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If there was a way for these damn family dinners to end forever - that didn't involve the timely death of the Theerapanyakul patriarch - Porchay hadn't been able to figure it out in the six months he'd been trapped living in the compound and required to attend them. The compulsory weekly dinners with the entire Theerapanyakul family was, somehow, the worst part about living here.
He was already muttering prayers to whomever was watching over the bullshit that happened in the compound as he approached the family and business only dining room. Korn had set these damn dinners up as a bonding activity for his sons and his, now fatherless, nephews. Why Porchay had to come to the stupid things he hadn't been able to figure out.
'Because Korn said so' was such a stupid as fuck reason, but his brother had looked a little desperate when he passed on that news, so Porchay hadn't complained too much. Then. He'd certainly done his share of complaining about it since the first one.
He knew it was too much to wish for tonight to be normal, but he did anyway.
It would be nice if, for once, Kinn and Vegas didn't try to kill each other with their eyes, knives, or guns. Porchay could do without witnessing another Tankhun and Vegas fight over Pete. He always spent the argument looking between the two of them far too amused and pleased about it. When he grew bored of it, or the fight died out, Pete would just pull Vegas back down into his chair, pressed side to side with him, and carry on his conversation with whomever else he'd been talking to.
Porchay was well aware that Korn hadn't wanted to invite Pete. He'd insisted it was family only. That was the only time Porchay had seen Vegas and Tankhun agree on something. Either Pete came or they didn't.
They were ridiculous. Every single one of them.
Please let no one call their dick a gun again, what the fuck, Kinn? Porchay didn't need to hear that ever. He also didn't need to see the grin on Porsche's face as the two of them stared at each other. Uuugh, gross.
Please let Korn choke on a breadstick and no one give him CPR.
He wasn't asking for a lot. It was the bare minimum he needed to have a decent night.
He pushed the dining room door open and stopped dead.
Kim was there.
He should have been prepared for that. Kim had come to most of these mandatory family dinners that his presence shouldn't be a surprise. But Wik had been at events all week, including today, so Porchay had assumed he'd be too busy to come to this one. He'd been counting on it.
He hadn't prepared himself to see Kim.
But, okay, fine. Whatever. He could deal with that. He'd just have to speed run psyching himself up to be normal and not act like a love sick idiot with a broken heart. He could do this. He could be normal. He could have a normal conversation with Kim. He'd been normal around Kim. He just needed a bit longer than .05 seconds to adjust.
He focused again, wrenching his eyes open in the process. He hadn't realized he'd closed them as he was psyching himself up.
He could do this. He was capable. He was a strong, independent - he slammed directly into Porsche's back with a solid thunk.
"What the - Chay?" Porsche asked, as he shifted and looked behind him. His voice pitched up in concern and Porchay wanted to disappear. "You okay, Chay?"
No. No, he wasn't okay at all.
He needed to retreat.
He needed to run.
He needed to lock himself in his room until he could function like a normal person. Which would probably be never.
Because Kim - Kimhan Theeraphankyul, Wik himself, the master of running away, of avoidance techniques that he could give lessons on, the destroyer of hearts, and the professional ruiner of Porchay's entire existence - was sitting at the table with blond hair.
Blond.
What the fuck?
What the fuck?
Okay, he was fine, he could deal with this.
Actually, no, one more time, just for good measure. What the fuck?
Porchay had seen the clips from yesterday's event - he tried not to, but sometimes it was hard to avoid them, especially when so many of his friends were fans of Wik's. He hadn't been blond yesterday. Porchay was absolutely sure of that. Why was he blond today?
Blond.
BLOND.
Why the fuck was he blond? And why didn't Porchay know about this? How had someone not told him? How had any number of his group chats not exploded over this information? He had them muted, sure, but he still checked in with his friends. What the fuck.
He was drawing too much attention now thanks to Porsche's careful concern. He needed to do something, anything, to break up the silence. He needed to do something, anything, but his eyes were still locked on Kim, sitting in his chair, the open curtains behind him casting him in a sunlit glow that nearly gave him a halo. He looked like someone had taken a Greek statue, warmed it up, and decided to drop it right in the middle of the damn dining room and expected Porchay to be normal about this.
What the fuck.
"Chay? Porchay," Porsche was saying, "Come on, sit down, are you okay?" He led Porchay to his usual spot at the table beside Porsche himself.
Porchay was, admittedly, not entirely aware of how he got there. His feet moved in front of him, he could feel Porsche's hand on him leading him there, but when he sat down he was still confused.
His heart was racing loud enough he was sure everyone could hear it, and he couldn't for the life of him look away from Kim's face. From his sparkling eyes, the amused delight in them so clear Porchay wanted to hide under the table to avoid it. He looked so damn smug, like he'd planned this. Like he'd done it specifically to ruin Porchay's life in this brand new way.
He wouldn't be surprised. Kim was rather vicious when he wanted to be. There were still cracks in Porchay's heart from the last time Kim had decided to destroy it.
He looked so smug. The asshole.
Porchay wanted to get on his knees, get Kim's pants undone and -
"Everything alright, Porchay?" Kinn? Why was Kinn here?
Right, they weren't alone.
"No," Porchay squeaked out, and then coughed to clear his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine. Totally fine. Completely. Never better." He sat up straighter and blinked down at the empty place setting in front of him. "Just wasn't prepared."
He heard Kim snicker across from him, and when he dared to look back up, Kim was staring directly back at him, unblinking.
They didn't do this, not anymore.
Not after their first official meeting, where they had both clearly pretended not to know the other person. Where Porchay had held out his hand and acted surprised that Wik was in front of him.
There were whispers, Porchay was sure of that. There had been more than one bodyguard that witnessed their break up over 6 months ago. But Tankhun was the only one who listened to the guards gossip, and he seemed to accept that their history wasn't going to be public knowledge.
Though, he was looking at them both right now with wicked delight.
"Not prepared for what?" Kim asked, curious, delighted, devious. He winked and Porchay felt his soul physically leave his body.
How the hell was he supposed to deal with this?
He should be allowed to time travel to the past and erase the entire last five minutes of pure embarrassment just as a reward for having to live through it the first time around.
Korn cleared his throat in an effort to draw everyone's attention back to him, back to the task at hand of family bonding. Porchay didn't look away from the grin on Kim's perfect lips. He still dreamed about how they tasted, how getting to kiss the smile right off Kim's face left him dizzy.
"Shall we begin?" Korn asked, and his tone left no room for argument.
Regardless, Porchay wanted to say no. He wanted to say 'your son is a menace, he came here specifically to ruin my life, and I'm just a young gay. How am I supposed to deal with him looking like every fantasy I've ever had? How am I supposed to just sit here and be normal about it when I'm inevitably going to embarrass myself in front of everyone and the mafia? I should probably go find a ditch somewhere to bury myself in because that would be less embarrassing and save you the effort of having someone kill me when I climb into his lap and kiss him even though he broke my heart and lied to me.'
It was a lot. Instead, Porchay stayed quiet. He looked down at his plate when it was served and picked at it silently. He couldn't bring himself to actually eat anything even though the food in the compound was always delicious. He didn't actually know what was being served right now. How was he supposed to focus on the food, on any kind of conversation?
Every time he looked up, trying to refocus, Kim was right there in front of him. He'd be pushing his blond - BLOND - bangs out of his way, or leaning back in his chair, shoulders stretching the fabric of his almost too small shirt, licking sauce of his lips, or, damn him, smirking like he knew every filthy thought in Porchay's head.
And, really, Kim liked to stalk his fans on social media, so he probably had some idea.
Porsche kicked at Porchay lightly, drawing his attention away from the devastation that was Kim.
"Seriously, Chay, are you already?" He asked his quietly, eyes drifting from the untouched plate to Porchay. "I didn't think you smacked into me that hard, but if you need to get checked out, we can call one of the doctors?"
Oh, hell, that was almost more embarrassing than walking into his brother in the first place.
"I'm fine," Porchay said quietly. "I don't need a doctor," he added as he watched the uncertainty cross his brother's face.
Well, unless Kim wanted to put on a lab coat and stethoscope . There was an idea Porchay could get behind. Or in front of. He wasn't picky.
He glanced back over to Kim, eyes drawn there by a force he couldn't control. Kim was mid conversation with Vegas, who looked disgusted at being there, but when his eyes darted back to Porchay, the grin still on his lips.
How was it fair that his deliciously attractive ex knew that Porchay was still so ridiculously into him? It wasn't fair at all. It had to be illegal.
Maybe finding a ditch somewhere to die in was actually a good idea?
"Are you sure?" Porsche asked. Porchay had to search his brain to reconnect the dots of their conversation away from playing doctor with Kim.
"Yup," Porchay said. His voice was strangled, a little higher than normal, and desperate for Porsche to stop asking.
"You know," Vegas said, smarmy as always, and Porchay hoped he wasn't talking to him. "Your food is on the table in front of you. You don't actually need to try eating Kim with your eyes."
Fuck.
"Let's be real," Macau piped in. Porchay had a deep deep regret for ever befriending him. "He'd rather eat Kim with his mouth."
"Just not at the table," Vegas continued without pause. "We already have two exhibitionists in the family."
"You mean four," Pete said, unrepentant and grinning at Vegas who nodded in acceptance.
"Oh my god, just let me die," Porchay said.
"You could tell them they're wrong," Kim said. His smile was still wicked and delighted as he watched Porchay. The look burned hot under his skin, and fuck, Porchay wished he could do something about that.
"Fuck you," he said instead, but there was no venom in it. Just desperation for the entire situation to be over with. He watched Kim's face turn more mischievous, and willed him to not say anything incrimination. "Could you stop looking so smug? This is entirely your fault!"
"How is it my fault that you walked into Porsche?"
"Have you seen your face?" Porchay snapped. "Have you ever once looked in a mirror? I know you live on Twitter like the stalker you are. And then you went and did that?" He waved dramatically at Kim's hair. "It's all your fault. All of this. Existing like that? With your voice? And your face? And your arms? And then you just show up like that and be -"
"Blond?" Kim asked. The delight was so clear in his voice that Porchay wanted to bury in it and hide from everyone else. Damn, he loved having Kim's attention, his focus, his amusement, directed on himself.
"Yes," Porchay said firmly, meeting his eyes again. "You could have at least warned a guy."
The slow smile on Kim's face wasn't sweet, not like the ones he'd gotten on their tutoring dates when Kim was proud of him for accomplishing something Porchay had been struggling with. It was something else entirely that left Porchay hot.
"I'll make note of that for next time. We were going to go silver. Will you need warning for that, too? I also wanted to try purple for a while. It's light enough right now that I can do things like that, you know?"
"Oh my god, where's your stylist? I need to know who is paying them off to torture me," he said it quick and sharp. Kim laughed, a genuine sound that startled his brothers and cousins, but one that Porchay was familiar with and basked in every time it happened.
He really needed to stop thinking about launching himself across the table to kiss Kim senseless, or punch him, or drag him to the nearest bedroom.
Maybe all three, in that order, actually. It would probably be cathartic, in a way.
He needed to leave.
Kinn, who had been talking to Korn and Porsche, blinked over at him as Porchay pushed away from the table.
"Are you-"
"Leaving? Yes, I'm leaving. Yes, I'm fine. I need air, or a priest."
"Or a bedroom," Macau laughed again. Porchay really needed to stop being friends with assholes who matched his sense of humor.
"I will kill you," Porchay said firmly, fiercely. He'd shout shut the fuck up if he didn't think that would absolutely grab Porsche's attention in a way he couldn't escape from.
"Hot, what are you doing later, maybe we can explore this violence kink of yours? Ow, fucking hell, Kim, okay, shit. I was joking, oh my god."
"I'm gone," Porchay said and spun on his heal to flee the room.
The sun was setting as Porchay made his way intop the yard around the compound. Between the open yard and the garden lights there was no where for him hide, but at least he wasn't inside anymore. Nonetheless, he stopped at one of the stone statues by the koi pond and let himself catch his breath. He needed to calm down. He needed to cool down.
Oh fuck, Kim was blond and had just effectively destroyed any process Porchay had made on not finding him the most attractive person to ever exist.
Damn, he was hot.
The small pond sprinklers - meant solely to move water around instead of anything else - splashed him occasionally. He thought about throwing himself directly into the pond but didn't think even that would help get his brain back online.
There was nothing that would help.
The image of Kim, blond, smirking, delicious, was permanently burned into his retinas.
That man was so fucking gorgeous Porchay couldn't stand it most days. Being away from him was the only thing that kept him sane.
And Kim had been staring at Porchay the entire time they were in the dining room. It hadn't been remotely subtle. It didn't help the heat burning under his skin. He'd caught Kim staring at his lips more than once. It had to be intentional. It must be. Kim was never obvious unless he wanted to be.
Every time Porchay had shifted he felt Kim's gaze move over him.
He really should throw himself in the pond.
He heard the footsteps behind him far later than he probably should have considering how close they were. He knew, without having to look, that it was Kim out here to torture him some more.
"Running away?" Kim asked. His voice was light, melodic. Porchay could hear the teasing amusement clear as day. As he turned around to face Kim he wasn't surprised by the gleeful grin on his face either.
"Obviously, since I'm the only one with self preservation here!" He scowled over at Kim and then had to spin around again when he spent too long staring at him. Kim was criminally attractive.
"So, you like the blond hair, huh?" Kim asked as he stepped up beside Porchay. Porchay said nothing, and Kim just laughed lightly. "It's alright, Chay, you can admit it." He shivered at the softness of his nickname.
"I hate you," Porchay said instead of getting on his knees. But even he heard the lack of heat in his voice. He cursed briefly, and turned on his heel to face Kim. He didn't let himself think, and just reached out to wrap his hand in Kim's blond - BLOND - hair and yanked him forward into a kiss.
It was immediately hot, desperate, needy, as they clung to each other. He didn't want to let go and left his hand tangled in Kim's hair as their lips fused together. He never wanted to let go. He'd burrow himself into Kim if he could.
"You are such an asshole," Porchay said as he nipped at Kim's lower lip, and dragged it between his teeth before releasing it.
It was strange to be taller than Kim. The last time they'd been in anywhere near a similar position, he'd been looking up at Kim. Looking up at his idol. He'd noticed he was taller than Kim now, but until this moment, he hadn't realized what that could mean. Having Kim looking up at him, having Kim stretching on his toes to kiss Porchay again.
"You like the blond hair, huh?" Kim asked between shorter kisses that had just as much heat as earlier. "You couldn't stop looking."
Kim deepened the kiss again and let his hands slip under Porchay's shirt. Porchay gasped into the kiss with a shiver as Kim's hands scratched up his back.
"Fuck Kim," Porchay groaned out and felt Kim laugh against him.
"Not out here," Kim said. He pulled back slightly, looked at the open space around them. Porchay followed his gaze up to the family dining room where Macau was standing. Porchay could only imagine the smug grin he would be wearing.
Kim then tugged on Porchay's belt loops of and pulled him behind one of the statues.
He wasn't even sure which one. It didn't matter when Kim backed himself up against it and pulled Porchay closer to him until they were kissing again.
"Dining room can't see us from here," Kim offered as he nibbled on Porchay's neck and then slipped his tongue back into Porchay's mouth.
He felt a little like he'd forgotten how to breath. All he knew was Kim's mouth - warm, demanding, and impossibly soft at the same time.
"You're unbelievable," Porchay said with another quick kiss.
"Me?" Kim asked full of laughter and false innocence.
"Absolutely. What were you thinking showing up like this?" He racked his fingers through Kim's hair again, and tugged his head up into another willing kiss. He cradled Kim's head, hand engulfed along his chin, and drew out the next kiss.
It had only been a couple of months, but Porchay felt like he was drowning with how desperate he was to get to Kim. To kiss Kim. To touch him.
"I was definitely hoping for a reaction," Kim said. His hand moved up Porchay's chest before he pinched one of his nipples with a grin. He kissed Porchay again, all heat and tongue and desperation like he'd been just as starved.
"Hope I delivered," Porchay said with a laugh.
"If I asked you back to my apartment, would you come?" Kim asked.
"We should talk about this," Porchay said quietly. He wanted to say yes. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself into Kim's car and continue this at his apartment - away from all their various snoopy family members.
"If I promise we will before I get you naked, will you come with me?" Kim caught his eyes and held them.
"I'm insane about you," Porchay said instead and kissed Kim again. He didn't want to talk. He knew they needed to, but he'd rather spend that time kissing Kim. He wanted to play with Kim's hair - which was somehow still soft, what kind of rich boy product did he use on it? It didn't matter. It was there for him to touch, to pet, and comb his fingers through it.
"That's exactly what I wanted to hear," Kim said before pressing another kiss to Porchay's mouth. "I'm obsessed with you," he added almost as an after thought. Energy burned through Porchay again at the confession.
"Good talk. How quickly can we get to your place?"
Kim laughed and pulled Porchay towards his car