Chapter Text
- six: the super long kiss that wasn’t intended -
Porsche sighs contently as Kinn gently scrubs his hair with the towel. His eyes are closed as Kinn works methodically, the only sounds in the bedroom that of their soft breathing and the quiet hum of the air conditioning.
Kinn's humming under his breath as he dries Porsche's hair, and it feels like heaven for Porsche. He can’t remember the last time someone took care of him like this, having had to be the sole provider for himself and Porchay for what feels like his entire life now. It's been a long time since he was last able to completely let go, to leave himself in the hands of another.
Porsche never expected that someone to be a mafia boss, the heir to an entire underworld, but sometimes life takes unexpected twists and turns. He's has come to appreciate those surprise turns.
He knows when Kinn finishes toweling his hair because he hears a muffled thud across the room. A small grin flashes across his face, because Kinn just threw a wet towel across the room for the laundry ladies to pick up in the morning.
“Spoiled brat,” Porsche mutters without any bite. His eyes open just slightly as he turns his head, intending to give Kinn a light peck on the cheek as a thank you.
To his surprise, his lips meet not the skin of Kinn's cheek, but the older’s lips. Kinn's hands fly to hold his face in his hands, mouth moving insistently against Porsche's.
The angle isn’t ideal, and Porsche can already feel a crick in his neck forming, but he really couldn’t give any less of a shit. He moves his lips in time with Kinn's, moving over and under the older’s soft mouth, covering it and nipping at it occasionally. Kinn lets out a breathy sigh into Porsche's mouth, and it sends tingles through his veins.
Porsche doesn’t know how long they sit there on the edge of the bed, kissing and kissing for so long their lungs begin to burn, their lips numb and slick. The wetness makes it better, makes the slide of their mouths easier and Porsche nudges Kinn's mouth open with his tongue, licking inside.
Eventually they have to pull apart to breathe. Porsche tries not to whine when they do, but then he catches sight of Kinn's face, his wide eyes and swollen lips, the way his chest moves up and down as he tries gulping in as much oxygen as he can. Porsche probably isn’t any better.
It wasn’t Porsche’s intention to kiss for so long, but he doesn’t mind at all. He really doesn’t mind when Kinn dives back in for more, fingers tangling in Porsche's damp hair.
- seven: a kiss on the hand before asking them to dance -
Kinn wakes up with a gasp and a scream on the tip of his tongue, his body drenched in sweat. It's dark when his eyes shoot open, body launching forward into a sitting position in the bed.
“Porsche,” Kinn croaks. His hand pats the side of the bed, but instead of colliding with his boyfriend’s chest or hip or any other part of his body, Kinn's hand meets cold sheets.
“Oh god,” he whimpers, panic settling in. That's it, Porsche is gone. He really did leave that day, he’s gone forever. “No, Porsche! Porsche!”
Kinn scrambles out of bed, limbs tangling in the sheets. He goes crashing to the floor, but at least the carpet breaks his fall somewhat. His elbow burns where it collided with the floor, but the pain in his bone is nothing compared to the pain in his chest.
Kinn’s too panicked to hear the bathroom door flying open and to notice hurried footsteps racing across the room towards him. He barely notices when a warm body drops to the floor next to him, arms wrapping themselves around Kinn and pulling him into someone’s lap.
“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here,” a voice soothes in his ear. Kinn realizes through his panic that the voice belongs to Porsche.
His hands grip Porsche’s t-shirt. “I…I thought…I thought you left for good,” Kinn whispers brokenly. His voice can’t go any louder than that.
“No, it was just a bad dream. I’m right here, darling.”
Porsche curls his body protectively around Kinn, as if he’s using himself as a shield to block any attacks on him. Kinn buries further into his lover’s chest, ear over the younger’s heart. He focuses on the soft ba-dump, ba-dump of Porsche's heartbeat, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
He calms down after a while, ragged breaths lessening into shaky exhales. All the while Porsche keeps him in his arms, whispering sweet nothings into the top of his head and softly petting his hair.
Even though the last vestiges of the nightmare are gone, Kinn still feels like he’s on high alert. There's still traces of panic swimming under the surface, enough to be a nuisance and preventing him from fully calming down.
“You’re still shaking a bit,” Porsche observes, voice hushed in the quiet of the night. “Hey, how does hot chocolate sound?”
It comes out of nowhere that Kinn freezes for a second, before he nods against Porsche's chest. With his boyfriend’s help, Kinn climbs out of Porsche's lap and sits on the edge of the bed. Warm hands cradle his face with so much care, as if Kinn is a piece of fragile glass.
“Do you want to come with me?”
Kinn shakes his head. He really doesn’t want any of the other bodyguards seeing him like this.
Porsche nods in understanding, hands sliding down to squeeze one of Kinn's own, but fear shoots through Kinn when he turns away and he grips Porsche's hand tight, jerking the younger back to him.
“Kinn, you’re going to have to let me go if you want me to get the hot chocolate. You can’t stay here while I do that, I can’t be in two places at once.”
Kinn's bottom lip quivers dangerously, and Porsche feels his heart break all over again.
“Oh, love,” he breathes, then gathers Kinn into his arms again and lifts the older up, holding tight. “It’s alright.”
~•~
Porsche takes a secret way down to the kitchens, one Kinn forgot even existed in the huge mansion. He walks slowly so as to not drop Kinn, then carefully sets the older man on the counter before going to the cupboard and stove.
The hot chocolate helps quite a bit. The warm liquid thaws the rest of the icy panic in Kinn's veins, calming his racing heart and mind. Porsche leans on the counter near his hip, sipping on his own mug of hot chocolate as he watches Kinn intently. Soft piano lilts through the air from the radio somewhere to Kinn's right.
They finish their drinks much too soon—at least that’s what it feels like to Kinn—and part of him really doesn’t want to go back to sleep just yet. He’s tired, he can feel exhaustion pulling at the corners of his eyes, but going back to sleep means gambling for more bad dreams.
Porsche must sense his hesitation, because a slight smile works its way across his lips and he’s pushing away from the counter and nudging Kinn off of it and onto the floor. Kinn watches, confused, as Porsche bows elegantly in front of him and holds out his hand.
“Give me your hand, love,” Porsche murmurs, eyes twinkling. Kinn obeys, albeit still slightly confused, and places his palm into Porsche's. Porsche lifts their hands to his mouth and ever so gently kisses the back of it. Kinn gasps, a shudder running down his spine.
“Care to dance?” Porsche asks, and Kinn can’t help but nod, feeling the confusion melting away. It's replaced with warm fondness as Porsche tugs him closer, settling the older’s other hand on his shoulder. Porsche's other hand rests comfortably on Kinn's waist, sliding into place as if it was always meant to be there.
Maybe it was. Maybe Porsche was his missing puzzle piece this entire time.
In slow, rhythmic steps, Porsche leads Kinn across the kitchen floor, turning and swaying in the moonlight drifting in through the window. It’s like they’re princes at a ball, gliding across the dance floor completely lost in each other.
Soon Porsche pulls Kinn flush to his chest, their entwined hands dropping. Kinn circles his arms around Porsche's waist, Porsche doing the same with his, and for a while they just sway back and forth to the melody of the piano track on the radio.
Words completely fail Kinn at the moment, so he simply kisses Porsche in thanks. Porsche smiles into the kiss, returning his thanks with a you’re welcome that doesn’t need to be verbalized. Not between the two of them, anyway.
- eight: kisses that travel from the person’s face down to their neck -
“Creep,” Porsche hisses. “Waiting outside the bathroom like that, were you trying to ambush me or something?”
“Something like that,” Kinn muses with a satisfied grin as he crowds into Porsche's space, pushing him backwards towards the counter.
“You’re so—shit!”
Porsche’s stomach lurches when he’s lifted into Kinn's arms and settled firmly on the bathroom counter, the marble cold against his ass. He’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having been interrupted and barely getting them on by Kinn barging into the bathroom.
Kinn wastes no time and immediately captures Porsche's lips, apparently having waited all day to get his hands on his lover after Porsche was whisked away by Tankhun for a shopping trip. Why on Earth Tankhun chose him of all people for that, Porsche will never know.
Moans and high whines escape from Porsche's throat as his mouth is ravaged by Kinn's. The noises he make only serve to elicit low growls from somewhere deep in Kinn's chest. Porsche can actually feel the rumbling vibrations where his hands knead Kinn's pecs.
They part with a wet pop, lips slick and red. Kinn lowers his head to nip along Porsche's jaw, teeth lightly scraping the skin. He travels backwards towards his ear before sucking, and Porsche mewls as his body arches into Kinn’s chest. He both loathes and loves that Kinn knows exactly where that sensitive spot is, ever since the diamond auction.
“Kinn—oh, Kinn, please,” Porsche whimpers helplessly as Kinn devours any available skin in front of him. He licks a column up the side of his throat, then starts biting and leaving little love bites up and down that pretty golden neck. He travels further down, nipping at Porsche’s collarbone, moving across to mouth at his shoulder before switching sides and doing it all over again to the right side.
The moan Porsche lets out is loud and high as he imagines his body come morning, covered in bites from Kinn's torturous yet amazing mouth.
“So sexy,” Kinn praises against Porsche's chest. “You make the most delicious sounds, baby.”
“Ah…mmm…”
Kinn continues even lower, covering one nipple with his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He gives the same amount of attention to the other nipple, and then resumes his trek down Porsche's body. Porsche is practically vibrating above him, each touch of Kinn's lips on his bare skin making tremors travel and sparks ignite all over.
Porsche gasps for breath when Kinn's lips lightly suck at the skin above the waistband of his boxers, breath warm against his heated, flushed skin. He buries a hand in Kinn's hair, fingers gripping the strands as Kinn mercilessly kisses and kisses.
“Not so talkative now, hmm?” Kinn smirks up at Porsche, eyes blown wide. Porsche doesn’t respond. He can’t even form the words, his brain is too occupied with the feel of Kinn lavishing his body with soft and wet lips. He pants loudly as an answer.
“Mmm, thought so.”
And then Kinn is pulling his underwear down and off his legs in one rough motion, and Porsche's head knocks against the mirror with a thunk.
I hope the mirror didn’t crack, Porsche bemoans absentmindedly. It's the last thought his brain provides before all his senses are taken over by Kinn, by a man who only lets loose his burning, fiery passion in front of one Porsche Kittisawat.
- nine: quick kisses that you steal from each other at parties -
The next time Porsche finds himself at a party, it’s one for the grand opening of a brewery under the Theerapanyakul name.
Casinos, textiles, luxury cars, technology, drugs, and now alcohol. Is there any industry that hasn’t been painted with the name of Thailand’s biggest underworld ruler?
Well, apparently not.
"It’s like they have a finger in every single industry in the world,” Porsche mutters to Pete. The other bodyguard stands next to him by one of the exits as they keep watch over the partygoers.
“What if I told you you’re not too far off?” Pete replies. His eyes don’t stray from where they’re pinned on Tankhun, who’s across the room at the bar with Arm and Pol on either side of him.
Porsche would’ve been stationed over there, but the dread and panic that threatened to drown him when it was first suggested almost made him puke all over Ken's suit. And of course Kinn noticed it—the attentive asshole—so he ordered Porsche to switch stations with Nok.
Porsche shakes his head in disbelief at Pete's words, but he’s not surprised. For a family long established like the Theerapanyakuls, he guesses it’s not unusual to have connections to literally every manufacturer in the world, never mind just Thailand.
He turns back to face the crowd of people in front of him, eyes scanning the guests for Kinn. Slight panic sets in when Porsche doesn’t find the man at the spot he last saw him—chatting politely with an older woman—and he’s just about to reach for the earpiece to alert the rest of the guards when someone appears in front of him and kisses him quickly.
“Who the—Kinn?”
Said man smiles fondly at Porsche, their faces so close Porsche could probably count every single one of Kinn's eyelashes.
“Just came to check up on you,” Kinn says. His smile is still fond, but Porsche sees the concern in the older’s eyes. He can’t help but smile at that, at Kinn's subtle action that means so much more than it seems on the surface.
Porsche confided in Kinn a few days ago, when this particular party had been scheduled, that after the night of the diamond auction he feels sick at the thought of standing guard near the bar.
“It’s so stupid,” Porsche had growled, frustrated, into Kinn’s neck. “I shouldn’t be so fucking scared, it’s just a bar, but I—I can’t—”
And Kinn had simply buried his hand in Porsche's hair, brushing it soothingly as he said, “It’s not stupid, Porsche. You have every right to be afraid. In fact, I’ll switch your position with Nok. You’ll be with Pete at one of the exits.” And that was that.
“Thank you,” Porsche smiles. Kinn beams back at him, before stealing another kiss and heading off to talk with someone else. Giddiness bubbles in Porsche's chest as he relaxes against the wall. He doesn’t even care that Pete stood next to him for that entire exchange.
Some time later Porsche spots Kinn in the corner, checking his watch after having been talking to people for the past two hours. He gives Pete a look, who just rolls his eyes good-naturedly and nods. Porsche grins at him in thanks before making his way across the room.
He’s standing in front of Kinn in seconds, and before Kinn can look up to see who’s approached him, Porsche dives in and pecks Kinn on the lips. He just smiles sweetly when Kinn stares at him, slightly shocked.
“Figured I’d return the favor,” is all Porsche says. He pauses, then winks for good measure.
Kinn grins widely at him, the kind of wide grin that’s so genuine it has the corners of his eyes scrunching up. He lightly tugs on Porsche's arm and kisses the younger quickly on the mouth.
And for the rest of the night Kinn and Porsche steal kisses from each other, circling around the room as they fulfill their duties, but always making it back to each other.
- ten: not being able to speak properly after the kiss ends -
Porsche senses the body behind him before he sees it. He stiffens as their footsteps draw nearer.
“Well,” the voice murmurs lowly. “Aren't you such a pretty thing?”
Porsche tenses. He doesn’t recognize this voice, it belongs to some stranger, a bodyguard for the other man Kinn is currently negotiating with. Porsche keeps his eyes firmly trained on his boss and boyfriend, face impassive as he tries ignoring this man crowding into his personal space.
“Not too talkative, I can work with that,” the man hums. Porsche feels a pair of eyes raking over his form, up and down, and it makes him slightly sick.
Thankfully, he sees Ken make a complicated signal with his hand from across the room. It's the one indicating to rotate positions so everyone gets a view of the area from different angles.
Relief floods through Porsche's body as him, Ken, Pete, Big, and Nok rotate around the room. He gives Ken a grateful look, who just nods in acknowledgment. But Porsche knows it’s the bodyguard’s subtle way of saying, “you’re welcome”.
Everything is peaceful for the next twenty minutes. Kinn and the man still talk, compromising and negotiating over a deal that Khun Korn thinks will be beneficial to both parties involved. Porsche stands there the entire time, keeping his eyes on Kinn.
“Think you could escape me?”
Porsche jolts at the voice in his ear. He turns his head slightly to find the other side’s bodyguard from before. Doesn't this bodyguard have, oh I don’t know, a job to do?!
“Such a beautiful thing you are,” the man continues. His voice is low, but there’s a leer to it that has Porsche's stomach dropping to his shoes.
“S-Sir,” Porsche curses himself for stuttering. “I—please—”
“Ah, what a precious voice to match a precious body,” the man whispers. Porsche feels nausea climbing up his throat. If it was Kinn saying that, his body would have a very different reaction. But it’s not Kinn, it’s this gross stranger who apparently can’t take a hint to leave Porsche alone.
Porsche is about to side-step the other man when he hears rustling where Kinn sits on the leather couch across from the other gang leader.
“Excuse me for one moment,” Kinn says, and Porsche only has a second to blink before Kinn's suddenly in front of him, yanking him forward by his arm and smashing his lips to Porsche's.
The surprise only lasts half a moment and then Porsche is kissing back, one hand coming to grip Kinn's hip while he throws the other around his lover’s neck. Kinn's hands hold Porsche's waist tightly, heat searing through the vest and shirt that Porsche is wearing. His lips slide against Kinn’s, in and out and in and out, over and over again until they’re panting into each other’s mouths.
Kinn's mouth completely covers his, devouring it like it’s the last thing he’ll ever taste. Porsche has a hard time stifling the moans that keep rising up his throat from Kinn so ferociously kissing him.
Heat encompasses him from head to toe as his senses are overtaken by Kinn, Kinn, Kinn. The fact that there are other bodyguards in the room, another gang boss just feet away from them, doesn’t bother Porsche nor Kinn in the slightest.
Suddenly Kinn’s nudging Porsche’s mouth open with his lips, touches his tongue to the other’s, and Porsche feels his knees tremble and hopes the whimper that left him wasn’t too loud.
Kinn gives one hard, filthy suck on his tongue before pulling back. He’s breathing heavy—they both are, their lips are shiny and covered in spit, swollen and kissed red. Fire dances in Kinn's eyes as he stares at Porsche, completely ignorant to the people and the world around them.
“I…wha…” Porsche mumbles. It's all he can get out, just meek sounds. To his shock he finds that his throat is as dry as sandpaper. Any and all words dissolve completely as he tries forming them. Kinn’s rendered him speechless, and it’s not just from the intense kiss they just shared.
It’s the first time that Kinn has so publicly and blatantly laid claim to anyone.
To Porsche.
~ bonus: tracing the other’s lips after kissing them because those are the softest lips you know and you kissed those lips ~
“I can’t believe you did that,” Porsche whispers before locking the door behind him and lunging towards Kinn. The older man catches him in his arms and Porsche crushes his mouth to Kinn's, sucking and biting and kissing as much as he can.
He can feel Kinn trying to pull back, to speak probably, but Porsche doesn’t let him. He winds his arms tight around Kinn's body, pushes their chests together and keeps kissing, hoping it’s just as intense as the one Kinn gave to him in front of that gang leader and all the bodyguards. Whatever word or sound Kinn tries to make, Porsche swallows it hungrily.
After a while, when their lungs begin screaming for air, Porsche reluctantly pulls back. His eyes flutter open and so do Kinn's. For a moment they can only stand there, entwined in each other’s arms in the middle of Kinn's bedroom. The only sounds in their ears are that of their labored breathing and the faint hum of traffic way down below.
Porsche lifts his hand and touches his finger to Kinn’s bottom lip. He traces it with the pad of his thumb, gliding over warm, kiss-slick flesh. Kinn’s lips are so, so soft, such a contrast from the sharp, concrete exterior he presents to the world.
Kinn’s mouth is so soft, probably the softest that Porsche has ever had the pleasure to kiss.
Porsche looks up into Kinn's eyes, boring into brown irises that shine with love and adoration.
“You’re mine,” Kinn whispers reverently against Porsche’s skin like a prayer. “Mine. No one else’s.” He pauses then, and the fire in his eyes lessens into a simmer. “I love you, Porsche.”
“I’m yours,” Porsche responds, then smiles. “I love you, Kinn.”