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Stupid, idiotic Kinn and his stupid, idiotic husband, and their stupid, idiotic plans.
If Kim had known this was how his day was going to end up, he never would have agreed to this stupid, idiotic ‘family vacation’ in the first place. But he’d been caught in a moment of weakness (read: half asleep) and had been bribed heavily (read: promised snacks), and so here he was.
Really, it was his fault for agreeing to go on the vacation in the first place, but Tankhun had looked so excited, Kim couldn’t say no. Not after… well, everything. He just hadn’t accounted for the Porchay of it all, but then again, when had he ever?
So here he is, stuck in an abandoned—Cabin? Shack? Whatever—with Chay, watching their only way out get buried under more snow.
“They’ll find us, it’s okay,” he finds himself saying, watching Chay pace back and forth across the creaky floorboards. He tosses his phone to the floor next to him, the no service message taunting him.
“Great, yeah, and when exactly do you think that’s going to happen, Kimhan?”
Okay, so maybe they weren’t exactly on Phi/Nong terms, but his full name? Kim thinks that’s a bit much.
“I don’t know, Porchay. But if you think Kinn and Porsche don’t have tabs on our every move, you clearly don’t know the family.”
Chay stops in his tracks. He scoffs, turning to look at Kim for the first time since they hobbled their way into this shelter. “You think I don’t know the family? Are you serious? Are you seriously saying that to me, Kim?”
Well, fuck. Kim had hoped to avoid confrontation, but—
“Me? After everything? You think I don’t know what this family is capable of?” He tosses something at Kim, who catches it without looking.
In his hand are four trackers; they’re Kinn’s preferred brand. Kim looks up and is met with a hard, angry stare.
“Helmet, goggles, snowboard, boots. I’m sure there are more, of course. Don’t patronize me, Kim. I know this family.”
Kim sets the trackers aside, the red lights blinking—at least they’re working. “I'… I’m sorry, Chay.”
Chay laughs, the sound a bit manic. “For what exactly?” He gestures to the musty space they’re stuck in. “For following me when I specifically said not to? For trying to be gallant and getting yourself hurt in the process?” Kim’s leg twinges, like it knows it’s being talked about. “For coming on this trip int he first place? Why are you here, Kim?”
Kim shrugs, helpless and hopeless. “I saw the weather turning, and I didn’t want you getting lost or hurt. I was just… trying to help.”
“No,” Chay says, and his voice wavers over the word. “Why are you here? Why did you come on this trip at all? You aren’t supposed to be here.”
That catches Kim by surprise. “I… It’s a family vacation, isn’t it?”
Chay shakes his head, a bitter smile twisting his mouth. “And since when are you interested in being part of this family?”
If there was one thing Chay was always good at, it was finding Kim’s insecurities, the ones he tries so hard to hide, and chipping away at them. He’s glad to see that hasn’t changed, even if everything else has.
“When was the last time you came to the compound? The last time you showed up for family dinner? Or one of Tankhun’s movie nights? You can’t even be bothered answering your phone when I—” Chay stops himself and takes a deep breath. “When we call. So don’t try to tell me you want to be part of this family.”
Kim doesn’t know what to say. “I got a new phone,” he mumbles, avoiding Chay’s piercing gaze. “My old one broke in the… well. You know.”
“You got a new phone. And I suppose that’s what you used to record that song, right? Instead of, oh, I don’t know, telling your ‘family’”—he enclosed the word in air-quotes—“that you got a new number so they wouldn’t worry about you.”
He’s sore, his hip is bruised and his knee is probably sprained, but Chay’s words hurt the most.
“I didn’t think—”
Chay throws his hands up. “That’s the problem, Kim! You don’t think! You just walk through life like you’re still a solo act, all brooding and mysterious, while there are people out there who care about you, you stupid asshole!”
Kim sits there, the cold seeping into him from the cold floor, his jaw slack. Chay towers above him, anger painting his cheeks red.
“You never come home, but you haunt that house, Kim. There’s reminders of you everywhere—do you know what that’s like? To be surrounded by a person who’s never there? Who might as well be a ghost in your life?”
Yeah, Kim has an idea of what that’s like. One of the Polaroid photos of the two of them is in a frame on his bedside table. It’s the last thing he sees at night, and the first thing he sees in the morning.
“I thought this ‘vacation’”—more air-quotes—“would be a chance to get away from that, but here you are. You’re just always… here.”
“I’m sorry,” Kim says, and he means it, just like he did on the front step all those months ago. Then, Chay’s eyes had been shiny with heartbreak, but now, all Kim sees in his eyes is anger.
Chay sighs and his shoulders drop. “I know you are, Kim. That’s what’s so shitty. I know you’re sorry, but you won’t stick around long enough for me to accept your apology.”
Something hopeful flutters in Kim’s chest at Chay’s words. “Well… I can’t exactly go anywhere at the moment,” he says, gesturing to his leg.
Chay huffs a laugh and comes to sit next to Kim, leaning against the wall next to him. “No escaping this time,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m going to hug you now, okay? But I want it made clear—I’m only doing this so we don’t freeze to death before our brothers stop making googly eyes at each other long enough to come find us.”
Kim clears his throat. “Understood,” he nods, sitting up straighter. Chay moves, settling himself in Kim’s lap so they’re chest to chest.
“Is your leg okay?” he whispers, breath warm against Kim’s neck.
“Mhm.” Even if it wasn’t, Kim would suffer through it if it meant keeping Chay right where he is.
Chay unzips their jackets, snaking his arms into Kim’s jacket and wrapping them around his waist. Kim follows suit, hesitant, like permission might be rescinded at any moment.
“Are you warm enough?” Chay asks, rubbing his hands across Kim’s back.
“I am now,” Kim breathes. He buries his face in the crook of Chay’s neck, smiling when Chay hisses.
“Your nose is freezing, Phi,” he whines.
“Oh, so I’m Phi again?” Kim asks, pretending his heart isn’t soaring into the sky with happiness at the sound of the honorific. He wasn’t Phi to anyone else; he’d missed it.
“For now,” Chay mumbles. “We have things we still need to talk about. I’m still mad at you, but… I don’t want to be, anymore.”
“Okay, Chay. I’d… I’d love to talk.”
Chay nods, burrowing closer. There’s no more talking, and Kim uses the silence to memorize the feeling of Chay in his arms, in case this is the only chance he gets to hold him like this again. He hadn’t been diligent about such things before, and the feeling of waking up to Chay in his arms had faded as the months wore on. This time, he’ll be better prepared to weather the time apart.
Their brothers find them like that, huddling for warmth in the dark corner of the cabin. There’s an annoying amount of fussing over his leg, but Chay holds his hand in the helicopter when they get airlifted out, and that more than makes up for it.