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Broken Heart of Gold

Summary:

He shook off the thoughts of the one who had once stolen his heart.
He couldn't afford to get emotional.
Not here, not now, not ever.

Notes:

So this was started all the way back in August. Wrote the first draft on the plane on my way home. And it's been up and down since then. I wanted to keep it short but not to short. Thank you to everyone who has helped me beta, polish and been a cheerleader. Special thanks to Granny cuz she's Granny

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The engines roared around him, sending shivers up his spine. He had missed the racing scene. He had missed Thailand. He hadn't been back in so long, years really. He doubted anyone remembered him. It wasn't why he was there. He wasn't there to reminisce. He was his mothers heir and was there to represent her and their clan as Khun Pakins guest.

And yet, maybe most of all, he missed him. He resisted the urge to touch the necklace around his neck, the cross that now was his to bear.

He shook off the thoughts of the one who had once stolen his heart. He couldn't afford to get emotional. Not here, not now, not ever. The young man he loved was gone. Long dead and buried, as was the boy he himself once had been. The chestnut dyed hair had gone back to its natural black. He had let it grow out longer; a tribute to the one he’d loved and lost.

But he couldn’t help reminiscing while he walked amongst the tents, seeing the mechanics inspecting the bikes with the pitbunnies hanging over the racers shoulders. If he hadn’t been so set on leaving his fate behind him, the young man he loved might still walk among them, making sure everything was ready for the racers. He might have shared a joke or two with his brother and best friend.

With a deep breath, he continued through the circuit, hoping that his old friends wouldn't recognize him. Praying that he wouldn't have to look into the eyes of his dead lover’s brother. Those same brown eyes carried by the boy he’d loved.

He had long since foregone his nickname in place of his Korean one. His previous nickname had just reminded him of what he had lost. The pain that had been caused.

It wasn’t just the nickname that he had left behind, either. He wasn’t the boy he once had been. The sweet loving boy who had been described as bright – someone with a sparkle. All the brightness and light had all been dulled.

Following the guards that had led him through the area, he entered the tent that was being held open for him.

“Khun Noeul! I'm glad you could join us. I was sorry to hear about your father. Please send my condolences to Khun Min.” The words sounded more diplomatic than genuine to him. Like it only was said because it was expected of him. But it was all the same by now. Everyone had sent their condolences when his fathers passing had been made public.

"I will make sure to tell Mae. But let's skip the smalltalk and get right to it, shall we? I was hoping to get back to Seoul by the end of the week,'' he said matter-of-factly. He didn't need to waste any time here. He didn't want to be here any longer than he had to be.

"Your reputation precedes you,” Khun Pakin smirked with a glint in his eyes. “They say you’re all about the business. I can appreciate that about a man. I will have my best mechanic show you the bikes in question. He should be arriving any minute"

He couldn't help but think that his best mechanic was no longer with them. He had long since been lost to the flames. The same flames that had left their marks all over his back.

Scars he would never get rid of.

He did his best to not react to Pakin playing with his lighter, but couldn’t help a small flinch. He had made some progress when it came to fire since that night, but he still woke up screaming more often than not.

“If my memory serves me right this isn’t the first time you’re visiting the circuit either, correct?” Pakin had phrased it as a question but his tone gave it away. They both knew very well that this was indeed not the first time he was walking amongst the tents at the racing circuit.

Just as he was about to answer, the older man stopped paying attention to him. Instead, he looked past his shoulder and said, "Ah, here he comes,” and raised his arm towards the opening of the tent.

"My apologies Khun Pakin, the traffic put us behind schedule," a far too familiar voice said from behind him. He could not help the hairs that rose at the back of his neck at the sound. It sounded too much like him. With a deep breath, he calmed himself, he knew it wasn’t him, that it couldn't be.

“Ahh apologetic as always, but let’s not think about that now. Come meet our guest. This is Khun Noeul, he’s the heir to the Min clan”

With a forced smile, the young man turned around to greet the mechanic. However, nothing could have prepared him for the man that was standing before him.

He was dressed just as the first time he had been at the races: in a black t-shirt and coveralls tied around his waist. The necklace was the only thing missing. The necklace currently resting against his own collarbones, the one he couldn’t help but reach for as he looked at the familiar man. The man looked as stunned as he felt, and took a sharp intake of breath before he let out a, "Rain?"

At the same time, he let himself whisper, "P’Phayu?"

 

Notes:

I'm going back into hiding now.

For the ones wanting more information before reading

They both think they lost the other one in a fire