Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He didn't believe them when they told him it felt a little like dying. All those books, poems, and big-screen movie moments. A little, what an absurd term. If his throat didn't feel so constricted, Porchay might have laughed about it. Even though laughing, at this moment, sounds as unimaginable as flying. Physiologically impossible. How in the name of all spiritual creatures do humans survive this more than once? A broken heart. Maybe because in the end, there's no flesh left that's capable of feeling. Love, excitement, pain. Maybe all those broken hearts are so covered in hard scar tissue that they've built their own little protective armor. Immunity.

On the stained wooden floor of his room lie the remains of the posters he's collected and carefully preserved over the years. The anger came before the pain. Now they lie there. Torn and crumpled, Porchay feels like it wouldn't be noticed if he just lay down next to it. But he lacks the strength. He feels drained and somehow numb. He hasn't left the house for days. The blinds on the small window opposite his bed are drawn. He doesn't want to see the world outside. He doesn't want to admit that it just keeps turning even though he's fighting for his survival here in his room. It feels that way, but you can't trust feelings. They're deceitful creatures that lull you into a false sense of security before they take pleasure in destroying the other person.
Porchay closes his eyes and hopes once again that this is all just a bad dream. He has never felt lonelier in his life.

When he opens them again, his body feels as if a herd of elephants has trampled him. He's hot. He's sweating. His head feels like it's about to explode, and swallowing seems almost impossible. Slowly, the realization sinks in that even a broken heart shouldn't feel like this, and almost simultaneously, a single longing ignites in his chest. Every remaining heart cell focuses on this single fact. He wants his Hia, and as the thought takes root in his brain, Porchay could burst into tears again. But there are no more tears. Only a sharp throbbing behind his forehead and a burning in his eyes.
He should do something. This doesn't feel funny at all. Trembling, he struggles out of the tangled sheets and has to pause for a moment before the dancing stars before his eyes diminish. He reaches for the tattered wool jacket hanging over his desk chair and presses it to his chest. His cold fingers grope and find the carefully folded note in the left inside pocket. Porchay clings to it as if his life depended on it.

Porchay doesn't remember how he made it into the taxi, but the glass of the window feels cool in contrast to his hot forehead, and the city passes by in a blur. At his destination, he gropes clumsily for some money. The gray-haired taxi driver just looks at him worriedly and mutters in a husky voice, "It's okay, boy." Porchay stumbles out of the car and into the tall building that looms before him. He doesn't notice the polished marble floor, the gold trim, and the abundance of glass. He doesn't make it far before someone roughly grabs his shoulder and pushes him against the nearest wall. Porchay coughs. The air escapes his lungs and he finds it difficult to breathe in fresh oxygen.

"Hey, brat. What are you doing here?" The barking voice rings in his ears. He's shaken roughly, but Porchay just blinks. His eyes are watering.

"Wait. Isn't that...?" A new voice, but Porchay can't make out the words.

The next moment he can remember, he's staggering down a long hallway, or rather, someone is pushing him. They pass through a wide set of double doors. Porchay sees dark wood, crystal glasses, and men in suits, and then his gaze meets the only pair of eyes that still has meaning. "Hia."

Porsche can hardly believe his eyes, but while his brain is still processing the scene in front of him and trying to categorize it, he's already on his feet. In a few steps, he's crossed the room and is at Porchay's side before his eyes roll back and he collapses unconscious. He hears Kinn's voice. Chairs are moved, orders are barked, and then Kinn is squatting next to him on the soft carpet. He looks at Porsche as if he's waiting for something, and Porsche knows he should react now, but all he sees is Porchay's pale face. Finally, his own hands are release from his little brother, and Kinn carefully takes the teenager into his arms.

In their suite, Porsche slowly regains his composure. The initial shock subsides. He throws the covers back over Kinn's and his bed. "Put him here," he calls to Kinn as he enters the bedroom with his precious cargo. Kinn gently places Porchay on Porsche's side of the bed. "Porsche, talk to me. What can I do? Do you need anything? The doctor has been informed, he's on call. But this is your pup. No one comes near him without your permission." And Porsche is so grateful, because the Alpha instinctively drew the right conclusions.

His hands feel for Porchay's pulse. It's weaker than it should be, but regular, but when he gets nearPorchay's neck as he bends down, his face grimaces. The puppy smells awful. Without further ado, he throws his jacket to the floor and unbuttons his white shirt. Then he climbs into bed behind Porchay and pulls the teenager to his bare chest. Kinn sits a distance away on the edge of the bed, watching the omega. His pupils are dilated and the muscles in his shoulders and back are noticeably tense. An alpha ready to attack at any moment to protect his omega and its pup.

Porsche rubs his wrist against Porchay's and is about to press his other wrist against Porchay's neck when he sees the aggressively reddened and swollen glands on the left and right sides of his neck. The skin has burst in some places. The wounds are oozing a yellowish fluid with an almost rancid odor that masks Porchay's otherwise sweet and milky scent. That must be terribly painful.

"Porchay has a gland infection. You can tell the doctor to have antibiotics and painkillers ready." Kinn seems glad to be able to do something and hurries out of the room.
Porsche gently brushes some sweaty strands of hair from his brother's forehead. Porchay whimpers softly, and Porsche lets out a soothing coo. A sound as old as the world. Used by Omegas when they want to calm a disturbed pup. "Shh, my sweet boy. I'm here. You're in safety. Hia is here." Porsche concentrates on emitting as many calming pheromones as possible and watches every new movement in Porchay's face. After a few minutes, Porchay's eyelids begin to flutter, and then he opens them a tiny crack. Porsche smiles at him lovingly, not wanting to unsettle Porchay with his worry. His voice is very gentle. "Hey, little one. There you are again. Can you hear me?" A small nod. "Very good. I know you're in pain, but we'll take care of that right away."

There's a knock. The young man in the white coat who enters the room bows deeply, and Porsche is filled with relief. He silently thanks the bodyguard, who had the foresight to ensure that Porsche's personal doctor was called, rather than the compound's equally competent, but somewhat stiff, older doctor. "Khun Porsche, with your permission, I would like to examine the patient."

Porchay looks at Porsche anxiously. "Dr. Thamin will help you, then you'll feel better right away. I'll stay with you the whole time. Nothing can happen to you."

Tyme puts his bag on the nightstand and pulls the small stool under the vanity toward the bed. His laugh is open and heartfelt. "Hello Porchay. My name is Tyme, and I'm extremely happy to finally meet you, even though I would have liked to under different circumstances. Your brother has told me a lot about you. I would like to examine you so you get better quickly. But only if I'm allowed to, of course. Make your decision in peace. Porsche won't leave you alone for a second. You two can just stay here."

The teenager looks at Porsche and, for a moment, looks so much younger than he is. Then he hesitantly looks back at the doctor. "Okay." His voice is just a whisper.

Tyme smiles again. "Thank you for your trust." He opens his bag and takes out the stethoscope and digital pulse oximeter. "I'm going to listen to your lungs now, and while I do that, I'll put a small device on your finger. With it, I can measure your heart rate and the oxygen level in your blood." Before placing the stethoscope on Porchay's chest, he pauses again. "It might be a bit cold." Slowly and very carefully, he examines the teenager and also takes his temperature with an infrared thermometer. "Everything looks fine, Porchay. You have a slight fever, but nothing that should cause us great concern. Now I'll take care of your throat. That looks bad." The doctor turns Porchay's chin from side to side, concentrating on the wounds and swelling. "You've got yourself quite an infection, young man." Tyme places sterile bandages and an absorbent pad on a small tray and puts on gloves. "Porsche, you can squeeze his hands. I'm trying to be careful, but cleaning the wound is unfortunately a bit uncomfortable."

The Omega presses a kiss to Porchay's forehead. "We can do this." And then Porchay is very brave while the doctor rinses the wounds with saline solution, disinfects them with a non-stinging disinfectant, and applies iodine ointment with a small spatula. Porchay wrinkles his nose. "That stinks," he murmurs quietly. Porsche laughs and hugs him. "But it helps. And honestly, you don't smell like a botanical garden right now, little one."

"Already done." Tyme smiles at Porchay, who's half-hiding his head on Porsche's chest. "Would you mind putting him in something more comfortable before I start the IV? Those tubes can be annoying little things sometimes."

Porsche nods and points to a door to the left of the bed. "There are pajamas in the first drawer of the dresser behind the dressing room door. If you would be so kind as to bring me one. I think Porchay prefers it when I don't leave him alone right now."
Tyme returns with one of Kinn's dark silk gowns and politely turns away as Porsche helps Porchay change.

"One last step like that, and then I'll leave you alone. I promise. Because your scent glands are so inflamed, I want to give you an antibiotic and painkillers intravenously. The original cause is a virus, but in your case, bacteria invited themselves to the party without asking. How do you feel about needles?"

Porchay makes a disgusted face and turns away. "I can see, but I'm really good at them. It goes really fast.", says Tyme

Suddenly Porchay´s six again. He remembers falling off the swing at the playground and banging his knee on a sharp rock. The wound was so deep that it needed stitches. In the small hospital room, he sat on Porsche's lap, and his brother, still only a child himself, showed him all the funny animal stickers on the walls and imitated their noises. Porchay laughed so hard about it that he couldn't concentrate on the stitches.

And now, it really doesn't hurt at all; only when the needle is inserted does Porchay whimper softly, but Porsche immediately calms him down.

Tyme gathers his supplies. "You can call me anytime. The most important thing is that Porchay rests now, and I think there's an Alpha out there who urgently wants to see you." The doctor holds the door open for Kinn and lets the Alpha in.

Kinn looks at his Omega, a lump forming in his throat. Porsche is still holding Porchay in his arms. The thick blanket covers the teenager almost completely, only his dark hair showing through. An IV stand stands next to the bed. The liquid drips steadily from the bottle and seeps into the transparent tube that disappears under the blanket. Kinn swallows. But his Omega smiles at him. A silent invitation for the Alpha to come closer. Kinn carefully sits down on the edge of the bed.

At that moment, a small growl comes from the bundle of blankets. Kinn's pupils dilate, and Porsche also looks down in surprise. "What's that all about, little mouse?"

Porchay's dark eyes sparkle, and he turns his head so he can glare at Kinn. He bares his teeth in a way that's almost sweet. Kinn watches the teenager attentively but remains seated. The wolf in his chest is amused by the puppy's behavior, but doesn't let the small threatening gesture drive him out of his own bed.

"Porchay, hmm? Would you mind explaining that to me?" Porsche's voice is gentle, but he lifts Porchay's chin slightly. Porchay lets out a small, angry noise and pulls his head away. Grumbling, he pulls the covers a little higher. Porsche clicks his tongue in annoyance. But Kinn instinctively moves a little closer to the two of them, searching under the covers for Porchay's hand. The pup doesn't pull it away as Kinn clasps the smaller hand in his own, letting a deep humming sound rise from his throat. "I stole your Hia. Didn't I, little wolf? I'd be angry, too, if I were you. I don't like having things taken away from me. We have something in common there."

Porchay struggles out of his self-made pile of blankets and glares at Porsche. "He took you away from me. Just like that. I'm all alone." Now Porchay's gaze is accusing. "You were gone and then Kim came and he was so sweet, but he just tricked me. It was so embarrassing and felt so awful. I made a fool of myself. And you weren't there." Tears gather in his wide eyes, which soon run down his slightly flushed cheeks. Porchay sobs.

Kim, what? A frown forms on Porsche's forehead and he exchanges a look with Kinn. They'll have to talk about this. But not now. The tears continue to roll and Porchay begins to tremble slightly. Porsche feels like his heart is tightening. This is his puppy and he seems miserable.

Porchay can't calm down anymore, so Kinn simply lifts the teenager into his own arms. There he looks even smaller. Porchay growls and drums his fists against Kinn's chest, but Kinn simply holds him tight. "Shhh." There's that humming again. "It's okay, little wolf. It's okay." He rocks Porchay gently. "I should never have separated you. That was terribly selfish of me, and I'm sorry. I was only satisfying my own need to have your brother close to me. I took advantage of the fact that he only wants the best for you. In doing so, I completely lost sight of the part of him that existed long before he became my mate. He is your mae. Only yours, sweet pup." Porchay calms down slowly and looks at the large Alpha. "My beautiful Omega already has a pup, and I shamefully neglected my duty to him. When I gave him my bite and he gave me his, you became mine, little wolf. My duty, my gift. From this second forward, I will protect you. You have my word."

The Alpha strokes Porchay's hair gently. For a while, they simply stare at each other, memorizing their features. “You’re terribly tired.” Porchay lets out a small yawn and snuggles into Porsche’s waiting arms.The Omega coos softly. Porchay inhales the familiar scent deeply, but doesn't let go of the Alpha. His chin clasps them both. "Rest, little wolf. Rest. I'll take care of you. I protect you both"

Porchay can finally close his eyes. Who cares what tomorrow brings? He's safe, and the hole in his heart is a little smaller.

Chapter Text

Kinn sighs and rolls his shoulders back as he sets aside the file he's just processed.

He hates desk work and paperwork, and since his father's death, these areas of his work have practically exploded. The Alpha doesn't even want to think about the mountains of work still waiting for him. The remaining files, neatly sorted and stacked in boxes in an adjoining room, are waiting for Kinn to tackle them. A horrifying thought. Meanwhile, Arm is working with a select team to digitize the files Kinn has approved.

The Alpha glances at his gleaming wristwatch. He's been sitting here in this misery that passes for an office for almost three hours. He got up early, even though it was really hard to leave his Omega and the puppy in their warm bed.

It's been almost three weeks since Porchay arrived, and the teenager is still sleeping in the large double bed in Kinn and Porsche's suite. And quite frankly, if it were up to his Alpha, that wouldn't change anytime soon.

How can you miss something so painfully afterward, even though you didn't care about it at all while it was gone?

Kinn loves returning to the family home after a long day of office work, stiff dinner dates, and boring meetings, only to find Porchay already curled up under the large duvet. Usually, at that hour, the scent of expensive shower gel mingles with the heavenly, sweet milky scent of the pup.

Porchay has developed a great fondness for full baths with as much bubbles as possible, something he simply couldn't indulge in at his parents' house due to the lack of a bathtub. The bathtub in the en-suite bathroom is custom-made, and Porchay could probably fit inside it five times over. So, after sunset, you can often hear the puppy's soft singing when he's once again claimed the bathroom for himself.

As soon as Kinn enters the bedroom at night, a small hand reaches out to him. He can't help but quickly peel himself out of his suit under Porsche's stern gaze, take a quick shower to thoroughly wash away the smell of work and the city, and then climb into bed with Porchay.

The bedroom hasn't only changed because of Porchay's presence. During the first week, at Porsche's request, a large velvet armchair was purchased, which now stands next to the bed by the window and has become Omega's nightly retreat. Porsche's only comment on the purchase was that otherwise he would fall asleep every time he reads to his brother from the thick fantasy novel that lies ready on the nightstand. Kinn never would have thought he would enjoy this ritual so much, but nothing soothes him more than Porsche's gentle voice as it brings the characters and worlds between the pages to life in the light of the dim floor lamp, and the pup in his arms.

They always read two chapters because no one can resist Porchay's big, doe-like eyes after the first one. By the end of the second chapter, the pup has often already fallen asleep, and Kinn sneaks out of bed as quietly as possible. He and Porsche each give Porchay a quick kiss on his dark head of hair before retiring for some alone time.

Porchay slows them down.

In the last three weeks, Kinn has spent more time on his private rooftop terrace than in the entire previous year. Here, on balmy nights, he and Porsche lie on the soft lounger under the roof of the sun island and have trays full of delicacies brought to them from the kitchen. His Omega has developed a taste for French charcuterie platters, and Kinn is only too happy to feed him meat, olives, and small pieces of cheese.

Or they take a nighttime dip in the pool. Porsche has simply taken to leaving his clothes at the edge of the pool whenever he feels like it and getting into the water naked. There he waits with that particular smile on his lips, waiting for his Alpha, who is driven absolutely crazy by it.

There's a knock.

"Come in!" Kinn straightens up. He's glad for the interruption and closes the file.

The door to his study opens. It's Big, who bows low before the Alpha's desk.

"What is it?" Kinn opens a bottle of water that's been left out. There's a sizzle. He pours himself a glass of water and takes a deep sip. He can't have whiskey every day, he has to admit that.

Big clears his throat and lets his gaze wander around the room.

"Goddess, Big, out with it. I'm not my father. So whatever it is, I'm not going to bite your head off."

"You are the least of my problems," Big murmurs quietly.

Kinn must have misheard, and he raises ab eyebrow in warning.

Big straightens his shoulders and looks at the Alpha.

"Khun Kinn. I think you're needed in the lobby immediately. We have a situation that might require your intervention." He says, suppressing a nervous cough.

Kinn pushes back his chair and instinctively reaches for the weapon in his belt. He'd reloaded the cartridges himself this morning, even though he wasn't particularly keen on using the weapon today.

"Can you be a bit more specific? How many bodyguards are on standby? Do we have the situation under control?"

He immediately switches into crisis mode.

Big raises his hands apologetically. "It's not that kind of situation, Khun Kinn. But see for yourselves, please follow me."

Kinn frowns and hurries after Big down the long corridors to the elevators. There, he stares at the floor indicator, which seems to be counting down far too slowly.

Then they reached the ground floor, and Kinn practically bolted out of the cabin.

He stopped abruptly, trying to assess the scene before him.

Kinn could see Porsche. His Omega stands in the middle of the entrance hall with his back to Kinn, leaning over something, but the Alpha couldn't make out what it was. The muscles in his back were tense.

The bodyguards on duty stood against the walls, but they made no move to intervene. They looked almost a little frightened.

What was going on? Kinn was about to make his presence known when his gaze falls on the seating area.

Tankhun is sprawled out on the light leather sofa. Arm and Pol are standing behind him, calm and perfect posture. Porchay has fled into Tankhuns arms and presses his face against the older Omega's chest.

Kinn quickly reached them, and Porchay almost threw himself into the Alphas arms. Kinn catches him and humms soothingly. He checks the teenager for any visible injuries, but Porchay appears unharmed.

"What happened?"

At that moment, a growl sounds, and Tankhun lets out a kind of gleeful squeal and claps his hands. "Arm, I'm increasing my stakes by 100,000. Someone bring me popcorn, this is a feast!"

His eyes have a playful twinkle and glitter mischievously. Arm nods and types something into his tablet. A startled bodyguard disappears toward the kitchens and utility rooms.

There's a dull crack, and Porchay flinches. He whimpers, and Kinn tightens his grip on the teenager.

"You have to do something, he's going to kill him," Porchay whispers, but Kinn still hasn't grasped what's going on.

At that moment, Porsche turns around, and Kinn can finally see his face.

The Omega has a gentle smile on his lips, but his pupils are dilated, and the expression in his eyes is animalistic. His nostrils quiver slightly.

Only now does the Alpha see that a figure is crouching at Porsche's feet. Then the smell hits him.

"Kim!" Kinn tries to jump up, but Porchay clings to the Alpha, preventing any movement beyond a few centimeters.

Kinn can only watch as Porsche grabs his little brother by the nape of the neck and shoves him forward like a naughty toddler. Finally, the Omega comes to a stop in front of the seating area.

Kim is crouching on his knees, blood running down his temple and dripping onto the polished marble floor. He clutches his left wrist, which is bent at a strange, unnatural angle.

Porsche bares his teeth and stands before the badly battered Alpha.

"Kim Khimhant Theerapanyakun. I believe I must first give you a little lesson about who you're dealing with here. I am the Omega of this house. The wolf at Kins's side. The man to whom your brother gave his bite. Who do you think leads a pack? Oh, I can tell you. On the surface, it may seem as if all the strong Alphas are in control, but that's just an illusion. An Alpha is nothing without his Omega. Our word is law. You answer to me. You submit to me, and if you break my rules, then I am your judge."

He growls again.

"I actually thought you were quite clever, but that assumption of mine was clearly naive. If there were even a spark of sense in your head, you wouldn't have made this foolish mistake. It wouldn't have even crossed your mind. How dare you?"

Now Porsche is shouting.

"That's my pup you attacked. My most treasured possession, the one I thought was safe, and then was betrayed like this. By someone he should have been safe with, someone he should have been able to trust. A member of the pack. There's no excuse for this. My pup is dragging himself back to me, sick. And if you weren't Kinn's little brother, I would have torn you to pieces the second you walked into the compound. You're lucky Porchay's here, and for reasons completely beyond my comprehension, he doesn't want me to kill you. And I don't want to upset my pup any further. If that weren't the case, your remains would be scraping up by a cleaning crew from the floor right now. Let this be a warning. No one, absolutely no one, will harm my pup in any way, physically or mentally."

Kinn is both shocked and fascinated. He's never seen a Porsche like this before. The air around his Omega seems almost to shimmer, and the Alpha feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. That's his mate there. And deep down, he knows there's nothing more dangerous than this Omega, seeing his pup threatened. The wolf in his chest practically purrs and licks its muzzle. He's extremely pleased with his choice.

"You will apologize immediately. I want to see your forehead on the ground and then you're out of here. If I even see you near my pup or notice you daring to breathe the same air as him, then I can't guarantee for anything anymore."

Kim glances up at Porchay for a brief, fleeting moment, but then he presses his head against the marble floor and shrinks down.

"I apologize. Porchay, I beg your forgiveness. Even though I can never undo what happened. I'm truly, truly sorry." His voice breaks at the end, and Kim sees his shoulder tremble.

Porsche smiles contentedly, but then Porchay breaks free and charges toward Kim.

Tankhun lets out a surprised sound, Kinn freezes, and Porsche tries to grab the teenager, but Porchay is faster.

The teenager kneels beside the Alpha. The blood on the floor mixes with fresh tears dripping from Porchay's dark eyes. He grabs Kim's long hair and yanks the Alpha's head toward him. Kinn can see Porchay's knuckles peeking out white beneath his skin.

Porchay stands up, but doesn't let go of Kim. Now the Alpha is forced to kneel and look up at Porchay.

“It’s me, I’m the judge. I haven’t been a little child for a long time. Only I make the decision, and I won’t forgive you. Not today. Maybe never, but Hia…” Porchay turns to Porsche and meets Omega’s determined gaze. “I chose him. None of you will be able to change my mind.”

And suddenly there’s something new. Porchay’s scent. Still sweet, still a hint of milk, but beneath it, the lilac is in full bloom.

Kinn hears Tankhun’s soft laughter. “This is going to get interesting.”

Chapter Text

The Young Omega sits with his legs crossed on the far too fluffy bathroom rug. Porchay snuggles into his new pink bathrobe, a gift from Tankhun, and holds the package of disposable wax strips closer to his face. He studies the small print on the back and grimaces. What was all the fuss about? It's a date, a simple date, nothing to worry about or worth blocking the bathroom for hours on end.

Nevertheless, Porchay had locked the bathroom door. Better safe than sorry. He certainly didn't want to be disturbed. In fact, it was his very first date, but Omega didn't want to dwell on that too long, or he'd start to panic, and he didn't want to worry. Orders to the top. He was making completely neutral preparations. Nothing special. Even though he'd just changed his mind. The small cardboard box ends up in the bottom compartment of the shelf. He certainly wouldn't let that near his legs; he'd much rather book an appointment at the spa, but not today. Porchay sighs contentedly. Tankhun would be proud of him. The great Omega would probably have had a minor heart attack, or at least a fainting spell, if he'd known that Porchay intended to pluck the hair follicles out of his slender legs with cheap wax and paper, which was almost certainly mostly plastic. He could already hear the horrified shrieks in his ears. Better that way. After all, his eyes already watered when he tried to pluck his own eyebrows.

Porchay stands up awkwardly and steps back and forth a little. His left foot had fallen asleep, having been wedged under his bottom. As the blood slowly returns to his limb, Porchay places his phone on the shelf next to the two sinks, scrolls through the menu and starts his playlist. Loud bass and rousing guitar riffs fill the bathroom, and the Omega starts to dance a little on the tiles. His feet tap up and down to the beat, and his hips sway smoothly from side to side.

Porchay hangs up his bathrobe and lays out some towels, then steps into the shower cubicle, which is so spacious it could almost be its own little room. He fiddles with the levers and knobs on the gleaming fixtures until the water, at just the right temperature for his liking, cascades down on him like a heavy downpour. Steam rises, misting the glass walls and the large mirror above the double vanity. Porchay closes his eyes for a moment, focusing only on the sound of the water and humming softly along to the music. He stands there far too long before finally reaching for the light blue shampoo bottle. He blinks a few drops of water from his eyes and checks to make sure he's grabbed the right tube. Last week, he accidentally washed his hair with Kinn's expensive body oil, and it took him three more washes to get the smell out. Horrible. Kinn really should store his products somewhere they won't interfere with Porchay's beauty routine. It's not like this is the alpha's shower in his and Porsche's bathroom, which adjoins their bedroom. No, not at all.

Actually, it's a perfectly legitimate occupation. Pups have priority. Porchay grins a little and massages the shampoo into his roots. Then comes the conditioner, and while a deep green hair mask works its magic, Porchay rests his legs, one at a time, on the wide stone bench built into the shower wall and intently shaves from head to toe. He doesn't want any nicks. When his calves feel like a powdered baby's bottom, he lathers up with shower gel, probably wasting another pool of water. Well, almost, he doesn't have to tell anyone.

After turning off the shower, Porchay wraps himself in a huge towel and tiptoes over to the mirror. He runs his palm over it to wipe away the condensation. His cheeks are noticeably flushed, and Porchay tells himself that it's clearly just from the hot shower. He's not nervous. Serum, rich moisturizer, sunscreen. The Omega routinely follows his daily skincare order and dries his black hair with the hairdryer.

Back in Pink, he tiptoes into Porsche and Kinn's dressing room, where an entire wall has been cleared for him. He and Tankhun had a fantastic day when they went out to fill the empty clothes racks and closet compartments. Kinn's older brother had prepared a mixture of sweet and salty P

Opcorn lounged on velvet sofas in the private dressing rooms of luxury boutiques, either smilingly approving of the outfits Porchay modeled one after another like a pro, or relegating them to the pile of fashion faux pas. In the end, a second van had to be called to transport the bags and boxes back to the compound, but Tankhun simply shrugged and pulled out his credit card.

Porchay's gaze sweeps over the various garments. He wants to look good, but not overdressed, and definitely not too contrived. After careful consideration, he chooses a pair of light blue vintage Levi's jeans that accentuate his backside in all the right places. He pairs them with a white linen shirt and a buttery-yellow cashmere sweater. Porchay looks cute and nods to his reflection in the mirror.

In the bathroom, he styles his hair and applies a touch of neutral lip gloss. Done.

Porchay grumbles softly as he sees what awaites him in the entrance hall. He should have known. His heart did give a slightly embarrassing little jump at the sight of Kim, and his stomach fluttered, but this euphoria was immediately dampened when Porchay sees who is standing next to Kim.

Porsche has his arms crossed in front of his chest, his eyes are like two ice crystals, and he doesn't take his eyes off Kim for a second as he hugs Porchay in greeting. "You look lovely."

Kim wants to say something, but Porsche doesn't even let him speak.

"You'll bring him back at exactly nine o'clock. Not a minute later, or you can pick a finger you'd like to lose first. I prefer the index finger. If I hear anything stupid about you, you'll pay. I like my money bloody. Remember that. I'm watching you."

Kim swallows.

Porsche breathes a kiss onto Porchay's hairline. "Have fun, pup. You can call me anytime."

"Yeees," Porchay replies, drawing out the words and resisting a bit until Porsche finally lets him go. "Hey, I'm not a baby anymore."

But the Pack Omega remains unimpressed. "At nine!" he repeats stoic, and the announcement isn't meant for Porchay.

Porchay breathes a sigh of relief as they step outside, no longer feeling Porsche's gaze directly on the back of his neck, even though it's quite clear Porsche doesn't intend to strangle him. No, the victim of Porsches newest killing plans walks beside Porchay. 

"I survived." Kim grins and offers Porchay his hand, who hesitantly places his own hand in the Alpha's. Their fingers intertwine.

The ants in his stomach return, and Porchay intently examines the laces of his white sneakers. Kim brings the back of the Omega's hand to his lips.

"You look enchanting." The Alpha gazes at Porchay affectionately, and he blushes.

He mumbles a little. "You don't look bad either."
Under the awning, Kim's gleaming sports car awaits. Tiny water droplets adorn the dark paint and windows. It must have been raining when Kim drove up from his penthouse. Porchay considers grabbing a jacket, but Kim opens the passenger door for him.

The Omega can't stop himself; his thoughts spill out. "Is it going to keep raining? I can just grab a jacket. Do you think other shoes would be better? I don't want them getting ugly water stains. Are we outside? You won't tell me exactly what we're doing, but if we're outside, I'm definitely not dressed for it."

"I'll make sure you don't get wet. Don't worry." Kim smiles.

"Okay, if you say so," Porchay grumbles quietly and slips into the passenger seat.

The leather is just as comfortable as he remembers. Porchay inhales subtly as Kim walks to the driver's side. It smells of Kim's cologne, the sharp note of the Alpha's own scent, and a hint of leather polish. A heavenly blend. Porchay notices his hands are trembling and quickly clasps them in his lap as Kim settles into the driver's seat.

"Are you okay? I'm sure Porsche will be overjoyed if you spend the evening at his place. We can go another day, maybe when the sun is shining. Big could come with us." Kim speaks quickly, almost stumbling over his words.

"Alpha, don't do this. I'm already nervous, and if you start now, I'll start sweating, and I just remembered I don't have any deodorant. I'm here. I want to be here. Don't ruin this for me. We'll manage. Together. And I'm certainly not going to live with the uncertainty of what you've planned any longer." Porchay tries to grin, and Kim sighs, but he smiles back.

"All right. You're right, I am really nervous. I feel a bit like a schoolboy who bought his crush an overly sweet soda at the kiosk and is definitely going to spill it in his excitement."

Is the Alpha blushing? When Porchay squints, he can actually see the hint of blush on Kim's neck and ears. A completely new sight.

"You shouldn't keep this Omega waiting any longer. Drive, Alpha!"

Kim quickly turns the key in the ignition, and the sports car's engine purrs to life like a cat stretching in front of a warm fireplace, basking in the warmth.

They leave the tall steel gates of the compound behind them, and Kim weaves the car into the dense traffic. It's still raining, and the windshield wipers switch on. They glide monotonously across the windshield.

People crowd the sidewalks, heading to one of the many restaurants or bars, or making their way home. Mud splashes onto patent leather shoes, and children, holding their parents' hands, joyfully jump into the puddles that have formed in the ruts and dips. Colorful umbrellas paint their own unique kind of rainbow on the gray asphalt. The street gleams in the headlights, and the bright advertisements of the many signs on and in front of the buildings are reflected in shallow pools of water in the early darkness.

Porchay presses the button on the built-in stereo and quickly switches it off again when the all-too-familiar sounds drill into his heart. Kim grips the steering wheel a little tighter, but he says nothing. They drive for almost half an hour, most of it spent staring out the window, before Kim finally parks in what seems like a much too small parking space at the side of the road.

He hurries to the trunk and finally appears with an open umbrella by the passenger door. Porchay gets out. Kim's black curls are a little damp, as is his leather jacket, and the Omega picks up a small droplet that has strayed onto the tip of Kim's nose. The Alpha holds his breath.

"Come on. Get me somewhere dry. You promised I wouldn't get wet."

They walk close together, and Kim's arm casually finds its way to Porchay's waist. He feels the warmth radiating from the Alpha and presses himself a little closer. The ants are having a party, and his heart wants to be the DJ. Great.

“I’ll give you my jacket on the way back.” Kim looks a little worried.

“I have you.” Porchay looks up at the Alpha, who has stopped.

They are standing in a small side alley. A single shop window a few meters away is lit, a colorful wooden sign hangs in front of it, and the streetlights flicker. The rain continues to patter against the umbrella, but Porchay doesn’t really hear it. Instead, he hears Kim’s breathing and his own blood in his ears very clearly.

The Alpha shakes his head. “I wanted to behave.” And it sounds as if he has to convince himself.

“I didn’t promise anyone I’d follow the rules.” Porchay gathers all his courage, stands on tiptoe, and presses his lips to Kim’s. They are soft, and Porchay feels his own lips begin to tingle. The Alpha stands completely still, every muscle in his body tense, and Porchay is about to pull his head back when the tip of a tongue darts forward, gently caressing the Omega's lips. She begs for entry, which Porchay grants with a soft moan. His hands find Kim's leather jacket and grip it tightly. Their tongues begin a game in which the Alpha quickly gains the upper hand. Kim places a hand on Porchay's cheek and pulls him closer. They kiss until they are breathless, and Porchay feels as if the ants have set the club on fire. Their breath hangs white between them, and Kim's pupils have dilated.

The Alpha straightens up. "Let's go inside. We're here."

Wonderful, they are a walking cliché. Porchay's knees tremble slightly.

A bell tinkles as they enter the shop behind the brightly lit window. Inside, it's warm and smells of paint. Tables of all shapes and sizes are scattered around the room. Most of them are occupied by college students, laughing and chatting as they dip their brushes in paint, but in the back corner sits an older couple, both with gray hair, simply sitting peacefully side by side, concentrating on their work. Steaming teacups sit beside them.

A young man in an apron covered in paint splatters approaches them. His laugh is warm.

"Welcome to Paint Your Style. Have you been here before?"

Kim shakes his head. "No, but I made a reservation. Khimhant Thepnakorn."

Porchay chuckles a little when he hears the name Kim chose.

"Ah, I remember. We spoke on the phone. Your table is in the back." The employee nods.

The Omega's eyes begin to sparkle. "Can you paint ceramics here?"

"Yes, that's exactly what we're here for." The young man winks at them.

"You can use anything you see. Please wash your hands briefly before handling the ceramics. Once you've chosen something, bring it to me at the front, and I'll dust it off for you. Then you can get started. Paint on whatever you like. There are no limits to your creativity. When you're finished, hand your piece back, and we'll fire it for you. Then you can either pick it up, or we'll send it to you as soon as it's ready. It's that simple. All clear?"

Porchay walks along the tall shelves that completely line the walls. The selection is enormous: cups, plates, bowls, teapots, tins, vases, candlesticks, various figurines and shapes… Kim quickly chooses a cup and is already sitting at their table, which is somewhat hidden in a small alcove. Colorful cushions are scattered on the chairs, and soft music plays in the background.

Porchay finally returns with a small jewelry box and sits down next to Kim. The Omega adjusts his cushion until he finds a comfortable position.

"You haven't even started yet!" he exclaims.

"That's not true at all. I've primed the mug. With white." Kim's eyes flash.

Porchay rolls his eyes at the reply and opens the tube of pale green, pouring some of the paint onto his palette. He adds yellow and white to the mix.

Kim dips his brush in black and begins to paint musical notes all around the mug.

They are silent for a while.

“I’m so happy you came with me today. I know I don’t deserve this chance, and you’re giving it to me anyway. I want to do better. You deserve for me to do it right this time. I know there won’t be another chance after this. I have this one opportunity, and I’m going to prove to you that I can do it.” Kim’s voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

Porchay puts his brush down and places his hand on Kim’s. “Alpha.”

Kim shakes his head, but he leaves his hand there. “No, you don’t need to comfort me. I hurt you terribly, and I’m sorry, even though there’s no excuse. You streaked across my sky like a comet, and I ran away from the new like a coward, terrified. As if I were being told for the first time that the Earth revolves around the sun.”

“Your life hasn’t been easy. I understand why you’re distrustful; you want to protect your family. Just like Porsche wants to protect me.” Porchay strokes the back of Kim’s hand with his thumb.

Kim laughs coldly. “As if you had it easy. I’m incredibly grateful to your brother for taking such good care of you. My possible family trauma is no excuse to act like a fucking asshole. I was an asshole.” He sighs.

Porchay moves closer to Kim and rests his head on the Alpha's shoulder. His nose traces a line down Kim's neck and he presses a quick kiss to his throat.

"You try, and that's taken you further than those who never want to change their actions or beliefs. I believe in you."

A smile steals across Kim's lips and he kisses the tip of Porchays nose. "You´re a little miracle."

"It's a miracle that he needs help with his daisies. Do something, Alpha."

Laughing, Kim picks up the brush Porchay had put aside and begins rescuing some mishaps on the porcelain flowers. The Omega watches him, offering instructions here and there.

It feels good to sit here with Kim, keeping their hands busy, and Porchay is almost wistful when it's time to leave.

"We'll be back," Kim promises as he pays for their ceramics.

Outside, it's gotten cold, and Porchay shivers. He wraps his arms around himself. The rain has stopped, but the world around them is still damp. Kim drapes his heavy leather jacket around his shoulders and hugs him from behind. Porchay is immediately enveloped in the Alpha's scent.

"Porsche will kill me if you catch a cold. He really should find something else to do. This is getting boring. Still, let me take you to the car quickly."

The Omega turns and flutters his long eyelashes. “But I’m hungry, Alpha. We couldn’t eat anything while we were painting because of the ceramics.”

“That’s right.” Kim tilts his head.

So they eat spicy noodles in sauce in the car, which Kim bought at a street restaurant, and if the Alpha then pulls the Omega half onto his lap to exchange sweet and sour kisses, and Porchay's tummy gets all warm and he feels a tiny throbbing between his legs, then that's absolutely none of Porsche's business.

Of course, Kinn and Porsche notice their pup's flushed cheeks when he enters the compound right on time, but they say nothing.