Chapter Text
The red sports car announced itself before anyone saw it.
The low growl of the engine echoed through the parking garage beneath Khem’s apartment building, cutting cleanly through the evening air. Charn was leaning against the railing of the second-floor walkway when the sound reached them, his attention already sharpened by the tension that had been sitting in his chest all day.
Jet noticed it first.
He leaned forward instinctively, hands gripping the metal railing as the car slid smoothly into view below. The vehicle gleamed under the fluorescent lights, sleek, unmistakably expensive, and entirely unnecessary.
Jane squinted. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Por Kru’s lips curved into something knowing. Khem straightened beside him.
The driver’s door opened slowly.
Kachen stepped out like he knew he was being watched.
Black leather jacket. Black boots. Sharp features made sharper by the way he tilted his chin up toward them, sunglasses still perched casually on his nose. He adjusted them with two fingers before finally looking up at the group gathered above him.
Jet’s face lit up immediately.
“P’Kachen!” he called, leaning farther over the railing, smile bright and unguarded.
The sound of his voice, happy, open, hit Charn harder than he expected.
Charn stood to Jet’s right, close enough to feel the rush of warmth that radiated off him, close enough to see the way Jet’s eyes shone. Kachen was… objectively attractive.
Tall, long-limbed, confident in a way that came from knowing exactly who you were. His hair was slicked back just enough to look intentional, and when he finally slid his sunglasses off like he was stepping onto a runway instead of into a parking garage, Charn felt the smallest, sharpest flare of irritation.
Jet was too happy to see him.
Kachen grinned up at them, lifting a hand in greeting. “Miss me?”
Jane groaned audibly. “No.”
Kachen laughed, already moving toward the stairs.
—
By the time they were all packed into Khem’s apartment, the air felt heavier.
Jet sat on the edge of the bed beside Jane, shoulders relaxed now that Kachen was here. Charn took the chair by the desk to Jet’s right, posture straight, hands folded too neatly in his lap. Khem sat at the vanity, Por Kru leaning against the wall near him, arms crossed as he surveyed the room.
Kachen positioned himself front and center, leaning back against the table, sunglasses now hooked at his collar, gaze flicking easily between all of them.
“So,” Kachen said, smiling. “You look terrible.”
“Thank you,” Khem replied flatly.
Por Kru sighed. “We didn’t bring you here to insult anyone.”
“Of course not,” Kachen said. “That’s just a bonus.”
They were mid-explanation, Por Kru recounting how long they’d known each other, how Kachen had helped before, when Kachen’s attention locked onto the drink in Jet’s hands.
He pushed off the table and crossed the small distance between them easily.
Before Jet could react, Kachen plucked the bottle from his fingers.
“Hey—” Jet laughed. “P’, Por Kru just said you need to get wiser, too.”
Kachen didn’t answer right away.
He looked past Jet.
Straight at Charn.
Charn froze.
Kachen smirked.
Then he dropped into the space between Jet and Jane, slinging an arm around Jet’s shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world, pulling him back until Jet was pressed lightly against his chest.
Jane made a face. “Oh my God.”
Kachen leaned in close to Jet’s ear, close enough that Jet could feel his breath, but his eyes never left Charn’s.
“Jet,” he murmured, voice low but intentionally audible, “you know me.”
Jet let out a breathy, embarrassed laugh, squirming slightly. “P’Kachen—”
“My age isn’t the only thing that’s bigger.”
Jet squeaked and shifted, still caught in Kachen’s loose hold, cheeks heating as he laughed despite himself.
Across from them, Charn stared.
Not openly. Not obviously.
But his eyes tracked the line of Kachen’s arm, the way Jet’s back fit too easily against him, the familiarity that settled into the space like it had always belonged there.
The chicken skewer in Charn’s hand bent slightly under his grip.
Kachen leaned in again, voice dropping even lower.
“Huh,” he said. “You forgot?”
Jet noticed then.
Noticed the way Charn’s gaze had gone sharp, focused, then abruptly turned away.
Charn huffed quietly and took an aggressive bite of the skewer, jaw working as he stared at absolutely nothing.
“Shall we dig up old memories, huh?” Kachen continued sweetly, still watching Charn.
Jane’s hand landed on Kachen’s shoulder with quick, sharp smacks. “Quit it. Can you stop messing with my brother?”
Kachen laughed, lifting his arm in mock surrender, though his grin stayed firmly in place. “What? I’m just catching up.”
“You’re being annoying,” Jane snapped.
Jet finally slipped free, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassed but still smiling faintly. “P’Kachen just… likes to tease.”
He glanced at Charn when he said it.
Charn looked up.
Their eyes met for half a second, long enough for Jet to see the tension there, the way Charn was holding himself together by sheer force of will.
“I’m fine,” Charn said quietly, before Jet could say anything else.
Jet didn’t believe him.
Kachen, however, looked delighted.
“Oh,” he said softly, leaning back against the table again. “So that’s the situation.”
Charn stiffened. “What situation?”
Kachen’s gaze flicked between them, amused and sharp. “Relax. If I wanted Jet, I’d have done something about it years ago.”
Jet blinked. “You didn’t.”
Kachen shrugged. “Exactly.”
Jane snorted. “Thank God.”
Charn swallowed hard.
Because even knowing the truth, even trusting Jet, the ache didn’t disappear.
Jealousy wasn’t logical.
And as Jet shifted closer to him later, knees brushing, not quite touching, Charn felt it all the more keenly; they were waiting.
They were choosing restraint.
And Kachen knew exactly how to test it.