Chapter Text
For someone who often stays up until the early hours of the morning, Tankhun rarely sleeps in beyond 10am.
As the heat of the day rises, he rises too. Maybe his body is used to running on less than six hours sleep or maybe he just likes the smell of croissants before noon, but he’s almost always in the breakfast room by 10.30am.
Today is no different and he glides in just after 10am, Arm following immediately behind him and a yawning Pol trailing after the other bodyguard.
What is different this morning is that Porchay is here. He’s seated at a window table on the far side of the room, the sun haloing his jet black hair and lighting up the last remnants of faded blue dye.
Chay normally eats earlier with Kinn and Porsche (and Khun when he's awake), but today he's alone.
As Khun gets closer, he can see the younger man pushing cereal around his bowl with lackluster movements, his mind clearly elsewhere.
Tankhun doesn’t know exactly what happened between Chay and Kim before he told Chay that Kim was his youngest brother, but he knows something occurred.
It’s written into the lines of Chay’s body and etched in his expressions when he thinks no-one’s looking. He could be an artist's muse, depicting sorrow.
Although he hides it well, he’s mournful. There’s an aura of despondency that cloaks him when he’s alone and the only person that seems to be able to bring him out of it is Porsche.
But Porsche has been out of the mansion more often than not over the last two weeks, attending business meetings with Kinn.
With Porsche’s absence, Chay’s sunny smiles and warm energy have diminished, his friendly disposition becoming more muted, like a watercolour fading over time.
Tankhun knows people consider him flighty and over-emotional (and he lets them because he’s never really cared for other people’s opinions of him), but they always underestimate his observation skills.
When it comes to noticing details in the world around him, he's razor sharp. Second only to Kim, really.
So, he can pinpoint exactly when the change in Porchay occurred, and it was the day he told Chay that Kim was part of the Theerapanyakul family.
Chay’s face fell quicker than the first drops of rain in a summer storm. Sudden and change-heralding. His expression was one of dawning realisation, which meant he and Kim must have already met.
Something must have happened between them previously, Tankhun is sure of it. Judging by the change in Chay’s demeanor, they were more than just acquaintances.
But Khun can’t get Chay to tell him anything more substantial, and Kim has been absent from the mansion for weeks, so there’s no use in plying him for information.
Even if Kim was around more, he’s worse than Kinn for guarding his secrets, so Tankhun doubts his youngest brother would tell him anything.
But what’s clear from Chay’s melancholy is that Kim hurt him in some way. And for that Khun wants to throw one of his Gucci shoes at his brother. Both shoes, actually. Preferably the ones with the biggest heels.
Tankhun pauses as he nears Chay’s table and gets a closer look at the boy’s expression.
Oh. It’s worse than he thought. Chay looks like someone just dropped his favourite guitar onto a bonfire. Kim, probably.
Tankhun takes approximately half a second to consider whether the younger Kittisawasd brother might want to be alone before casting that idea aside completely and sauntering over.
Of course Chay wants his company. Who doesn’t?
They’re all lucky to have him and, half the time, they don’t even realise it.
Khun reaches Chay’s table and flops down into the chair opposite him, the picture of elegant extravagance.
“We’re going out today,” he says abruptly, addressing Chay while waving for Arm and Pol to join him.
“P’Tankhun?” Chay says, eyes wide, startled out of his thoughts. He looks confused as the two bodyguards arrive at the table, so Tankhun elaborates.
“I’m bored and I need a new jacket,” he pouts. “We’re going shopping and you’re coming.”
“I um…” Chay looks like he wants to politely decline, but has no idea how to in the face of Tankhun’s assertiveness.
“Do you have university work to do?”
It’s a trick question because Khun already knows the answer.
“No, I’ve finished my assignments for this week.”
“Good, then there’s nothing stopping you from coming,” he responds, giving the boy a knowing smile.
Chay shakes his head, realising he's played right into Tankhun's hands, but he’s smiling.
“I’ll buy you some new t-shirts,” Tankhun adds, trying to sweeten the deal, “you’ve been wearing that one for three days.”
Porchay looks down at what he’s wearing and flushes slightly, left hand rising to smooth down the navy material.
Tankhun just knows that this is related to Kim, somehow. He doesn’t know how, but he’s certain it is.
When Kim next sets foot in the manor, Khun is going to find a creative way of punishing his brother for hurting this sweet boy. Perhaps he’ll lock Kim in his room and make him watch all six seasons of Gossip Girl.
“That’s very kind, P’Tankhun, but I have plenty of clothes,” Chay says sheepishly. “Porsche just bought me some new t-shirts last month.”
Khun rolls his eyes but there’s no malice in the gesture. “Fine, then let me buy you a new guitar.”
Chay perks up at this.
“R-really? You don’t have to…I already have a guitar.”
“Well maybe I want to. We'll get you the latest model and then you can throw your current one away.” Tankun waves his arm dismissively.
“Ah, actually, I'd rather keep it.” Chay looks shy again and Tankhun huffs, but doesn't pry any further.
He simply says, “Well, you can have two then. Play both.”
Porchay looks torn. Khun can tell that he thinks he should decline because it’s the polite thing to do. He can imagine Porsche raising his younger brother not to accept charity or end up indebted to others.
But the newfound glow in Chay’s eyes gives him away. The idea of a new instrument is always enticing to a musician. Khun knows that from Kim.
“Come on. You don't have to pick one today, you can just browse and play them. If you don't come with me it'll be so dull. I might have to pass out just for something to do. Last time, Pol caught me but I still scuffed my favourite bag,” Tankhun moans.
“Sorry, sir,” Pol says, looking contrite.
“I don’t recommend taking that course of action again, sir,” Arm adds mildly, “the retail staff were quite fearful for your safety last time.”
Tankhun snorts and wheels around to his bodyguards, looking irate. “It’s not my fault their store was so boring and they hadn’t fixed their air conditioning.”
“Anyway,” he turns back to Chay, “don't let me be bored, Porchay. Come with me.” He almost whines the last part, pouting at the younger man.
Chay is trying not to laugh now and Khun is relieved to see him looking happier. He's glad to be the cause of it.
“I guess I could come,” Chay says, ducking his head as he nods. It’s a Saturday and he has no university classes.
“Excellent.” Tankhun claps his hands emphatically.
“Pol, bring me a croissant with apricot jam and coffee. And bring Chay one, too. We'll leave in an hour.”
If Porchay perceives Tankhun's true motivations for getting him out of the manor, he doesn't let on.
He simply eats his croissant when it arrives and asks Tankhun about his latest K-drama.
Khun tells him the details with as much flamboyance and as many theatrical gestures as he can fit into the narrative.
He even has Arm and Pol act out the love confession scene, smirking when Pol flushes slightly in Arm’s embrace.
By the end of the dramatics, Porchay is laughing silently and Tankhun feels like the world is back in balance.
He may not be a strategist like Kinn or analytical like Kim, but he excels at entertaining people. He’s always enjoyed stagecraft; it was why he wanted to go into theatre before the incident.
He shudders, realising what his mind has inadvertently brought up.
To stop his thoughts from spiralling and to shut down the opening notes of an anxiety attack, he distracts himself.
“Pol! Show Porchay the kayaking scene.”
Tankhun’s mind calms as his bodyguard poorly mimics steering a boat into a bridge.
He doesn’t let himself dwell too deeply on that time, because whenever he does, he can feel himself being pulled into a rushing black chasm of dark thoughts and memories. There’s nothing good in there, just anxiety and pain and if he tries to breathe, he’ll drown.
Better to avoid it at all costs.
Once the dramatics are over, he tells Chay to meet him in the foyer in fifteen minutes and heads back to his room.
Time to pick an outfit.