Chapter Text
In his time at the Theerapanyakun compound, Jojo has heard all kinds of gossip about pretty much everybody. There’s not much else to do while standing around in a wool suit on a hot day, besides looking for the bullet scars in the marble of the front breezeway. Sometimes Khun Kinn or K’Porsche arrive and there’s a door to be opened and a car to be parked, but otherwise it’s pretty much just staring into the abyss, trying not to sweat to death.
There’s gossip about everyone, but there’s no one more gossiped about than P’Big. (Well, except maybe K’Porsche, but that’s not so much gossip as it is legend.)
But Jojo’s not sure. In his experience, bored young men all have hundred cm dicks and five hundred conquests. From the way the younger guys talk about him, P’Big can kill a snake with a single look and eats handfuls of tacks for breakfast.
Jojo has seen him at breakfast, with P’Arm and P’Pol. He’s not there all that often, but when he is, he’s usually having plain toast and unseasoned eggs. People say that where there's smoke, there's fire, but as far as Jojo's concerned, usually it's just flaming bullshit.
And the one time Jojo actually spoke to him, Big had a good reason to rip his head off, but he didn’t. It was Jojo’s second day as a ‘real’ guard and he was trying very hard not to fuck up.
Big pulled up in a huge black Escalade, and tossed the keys to Jojo, who’d caught them without thinking. And then he’d mentally reviewed the briefing notes in his head. The Theerapanyakun family had seven members - Khun Kinn, his two brothers, Khun Vegas and his nong, and Khun Porsche and everyone’s favourite, K’Chay. Everyone else needed clearance, and this man was in street clothes and not even in a family Maserati.
Despite the scowl and leather jacket, this man was not Khun Kim. And that meant that Jojo was not supposed to let him in.
“Excuse me!” he said, jumping in front of the interloper. His guard partner paled, but Jojo was determined to respect his training and earn his one year bonus. He was not letting a rando into the lobby of the main building and getting his skin yelled off by P’Chan. “Do you have an appointment confirmation?”
Big had blinked. “Do you know who I am?” he asked, but not in a nasty way like nyaaah do you know who my daddy is? It came out like a genuine question.
“No?” Jojo said. Big reached out and took his car keys back, beginning to frown. “... you’re not in the slideshow?”
“Call P’Chan,” Big advised, and Jojo began to feel a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
In the end, he wasn’t even punished. “I can’t give you shit for not listening to gossip,” Chan said. “But yes, this is Big and he’s free to come and go as he pleases. He’s Khun Kinn’s special advisor.”
“You should always verify visitors,” Big had said to the other guard, scowling. And then he’d tossed the keys at Spin’s head and stalked into the compound.
So no, Jojo didn’t believe any of the gossip around the compound about P’Big. The man clearly had an eye for talent and his heart in the right place. Every weird thing people said about him in a throuple with Khun Kinn and Khun Porsche, and that he’d once had a foursome with P’Arm, P’Pol, and P’Mint, and that he ate junior bodyguards…
Well, clearly none of it was true.
i. Kinn
Khun Kinn left the compound well before Jojo came on shift, and the guards are starting to buzz about how he’s not back yet. Spin is enthusiastically narrating the (extremely embellished) story of the last time this was alleged to have happened, which was the night Khun Kinn met Khun Porsche.
“- and then Khun Porsche fought like, eight guys off - Whaaa! Whoopah! Woooow! - and he got K’Kinn on his motorcycle and they rode away together, and P’Arm said they sent like eight Maseratis of guys to pick him up, and -”
“Eight?” Jojo asks. “He’s one man, did they each take a limb?”
“That’s what P’Arm said,” Spin tells him, undeterred. “Anyway -”
“Sssh,” Jojo says, because there’s a certain quality to the approaching traffic noise that sounds… expensive. He wonders if…
With a few rich-sounding gravel crunches, five Maseratis roll into the front drive and P’Chan steps out onto the breezeway to open the door of the middle one.
“Everyone in one piece?” he asks the occupants, even more dour than usual. It's kind of funny that he gives Khun Kinn as much shit as he gives the guards, albeit in a nicer tone.
“I’m fine,” K’Kinn says, stepping out. His pants and suit are covered in dust, like he slid under a door or something. (That’s a bit cinematic. He probably just fell over.)
“Not for lack of trying,” P’Big says, and steps out of the car from behind him. He too is covered in dust, only on one side. Maybe it was a super-cool slide under a falling bank door that got them so rumpled. “Kinn decided I hadn’t gotten in my cardio for the day.”
“You enjoyed it,” Khun Kinn says, grinning. “It was like the good old days.”
P’Big scowls. “You owe me a new suit,” he says. Khun Kinn laughs.
“Don’t flirt in front of me,” P’Chan says, and flicks Big in the ear. “Anything that should be seen in medical?”
“Despite Kinn’s best efforts, we’re both fine,” Big says, scowling even harder, and the conversation moves into the lobby where Jojo can’t eavesdrop.
“They’re totally going to bone tonight,” Spin pronounces, like he’s some sort of fucking font of wisdom, and Jojo can’t even contradict him before P’Pol hopes out of the lead car and demands help unloading what seems to be the artillery supply of Luxembourg. P’Big is a kind and gentle man, and deserves to be spoken of in tones of the utmost respect. If Jojo spends the rest of the evening mad at Spin for saying that, it’s only because of his disrespect to a superior.
ii. Porsche
Khun Porsche doesn’t so much get out of the car as tumble out, laughing so loudly that pedestrians on the street turn to look at him. It’s a fact that he was once a bodyguard, but Jojo still can’t quite believe it. He’s so beautiful. Wouldn’t it distract the other bodyguards? How did anyone get any work done with him around?
(Maybe that was the plan all along? Distract the bad guys with K’Porsche’s beautiful, beautiful face? Jojo is still kind of coming to terms with being gay, but K’Porsche makes the whole attraction to men thing make a lot more sense.)
“I’m just saying, if you wanted me to wear them, you should have told me before now,” Khun Porsche says, wandering around to the trunk. He’s a lot more informal than the rest of the family, except for K’Chay. “We’ve got air conditioning.”
P’Big exits the Maserati, scowling so hard that Jojo can immediately see that K’Porsche is working his last nerve. Jojo has never quite understood why such a talented man as P’Big is sometimes made to go shopping with K’Porsche.
“I’m not the one who picks out the clothes for you,” P’Big protests. “It’s always that same salesgirl. She’s the one you should be accusing, not me.”
“Oh yeah, because she’s never seen the way you look at my ass when I try them on,” Porsche says, still laughing. “Remember the time we almost ripped down the whole changeroom?”
“I don’t recall,” Big says, stiffly. Jojo is incensed on P’Big’s behalf. How dare K’Porsche question his professionalism! Jojo is certain Big would never cross the line between family and staff. “Anyway, I just want to say for the record that I was not involved in the selection of these leather pants, and you decided to buy them without any input from me and -”
“What, like Kinn’s not going to like them too?” Porsche asks, and pops the trunk. Big hipchecks him out of the way, and then stiffly carries the large shopping bag into the lobby, held carefully in front of him at waist level. He's such a good bodyguard. He even protects the shopping.
“Thank fuck Porsche is off our floor,” P’Pol says, popping out of the front seat. “Whatever they do with those pants is going to be fucking loud. Do you want a break from door duty? The AC was running, go ahead and pull it around for me.”
Jojo should be heroic and defend the professional and kind P’Big from all of these unfair accusations. But more than that, he should get in the AC. He’s going to start dripping, and sweating through his uniform somehow means laps, like Jojo has any control over his sweat glands. (P’Big probably does - he’s perfect like that.)
iii. Arm
Jojo isn’t trying to listen in on Arm and Big’s conversation. They’re the ones that decide to sit down at the table behind him and get into an intense whispered discussion. Jojo learned in training that whispers actually carry further than just a quiet voice. It’s not his fault he overhears. He’s just being observant.
“He’s into the idea of it, he’s just worried about the risk,” Big whispers to Arm.
Spin, sitting next to Jojo, blushes purple. As if by mutual agreement, they both go dead silent. Spin’s obnoxious chewing even gets 50% quieter. Jojo was sure he was doing that on purpose and this proves it.
“Was he looking in the book?” Arm murmurs back. Jojo almost doesn't hear it. See, the bodyguard guidebook is correct and even Khun Kinn reads it.
“Yeah,” Big says, and swallows hard. “The uh… the suspension?”
“Of course he would,” Arm scoffs, a little louder. “I agree, I don't think you should do that alone after last time.”
Big half turns away from Arm. Jojo can see his face reflected in the glass of the carvery station. He's scowling super hard. “You're never gonna let me live that down.”
“Nope!” Arm says, and pops the p. “But I'll help you.”
“Yeah, sure,” Big grumbles, flushing red. “Thanks, I guess. Lemme know what I owe you.”
“Oh, if K’Kinn’s involved, he can pay,” Arm says. “You done with your tray? Don't give me that, you're not eating, you're stirring.”
They get up and head out of the dining hall. Jojo looks over at Spin. He is frozen mid-bite and brick red.
“What?” Jojo murmurs, his mind whirring over the conversation. Who is getting suspended? What infraction did they commit? Maybe there's someone dangerous on the compound. Should Jojo have asked if they need help? What if -
Spin chokes on his half-chewed bite. Jojo almost has to give him the heimlich maneuver. Somehow the suspension never gets explained, but Spin does tell him that denial is not just a river in Egypt. Excuse him, what’s that supposed to mean?
iv. Porsche, again.
Jojo never does figure out who's getting suspended. Maybe it's someone he doesn't know. Khun Porsche and P’Big both have some connections to the minor family.
He is surprised to be pulled into P’Chan’s office one morning after training. He’s not sure what he’s fucked up. He’s tried very hard to adhere to all the standards in the guidebook - at first, just to keep from being shouted at, but now because he wants to be the best of the junior guards.
“I’d like to reassign you,” P’Chan says. Jojo is surprised. He’s barely been with the Theerapanyakuns six months. A lot of guys spend their whole first contract escorting guests upstairs and patrolling the lobby.
“Thank you sir,” Jojo says, and then wonders if that was the correct thing to say. Does he sound ungrateful for his current position? Should he have said -
“Well, wait until you hear about the detail,” Chan says, and coughs. “Ah. Our business is to provide personal security, and sometimes that means seeing things of a personal nature, do you follow me?”
“Of course,” Jojo says. He does not.
“A man of your… discretion could go far with the family,” Chan continues. “At times bodyguards have neither eyes nor ears, do you understand?”
“Yes, phi,” Jojo says, cottoning on to the fact that maybe this is of a personal nature. Of course, sometimes one’s principals need to use the shitter. “Nor noses.”
“You get it,” Chan says, relieved. “I’d like a fourth guard on Porsche for the moment. How does that sound to you?”
“... great, sir,” Jojo says. Spin is never going to believe this.
Being the fourth man on Khun Porsche’s three man detail isn’t that different from being a door guard. But there’s air conditioning, and Khun Porsche always gets him whatever he wants for lunch if they’re going to be out over mealtime. It’s a marked step up from sweating outside on the front breezeway.
The reason for Jojo’s hasty promotion becomes clear on his first day at work. He lines up in the lobby extra early, and snaps to attention when his principal comes out of the elevator. Oh god, should he salute? What does he say? What -
“Morning, guys!” Khun Porsche says, smiling, as he breezes by them with P’Big. “Hi New Kid!”
“Yessir!” Jojo says, and does salute, and the resulting shame spiral is so much he almost fails to notice that P’Big is wearing a large overcoat just draped over his shoulders. He’s so fashionable in his civvies. Wow.
Jojo is consigned to wait with the cars while the rest of the detail goes into the restaurant for lunch. “Run the AC in both cars if it’s getting stuffy,” P’Nop instructs, handing him the keys. “If anyone tries to look in the window, glare at them. What do you want me to bring you back for lunch?”
For some reason, P’Sept gets exiled to the second vehicle on the way home. “Better Pol than me,” he says to Nop. Jojo has been moved to the back seat to enjoy his bahn mi. “The partition is good, but it’s not that soundproof, you know?”
“Do I ever,” Nop says, and they both laugh.
It’s just a short drive home, but for some reason they have a long pause, at least a couple minutes, before P’Pol radios back and asks someone to hop out and open the door. Maybe K’Porsche is sick? Oh no, and on Jojo’s first day! Does this mean that the sandwich is bad? He should -
P’Chan is the one to open the door. Big and Porsche get out of the vehicle, both flushed and uncharacteristically rumpled. Did they fight? That doesn’t sound right, but -
Big is missing his overcoat, and without it, it’s easier to see his arm is in a sling. How did Jojo miss that?
“How did you sprain your wrist again?” Chan asks, dry.
“... I fell out of bed,” Big mutters, scowling and blushing red. “But I wasn’t -”
“Did I ask for colour commentary?” Chan asks, and turns to Porsche. “And you.”
“I was helping Phi learn a valuable lesson about safe restraint,” Porsche says, grinning cheekily. “Someone’s gotta do his seatbelt up, right?”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Chan asks, dryer than a drowning fish. “Pol, do you need trauma leave?”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before, sir,” Pol says, popping out of the driver’s seat. He salutes Porsche and slides back down into the car.
“What am I gonna do with you two?” Chan asks, apparently only to himself. Big scowls harder. “Go on, get.”
Jojo follows them into the lobby. He hasn’t been dismissed yet.
“Kinn is the one who makes the rules,” Porsche is telling Big. He turns and gives Jojo the kind of little wave that means back off, thanks and Jojo hard stops outside of the elevator. “He’s the one who said you couldn’t -”
The elevator door slides shut. Jojo will never know what Big’s restricted duties are.
v. Jojo
“ - I swear to you, he’s dating Khun Kinn and Khun Porsche,” Spin says. “Buddy, I know you have a crush on P’Big, but you gotta believe me. Have you ever seen him go in or out of his room?”
“Of course I have,” Jojo sniffs. He’s three doors down, and he’s seen Big go in and out on at least two occasions, either carrying some clothing with him or wet from the shower. Yes, that’s not a lot, but Big is clearly expected to keep Khun Kinn’s schedule, and Jojo has a 9pm curfew.
“We’re not addressing the crush,” Spin sighs. “Bro, you’re a hot piece of ass. But I’m telling you, he’s not gonna bite.”
“Mumble mumble mumble,” Jojo responds, with an air of great dignity.
He lies awake and thinks about it that night. Maybe he does have a crush on P’Big. And is it so crazy that P’Big would at least entertain getting a coffee with Jojo or something? If the rumours are true, he’s hooked up with most of the senior staff. He and Jojo are almost actual colleagues now, what with Jojo being on K’Porsche’s detail. It isn’t insane.
He pulls his blankets up over his head and listens to his roommate snore. There were a few private security and “private security” jobs that came his way after he finished National Service. Some were easier; some paid better.
But he’d chosen the Theerapanyakuns because of their gloss and their push for excellence. Yes, the pool training is insane, and so is the bodyguard diet. But being here has pushed Jojo to do things he never would have considered as a poor kid from a bad neighbourhood.
… maybe this is another impossible thing he can do. The worst thing that can happen is that P’Big says no, right?
It takes him a couple weeks to catch Big coming out of his room. Spin was right, the guy really doesn’t spend a lot of time there.
Hands shaking, Jojo makes his way to catch Big in the doorway. “Hey phi.”
Big startles, and then gives an edge of a smile. “Oh, hey N’Jojo. What’s up?”
“I was wondering,” Jojo starts, his tongue shrivelling in his mouth. “... coffee?”
“What about it?” Big asks, still smiling. “Did Kinn ask you for some? I can show you how the machine works.”
“With me?” Jojo manages. Being smiled at by P’Big is… a lot.
“Like as a date?” Big asks, his eyebrows wrinkling. He’s still smiling, but it’s the way people smile at a cute dog doing tricks. Like oh wow, look at you, you think you’re a person.
“... yes,” Jojo manages.
Big keeps smiling the dog-trick smile, and for some reason reaches out and holds his suite door shut. “Uh, I’m flattered, but I’ve got someone who’d be pretty jealous if I went for coffee with another guy. Thanks, though.”
“Is it Khun Kinn?” Jojo asks, staring up at P’Big’s perfect, beautiful face. Of course K’Kinn would be the one lucky enough to have him. He has everything.
“Uh no, he’s not the jealous one,” Big says, and pulls hard against the door. “Sorry kid. If you’re looking for kind of a stern phi vibe, maybe try Arm.”
“I understand,” Jojo says. “Uh, have a good night.”
“You too,” Big says, and someone yanks his door open.
Big’s face goes all soft and open. “Oh, I’m the jealous one?” Khun Porsche demands. “More than Kinn?”
“Yeah,” Big says, still looking up at Porsche with something like naked adoration. “You know it’s true, Po.”
“Well fine,” Khun Porsche says, with a wicked little smile. “Then I’ll show you how jealous I can be.”
Big scowls deeply just as Porsche pulls him back into the suite. Oh, Jojo thinks, and covers his ears against the noises through the door. He does scowl when he’s horny.
And one more…
“I think you’re ready for another promotion,” P’Chan says, about two weeks after the disastrous coffee incident. K’Porsche left a huge hickey on Big’s neck, like a dog marking his territory, and it’s only just faded.
“... where?” Jojo asks. Nobody’s putting a guy who’s only eleven months into service on K’Kinn’s detail, and he’s hardly moving up past Mint or Sept on Porsche’s detail.
“You’re getting over Big, yes?” Chan asks. “The crush is…” He waves his hand.
How did he know about that? Jojo does not wake up in the morning to be mortified, and yet he continually is. Life is bleak.
“Kinda,” he says. The feelings have lessened their grip since he found out Big was fucking K’Porsche and K’Kinn. The guy is just way out of his league, as much as Jojo values their relationship and respects Big deeply.
“Sure,” Chan says. “That’s good. I’m putting you on Big’s detail. I’d like him to stop grabbing door guard number three when he goes out on his own. It’s time he had his own guy.”
“... me?” Jojo asks.
“You,” Chan agrees. “You think you can make him eat a protein bar every two hours while you’re with him? I think I trust that you understand the personal side of things enough to handle this.”
“I can do that,” Jojo says, and starts to mentally catalogue all the things P’Big does that don’t quite align with the Theerapanyakun guidelines for good physical and mental health. Boy, he’s got his work cut out for him.
“I don’t want a protein bar!” Big almost shouts at him a couple weeks later. Apparently the scowl isn’t just when he’s horny. It does occasionally come out when he’s grumpy. “I want to get out of this basement and find Porsche!”
“Proper nutrition is the key to maintaining a good mindset,” Jojo tells him, brandishing the protein bar. “Once you’re nourished, sir, I think there’s a side door over there we could try to kick our way out of?”
“You’re worse than Kinn,” Big tells Jojo, but takes the bar. He kicks the door down and rescues Jojo and himself from the Italians before backup arrives, and they slide under a falling bank vault door to safety. There are eight Maseratis lined up to meet them when they finally get up to a main street, who knew.
Big turns, and suddenly Khun Porsche and Khun Kinn are there, sandwiching him between them. “I’m fine,” he’s saying with the other scowl. “I’m fine, I’m okay, I’m -”
Jojo turns his back on what happens next. The soul of personal service is discretion. And Jojo is nothing if not discreet.