Chapter Text
Porsche hates Kinn. Hates hates hates Kinn. He has always hated him. Since he was born, his family has told him horrible things about the Theerapanyakul family. They’re cruel, violent, arrogant, and brutal. They're also their rivals. The Theerapanyakul and Kittisawasd family simply do not mix. They're not supposed to. No, they're working against each other.
So, Porsche despises them. And especially their middle son Kinn.
When Porsche is four and goes to kindergarten, he meets Kinn in person for the very first time. He's only ever seen pictures or heard stories of the three Theerapanyakul boys. But since the youngest of three brothers – Kim – is now going to the same kindergarten as Porsche, Porsche finally does meet the three boys. Sure, Kim and Porsche visit the same elite kindergarten, the best one in Bangkok. Still, they stay away from each other as much as they physically can. Their families hate each other. They do not play together or share their toys.
When Porsche notices Kinn and his father at the door, waiting to pick Kim up from Kindergarten, a deep line forms between his bushy eyebrows. Kinn is seven and already in school. He looks posh, athletic, and intelligent. And pretty. Kinn seems like he’s everything Porsche is not. He’s always one step ahead of him. He hates Kinn.
When Porsche is seven and goes to primary school, Kinn is already ten and preparing to go to an expensive private boarding school in England. Always one step ahead of Porsche. He hates him. Porsche sees him at the airport right before Kinn’s flight is supposed to leave because Porsche is picking up his uncle with his dad. His eyes land on the tall kid at the other side of the road, grabbing his luggage and talking to his mother as they step around the black luxurious G-Waggon. Porsche's eyes narrow as he takes in Kinn’s figure: Tall, broad shoulders, smooth skin. A sunny smile. He should not look like that at the age of ten! Porsche hates him. Hates, hates, hates him.
When Porsche turns eleven and prepares to go to an American boarding school, he has already heard stories of Kinn’s excellent British accent, exceptional grades, and fabulous international friends. Meanwhile, Porsche doesn’t understand one word in English and is terrified to leave his family. Kinn is still one step ahead of Porsche. And he hates him.
When Porsche is sixteen and incredibly homesick, his uncle shows mercy on the boy. He convinces his parents to allow Porsche to return to Bangkok and finish his school degree here. Where he is close to his parents and best friends. Home. Porsche cries when his parents tell him to come home over the phone and he packs his luggage at lighting speed, desperate to come home.
Kinn is nineteen when Porsche returns home and has already graduated from his luxurious British boarding school, wearing a bright, cocky smile on his graduation picture that he posts all over social media. Porsche doesn’t follow Kinn on social media. He hates him.
Hates his stupid, cocky smile. Hates that Kinn is older, more athletic, more intelligent, and more charismatic. Meanwhile, Porsche is a lanky kid who tries to gain muscles desperately, has two friends, and has to fly back home because he is too homesick to stay two more years in America.
Porsche hates Kinn.
This is precisely why he crosses his arms in front of his chest and clicks his tongue in annoyance when Kinn and his massive group of friends enter the restaurant. The same restaurant Porsche is dining in with his cousin. Great. He’s been home for barely three weeks and visits his favorite restaurant once, and who does he have to meet? Out of all people? Kinn.
“Oh,” his cousin breathes once she notices Porsche’s angry glare. “I didn’t know he’d be here.”
“Me neither,” Porsche grits through his teeth and tries to rip his eyes away from Kinn’s back, but he’s miserably failing. Something about Kinn lures him in. His eyes are glued to the tall man standing at the entrance of the restaurant, waiting for the waitress with a polite smile.
“Come on,” Mae says and gently strokes Porsche’s shoulder. “Don’t let him distract you, hm? He’s not worth it.”
Porsche doesn’t even listen to her. His eyes are glued to Kinn. The way he’s moving, floating through the restaurant with an easy smile on his face, thanking the waitress with a polite nod, and sitting down at the most enormous table in the middle. Porsche sits in the far corner at a tiny round table, which he notices with a dismissive grunt.
“Porsche,” Mae tries again. “Are you even listening to me?”
Porsche rips his eyes away from the table in the Center and shakes his head. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “Sorry.”
Mae sighs. “I don’t understand the rivalry between your families. I really don’t. Thank God I’m on the side of the family that has nothing to do with your weird rivalry.”
Porsche only shrugs, digging his fork into the mashed potatoes and shoving his food around. He’s suddenly not hungry anymore. “The Theerapanyakul family is evil. We hate them rightfully.”
Mae tilts her head, scanning Porsche’s face with a frown. “I don’t know. Kinn and his brothers seem alright to me.”
Porsche’s head snaps up, and he fixates Mae’s face with an evil glare. “What did you just say? “
She shrugs, ducking her head. “I said they seem alright to me.”
Porsche clicks his tongue in annoyance. “What the hell? Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“I’m just saying I visit the same karate classes as Kim, and he’s always very friendly to me,” Mae replies with a shrug, trying to seem nonchalant, but her tense shoulders give her away.
Porsche grinds his teeth. “You’re a traitor! I can’t believe I’m having lunch with you right now.”
Mae rolls her brown eyes and grabs Porsche’s hand, rubbing her soft thumb into the delicate flesh. “Relax, Porsche. I’m not betraying you at all. You’re my favorite, always. Okay?”
Even if they return to eating, Porsche still feels uneasy the entire time. He glances at Kinn multiple times during lunch, but Kinn never looks back. Why would he? He’s sitting in the Center; everybody is looking at him. And Porsche sits in the far back, unimpressive and boring.
“I’ll use the restroom,” Porsche mumbles and pushes his chair back. He rushes to the men’s toilet, feeling superheated suddenly. Needs a few minutes to himself. This is ridiculous. Kinn would never need to escape to the restroom like this.
Once he’s finished, he steps out of the small toilet booth, wanting to wash his hands. But the minute he opens the bathroom stall, his eyes land on a neutrally scolded face in the mirror and on broad, broad shoulders.
Porsche contemplates rushing back inside the bathroom stall, but Kinn’s eyes flick upward. Brown eyes fixate on Porsche’s face. Great. Fucking great. Porsche shivers at the intense stare. He takes a deep breath, preparing himself for what’s coming.
“So, the rumors are true?” Kinn asks, voice seemingly bored and uninterested. “You’re back in Bangkok?”
Porsche grinds his teeth and steps to the sink, keeping a respectful distance between him and Kinn. He refuses to give an answer and simply ignores the elder. Is this the first time they actually speak? Porsche doesn’t really remember if they ever did have a conversation before. He hates to admit it, but Kinn's voice sounds - nice.
“Was your girlfriend the reason?”
Porsches head snaps up in confusion, and he glares. Girlfriend? Who – “What? “
“Why did you come back?”
Porsche’s eyes flicker between Kinn’s back and forth, unsure what to say. He can't really admit that he was too homesick, so he had to come back home, right? So, he settles for: “None of your business.”
“It’s just unusual,” Kinn continues. He washes his hands with soap and avoids looking at Porsche. “Didn’t the entire Kittisawasd family graduate from Yale?”
Porsche feels the way his neck grows hot. Yes, his family did graduate from Yale. No, Porsche did not manage to follow in their footsteps. So, he barks: “Why do you care, hm? Why don’t you go back to your friends and your obnoxious table and leave me the fuck alone?”
“And why don’t you go back to America the way a proper Kittisawasd family member would? What are you guys plotting, hm? What are you up to?”
Porsche jumps forward, nearly throwing himself against Kinn and putting his hands around Kinn’s throat. But to Porsche’s most immense despair, Kinn puts his hands up and tosses Porsche around until his back hits the mirror against the wall. Porsche grinds his teeth, squirming in Kinn’s tight grip. “Let go of me.”
Kinn only grunts. As if keeping Porsche in his place barely means any exhaustion to Kinn at all. “I will, once you behave, kid.”
Porsche tries to kick Kinn in the stomach, but no matter how much he wiggles, nothing is working. Kinn is so much more muscular than Porsche! God, he hates him. Despises him so much.
Kinn puffs. “You’re embarrassing, kid. And you put shame on your family’s name. But what else can you expect from a Kittisawasd son?”
Porsche grinds his teeth when Kinn lets go of him, and rubs his hurting throat. “And you’re pathetic for attacking a kid!” He shouts back at Kinn helplessly. Because Porsche is, after all, just a kid. Barely seventeen. Kinn should know better! Right? Why did he even follow him into the bathroom in the first place? He hears a sarcastic chuckle when Kinn opens the door and lets it slam shut once he leaves, leaving Porsche behind feeling heated, embarrassed, and small.
***
When Porsche graduates right before his eighteen’s birthday, Kinn and his younger brother show up at the ceremony. For whatever reason. Porsche has no clue. But he definitely is annoyed at Kinn’s smirk that he wears on full display as the (now) man steps inside the huge ceremony hall. People turn their heads at Kinn, some are even bowing! Nobody is bowing to Porsche, that's for sure.
He grinds his teeth in annoyance at the sight and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Porsche turns away and is glad that he's standing in the opposite corner. He shuffles even further back, hoping that Kinn won't notice him. “Kinn is here,” he mutters under his breath.
Pete raises an eyebrow in surprise. “What? What’s he doing here? “
Porsche breathes through his nostrils and clenches his jaw. “Only God knows. Probably wants to annoy me to death.”
Pete turns his head around and searches the crowd of students and parents. When his eyes land on Kinn, he gasps. “Wow. I know we hate him, but he looks stunning.”
Porsche jabs his elbow into Pete’s rib cage and frowns. “He does not.”
Pete raises his hands submissively and shrugs. “Sorry. I’m just saying. He looks good. Has grown lots of muscles.”
Even more muscles? The last time Porsche saw Kinn, the elder had him pinned to the wall. Porsche only groans in despair, shaking his head and scanning the crowd for his parents.
But after a moment, he feels something shift. Knows that Kinn is moving and knows he’s coming closer. He doesn’t have to turn around to see him. No, he can feel his presence. And he hates it.
Because then, he hears “Congratulations, Porsche!” and Porsche internally groans. He rolls his eyes and decides to ignore him. But then, Kinn is moving right in front of Porsche’s line of vision, forcing him to look at the bastard and his cocky grin.
Porsche only raises his eyebrows, acting unimpressed, when he actually wants to punch Kinn in the throat.
“Remember when I thought you coming back to Bangkok was some kind of evil plot?” Kinn asks with an amused smirk. “Now I know poor Porsche was just homesick. No plans, no masterminds, nothing.”
Porsche grinds his jaw and keeps his mouth shut. Instead of answering him, he turns to Pete, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go outside.”
“Yeah, Porsche, run away, like you always do, hm?“ Kinn tries to trigger him, putting his hands into the pockets of his expensive trousers.
“And what are you doing, hm? Following me around like an obsessed stalker?” Porsche snaps and steps closer. People are surrounding them, so neither can do much. But Porsche can lift his nose and buff his chest. Because he has worked on his muscles more in the past months. Sure, he's nowhere near Kinn's body, but he's not as lanky as he used to be.
“Maybe you should finally start working for your father before you lose yourself in unnecessary business,” Kinn mutters, eyes flickering between Porsche’s eyes. “Like concentrating too much on me.”
Ouch. That one hurt. Because everyone expects him to finally join his father's business and take his place in the Kittisawasd line. But for some reason (And Porsche can't even explain it himself) it doesn't sit right with him. He's not ready yet. Doesn't know what he's supposed to do. Doesn't know how to support and help his father. He fears he would only mess things up. Porsche isn't like Kinn – a real businessman with confidence, knowledge, and power. He's just a kid who barely graduated from High School and doesn't know what to do with his life.
But Kinn doesn't know that. He isn't supposed to know that either. So, Porsche lifts his chin and barks: “Are you talking about yourself? Who came to my graduation party, hm?”
This makes Kinn snort. “What? Do you think I came because of you? My cousin graduated. That’s why we’re here.”
Porsche takes a step back, feeling a little embarrassed now. He presses his lips together and straightens his dark red robe.
Kinn watches him through sharp eyes. “Every time we meet, I realize how much of a kid you truly are. You are no threat to me, Porsche. You can’t even take care of yourself.” He pats Porsche’s shoulder and steps away.
Porsche breathes through his nostrils, trying to calm himself down enough to not jump Kinn’s back.
***
Porsche realizes he might have a thing for women and men after he turns eighteen. He doesn’t do anything about it, obviously. No. But he watched a k-drama and got confused because he found both the actress and the actor extremely attractive, which means he likes both, right?
Maybe.
He could talk to Pete about this, but that might be too personal, even for their close friendship. So, Porsche keeps this to himself. Keeps it a secret.
Doesn’t really overthink it.
Especially not when he visits a couple of universities and checks out their different programs. When he steps into the big assembly hall of one of Bangkok's prestigious universities, his eyes immediately land on a tall figure with broad shoulders standing on the big stage and giving a speech about building an empire.
Porsche’s eyes immediately glue to Kinn, mouth falling open. The last time he saw him was during his graduation ceremony almost a year ago. And for some annoying reason, Kinn gets more and more attractive every time Porsche sees him. He doesn't do it often, but Porsche does keep an eye out on Kinn’s social media accounts. And no, he doesn’t stare at that one selfie of Kinn where he’s shirtless and smiling into the camera. No.
When Porsche manages to snap out of his trance, he shakes his head and immediately flees the scene. Hell no. He doesn’t need another embarrassing encounter with Kinn. Because at this point, Porsche has accepted that he’ll never be as cool, intelligent, independent, and successful as Kinn. Doesn’t even want to be any of that anymore. He’s okay with driving his motorcycle around the city, practicing Taekwondo, reading, and swimming. Doesn't think he'll ever join his father's business.
The only reason he checks out those universities is for his parents. They want him to do something, anything really. So, Porsche agreed and promised to attend some of the universities' open days, not knowing Kinn - out of all people - would be here to give a speech.
Porsche rushes out of the university but, to his immense despair, gets lost on his way out. The hallways all look the same, and too many people swarm around here, pushing Porsche into a new corridor way too many times.
When he reaches the inner courtyard, Porsche takes a deep breath and gives up for now. He takes out his cigarettes and lights one up, inhaling the smoke into his lungs. He doesn’t even know when he picked up smoking. It just happened while he was studying for his final exams. Helped him ease the stress.
He doesn’t expect anyone to approach him. So, when he hears the too familiar voice, Porsche coughs around the smoke, eyes burning with unshed tears. He feels a hand on his back, firmly clapping against it and helping him to get the air back inside his lungs.
Porsche shakes his head and steps away. Doesn’t want Kinn’s hand on his back right now.
“What are you doing here?” Porsche asks, voice hoarse and smokey. He looks up at Kinn and starts coughing again. Jesus. It should be illegal to be this attractive and have such a shitty personality at the same time. Kinn stares at Porsche through unreadable eyes, tilting his head in amusement.
“I gave a speech, as you already know,” Kinn states with a smirk. “What are you doing here?”
Porsche holds up his cigarette. “Smoking.”
“I can see that,” Kinn rolls his eyes. “I meant, what are you doing here?”
Porsche turns his head around. “Checking out the campus? What the hell do you want from me?”
Kinn clicks his tongue in annoyance and shakes his head. “You’re insufferable. Go and smoke, then.”
Porsche snorts and takes another drag of his cigarette, and this time, he appreciates the burn in his chest. He almost expects Kinn to step away, but he doesn’t. Instead, Kinn turns towards Porsche once more and says: “I can never figure you out, you know.”
Porsche lifts his head to look at him.
“I figure out everything and everyone around me. But you continue to be puzzling to me.”
Porsche snorts this time, flicking the cigarette away. “Why do you even bother?”
“Because you might be a threat,” Kinn quickly shoots back, puffing his chest.
Porsche snorts again, staring down at his shoes and shaking his head. “I’m no threat.”
“You might be,” Kinn argues, studying Porsche’s face with sharp eyes. "You're a Kittisawasd son, after all. I must keep an eye out on all of my enemies. And I manage pretty well, but with you?" He shakes his head, lips formed into a thin line. "You confuse me."
Porsche rustles inside his bag and grabs his keys. “I’m not." He steps forward and lifts his head, holding Kinn's firm stare and not shying away this time. "I'll let you in on a little secret: I don’t fit into the Kittisawasd line.” He doesn’t even know why he says what he says next. It just slips out of his mouth. And he regrets it the second he says it. “I'm not like you. I don't make my family proud.”
Kinn’s eyebrows lift up in surprise, and he opens his mouth, clearly wanting to say something. But Porsche doesn’t want to hear it. He feels mortified by that confession. So, he ducks his head and rushes away, bumping his shoulder against Kinn’s when he runs away.
***
The music is playing loudly, the beat is pumping in his veins, and people are shouting over the loud music. But Porsche drank enough to feel comfortable. He’s only nineteen, sure. He doesn’t have that much experience with partying and going to clubs. But he’s interested in all the different drinks they offer at the bar, watches the barman mix a funky-looking cocktail, and orders one after the other, trying to figure out how to mix each.
Porsche’s head swims in alcohol. He giggles happily when the bartender hands him another drink, this one dark blue and shiny. The boy pulls a face at the sharp taste and gags, making the bartender laugh. “It’s strong,” the dude explains with an easy smile, and Porsche nods. Strong, yeah. He can taste that.
He flinches in surprise when a warm hand wraps around his waist and turns around. The moment his eyes focus on the person next to him, Porsche’s heart skips a beat, and his tongue feels unusually dry in his mouth.
“Vegas,” the bartender greets him, and Vegas nods at him. But then, his focus is back on Porsche, penetrating eyes digging into Porsche.
Vegas – the eldest son of the secondary mafia family. One of the Theerapanyakul family’s biggest rivals. Porsche knows who Vegas is, obviously. Everyone knows everyone in this business. So, it’s no surprise that Vegas knows who Porsche is, too.
“Porsche,” he greets him with a smirk. “Haven’t seen you around here before.”
Porsche swallows and nods. Uh oh. Why is he unable to form a proper sentence all of a sudden? He’s growing nervous in Vegas’ off-putting presence. Vegas tilts forward, lips brushing past Porsche’s earlobe, and mutters: “I own this club. You do know that, right?”
Porsche does, in fact, not know that. He nods anyway and clears his throat. “Yeah. I – um. I just wanted to have a good time. And since this club belongs to you, I won’t be disappointed, am I right?”
Vegas raises an eyebrow, looking slightly impressed by Porsches’ quick-witted reply. But then, he nods and says: “Sure. But sitting around and drinking your body weight in liquor isn’t much fun, is it?”
Porsche only shrugs and turns back to his dark blue, shiny drink.
Then, a firm hand wraps around Porsche’s wrist, and Vegas pulls him up and away from the bar. “We’re dancing,” is all he tells Porsche. And then, they’re on the dance floor. Vegas puts his hands on Porsches’ hip, his fingernails digging into his skin. The elder pulls Porsche close, making his breath hitch in his throat – because holy shit. They’re close now. Much closer than Porsche would ever allow it if he were sober.
But this isn’t bad, right? Porsche came here because he was bored. It’s Friday night. He has two friends; he’s young and reasonably good-looking and is still a boring virgin who never leaves the house. He needs to change something! That’s why he came here, right? Right.
So, Porsche places his hands on Vegas’ bicep carefully, digging his nails into Vegas’ muscles, and takes a deep breath. His head is swimming, and his tummy starts to feel funny, but this is okay. Right? He wants this.
He wants to be calm and adventurous and go out more. Be a little bit more like Kinn, maybe.
Vegas begins to roll his hips, and Porsche feels slightly overwhelmed by the sudden friction, not knowing what to do. Vegas pulls him even closer, hands traveling lower and lower.
And then, suddenly, Porsche gets yanked away with force, a big hand wrapping itself around Porsche’s arm and pulling him back.
Porsche’s alcohol-clouded brain doesn’t really function. So, it takes a second for him to register who just jumped between him and Vegas. He doesn’t believe his eyes when he realizes who it is.
“Kinn,” Porsche breathes in disbelief, eyes blinking rapidly.
Kinn has stepped in front of Porsche, hovering over him almost protectively and shielding him from Vegas. Porsche needs a second to understand that they’re shouting. “… just a kid, how fucking dare you?!”
“Oh, come on, he’s barely a kid anymore, in case you haven’t noticed,” Vegas snaps. “He’s here, drunk and pliant. What do you care? Go fuck off and let us have our fun.”
“You’re taking advantage of him,” Kinn hisses and steps forward, hand grabbing Vegas’ throat. “Stay away from him. Got it?”
“Why don’t you let him decide?”
“He’s out of his mind; that’s how drunk he is,” Kinn snaps. “Fuck off and stay away.”
Kinn turns around, grabbing Porsche’s arm and pulling him out of the club right behind him.
“Hey,” Porsche objects, but Kinn ignores him. Drags him outside and to a black vehicle parked on the other side of the road. Three men dressed in black are already moving toward them. Kinn’s bodyguards, Porsche notices with a frown. That’s it. He won’t let Kinn kidnap him! Porsche wiggles himself free. “Hey!”
Kinn sighs and eventually does turn around, staring down at Porsche.
“You just ruined my fun night out!” Porsche pouts and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“You can have fun with anyone, trust me. I don’t give a fuck. But not with Vegas! He’s dangerous, Porsche.”
Porsche blinks in confusion. It's chilly outside and he runs his hands over his bare arms. “Huh? Why do you care? You hate me.”
“I hate him more. He’s a criminal, Porsche. The worst kind. You should stay as far away from him as possible.”
Porsche frowns in confusion. If he were sober, he’d probably punch Kinn right now. But the alcohol slows him down. His tongue feels dry in his mouth and he swallows a couple of times, trying to collect his thoughts.
“Why were you here, then? If he’s so bad.”
“I’m spying on him. Trying to get any kind of information to use against him. Have been for a couple of months now,” Kinn explains calmly, and Porsche believes him. Maybe it’s the alcohol.
Usually, Porsche would be a lot more scratchy, but he’s drunk, hungry, and tired. He doesn’t have the energy to be angry. So, he simply sighs. “Okay, I guess.”
Porsche turns around, wanting to walk the way home. It’s not too far. He could use the way home to get sober again. But a hand on his shoulder stops him. “Where the hell are you going?”
Porsche groans. “Home. Duh.”
“You – what? You don’t seriously want to walk home at night? Are you insane?”
Porsche shrugs. “I do it all the time.”
“You – what?! Does your family not teach you anything? You could get attacked and kidnapped at any second. How are you even outside without any bodyguards?”
Porsche shrugs. “I’m not that important,” he tells him truthfully.
Kinn steps forward, pressing his thumbs into Porsche’s shoulders and staring down at him. “Porsche, I’m knees deep into this business and have my eyes and nose everywhere. Trust me when I say you are very important. You cannot walk around at night. Or ever. Do you understand me?”
Porsche’s frown only deepens. “Why do you care? You hate me!”
Kinn’s face softens for a moment, and he tilts his head. “I’ve seen a lot in the past couple of months. Trust me when I say my hate has shifted to more important matters.”
Porsche’s breath hitches in his throat when he sees Kinn’s incredibly delicate features. Has he ever seen Kinn look like this before? So soft, and honest? Vulnerable and caring? Wow, he truly is a beautiful, beautiful man.
“And besides,” Kinn continues, licking his lips hesitantly. His eyes flicker back and forth, unsure whether to say what he says next. “A certain someone told me not too long ago they don’t fit into the Kittisawasd line. Maybe I’ve come to realize that that’s true.”
He – what? Who told him that? Porsche’s head is spinning with alcohol, and he rubs his forehead with his index finger. God, he’s forming an actual headache now, and the confusion only grows. “Huh? Jesus, I’m too drunk for this. I just wanna go home.”
“Call someone, then,” Kinn argues. “Let me call someone for you.”
Porsche lets him. He gives him his phone and allows Kinn to call his brother, who then sends someone to get him.
Kinn waits with Porsche in silence until the familiar black vehicle pulls up.
When Porsche slides into the backseat of the car, Kinn holds open the door one last time, staring Porsche deeply into the eyes. “Remember what I said. Stay away from Vegas and be careful.”
Porsche rolls his eyes and slams the door shut.