Chapter Text
Porsche’s birthday comes not too long after his talk with Kinn. Usually his birthdays follow a certain formula. Kinn does something outrageous that makes Porsche feel the need to pay him back with sex. Chay finds him a sentimental present, not so big it makes Porsche feel uncomfortable but always something he’ll treasure, and makes Kim sign the card. Vegas cooks him dinner and Pete gets him something dumb. He receives fancy-boy assistant-selected gifts from Tankhun and various business associates trying to get in good with Kinn and brings them to the bar for the staff.
It's as much as he could ask for - more than he could ask for, after years of birthdays celebrated with only handmade cards from Chay, sporadic presence of Uncle Thee and maybe a pizza. And last year, he didn't even want that.
It felt so unfair that his mother had died that he couldn't bear to celebrate being alive. He could barely get out of bed that day. There were so many things he’d wanted to tell her when she got better, so many things he wanted to hear she accepted about him and celebrated him for, and sympathized with, and somehow his birthday made it so deeply painful that would never happen.
It was far enough into his grief that he didn't want it witnessed. He made Kinn go into work and tried to sleep the day away. In the evening, they ordered takeout and Chay came and watched a movie with them, which was as much of a celebration as Porsche could stomach.
He kept doing his embarrassing new thing of leaking tears all over Kinn, and it obviously upset Chay to see him so out of control with grief. Porsche had gone back to bed halfway through the movie because he couldn’t stand being observed like this. After Chay left, he’d cried himself back to sleep with the blanket over his head while Kinn sat next to him and rubbed his back.
With that as a low, and his seventh birthday in the mental hospital, anything that happens this year will seem fine in comparison. Porsche still misses his mom horribly, but it isn't as acute and he isn't as angry about it. He can admit to himself now that she was never going to get better and be his mom again, no matter how many years Porsche waited. It doesn't hurt less, but it's a different pain than before.
A few days before, Kinn sits down on the mattress as they're getting ready to go to sleep. “Hey,” he says. “What do you want to do for your birthday?”
He only started asking last year, when it became apparent that Porsche would probably not be up for a helicopter ride, or indeed for leaving the apartment. Porsche appreciated all of the surprises that came before, but he really doesn't want to ride an elephant or go deep-sea diving this year.
“It would be nice to have dinner with you,” he says, after thinking for a minute. “Maybe… maybe like a tasting menu or something?”
“Is that enough?” Kinn asks, his forehead wrinkling adorably. “We can…”
“Maybe not on my birthday?” Porsche suggests, and picks at the blanket. “It's… I love it, but…”
“Too much?” Porsche didn’t know those words were in Kinn’s vocabulary, if he’s honest. And he still feels bad he’s not up for whatever Kinn Theerapanyakun extravaganza Kinn might have been planning for the last few weeks. But…
Porsche shrugs. “Maybe.”
Kinn nods, his forehead smoothing out, which is the opposite of what Porsche thought he’d feel about being told no. “Khun wants to have a dinner for you too, maybe on Sunday night?”
“Whenever,” Porsche says. This is different too. Tankhun always gets him presents, of course, but throwing a party is different than sending Pol to the family jeweller. “I'm around.”
The dinner with Kinn is exactly what Porsche wants. It's private and the food is great and Kinn isn't an elephant away, or linked in on the radio system with a whole helicopter crew, or reduced to a pair of flippers and a snorkel disappearing into the sunlight on top of the water, as he has been in previous years. They talk. They hold hands. It's good.
They go home and don't have sex, because Porsche still feels too tender. It's still good. Kinn asked for the wine pairing at dinner, and he rarely drinks now, so he's tipsy and in a sweet mood. He keeps kissing Porsche and sneaking touches, like they're teenagers hiding from overprotective parents.
“I love you,” he says, as Porsche spills him into bed. He reaches out and pulls Porsche after him, dragging him close. “I love you, I love you.”
“I love you too,” Porsche says, and realizes that his face hurts from smiling. It’s a good birthday.
Dinner is… different. There's gaudy boxes stacked on a table in Khun’s foyer, and Arm and Pol are nowhere to be seen. It feels like the dinner Tankhun throws for Kim and Kinn (and now Chay’s) birthdays every year rather than a silly little thing for Porsche.
Porsche is part of the family, of course. He comes to family dinners.
But they're not for him. He never lets Tankhun. He barely lets Chay cook for him. He's the one who's supposed to look after his family. He's the one…
“He's here,” Pete calls, sticking his head into the foyer. Kinn follows Porsche in from the hall and puts his arm around him, drawing him deeper into Khun's suite, and Pete meets them halfway and shoves a stem of champagne into Porsche's hand. “Happy birthday.”
Even Pete being here is familiar, because for the last couple years, Tankhun has also thrown a joint party for Pete and Vegas, whose birthdays are only a couple weeks apart. But it's really different for Porsche to let it be for him.
“Hia!” Chay says, and comes up to flank Porsche on his other side. “Try this, P’Vegas made it.”
He shoves something into Porsche's mouth, and Porsche nearly chokes on the bite. “Big,” he mumbles, and Chay gives him a sly look, like he’d been planning this so Porsche couldn’t protest. Porsche doesn’t like Chay being sly, but… Chay’s probably right that he’d have trouble simply accepting that people are fussing over him. If his mouth wasn’t full he’d say things about it.
“Careful,” Vegas says, and comes up to give Porsche a very French kiss on his chipmunked cheek, which must be at least partly to drive Kinn wild. Porsche feels Kinn's grip tighten on his waist, but he doesn't snap at Vegas or say anything dickish to Porsche, which is another different thing. “Don't choke on your birthday.”
It's not my birthday anymore, Porsche almost says, but his mouth is really full. He still feels shy about all the attention on him and wants to pull back, but Kinn and Chay are pulling him forward and he’s helpless to the two of them working together.
Tankhun meets him at the door of the dining room and puts his arm through Porsche's, pulling him along like a riptide. “A little bird told me you don't feel like part of the family,” he says, and shoves Porsche down into the chair next to his at the head of the table. “Honestly, nong.”
Porsche's mouth is still full but he glares at Vegas. It doesn't do anything - it's like trying to make a cat feel guilty for pushing things off a shelf. Pete gives him a sympathetic little smile, but Porsche can tell he’s also kind of amused.
Tankhun doesn't belabor Porsche’s forced induction to the Theerapanyakun birthday traditions, just waves Kim into his seat next to Kinn and sends Chay to bring Chan in from the balcony, where Porsche can see he’s taking a work call. They eat, and there's cake and then…
“Presents!” Tankhun declares, and Pete and Chay get up to bring the gifts from the foyer.
People always get him birthday presents, but this year is different too. Kim goes first. “From us,” he says casually, and slides an oblong package - maybe a book - across the table.
Porsche is quite sure that all of his gifts from Kim previously have been handled by Kim's manager’s assistant. They've been very suitable and appropriate bottles of nice liquor or boxes of fine sweets, beautifully wrapped and dropped off at the desk in the lobby on the morning of his birthday.
It's kind of heartwarming that Kim has actually gone out and purchased a bartending book or something on his own initiative. Porsche opens the wrapper and…
It's not a book. It's a stack of documents. It's…
“It's the apartment across the hall from us,” Kim says. “Chay thought you'd like it. It's too weird inviting people over to the tower.”
Porsche gapes at him. He's far too stunned to properly say thank you. These are the gifts the Theerapanyakun brothers give each other for their birthdays. Porsche isn't…
“Don't worry, hia, our apartment is very sound-proofed,” Chay quips, and everyone at the table laughs.
“It just makes sense with security for you to be in our building if you ever want some space or a crash pad,” Kim continues. “And we're close to the bar.”
“I…” Porsche says, and looks over at Kinn, trying to see if he's angry.
He's not. He gives Porsche a little wink, like he'd known this was coming. I needed my brother, Porsche remembers saying, and now he'll always have him, and a security detail on the place he sleeps, as long as Kinn wants to keep Kim safe too.
“Thank you,” Porsche says. “I um… it'll be nice to be close to you guys if I ever want to stay near the bar while Kinn’s away.”
Tankhun gives him decorating services for his new apartment and an appointment together with a personal shopper. “I'm done letting you look so scruffy, nong,” he lectures, his arm over the back of Porsche's chair. “There's no escaping my good taste.”
Kinn gives Porsche a watch that costs as much as a nice car. To show him up, Vegas gives him a two-seater Porsche. “Your parents owned it for a little while,” he says. “I thought you might like it.”
“This is ridiculous,” Porsche tells Vegas, holding the keys a little too tight. He still really wants any piece of his parents he can grab.
“You’re welcome,” Vegas says and squeezes his arm.
Chan and Pete are still normal people, thank god. Chan gives Porsche a nice bottle of scotch and Pete gives him a stupid keychain for the new car, a box of cheap cigars and a dumb novelty t-shirt.
“Thank you,” Porsche says to everyone, because his mom raised him enough to do that. “I don’t know how…”
“You’re family,” Tankhun scolds him. “Family doesn’t say thank you. Besides, it’ll be so much easier to shop for your birthday if you just let me get you some clothes! I can’t wrack my brain every year to get you a peasant gift! It gives me wrinkles!”
Porsche laughs, and Tankhun squeezes his shoulder, and Kim gives them a happy little grin Porsche doesn’t see much, so that must be the right answer. Porsche isn’t an idiot. He won’t make them uncomfortable with shovelfuls of gratitude. He swallows down the lump in his throat and proposes a toast to Tankhun for hosting.
In bed that night, he gives in to his impulses and crawls into Kinn’s lap while he reads his book. “Hey,” Kinn says, and folds the book back onto the nightstand, but doesn’t take off his glasses. “Good birthday?”
Porsche nods. His throat feels all thick. “I, um…” he tries to say. “It…”
“Khun’s really happy you let him do a family party for you,” Kinn says, and holds Porsche close against his chest. “It didn’t make you too sad?”
Porsche shakes his head. And then he nods. “I uh…” he tries to explain. He can’t really find the words for what he’s feeling. He just puts his head down on Kinn’s shoulder.
“It’s okay if you miss your mom,” Kinn says, tentatively. “I… I know.”
Porsche shrugs. He always misses her. “Vegas said I was his cousin,” he mumbles into Kinn’s shoulder, and feels more than sees Kinn make a yuck face. “Yeah, I. I know you don’t…” He stalls out. Maybe it’s better not to talk about this. Kinn doesn’t want reminders that they’re almost related, it’s sort of…
“He was the one who said we should do a dinner for you,” Kinn says. “I thought you wouldn’t like it, you’re always… half-in, half-out, I guess. I never wanted to let Khun push you too hard.”
Porsche nods. “Maybe… every year?” he asks, and his voice is thin again. “I uh. I liked the party, I…”
“Did you like the apartment?” Kinn asked. “It was Kim’s idea, but I helped a bit.”
Porsche nods again. “He would want me around?” he asks, and noses into Kinn’s collar. Obviously the answer is yes, but Porsche still just wants to hear…
“Of course,” Kinn says. “You’re his brother-in-law, and…” He tries to pull Porsche away from his shoulder and Porsche resists. “Porsche, you’re one of us, you know that. You’re part of the family just as much as the rest of us. Was that…”
“I’m just some bartender,” Porsche rasps. “I don’t…”
“You’re ours,” Kinn says, and pulls Porsche close instead of further away. “You’re… you’re family, okay? Don’t ever doubt that you’re family to me, just as much as my brothers. I love you, Porsche Kittisawat. That’s not a little thing.”
Porsche nods. “Family,” he repeats, and takes a long, deep breath. “Right.”
Three weeks after that, Porsche is lying in bed under Kinn, his legs wrapped around Kinn’s waist as Kinn grinds down against his dick through two layers of clothing. Porsche’s shirt is rucked up to his collarbone and the top button on his pants is unbuttoned, but otherwise they’re mostly dressed.
He sucks Kinn’s bottom lip into his mouth and gives it a friendly little nip, and Kinn grunts. “Go… go do your thing,” he says, and pulls away. “I wanna eat you out tonight. Go…”
“But…” Porsche protests, because this is fun. But he also really likes Kinn’s mouth down there, and it’s been a while since they’ve done it. Kinn bites down hard on his shoulder. “Unh. You’re sure?”
“I have to wrap up a couple things before I can give you my full attention,” Kinn says, pulling back. Porsche snakes his hand down and squeezes Kinn’s cock, because his attention is feeling pretty full at the moment. Kinn briefly goes cross-eyed with pleasure, and then he pulls back. “If you don’t want to, we can go now, but I’ll have to get up again to finish some work. I’d rather go through my emails and know I’ve got you to look forward to.”
Okay, that’s pretty hot. “Fine,” Porsche says, and Kinn smiles down at him. “Don’t say I don’t do anything for you.”
“I would never,” Kinn agrees, and brushes another soft little kiss across Porsche’s lips. “Come find me when you’re done.”
Porsche nods, and rolls out of bed, shimmying out of his pants as he heads to the bathroom. “Don’t forget about me,” he orders, and when he looks back over his shoulder and sees the look Kinn is giving his ass, it seems like he doesn’t have much to worry about there.
It doesn’t bug him so much to prep anymore. Pitta made the point that maybe he dreaded it because his whole sex life was something he felt so uncertain about. If they didn’t have sex, he’d wasted his own precious leisure time and wound up feeling neglected. If they did, especially towards the end, there was a good chance he'd have to nurse Kinn’s erection until they finished and the pressure he put on himself to do that fucked with his head. He can admit now that he wasn’t really getting what he needed when they fucked, even if at the time he couldn’t have said or even thought that.
He finishes what he’s doing and hops in the shower, idly jerking himself to stay hard. He’s excited for Kinn to touch him, even if he still feels a little selfish. He likes knowing Kinn is thinking about him as he reads his stupid, boring emails.
He fingers himself a little as he’s cleaning up and doesn’t think much about it, just that it feels good to touch his body this way. When he feels fresh again, he roughly towels his hair dry and grabs Kinn’s bathrobe off its hanger.
Kinn’s waiting for him on the bed. He stands up when Porsche opens the door and takes two big steps across the room, pinning Porsche against the wall, one hand kneading at his ass. “Look so good,” he murmurs, and Porsche grins.
He squirms so Kinn’s leg is slotted between his, rubbing against his hard cock through the silky fabric. Kinn pulls him in, encouraging him to grind down as he traces his tongue down Porsche’s neck, following a drop of water into the hollow of his clavicle.
It feels good. It all feels good. It’s good to be Porsche today.
“On the bed?” Kinn asks, and Porsche nods. Kinn spins him and has him laid out naked on top of the covers in the blink of an eye.
Kinn drops on top of him, and Porsche moans as Kinn’s focus shifts to his chest, nipping and sucking at his nipples and the swell of his pec as his free hand kneads into the muscle there. “Fuck,” Porsche manages. “Kinn…”
“I have you,” Kinn tells him, looking up at Porsche very seriously. “I’ll get you there, don’t worry.”
He kisses over Porsche’s stomach and Porsche starts to tremble. He’s been on edge for a while, in bed after Kinn came home from his dinner, and all through his prep and his shower. And he feels present in his body in a way that’s been hard for a long time, but is good now. He’s feeling it all so much.
Kinn noses at his balls and encourages Porsche to spread himself open so Kinn can press close. His tongue against Porsche’s hole makes Porsche shake again. It’s so good. It’s so, so good.
But it isn’t quite enough, not tonight. “Fingers?” he asks, and that’s good, Kinn working him open as he licks into him.
“More,” he keeps demanding. “More, please Kinn, more.”
Kinn works his pinky in alongside his first three fingers, and Porsche throws his head back and breathes through the stretch. It feels so good to be full again, to have Kinn between his legs, but…
“Kinn,” Porsche protests. “C’mon, I…”
“I don’t have more for you,” Kinn says, pulling his face away enough Porsche can see him. “I think we should probably talk about fisting before we…”
“Fuck me,” Porsche demands, and Kinn makes a comic little o of surprise, his mouth falling open. Porsche takes a deep breath, trying to figure out if he meant it just as talk, but…
No, he really wants it. “Please, Kinn, I really, I want… Just be a little gentle, but…”
“Okay,” Kinn says, his voice very rough. He’s got the lube on the bed between Porsche’s legs. “You’ll say if…”
“I really want it - I need it,” Porsche says. “I’ll tell you, please, I…”
“If you want it,” Kinn says, and sounds destroyed. Porsche whines as he takes his fingers away, but then the head of his cock takes its place, and Porsche has to take a deep breath and let it out as Kinn presses home.
“Oh,” he says, helplessly, as Kinn slides in. It feels achy, like it always does at first when they fuck, but it’s an ache he’s missed so much. “Kinn, Kinn -”
“Good?” Kinn asks, planting his elbows on either side of Porsche’s head. “Good, Porsche?” he asks.
Porsche takes a long, raggedy breath and lets it out again. “So good,” he says, and his voice shakes a little. He scrabbles down Kinn’s back, grabbing his ass to encourage him to fuck in, and Kinn does, his hips rolling to grind his cock back and forth against Porsche’s prostate.
Porsche gets a hand between them and lets Kinn’s thrusts push his cock up into his own hand. His orgasm is quickly building, but…
“I love you,” Kinn says, and a droplet of sweat rolls off his nose, hitting Porsche’s chin. “Fuck, you…”
Porsche feels Kinn’s whole body shake with the effort of not coming, and that’s it. He spills into his hand, working his hips down desperately so Kinn is as deep inside him as he can get.
His toes curl. His nose runs. His back pops. Maybe he cries. He can feel himself spasming around Kinn’s hard cock, and he waits for Kinn to fuck into him and take what he wants.
Instead Kinn pulls out. “Good?” he asks, rolling Porsche onto his side. Porsche makes an affirmative grunt, and squeezes his thighs tight together so Kinn can finish. It only takes a few thrusts, but it’s so much better than being pounded into forever while he's sensitive and wondering when it will end.
He feels like he’s attained nirvana after, lying in Kinn’s arms with Kinn’s cum drying between his legs. Kinn is holding him so tight that Porsche can hardly breathe and Porsche never wants to let him go.
He feels a little sore, but in the best way, like he's gone for a long run or hit a PB with his trainer. He squeezes Kinn's hand and turns his face into the mattress, grinning. Vegas is right that this probably didn't fix everything forever, but hot fucking damn, it helped.
Kinn takes a shuddering deep breath, and then another. He buries his face in Porsche's shoulder. Porsche feels warm, wet tears on the skin of his neck.
This feels right, somehow. Kinn is the one who cries. Porsche is the one who comforts him.
Porsche rolls over so they're nose to nose, and kisses Kinn's gasping mouth. “What's wrong?” he asks. “It was good for me, Kinn. Don't…”
“I'm so sorry,” Kinn gasps. “I'm so sorry I took that from us. I'm so sorry, Porsche.”
Porsche isn't sure what to say. It's okay is out, because it's not. I forgive you isn't right either because that's going to be a while. “I love you,” he says instead. “Kinn, don't…”
Kinn looks up at him, eyes wet. He looks so young and sorry. Porsche doesn’t have it in him to tell him not to cry.
He kisses Kinn’s forehead instead. “Don’t beat yourself up,” he says instead. “That’s not what I want. Come…”
He tugs on Kinn’s leg, because Kinn is still clinging to him, but they could always be closer, and Kinn throws it over Porsche’s shins. That still doesn’t seem to be enough for whatever hungry thing lives inside Porsche, so he peppers Kinn’s face with kisses and gets a laugh by licking up a tear from his nose.
Kinn turns into a kiss on the side of his mouth, and suddenly he’s kissing Porsche like he wants to eat him. Porsche hesitates, but he trusts Kinn to ask before he starts anything else and he can feel Kinn soft against his stomach. He opens to it, lets Kinn lick into his mouth and suck Porsche’s bottom lip until it’ll be bruised and swollen for days.
Kinn’s still crying a little when he finally pulls back. “I love you too,” he says roughly. “I love you so much. I want to fix things so badly.”
“This was good,” Porsche says, and threads one hand into Kinn’s thick, sweaty hair to pet him like a dog. “I think… this helped.”
Kinn nods and presses another barrage of kisses against Porsche’s face and neck. “Thank you for staying,” he says, his voice rough again. “Thank you for picking me. I’m sorry I’ve made it so hard.”
That hits deep. Porsche nods. “Can you try to make it a little easier for me, from now on?” he asks, and his voice goes thick too. “Just… you’re all I have, don’t…”
“I’ll remember,” Kinn says, and takes a deep breath. “I’ll do better, I promise. Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?”
Porsche shakes his head. “Let’s just stay like this,” he suggests, and so they do.