Chapter Text
The Theerapanyakul main family compound ought to never be confused with a home, Porchay decided the moment he stepped inside the first time. It was all rich, old-world elegance with shimmering mahogany paneling and butter-soft leather furniture, stunning Bangkok views from huge windows and every amenity one could ever want. Security cameras were fitted into every corner. Bodyguards took positions at the gates, doors, and paced the cavernous halls, weapons weighing heavy beneath their cleanly pressed suits.
It ought to have been the safest place in the world.
And Porchay Kittisawat had never felt more vulnerable, more endangered, in his life.
Chay had been stunned to learn his big brother – passionate, free-spirited Porsche – had lived in this dreadful place for months. Not only had Porsche lived there, but he’d thrived. (Of course, that might have something to do with his hot, new, mafia boyfriend.) And Porsche had accepted the mantle of Minor Family Head with reluctant pride, though he had little understanding of how to do the job. So Chay’s brother had been busy. Too busy to spend more than a few stolen minutes with his dear little brother.
Earlier on in his stay, Chay’s bodyguard—because he had one of those now—had noticed Chay’s loneliness and made a few quiet inquiries.
Within the day, the door of Chay’s apartment – because he had one of those now, too – burst open.
“Baby Porsche!” declared a tall man with star-shaped sunglasses and a tracksuit patterned like a vibrant kaleidoscope.
“Hi?” He stumbled up from his spot on the couch.
“Oh, I forgot how adorable you are!” The man scrunched his finger at Chay. “Porsche has terrible manners, you know. I still can’t believe he didn’t introduce me to you officially. And you haven't come to visit me all this time! So I came myself!” He struck a pose.
Baffled, Chay wai’d slowly. “I'm sorry, Khun Tankhun?"
“Hm!” Tankhun huffed and strolled around the room, prodding at Chay’s bookshelf of manga. “Ooh, I’ve read this one! Should’ve stopped after the fifth volume if you ask me.” He glanced at the guitar in the corner, the notebooks and music sheets haphazardly strewn across the floor around it. “Musician, huh?” Tankhun snatched the guitar and propped it on his leg.
Chay flinched but didn’t dare protest. Then Tankhun played a few chords with surprisingly gentle hands. His face shifted into something unreadable. As soon as Chay could register the change, it was gone, and Tankhun deposited the guitar back in its place.
With a dramatic spin and flourish, Tankhun spun around and pointed at Chay. “Come! I must introduce you to Montreal and Angeles!”
“Who..?”
“My koi fish! Your terrible brother murdered their predecessors, you know—”
Just like that, Chay fell into the magnetic orbit of another Theerapanyakul brother. This one was thankfully the hilariously chaotic best friend he’d never known he needed. Tankhun insisted Chay attend all his movie marathons, drama binges, game nights, and costume parties. Chay stuffed himself with snacks while wrapped in fuzzy blankets and silk pajamas. His hair was dyed four different colors in as many weeks, and he decided he liked how he looked with a bit of smudged kohl at the corners of his eyes.
In between drama binges and makeovers, Tankhun shared pieces of himself with Chay in a jovial, flamboyant tone that utterly belied the gutting truth in his words.
“Some things change you forever.”
“It’s normal to hurt. And to protect yourself from getting hurt again.”
“Sometimes…safety is lonely.”
“The walls have eyes and ears here. You’re never truly alone. Even if you want to be.”
“Everyone gets nightmares. I prefer the sleeping kind, though.”
Sometimes Chay whispered back.
“I don’t know what I want anymore.”
“I miss my brother.”
“Will I ever feel safe again?”
“I’m just a liability. That’s why I’m here at all.”
“I’m really pathetic, aren’t I?”
One day, Chay turned up to Tankhun’s rooms ready for another movie marathon and was met with Tankhun’s maniacal grin and a handful of rope, handcuffs, zip ties, and duct tape.
Chay freaked out.
He came out of it later, holding a neon pink, feathered boa in his hands as Tankhun quietly sang a lullaby Chay recognized from somewhere. Drying tear tracks streaked his cheeks, his jaw ached from clenching his teeth, and his t-shirt felt damp with sweat. He was huddled on the floor just inside Tankhun’s room, the older man leaning against the wall beside him, one leg propped up, and not touching him. The room was empty of guards.
“What song is that?” he whispered.
“Mm. My mother sang it to me as a kid,” Tankhun replied quietly, fiddling with one end of the boa.
“That was a panic attack, wasn’t it.”
He nodded.
“I’ve never had one before.”
“I can teach you a few things.”
“Tha-that’d be cool. Thanks.”
Tankhun swallowed and looked away. “I wanted to teach you how to escape various bindings.”
“Oh. Yeah. Probably a good idea.”
“I should’ve warned you.”
Chay dropped his head onto Tankhun’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted. “It’s fine. Now we know for next time.”
After that, Tankhun—with the help of Arm and Pol—quickly trained Chay how to escape common bindings and gave him their best what-to-do-when-I’ve-been-kidnapped tips and tricks. Then Tankhun custom-ordered an entirely new wardrobe for Chay equipped with dozens of hidden pockets and slots for knives, lockpicks, wire saws, and trackers only Arm could access.
Chay might have reorganized the clothes later to put the more outrageous pieces towards the back of his closet. He didn’t think he had the right charisma to pull off a suit colored like peacock feathers. Or the lime green trench coat shaped like a balloon hand. He did bring several pairs of ripped, worn jeans, a half-black half-plaid button up jacket, several oversized T-shirts, and an absurdly soft, gray sweater to the front of the closet, though.
He deliberately did not look at the brand names on any of them. The prices would probably make him faint. Better not to know.
He couldn’t deny that he suddenly felt just a little safer now, a little more capable. Less afraid.
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“I heard you met Tankhun,” Porsche said with a grin before spooning a mound of rice into his mouth.
Chay picked at the vegetables on his plate and nodded. “We just finished Kill Me Heal Me yesterday.”
“He’s treating you okay?”
“Of course! We’re friends!” Chay pouted at him.
It was the first time they’d had lunch together in weeks. Porsche was just so busy all the time. The stress visibly tightened the corners of Porsche’s mouth and eyes, and to Chay, he looked like he might crawl out of his skin every time he stopped working for even a moment. He worried about him. And Chay couldn’t help the tinge of grief swelling in his throat when he realized he’d grown used to not seeing his brother. That this might be their new normal. No more hurried morning breakfasts in their pajamas or making faces at the characters on the TV.
“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Porsche lifted his hands in amused surrender. “Tankhun’s a bit crazy, but I do trust him with you. I’d have stopped it if I didn’t.”
Chay nodded firmly. “Good. I like him. And I think he’s the least crazy Theerapanyakul I’ve met so far.”
“Hey! Kinn’s not crazy!” Porsche pointed his spoon at him.
“He’s dating you, isn’t he?” Chay stuck out his tongue.
“Rude.” Porsche ate another bite of food and then said through his mouthful, “The other brother might be crazy, though, I don’t know. I never see him around. I mean. He did save you, so he can’t be too bad. But still.”
“What?” Chay froze, mouth open. Was he talking about that time at the club? God, if his hia knew about that…
“Oh, I guess you were unconscious for most of it,” Porsche said with a grimace. “When you were kidnapped and I got caught after you, Khun Kim and Big came in guns blazing. Khun Kim went straight to you and got you out. We never told you about that, did we?”
In different circumstances, Chay would have happily teased his brother about speaking in the all-powerful we. Now he was struck by the baffling notion that was Kim coming to save him. Saved him and then broke his heart two days later, saying Chay meant nothing to him.
I’m sorry.
What did that mean? What did that mean when he’d just risked his life to save him? Maybe he felt guilty for tricking him. Like he was paying off a debt.
“He was the one who fought off all those guys at Yok’s, too. It’d be cool to spar him. Kid has some mad skills,” Porsche continued, unaware of the new tailspin he’d just thrown Chay into.
Yok’s, too?! That was after the club when Chay raged at him for interfering in his bad decisions. So Kim saved him again? He protected him and didn’t say a word?
Why don’t you stay?
And that fucking song.
He’d forgotten to turn off the YouTube notifications for Wik’s page. When his latest video popped up, his determination to avoid Kim and all things related to him crumbled like wet tissue paper.
To Porchay.
Fuck.
Porsche happily changed the subject and chatted away while Chay faked his best smile and tried to keep it together. Towards the end, a bodyguard came to collect Porsche for an unexpected meeting. Chay waved away Porsche’s apologies with a sweet smile.
Then he beelined for Tankhun’s room.
Chay knocked frantically. Arm swung open the door with a fierce frown. Behind him, Tankhun was ducked behind the couch.
“Oh, it’s Baby Chay!” Tankhun hopped up from his hiding place. “Where’s the fire?”
Chay stood in the center of the room, fists shaking at his sides. “Did you guys know Kim was the one who saved me? When I was kidnapped and at Yok’s?”
Tankhun’s eyes glinted with awareness.
“We did,” Arm said, taking position behind the couch.
“Why—why would he do that?” Chay felt his throat go tight. “He doesn’t—! Why…”
“Interesting question, I think,” Tankhun hummed. “Why would my angsty little brother go on a mission for the first time in years to save his brother’s boyfriend’s brother? Quite strange, don’t you think, Arm?”
“Mm. Very strange, sir.”
Chay glanced between them. “What do you mean by the first mission in years? What does that…”
Tankhun sprawled across the couch, crossing his legs and bouncing his foot. “Baby Chay, Kimmy left the family when he was sixteen. He hasn’t done any mafia work since. But he went on a rampage three times in a month! And all for you. Curious, right?”
Chay’s brow furrowed in confusion and stress. He ran a hand through his hair, fingers tugging harshly, needing the burn to focus. It didn’t make any sense. It didn’t make any fucking sense! Why would Kim save him if he didn’t care about him? He wouldn’t, right? One time could be reasoned as guilt. But three times?
But if he cared, why did he turn away from Chay that day?
I’m sorry.
And the song.
Why don’t you stay?
“Wait, how did you know it was three times?!” Chay whipped his head to Tankhun, who immediately broke into cackles.
“What? You think we weren’t keeping an eye on you to make sure you were safe?”
Chay gaped. “Wait, Porsche—?”
“Doesn’t know,” Arm interjected. “I monitored you only to make sure you were safe. I don’t tell anyone anything unless you’re in danger.” He hesitated and then added, “I’m glad Khun Kim got to you in time.”
He blushed in shame and turned away. “I don’t get it. Why would he save me? He doesn’t care about me.”
“Lost in your eyes, there was no place I could hide. Take me inside and let me live in your mind. No pain tonight, this place is reserved for only you and I,” Tankhun sang softly, swaying like he was at a concert. “I keep track of everything my baby brother does, you know. He cares. Trust me.”
Chay felt his chin tremble and whispered, “Then why did he reject me?”
“Oh, Baby Chay, come here.”
He opened his arms, and Chay let himself fall into the glittering purple robe. Before he could stop it, a sob bubbled up in his throat. God, hadn’t he cried enough over Kim? Tankhun held him tight, rocking side to side.
Finally, Chay sat back and rubbed his sleeves over his eyes. “I hate this. I hate that I’m still crying for him.”
“Eh, you love him. Of course, you’re gonna cry when he does something stupid that hurts you.”
“What makes you think I love him?”
Tankhun gave him an unimpressed look and didn’t dignify him with a response. Instead, he said, “Little Kim has his reasons for being an awkward, angry storm cloud. You should talk to Kinn, actually. About why Kim is the way he is.” Before Chay could take all that in, Tankhun leapt to his feet. “But not tonight! Tonight, we have to marathon Sword Art Online! Arm! Popcorn!”
“Yes, sir!”
Chay found himself parked on a mountain of cushions and tightly wrapped in blankets for the rest of the night.
Something was definitely wrong with a filthy rich person pirating anime, right? It’s not like Tankhun couldn’t afford it?
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