once Kinn threaded his fingers through his hair, gently driving the residual tension out of his worn-out body.
“You’re such a little shit.” His brother muttered over his breath. Despite the blatant complaint, Kinn held Kim’s body in place when the car took a sharp turn, so it didn’t slip off the backseat.
Then, Kinn went silent for a moment, eyes gazing Kim’s face in a guarded expression, difficult to read both due to the pain fogging Kim’s mind and the awkward angle.
“I’m glad I made it in time.” Kinn murmured eventually. Kim knew what he really meant: I’m glad you’re safe, I’m glad I wasn’t too late, like Pa was for Tankhun and for Ma.
“I’m glad you came.” Kim whispered back, unsure of why they were speaking in such hushed tones, as if they were admitting to shameful secrets. If he were more in control of himself, he could probably string together an explanation involving their father, his lessons and games, but Kim’s too far gone for that.
“Of course I did.” Kinn replied evenly, his jaw clenching into place as the car approached the compound’s entrance. Once it came to a stop, he told their driver and fellow colleague to step away, as more guards and medics came towards the car in a hurry.
Kinn lifted a hand to stop their motion, his ring flashing under the sunlight, a solid reminder of all the reasons why the two of them could never say what they really meant, why Kim had doubted his family would even notice his absence.
“I’ll help you out of the car and have you examined by our doctors. I do think they’ll tell you to spend the night in the infirmary, but, if you really want to go back to your condo, I can arrange for that.” Kinn offered, helping Kim into a seating position.
Kim flickered his eyes back to his brother, conscious of the hand against his back and the tight grip of Kinn’s fingers around his jacket. His brother seemed cautious and hesitant, like someone would come and take Kim away again at any moment.
He was scared, Kim realized.
Maybe it was because Kim had been abducted, but it couldn’t have been just that. With the lives they led, violence was the default, not the exception.
Kim’s mind was slower than usual, but it caught up eventually. All the years he had spent by his brother’s side, before he became the warded-up heir besides him, helped undo the mist of deception lingering behind every action of Kinn’s.
He was scared because Kim had been taken and he wouldn’t even have known if a complete stranger hadn’t been paid to give him intel on his little brother’s whereabouts.
It wasn’t the most fucked up thing about their family, but it was still a low blow. For both of them, apparently.
Kim didn’t know how to fix that — he wasn’t even sure he could. So, he didn’t try to. Instead, he told Kinn, “It’s fine. I can spend the night.”
Kinn’s eyes widened and, although he refrained from making any further comments, his relief was evident in the way his shoulders relaxed and he eagerly opened the car door to help Kim step out.
By the time the sun set, Kim had been properly patched up, with no concussions at all, and told to stay under the medical team’s surveillance for the next twenty-four hours. Tankhun had set camp by his bedside and fretted over him until finally falling asleep on a makeshift extra bed in the corner of the room. He had offered his brother a spot on his massive hospital bed, but Khun had been worried about moving in his sleep and accidentally hurting him. Kim had to admit it was a reasonable concern: Tankhun was always expansive, even when unconscious.
Khun even gifted him a brand-new phone since his former one had been destroyed in the crash. Luckily his chip had been salvaged and his number remained the same, which allowed him to scroll through the list of contacts until landing on the one he was searching for.
Kim pondered for some long seconds, debating whether he should go through with what was hovering his mind, finally deciding to take a chance and to blame any poor outcomes on the drugs in his system.
Hey, Macau. It’s Kim.
He stopped for a second and muttered to himself, “Of course he knows it’s me.”
Rolling his eyes at the plain stupidity of his opening message, he continued to type. Just wanted to check if you made it home alright.
Realizing Macau wasn’t online, he added, You’re probably asleep now, anyway.
Kim stared at his bright cellphone screen, his eyes tired and hands sore. Fuck’s sake, why was it so damn hard to just say what you wanted to in this bloody family? Why did they always need to run circles around each other?
And why did he care so much about how the family worked, after all? Kim was his own person. He wasn’t Kinn and he certainly wasn’t Khun. Their intrigues and pettiness were their own. As long as his brothers remained safe, he could do whatever he wanted.
He could text his own cousin if he wished to.
I owe you a couple school rides for being a decent cell mate today. Text me if you ever need it.
He read over the messages and finally felt something akin to satisfaction. It wasn’t quite the best olive branch to extend, but it also wasn’t as nonchalant as Kim tried to be in his every interaction. He just hoped Macau could read that between the lines.
He then tried to find a comfortable position to lay down, to no avail. Even though the sight of a peaceful and relaxed Tankhun settled him more than any medicine could, he still couldn’t sleep and stared aimlessly at the ceiling for hours on end.
He was about to give in and call the nurse for a sleeping pill when the door cracked open to reveal Kinn stepping through, silently closing it behind him.
Kinn walked slowly and quietly until settling by an armchair near his bed. “How are you holding up?” He whispered in the dark, mindful of Khun’s sleeping form across from them.
“I’m okay. The nurses gave me the good stuff, I don’t feel a thing.” Which wasn’t necessarily a lie — Kim wasn’t in any pain, but he did feel restless and wired, his body refusing to let go of the tension it held on to during the day, stubbornly remaining awake and alert.
“That’s good news.” Kinn replied, bending forward, “Why can’t you sleep, then?” He crossed his arms over his chest, tilting his chin up to form the same irritating posture he adopted in every business meeting.
Kim’s disdain for the act must have transpired into his face because Kinn quickly threw his body back against the cushioned seat and refrained from saying anything else.
“I’m exhausted.” Kim started, unsure of what he was even trying to say. “I mean, my body is, but my mind just…”
“Won’t stop?” Kinn offered upon realizing Kim had trailed off with no intention of finishing his sentence.
Kim slowly nodded and Kinn’s head tilted down, the two of them remaining silent for a beat. “You’d get like that a lot when you were little. Even before… You know, everything.”
Kim knew what he meant by everything: before Khun was ripped away from them, before their mom died, before the boy Kim used to call Hia became Khun Kinn.
“Khun always said you were an old soul.” Kinn continued, stopping only for a brief moment to chuckle softly at the memory. “You insisted on going to bed early when you had something exciting coming up because you wanted it to come faster, but then you’d be too wired up to sleep and just laid still until morning.”
Kim was almost sure the tips of his ears were turning red, but he refused to acknowledge it. The room was luckily too dark for Kinn to notice. What Kinn said still applied to his grown-up self, always too anxious to sleep properly before a major concert or mission.
He could normally crash quite easily after those, the physical exhaustion winning over his racing mind.
Not this time, though, it seemed.
“You know, there was only one thing that calmed you down. Do you remember what it was?” Kinn asked, his words evoking an image that hadn’t been brought out in a long time.
“Ma would play me classical music.” He recalled, his mom’s face flashing through his mind with a painful tug at his heartstrings. He couldn’t remember the exact sound of her laugh anymore, hadn’t been able to for years now, but Kim could have sworn he felt it reverberate through his chest as he spoke. “Sometimes on her piano or just on the radio.”
Kinn smiled somewhat hesitantly, “Yes. You kept asking for Mozart. Christ, you were seven. Who knows Mozart when they’re seven?” He huffed, “An old soul, indeed.”
Kim was about to snap back at him with a quirky comeback, ready to dissolve the heavy tension that followed every mention of their mother, when Kinn pulled a little box out of his pocket and handled it to him.
“I figured you would need some distraction, so I asked Arm to upgrade these earphones to have better sound quality. He assured me it’d be almost as good as hearing music from one of mom’s old vinyls. Nothing can beat the original, but it’ll have to do while you’re in here.” Kinn shrugged once he finished talking, watching closely as Kim opened the box.
He plugged the earphones into his new phone — he briefly contemplated why kidnappings seemed to be better prompts for gift giving than birthdays in this family — before searching for a classical music playlist and hitting play.
“Arm wasn’t lying.” Kim commented, taking one side of the earphones out. Kinn smiled brightly, a lighthouse amidst darkness, and Kim was speaking again before he could decide against it. “Come here, test it out,” He offered, extending one side of it out to his brother.
Kinn complied and they sat together against the headboard. After two songs had gone by and sleep still hadn’t come, Kim’s mind wavered back to that day’s events, “So, did you ever find out who took us and—”
“You’re not actually listening.” Kinn interrupted, talking as if Kim had never made a sound, “The only thing you need to worry about is recovering. You can’t do that if you don’t sleep and you can’t sleep if you’re thinking about business.”
Kim let out an outraged noise that sounded more high-pitched than he had intended, but Kinn didn’t even react, “I took care of everything, so don’t worry, we can discuss it in the morning. Now, just pay attention, will you?”
Kim stared at him with feigned disinterest, but laid down properly, Kinn mirroring his action. The two of them were facing the ceiling in quiet contemplation as the soothing notes lured them into relaxation.
His eyes weighed and every blink became longer and longer. Darkness finally engulfed him and he only woke up many hours later.
When he did, Kinn was still sound asleep by his side, as was Khun. Trying not to upset his ribs too much, he reached for his phone.
He immediately caught sight of new notifications from Macau.
The first text stated, Thanks for checking in, Kim. I’m alright, and I hope you’re too.
The second notification had been sent just a minute after the first, directly replying to Kim’s offer:
You just created a monster. As soon as I convince Vegas my school’s headmaster isn’t part of a conspiracy to murder me and he lets me out of the house again, you’ll never know peace.
He smiled, weirdly relieved once he read through the texts and replied, Bring it on, you brat.
Kim was about to place the phone back on his bedside table when it vibrated again.
A new text from Macau had just come through: Oh, I will… By the way, my dear friend Chay sends his best wishes for a speedy recovery. Or should I say our dear cousin?
Kim’s breath was knocked out of his goddamn body as blood rushed to his checks.
When his initial panic dissipated, he desperately started typing and sending a string of incoherent messages, such as “Chay’s not actually related to us”, followed by “What do you mean, your dear friend?” and “What the fuck ?”
But Macau was already offline again, none of Kim’s texts being read or even received.
Fucking bastard.
Now Kim would have to hunt him down for answers.
Very stupidly so, he found himself looking forward to finding those.
“Why are you staring at your phone like an idiot? Did they hit you in the head? Do you have a concussion after all? Fuck, you probably have internal bleeding by now!” Khun’s high-pitched voice cut through Kim’s haze of fleeting hope and curiosity, startling him.
“I’m fine, Khun. I was just texting Macau.” Kim assured him, setting the phone down. Khun crossed the room in two quick strides and plumped down near Kim, placing the back of his hand against his youngest brother’s forehead.
“Well, you don’t have a fever.” Khun murmured to himself, staring into Kim’s eyes with intent, ignoring his brother had even said anything, “Your pupils look normal too.”
“Khun, I said I’m okay.” Kim tried again, softly locking his fingers against Khun’s wrist and pulling his hand away from his face. He didn’t release his brother just yet, suspecting Khun needed the touch to believe him completely.
“Fine.” Khun mumbled, seeming to give in. His eyes finally landed on Kinn and he gulped loudly, one hand flying over his mouth. “Kinn slept here?”
Kim wasn’t sure how Khun had managed to ignore Kinn’s very obvious presence until then, but he had no interest in starting that discussion, so he just nodded. “You had a sleepover without me?” Khun rose again, speaking even louder. “Traitors! Both of you!”
Kinn stirred awake, blinking rapidly, “Khun, will you just—”
Whatever Kinn had been about to say was lost to the sound of a pillow hitting him square on the face. “That was for not inviting me to the sleepover.” Khun turned to Kim and pointed a finger at his face, “You’ll get your share when you’re back on your feet.”
Seeming to be satisfied with his vengeance, Tankhun draped himself over Kinn, twisting and turning until he landed on the soft mattress, sandwiched between his brothers. Any concerns over Kim’s injuries being worsened by bed-sharing seemed to have been long forgotten.
“It’s away too early for this.” Kinn complained, pushing Khun’s arm away. Khun immediately wrapped himself against his middle again, trapping him into a side hug of sorts.
“Then go back to sleep. Stop disturbing Kim!” Tankhun ordered, tapping Kinn’s back.
Kim was tempted to state Tankhun was the only one disturbing his peace, but decided against it. Kinn seemed to think the same, considering he merely closed his eyes and accepted defeat.
He was sure it couldn’t be very comfortable or medical-advised for three grown men to share the same hospital bed, as extravagantly large as that one was. And yet he couldn’t force himself to kick his brothers out.
Instead, he threaded his fingers through Khun’s hair and closed his eyes again, basking in the sunlight that began to invade the room. As he caressed the crown of Khun’s head and relaxed once more, his mind wandered.
At any second, a doctor or nurse would come in to check on him and disturb the momentary harmony the three of them had found. If not that, his father would most likely make an appearance to perform the act of a concerned parent.
For now, though, Kim found some solace in the knowledge he hadn’t been forgotten, that the ugly thoughts that had bared their heads during captivity were at least part delusion.
His absence had been noted, so much so he had been retrieved and looked after. As childish as it was to crave such validation, Kim rejoiced in it anyway.
Wasn’t that what love was, in the end? The stubborn desire to be seen, to be noted and valued, even as the floor beneath your feet gave out and the world caved in? Kim wasn’t so arrogant to assume he was above that longing, as much as he wished to be.
He didn’t say any of that to his two companions, obviously. He just kept his eyes closed and listened attentively as Kinn complained about Khun squeezing him too hard, failing to sound sufficiently annoyed due to the laughter that kept coming out of his mouth.
Khun told him in no uncertain terms where he should shove his complaints, which only prompted the two of them to laugh even harder.
Kim didn’t partake in their pointless argument, but a smile still crawled its way into his face. He was lucky Khun’s back was facing him instead of his brother’s eagle eyes or he would have been caught immediately.
The manor wasn’t home, nor would it ever be again, but Kinn and Khun and their bubble of joy and familiarity came close to the feeling.
He loved them enough to admit it.