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It had been bothering Kinn for two days.
He’d noticed it during a routine meeting in the main hall—Kim in a sleeveless black shirt, casually flipping through his phone while pretending not to care about any of the ongoing discussions. But Kinn’s sharp eyes had caught it: a fresh, deep bite mark on Kim’s upper arm. Ugly, red, unmistakable.
At first, Kinn thought it might be from a fight. Kim had a habit of getting into trouble no one knew about until it was too late. But when he asked—
“You good?” Kinn had muttered later, nodding to the mark. “That from someone I need to kill?”
Kim didn’t even look up. “You need better hobbies, Phi.”
“Kim—”
“Drop it,” Kim said, tone flat, eyes icy.
And so, for the sake of peace—and because prying into Kim's private life was like interrogating a concrete wall—Kinn let it go.
Until this morning.
He woke up with Porsche tangled around him, all legs and heat and satisfaction. The night before had been… intense. Porsche had been in a mood. Loud, hungry, mouth everywhere. Kinn hadn’t exactly complained.
But now, as he stretched and winced slightly, his shoulder throbbed. He padded into the bathroom, turned, and saw it in the mirror.
A bite. Deep. Purple. Porsche’s signature, right on the curve of his shoulder.
He laughed to himself. “Little bastard,” he muttered fondly.
Heading down the corridor, coffee in hand, he paused at one of the long hallway windows. Below, near the gardens, he caught sight of movement.
Kim and—
Chay.
Kinn blinked. They were holding hands. Chay’s head tilted up, Kim leaned down—pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Chay smiled like he couldn’t help it. Then they heard footsteps nearby and instantly stepped apart, Kim’s poker face sliding back into place like armor.
But Kinn stood there, stunned.
He looked down at his shoulder, then thought back to Kim’s mark.
Realization hit him like a punchline.
“…They’re exactly the same,” Kinn whispered, incredulous. A grin slowly curled across his face. “The exact same.”
Both of the Theerapanyakul beothers, bitten by their equally mouthy, affectionate, secretive boyfriends.
“Unbelievable,” Kinn muttered, still grinning as he turned down the hall. “We really are cursed with chaos.”
But then again, he wouldn’t trade his chaos for anything. And apparently, neither would Kim.