#kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

Day 6: “Why are you naked?” + fun

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

***

“So… Have you forgiven me, then?”

Chay looks down at Kim, his tousled hair, his red, swollen lips, his shining eyes filled with hope.

“P’Kim, I spent the past hour fucking you. I think the answer is pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, but…” Kim lifts his head from Chay’s shoulder to first kiss him, then gently bite his lower lip. “I wanna hear it. Chay…”

“Yes. I have forgiven you, P’Kim. Though I haven’t forgiven you for nearly getting yourself killed, even though I specifically told you not to!”

“Oh, come on, it was just a little hit over the head. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“You’re concussed.”

“Mildly concussed. And you didn’t mind it so much when you made me hit my head against the headboard.”

“I apologized for that!”

Kim chuckles, leans his head on Porchay’s chest again and wraps an arm and a leg around the young man.

“I’m joking, Chay. Just joking,” he murmurs. “I love you.”

Porchay buries his fingers in Kim’s long hair and hums.

“I’m hungry.”

“Mean,” Kim murmurs.

“You deserve it.”

“I do.”

Kim smiles when he feels a gentle kiss on the top of his head.

“I love you too, P’Kim,” Porchay says. “You should sleep now. You need your rest.”

*

Kim clutches the blanket a bit tighter, pulling it higher up on his chest. His eyes glance from an angry Porsche to the bathroom door and back again.

“And what am I supposed to do about the fact that your brother’s missing?” he asks, trying to ignore the fact that Vegas, who’s standing next to Porsche, seems to follow Kim’s gaze.

“You’re supposed to find him, of course!”

“I’ve been injured,” Kim protests, hoping against all hope Porsche will just accept it and go away.

“Oh, come on. Aren’t you madly in love with him or something?” Porsche groans. “No one’s seen him since yesterday afternoon. Yesterday!”

“We’ve searched the whole house,” Kinn adds. “Chay’s phone is in his room. We’re worried he might have been taken by the Italians, as a revenge…”

“Though no one’s explained to me yet just how would the Italians get into the main family’s house in the first place,” Vegas comments, rolling his eyes.

“Well, I suppose you’re gonna have to ask them,” Porsche snaps. “Or do you have a better idea where Chay could be?!”

Vegas looks at the bathroom door, then at Kim. He cocks his eyebrow.

“Nope,” Vegas smirks. “Absolutely no idea.”

Kim lets out a breath he never realized he was holding.

“Look,” he says. “I’d love to help, really–”

“Well, get up and help us, then!” Porsche snaps, then grabs the edge of Kim’s blanket and yanks.

Kim didn’t expect it, even though he probably should have. To his horror, the blanket slips from his grasp, revealing the fact that he–

“Why are you naked?” Porsche frowns, narrowing his eyes.

“I was feeling hot,” Kim lies. He can see Vegas turn his back to the bed. Judging by the way his shoulders shake, it’s not out of some sort of prudery (Vegas probably doesn’t even know the word), but mostly because he’s struggling not to start laughing out loud.

Then he sees Kinn look first at Vegas, then at Kim, and then the bathroom door. Kinn’s eyes go wide.

“There’s AC in this room,” Porsche replies, blinking stupidly.

“Is there? Oh,” Kim replies. “I’m concussed. My brain’s not working properly.”

“Clearly,” Kinn snaps, snatches the blanket from Porsche’s hand and throws is back to Kim. “I’m sorry, love, but my poor little brother is clearly not in the right state of mind. Right, Kim?”

“But Kinn, we need him!”

“I won’t risk my brother’s health! What if he gets brain damage, eh?”

“Further brain damage?” Vegas chuckles, clearly unable to help himself.

“There must be places we haven’t checked, Porsche. How about the spa? I don’t think we’ve been to the spa, right?”

“I have,” Vegas says. “The sauna was very nice.”

“Shut up, Vegas,” Kinn growls, then raises his voice. “We will go check the spa, and I’m sure Chay will turn up somewhere!”

“Why are you yelling?”

“No reason. Come on, love. Let’s go, Vegas.”

“I think I should stay for a bit, actually,” Vegas replies. “Look for clues.”

“Absolutely not!” Kinn says hurriedly, already pushing Vegas out of the room. “Let’s go to the spa. You can try the sauna again.”

“So you can lock me up in there? Thanks, I’ll pass.”

“Don’t make me regret saying I’m glad you made it out alive yesterday, you dickhead,” Kinn growls. “Out! Both of you!”

The door shuts behind the three of them and Kim whines, pulling the blanket over his head.

“Wow. That was close, P’Kim,” a voice says. “I should probably go and, uhm, turn up somewhere, right?”

“Probably, yeah,” Kim nods, even though Porchay can’t really see it.

He pulls the blanket back down, only to see the door open yet again. Kinn’s yelled Porsche, no! and Vegas’ laughter is the only warning Kim gets before Porsche walks back in.

“I’m sorry, Kim, but we really need your–” He stops dead in his tracks as his gaze falls at the person standing by Kim’s bed.

“Uhm,” Porchay says, smiling brightly. “Hey, hia. I heard you were looking for me?”

“Chay?” Porsche blinks. “Why… why are you naked?”

Kim assesses the distance between himself and Porsche, Porsche and the door, and himself and the door. He considers Porsche’s shock, the fact that his focus is currently on Chay, that Kim himself is naked and kind of tangled up in the blanket…

It’s extremely risky. The possibility of failure is enormous.

Then a chuckling Vegas quickly steps into the room, stands between Porsche and the door and winks.

Kim stops thinking. He bolts.

*

“So anyway. Picture Khun Kim, in his birthday suit, running through the hospital’s corridor, Porsche behind him, screaming bloody murder,” Big giggles, taking a sip from his cup of coffee. “Then Chay emerges from the room, equally naked–”

“Wait. Porsche was naked, too?” Pol frowns.

“Of course not. Just Chay and Khun Kim.”

“It’s Khun Chay for you, Biggie.”

“Yes, daddy,” Big smirks, rolling his eyes at Chan, which earns him a halfhearted clip round the ear. “So, Khun Chay is following them, yelling at Porsche not to kill Khun Kim, Porsche–”

“Khun Porsche.”

“Chan, you’re ruining my story! Besides, neither of them wants to be addressed as Khun. You should respect that, baby.”

“So, is it baby or daddy?” Arm asks.

“It’s daddy in the bedroom, baby everywhere else,” Big grins. “You see–”

“I see you’re diverging from your story, Big,” Chan says quickly.

“No, wait, this is actually more interesting! Please, go on,” Tankhun replies leaning in closer.

“Uhm, what exactly are you doing here, Khun Nu?” Big dares to ask, because at this point, he can no longer ignore the lavishly dressed figure seated between Arm and Pol.

“I missed all the drama and Vegas refuses to send me the video, of course! I’m sure I’ll be able to get it out of Pete sooner or later, but until I do… But back to that daddy thing.”

“Back to the story, Big,” Chan says in a tone that doesn’t take no for an answer.

“Right. So, Porsche is screaming he’s not gonna kill Khun Kim, just make him feel sorry he’s still alive, Khun Kinn is trying to use his authority as the head of the main family to stop Porsche, but Porsche tells him he knows where he can shove that fucking ring.”

“Oooh,” Tankun grins. “Arm, Pol, memorize everything, you’re gonna enact it for me later.”

“Khun Nu!” Pol whines.

“And then,” Big continues, “the door of one of the rooms open, and Pete steps out, standing right in Porsche’s way, between Porsche and Khun Kim. And he just… stands there, looking at Porsche.”

“So when’s the funeral?” Arm asks.

“Come on, Arm!” Pol replies, rolling his eyes. “Pete has tamed Vegas. Vegas. You think Porsche was a problem for him?”

“Yeah, he totally wasn’t,” Big grins. “The idiot just stopped.”

“Big.”

“Khun Porsche stopped,” Big sighs. “A second later, Chay catches up, then Khun Kinn, and Khun Kim stops, too, and then Chay walks right around Pete and grabs Khun Kim’s hand and tells his brother that I’m sorry, hia, but I love him and I forgive him and if you love me then you will forgive him too, because he’s the most important person in my life! And you can actually see it in Porsche’s eyes that if it were up to him, Khun Kim would already be lying in a pool of his own blood, preferably cut into tiny pieces, but it’s not up to him, and besides, Pete is staring at him with this think twice before you act, bitch look on his face, you know the one.”

“You mean the one with the kindest, warmest smile you’ve ever seen?” Arm nods.

“That one, yeah. So of course that Porsche yields, and then Chay lifts Khun Kim up and spins him around and kisses him, and then Khun Kinn invites them to have dinner together… Yeah, and that’s about it. So they’re upstairs now and if Khun Kim’s lucky, his dinner won’t even be poisoned. And Khun Vegas is probably fucking Pete, because the first thing he did when he stopped recording everything was saying that that was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, and then he dragged Pete right back into his room.”

“My poor Pete,” Tankhun sighs. “Injured, and ravaged by a ruthless maniac. I’m sure he’s in heaven. But it also explains why Vegas texted me to go fuck myself when I requested that video. He just has better things to do!”

“Yeah. Like Pete,” Pol chuckles.

“Khun Nu, do you think Porsche will let Khun Kim date Chay?” Arm asks.

“I don’t want to let Kim date the poor baby!” Tankhun proclaims dramatically. “Alas, it seems that Chay insists. And Porsche will do anything for the boy, even if it means forgiving my idiot of a brother. So yes. They will definitely date.”

“Maybe it’ll make Khun Kim stop being such an angry bitch.”

“Aaand I’ve just had enough,” Chan announces and gets to his feet. “Let’s go, Big.”

“Are you gonna punish me?” Big grins.

“No, don’t punish him!” Tankhun yells. “The boy’s right! Kim is an angry bitch!”

“Khun Nu,” Arm whispers. “I think Big wants to be punished.”

“Nonsense. Why would he want to be punished? Why would you want to be punished, Big? Uhm… Big?”

The door slams shut, and Big and Chan are gone.

“Oh. Oh, I see,” Tankhun nods. “Assholes! Horny assholes, just as everyone in this stupid building! Ugh.”

“Khun Nu…” Pol starts.

“And what are you waiting for?!” Tankhun snaps, folding his arms across his chest. “Didn’t I tell you you’re supposed to enact the story Big told us? Chop chop! Arm, you are Chay. Pol, you’re Porsche. And that lamp is my stupid brother.”

“Wait,” Arm murmurs. “Kim, or Kinn?”

“Kim, of course! Kinn is… Oh, what are we gonna do? We don’t have a Kinn! See, I said two bodyguards weren’t enough for me! Three! I need three!”

“We don’t have a Pete, either, Khun Nu,” Pol dares to say.

“Incredible!” Tankhun yells, slams the table with his hand and gets up.

“K-Khun Nu? Where are you going?” Arm blinks.

“Where do you think?!” Tankhun replies. “To get more bodyguards!”

#kpweek2022 #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #kimchay #kim x chay #kinn x porsche #vegaspete #my fics #kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

KPweek 2022 Day 1: “Can I try?” + love (VegasPete)

This fic can also be found on AO3 ;)

***

“Pete?” Vegas chuckles, tilting his head. “Can I try?”

“No!” Pete growls. “I’ve got this!”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

“One hundred percent?”

“Yup!”

“As you wish. But I’ve been watching you struggling for… seven minutes and forty-three seconds now.”

“I’ve got this!” Pete repeats, glaring at his lover. “I’m a strong, self-sufficient man! I’ve been doing it myself for years! I know I’ve got you to do it now, but you don’t have to help me all the time, do you?”

“Of course not, love,” Vegas grins. “But if you change your mind…”

“I won’t! I can fasten my own goddamn bracelet!” Pete snarls and lifts his right hand to bite down on one end of the offending piece of jewelry.

“Yes, I’m sure this is definitely gonna help,” Vegas nods, watching the complex yoga routine that follows and inevitably ends with Pete screaming and throwing the bracelet against the bedroom wall.

“It’s broken!” the former bodyguard and current mafia wife exclaims. “That’s it! Broken, that’s why it doesn’t work!”

“It’s not broken, sweetie, it’s fine,” Vegas smiles. “Are you sure you don’t want me to try?”

“No. I’m not wearing a bracelet.”

“Shame. I love how this one looks on you.”

Pete scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes pierce right through Vegas’ completely innocent face.

“I know what you’re trying to do, darling, and it’s not gonna work!”

“I’m not even trying to do anything, though.”

“Liar.”

“Just let me do it for you, Pete,” Vegas sighs. “Pretty please?”

Vegas gazes at Pete from beneath his eyelashes and Pete’s paper-thin defenses just… crumble.

“All right. Fine,” he says, rolling his eyes, and goes to fetch the bracelet. “But only because I want to wear it, not because you want me to!”

“Obviously, love.”

“And not because you said you liked it!”

“I’d never have thought that was the reason, I assure you.”

“And definitely not because of those puppy eyes! Never do those again, by the way. You’re a dangerous criminal, Vegas, have some dignity!”

Vegas laughs takes the bracelet from Pete’s hand and fastens it around his wrist within two seconds. Pete purses his lips and glares first at the bracelet, then at his lover.

“There,” Vegas says, smiling brightly. “Perfect.”

“I hate you,” Pete mutters.

“Love you too, sweetie.” Vegas places a quick kiss on Pete’s cheek, making his lover blush slightly. “You look gorgeous, by the way. I guess I will be once again apologizing to Tankhun.”

“Why, for stealing me away from him?”

“No, love. For fucking you in the restroom and therefore ruining his evening.”

“Vegas!”

“Can’t help it,” Vegas shrugs.

“All right, all right,” Pete huffs, rolling his eyes. “Come on. We gotta go. Or we’ll be late, and then you’re gonna have to apologize to Tankhun twice.”

“Right. I’ll get the bike. You can go check on Venice and make some final threats to Macau. I mean, give him some last-minute instructions he’s heard a hundred times already.”

“Asshole. And I wanted to say you’re sweet and thoughtful!”

“I am sweet and thoughtful,” Vegas winks. “I could just throw you over my shoulder and carry you outside.”

“Ha! I’d like to see you try!”

The grin on Vegas’ face is the only warning Pete gets before he’s unceremoniously lifted in the air and hoisted over Vegas’ shoulder.

“You were saying, sweetie?”

“Vegas!” Pete hisses. “Put me down!”

“I don’t think I will, sweetie,” Vegas chuckles, walking out of their bedroom door. “And remember, don’t scream. You’ll wake up our son.”

“Vegas, if you don’t put me down this instant, I can guarantee you won’t have to apologize to Tankhun tonight!”

“Promises, promises,” Vegas says and slaps Pete’s ass with the hand that’s not holding him.

“Vegas, come on!” Pete whines, but Vegas can tell he’s trying very hard not to start laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“Thanks, love.”

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

“I don’t care,” Vegas smiles as he walks into the living room. “Macau, we’re off. Try to keep yourself and the kid alive. If only one of you survives, make sure it’s Venice, okay? If something goes wrong, call me and I’ll be here within twenty minutes. Fifteen in an emergency. Love you. Bye!”

“Have fun, hia,” Macau replies, not even looking up from his phone. “Love you!”

“Wait!” Pete protests. “I forgot to prepare Venice’s bottle–”

“I’ve got it, P’Pete, don’t worry!” Macau assures him. “Enjoy your night out. Everything’s under control!”

“See? Everything’s under control,” Vegas says, slapping Pete again. “Let’s go, sweetie. We don’t wanna make Tankhun wait.”

#kpweek2022 #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #vegaspete #my fics #kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

Day 2: “That’s my family.” + comfort

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

***

Hungover, post-party meetings are never a good idea. They’re not a good idea when it comes to normal people, let alone when it comes to the Theerapanyakul family.

Especially when the currently unofficial part of the minor family is involved.

“Excuse me,” Vegas sighs, pressing his thumb between his brows in a vain attempt to ease his headache. “You called us all the way here only to tell us that the Italians are trying something again, as if it’s somehow unusual.”

“Well, yes–” Kinn starts.

“The Italians are always trying something, for fuck’s sake!” Vegas growls, slamming his palm on the desk.

“Vegas,” Pete murmurs when the one-year-old child in his arms makes an unhappy noise.

“Shit. Sorry,” Vegas sighs and turns to kiss the little boy’s head. “Sorry, Venice. Dad’s gonna bitch at uncle Kinn quietly, all right?”

“Why is the kid here, anyway?” Porsche asks.

“Why are we here, anyway?” Vegas replies, smirking. “If the Italians really are planning something, the head of the minor family should be the one to deal with it.”

“Oh, come on, Vegas,” Porsche groans. “Do we always have to beg for your help?”

“You’ve never begged for our help,” Pete says, bouncing Venice on his legs. “You always call us over and just expect us to offer it. That’s not very nice of you. Right, Ven Ven? Bad uncles. Bad!”

“Is he seriously using the kid to slander us?” Kinn frowns.

“To be fair, you totally deserve it,” Vegas says. “Right, Ven Ven?”

“Did you absolutely have to bring the kid with you?” Kinn sighs when Pete starts to make faces at the child. “I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having in front of him.”

“Maybe you should have mentioned that while inviting us over. Right, Venice? Uncle Kinn said coffee and cake, and when we arrive, he just tells us he wants us to murder a bunch of people. And we haven’t even gotten the cake!”

“You wouldn’t have come if I’d said I had a new mission for you, though.”

“That’s right. We wouldn’t have,” Vegas smiles. “Back to the cake now.”

“Didn’t you mean back to the Italians?”

“My son is very fond of cake.”

The following glaring contest between the two cousins lasts for about thirty seconds and ends with Kinn sighing and looking at Porsche.

“Love, could you please ask someone to bring us some cake?” he mutters. “Quietly. Remember, Tankhun must not find out–”

The meeting room’s door flies open and crashes into the wall with a loud bang, and Kinn mentally pats himself on the back for his idea not to hold the meeting in a room with a glass door.

“Who tried to keep it a secret from me that my beloved Pete is visiting?!” Tankhun yells, then stops dead in his tracks when he sees the child in Pete’s lap. “And my little baby Venice! Oh, come to uncle Tankhun, baby, uncle Tankhun missed you so much…”

“You saw him two days ago,” Kinn murmurs.

“Two whole days!” Tankhun snaps back, lifting a laughing Venice from Pete’s lap. “Look at you, my poor little darling. Your parents wanted you to attend some boring meeting, right? Don’t worry. Uncle Tankhun’s gonna take care of you now. Come on, we’re gonna play! Do you wanna play with uncle Tankhun? Yes, that’s much better than sitting here…”

“Without the cake uncle Kinn promised him,” Vegas adds, smiling sweetly at Kinn.

“You promised him cake and didn’t give him any?!” Tankhun gapes. “You monster! Let’s go, Venice. I’ll give you as many cakes as you want!”

“No. Khun Nu!” Pete says quickly, slipping into his old way to address Tankhun. “Not too many, all right? He’s still little, he shouldn’t be eating it at all, and I need him to sleep tonight.”

“Sleep. Ugh. Boring. Right, Ven Ven?”

“Tankhun. Don’t you dare–” Vegas starts, but the door slams open once again.

“Kinn! The Italians just tried to break into my apartment! What the fuck have you done this time, you moron?”

“Kim?” Kinn blinks. “What the… I mean, are you okay?”

“Obviously,” Kim scoffs, rolls his eyes and folds his arms over his chest. His extremely expensive leather jacket creaks softly at the movement. “They were absolutely useless, by the way. Couldn’t even take a punch. They just went down. The minor family’s goons were at least a bit of a challenge, but those four dickheads? Within ten seconds, they were all sprawled out unconscious on the floor. Boring!”

Kinn feels a comforting hand on his shoulder and it’s the only thing that’s currently stopping him from screaming.

“Thank you for your input, Kim,” he growls instead. “We’re currently trying to find a way to deal with the Italians.”

“What he’s trying to say is that he’s currently trying to convince us to deal with the Italians,” Vegas states. “Hi, Kim, by the way.”

“Hi, Vegas. Hi, Pete,” Kim nods, sitting down on a chair next to Vegas. “Kinn, do you think I could get some coffee? I kinda broke my french press over one of the goons’ head.”

Kinn closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Feel free to go to the cafeteria and ask for the coffee there, Kim. We are having a meeting.”

“Yes. About the Italians. I’m in,” Kim says. “I don’t care about them fucking with you, obviously, but invading my apartment? That’s personal! What if Chay was there?!”

“Except Chay wouldn’t be there because he hasn’t forgiven you yet and he’s not very likely to do it in the foreseeable future or, like, ever. So…” Porsche shrugs.

“I don’t remember asking for your opinion,” Kim growls.

“I don’t remember asking you to be here!” Kinn replies.

“Whatever. It’s not like you’re calling the shots about the mission. Right, Vegas? Pete?”

“Right,” Pete nods. “I think Kim’s presence would help a lot, actually, if he’s willing to go with us.”

“I’m literally the head of the minor family!” Porsche protests, clearly offended.

Pete and Vegas exchange a quick glance. Their silent communication takes up about half a second, and then they both nod in unison and stand up from their chairs.

“Well, it was lovely,” Vegas says.

“But we really gotta go now,” Pete continues.

“You see, last night was a bit wild.”

“And we need to get some sleep.”

“Come on, Venice. We’re gonna have to buy you some cake on our way home.”

“Thank you for taking care of him, Tankhun,” Pete smiles and moves to take the child from Tankhun’s arms.

“Have a nice day, and good luck with the Italians,” Vegas finishes.

“Kinn!” Tankhun exclaims and takes a step back, away from Pete. “Kinn, don’t you dare let them leave now!”

Kinn whines, bending down until his forehead touches the table. He can’t allow those morons to see his tears.

“That’s my family,” he says. “This is what I have to work with.”

“I know, love. I know,” Porsche sighs, burying his fingers in Kinn’s hair to soothe him. “Just breathe. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s not!” Kinn sobs. “Just look what I have! My domesticated psycho cousin, my former best bodyguard who left us to domesticate said psycho cousin–”

“Don’t you dare call me domesticated, Kinn!” Vegas growls.

“And then there’s my dick of a younger brother who always makes sure we know how much he hates us but still comes back every single time he needs something from me!”

“Don’t you dare talk about our little dickhead Kim like that!” Tankhun snaps.

“You still have me, Kinn,” Porsche offers.

“Yeah. I know,” Kinn murmurs, then bangs his head on the table softly. “Trust me. I know.”

“Wow. That was kinda offensive,” Kim chuckles.

“He doesn’t mean it,” Porsche sighs, rolling his eyes. “All right. Whatever. Vegas, Pete, sit back down. We’ll talk about the mission.”

“First, we’ll talk about the cake,” Vegas says, not moving an inch.

“There’s cake? Oh, lovely!” Kim beams. “Can I have some with that coffee?”

Kinn lets out a soft sob.

“There, there,” Porsche mutters, patting his back. “Take your time, honey. Take all the time you need…”

*

“So that’s the plan,” Porsche says several hours later.

“That’s the plan,” Vegas agrees. “Wow. Didn’t even take that long.”

“And there were no casualties, either!” Pete grins. “Good job, everyone. I’m very proud of us!”

“Right. Can someone please untie me now?” Kim growls, tugging at his restraints, also known as Tankhun’s scarf.

“Not yet,” Kinn says, shaking his head. “I’ll call Big and tell him to come here so we can inform him about the plan. Is there really no one else you want for the mission?”

“We have Kim and his pent-up anger. We’ll be fine,” Vegas smirks. “Stop tugging at the scarf, Kim. Not even Pete can get out of those. Now, where exactly did you leave those unconscious Italians?”

#kpweek2022 #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche #vegaspete #my fics #kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

Day 7: “You’re so beautiful.” + your favorite trope

I couldn’t pick one, so the tropes are “there was only one bed” and “found family”.

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

***

“And now we go through the last door…” Vegas’ voice says just as the door starts to open. “And look who it is! Who is it, Ven?”

“Pa!” an excited child in his arms shrieks.

“Venice!” Pete beams, extending his uninjured arm. “Oh, my precious baby, pa missed you so much…”

“Just Ven?” Vegas grins and places his son on Pete’s lap.

“I saw you yesterday. Thoroughly.”

“Ugh. Gross,” Macau says as the door slams shut. “Though I heard pretty much everything about your seeing each other from Chay.”

“He’s the one to talk,” Pete chuckles and holds Venice close to his chest. “My little baby. Is dad taking good care of you, sweetie?”

“No!” Venice proclaims.

Pete raises an eyebrow.

“Traitor,” Vegas grins. “Don’t mind him, he just found a new favorite word.”

“Oh, have you, Venice?”

“No.”

“Just watch. Venice,” Vegas chuckles and kisses the top of the child’s head. “Did you miss pa?”

“No!”

“I see,” Pete laughs. “Well, I suppose it’s better than… the word uncle Porsche taught him.”

“You mean shit?” Macau asks, sitting down on the foot of Pete’s bed.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Macau,” Vegas says in English.

“Love you too, big bro.”

It seems that Venice hasn’t heard the word, though, as he is too busy cuddling up to Pete.

Vegas smiles, watching as Pete wraps his free arm around the child do support him and hold him close.

“You’re so beautiful,” Vegas murmurs. He places his hand on Pete’s knee and gently squeezes. “What did the doctor say? When will you be allowed to go home? Should I bring my torture kit to make him cooperate?”

“No need, love. He can release me tomorrow, if I promise to rest and you promise to do all the housework.”

“Love, I already do most of the housework.”

“Excuse me?!” Macau says.

“Or delegate it on low-cost laborers,” Vegas grins. “Though you could always argue that Macau and his fashion sense are anything but low-cost. Your fault entirely, sweetie.”

“You’re so fucking amusing, hia.”

“Language,” Vegas says automatically, then turns back to Pete. “You know, if I go grab my kit, I’m sure I can make him release you today. In like… twenty minutes.”

“Vegas.”

“All right, I can do it in ten, but I didn’t wanna brag.”

“Vegas,” Pete repeats. “It’s fine. I can wait. It’s not like I won’t make it one more night without the three of you.”

“The thing is, P’Pete, I don’t think hia can make it one more night without you.”

“Macau! I told you–”

“Why?” Pete blinks, turning his head to the young man. “Is it Venice? I know he can be a bit whiny when I’m not around, but I’m sure Vegas can handle him just fine. He looks good. He’s fed, clean, happy… Are you happy, Ven Ven?”

“No.”

“Right, thank you for your input, baby,” Pete laughs.

“It’s not Venice, P’Pete.”

“Macau, I’m warning you, shut your–”

“Vegas,” Pete says calmly, and Vegas goes perfectly silent. “What’s the problem, Macau?”

“Hia’s been sleeping on the couch in Venice’s room since you got shot,” Macau replies, completely ignoring the warning glare Vegas shoots him. “I asked him why, and he said he didn’t wanna sleep in your bed when you aren’t around. Said it was too empty.”

“Oh, Vegas…” Pete coos. “You’re so sweet.”

“If anyone hears about this, both of you are dead,” Vegas growls.

“Too sweet,” Pete grins. “Hey. I just got the bestest idea!”

“Is it torture kit time?”

“No torture!”

“Damn. What is it, then?”

“You can sleep here with me! All three of you, if you want! It’ll be fun! Vegas, you’ll drive home, pack Venice’s things, something for you and Macau…”

“We’re in a hospital, P’Pete. I don’t think it’s allowed–”

“The main family’s hospital,” Pete interrupts him, waving a hand. “We can do anything we want. And if anyone has any problem with it, I’ll just call Tankhun and he’ll arrange it for us. Though then we’d be risking him and Pol and Arm joining the sleepover, too.”

“It’s a lovely plan, Pete, but I’d like to mention there’s only one bed,” Vegas comments.

“Yes. One big, awfully empty bed.”

“And four people.”

“You can hardly count Venice as a person,” Pete protests. “Come on. He’s slept with us before when he was sick. As did Macau, after he got his heart broken by that stupid guy in his school. And this bed is bigger than ours! Could we get a new, bigger bed, by the way? It can be quite handy, you see, as proven yesterday…”

“Phi!” Macau whines.

“Come on, Vegas. It’ll be fun. I’m sure Venice is gonna love it, too.”

“Oh, really?” Vegas lifts his eyebrows and bends down to Venice. “What do you say, young man. Do you want to sleep here with pa and dad and uncle Macau?”

“Yes!” Venice states, and Pete bursts out laughing.

“All right, then,” Vegas chuckles. “You win. We’ll sleep here.”

*

The bed proves to be more than big enough for all of them.

“Who needs a bed this big, anyway?” Macau says from behind Vegas’ back.

“Ask your friend Chay, he’ll tell you,” Vegas smirks into Pete’s hair. “Or you can ask Porsche and Kinn. Or Big and Chan.”

“Does everyone in this family fuck in their hospital beds?”

“Pretty much,” Pete nods, his healthy arm wrapped around already sleeping Venice. “Remember your recovery, Vegas? We had so much fun…”

“You know what, P’Pete,” Macau says and Vegas can feel the mattress move, presumably as Macau lifts himself up on his elbow. “Most of the time, I’m really glad hia found you, but it’s definitely not now.”

“Shut it, you,” Vegas yawns, holding Pete closer to his chest. “Or do you want Pete to run away from us?”

“As if I’d ever run,” Pete murmurs. “I couldn’t live without my family. I love the three of you. Even the annoying teenager.”

“Phi!”

“Sssh. You’ll wake Venice up,” Vegas says. “Stop talking and go to sleep. Annoying teenager.”

“You’re annoying,” Macau grunts, but he lies back down. This time, though, he hugs Vegas from behind. “But I love you, hia. You too, phi.”

“Love you too, annoying teenager,” Vegas smiles, earning himself a pinch in the side. He decides to let it go unpunished for now. He’s sleepy, warm and content, and he wants to stay like this a bit longer.

And if he accidentally adds just a little too much chili in Macau’s dinner tomorrow, well… That still counts as revenge, right?

He kisses the back of Pete’s neck and closes his eyes.

#kpweek2022 #kinnporche the series #vegaspete #vegas theerapanyakul #pete phongsakorn #my fics #kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

Day 3: “Please, kiss me.” + angst

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

*** Kim is prowling through the main family house. His mood is still shitty, has been since yesterday. How dared they do this to him? To tie him up? To keep him tied up while Vegas was having fun with the goons Kim knocked out and took captive?!

It was Kim’s right to be there and torture them! And they just left him out.

Him, Kim Theerapanyakul!

Wik!

Seriously, who dares to push Wik away?

Except for Chay, obviously.

Kim snarls, walking faster. He can’t wait to get home, to his apartment and his beloved punching bag. He really needs it now. Kinn’s lucky he didn’t try to tie Kim up today. But then again, he can’t, not really, not when Vegas isn’t around to actually do the work.

Why did Kim have to come in, anyway? They told Vegas and Pete over the phone!

(They probably didn’t want to risk a repeat of yesterday when Vegas and Pete fucked right next to the bleeding Italian goon. Because they’re apparently both insane and constantly horny. Kim hates them so fucking much…)

“P’Kim!” a voice behind him calls out, making him stop dead in his tracks. He knows the voice, and besides, there’s only one person who calls him P’Kim…

He hears running footsteps coming closer and forces his body to turn around, to check whether he’s dreaming or not.

His gaze falls to where Chay’s eyes are supposed to be, where they always used to be, only to see a perfectly chiseled chin instead.

Kim gulps, his gaze traveling up… up… up…

Oh, fuck, he got taller. How did he get so much taller?!

Sweet little Chay is definitely not so little anymore. He’s basically towering over Kim now. And come on, Kim knew the kid had grown up during the past year, but he hasn’t had a chance to see Chay up close and truly realize just how much he’d really grown.

And it’s not just his height. He’s gained muscle. His shoulders are broader, his arms a bit bigger…

Well, fuck me. Literally, please.

“P’Kim!” Chay repeats, and his eyes are full of deep sorrow and impossible anxiety. “P’Kim, I’ve just heard! Is it true?!”

“Is… what true?” Kim blinks, because Porchay could be referring to quite a number of things and Kim doesn’t want to risk blurting out something he definitely shouldn’t say out loud.

“That you’re going on a mission with everyone! That you’re going to risk your life!”

“I don’t think it’s gonna be that dangerous, Chay,” he murmurs, still staring up. Did Chay get more handsome, too, or is it just Kim’s stupid lovestruck brain making things up?

“How could it not be that dangerous?!” Porchay snaps and pushes Kim against the wall of the corridor and oh, it does things to Kim… “There are going to be guns! And people who are not afraid to use them!”

Kim frowns as the cogwheels in his brain all fall into place with a satisfying click.

“Chay?” he says, fighting a tiny smile. “Are you worried about me?”

“Of course I’m worried about you, you idiot! You could die!” Chay yells. His eyes are glossy with unshed tears that almost break Kim’s heart.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Oh, Chay…”

Chay stops and contemplates for a second, then clearly changes his mind

“I mean, you could die and I wouldn’t care! Because I don’t care about you at all! I hate you!”

He tries to push Kim away, but the movement is unfortunately made impossible by the fact that Kim’s back is still pressed against the wall. So Chay does the next logical thing, which is taking a step back…

“No!” Kim’s lips blurt out before his brain can stop them. At the same time, his hands shoot up to grab Chay’s loose gray T-shirt.

Oh, come on, Kimhan, are you really that desperate? Pathetic.

Porchay stops. Apparently, it’s his turn to be confused as hell. Whatever. Kim doesn’t care. In over a year, this is the first time the boy – no, the young man – has come anywhere near him, and he’s almost as close as Kim’s wanted him to be ever since that terrible realization of how badly he fucked up, and Kim is not willing to let go, not yet, not when he knows Chay’s worried about him.

“What the fuck do you want, Kim?”

And oh, the use of just his name kinda stings.

“Me?” Kim snaps back out of reflex. “You’re the one who came running to me!”

“Because I… Uhm.”

Chay’s so close Kim can feel the slight tremble going through his body, making Kim’s heart speed up.

“Kiss me, Chay,” he whispers. “Please, kiss me…”

That seems to be the right choice of words. Chay looks down at Kim’s lips, then further down at his hands still clutching the gray T-shirt. Kim closes his eyes, waiting for the kiss he so desperately wants… Only to feel Chay abruptly take a step back.

Kim’s hands fall back to his sides.

“What, you need some more information?” Chay scoffs.

“Chay. It’s not…” Kim bites his lower lip hard to stop the tears that are currently trying to well up in his eyes.

“P’Kim?” Chay’s suddenly worried voice asks, and Kim realizes the tears have already spilled.

Oh, fuck it.

He opens his eyes.

“I don’t need any fucking information,” he hears himself say. “I just need you, for fuck’s sake!”

That actually causes Chay to take another step back and frown.

Awesome. Just awesome. Precisely what Kim needed today.

He opens his mouth to take the words back, then closes it again. He doesn’t want to take them back. All he wants right now is to curl up into a tiny ball and cry.

“When’s that mission of yours?” Chay suddenly asks.

“Friday,” Kim replies. “Was supposed to be tomorrow, but Kinn has this charity event to attend, meaning Porsche needs to go with him and Vegas needs to go and fuck it up a little, and Pete of course wants to go with Vegas to stop him from fucking it up too much, and…”

You’re babbling, his brain informs him.

He is. So he stops.

Porchay nods.

“Right,” he says. “Try… try not to get killed, okay?”

And then, before Kim’s brain has a chance to process what he said, Chay turns around and literally runs away.

“What?” Kim replies quite a few seconds after being left alone.

What the hell was that supposed to mean, eh?

Kim shuts his eyes and shakes his head to clear it. It doesn’t help. He can still see Chay’s eyes, feel his surprisingly muscular body against his own…

“Punching bag,” he murmurs, pushing himself away from the wall. “I need my fucking punching bag.”

#kpweek2022 #kinnporche the series #kinnporsche #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay #my fics #kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

Day 5: “Breathe.” + hurt

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

***

Chan stands in front of the group of men ready for a mission, his eyes scrutinizing every single detail of their clothing and equipment. He, as the head of main family’s bodyguards, is technically superior to only one of them (and only when Big himself decides to let him), but he decides to ignore that. His mission today is to make sure all of them come back alive.

“Big,” he says. “Are you wearing your bulletproof vest?”

“Chan,” the bodyguard sighs, rolling his eyes. “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“You know the rules, love,” Chan replies. “I’m never letting you leave without it again.”

“You’re the one to talk. Ugh. Fine!” Big undoes the top three buttons of his shirt and pulls the fabric aside to reveal a black vest. “Happy now?”

“Thank you,” Chan smiles.

“Don’t worry,” Vegas chuckles. “I’m lucky I’m allowed to leave the house without a bulletproof vest.”

“Hey. I’m wearing it too, remember?” Pete smirks.

“Yes, but only because I insisted.”

“Gentlemen,” Chan interrupts them. “Khun Porsche?”

“I’ve told you a million times to just call me Porsche,” the man in question groans, pulling down the neck of his T-shirt. He turns to Kinn and lifts an eyebrow. “I’m wearing it. Okay?”

“Good,” Kinn nods. It seems to Chan that he’s a little paler than usual, and Chan doesn’t blame him. He hates to let Big go, too.

“Khun Kim?”

“If you try to come anywhere near me with that thing, I will scratch and bite,” Kim growls. “I’m not wearing a fucking bulletproof vest.”

“What, you believe the bullets are gonna bounce off your superstar aura?” Vegas smirks. “Or off your angst?”

“No, Vegas. They’re gonna bounce off my anger.”

“You do seem angrier than usual,” Vegas admits. “Any particular reason?”

“Gentlemen,” Chan repeats. “Please. This is not the time and the place. “Let’s go through the plan–”

“We go in, we kill everyone we see, we walk out. Simple. Lovely. Let’s go,” Kim says and grabs his leather jacket.

“I’m starting to think taking him was a mistake,” Pete murmurs when Kim disappears through the doorway.

“Nah. He clearly needs it,” Vegas chuckles. “He’s really fucking mad.”

“Are you sure you don’t need more people?” Kinn says, turning to Porsche. “You can take every single bodyguard in this house if you want.”

“We’ll be fine, Kinn,” Porsche replies. “The fewer the better. And I have your lucky gun, don’t I?”

Kinn sighs and blinks a few times, and Chan knows better than to comment on that.

“Just… Just make sure you come back, okay?”

“I will. I promise you. I will.”

“I meant everyone,” Kinn says, glancing at Vegas. “Including you, asshole. I’m not taking care of your boyfriend and your kid.”

“Fuck off, Kinn, my boyfriend can take care of himself,” Vegas smirks. “Let’s go. We have work to do.”

*

Vegas plasters himself against the wall by Pete’s side, catching his breath.

“Do you think Kim’s aware of the fact that guns exist, or does he think he needs to beat up everyone with his bare hands?” Pete asks casually while he reloads his gun.

“He’s got a lot of repressed anger,” Vegas replies.

“That doesn’t answer my question!”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him grab like… five guns already, but he always just shoots its owner and throws the gun away.”

“Great. He’s literally insane.”

“And you’ve only noticed that now?”

“We should have taken Arm and Pol.”

“We tried, remember? Khun said he’d beat me up with the tray if I mentioned it again!”

“Oh, look. Vegas Theerapanyakul, fearsome mafioso, scared of a lunatic with a food tray,” Pete grins, turning to Vegas. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Vegas replies and presses his lips against Pete’s in a quick kiss.

*

“Fuck, Porsche!” Big yells pushing Porsche out of the way of an incoming bullet. “Could you please be more careful?! If you get yourself killed, Khun Kinn will kill me, and I’m not sacrificing myself for you again!”

“Good,” Porsche nods, shooting the guy who fired the bullet. “Because Chan said that if you do, he will murder me in the most painful way imaginable.”

“So he will hand you over to Vegas?”

“Probably,” Porsche nods. “Oh, and by the way! Thanks for not calling me Khun Porsche, it really means a–”

“Fuck. Don’t mention it to Chan, or I’m not getting any head anytime soon.”

“Don’t you mean he’ll have your head soon?”

“I said what I said,” Big smirks.

“What… Oh. Yeah. Not a word,” Porsche chuckles. “Just keep calling me Porsche, please.”

“Sure, Khun Porsche.”

“Asshole.”

“Likewise.”

They hear a gunshot from the next room. That’s not weird in any way, obviously. The whole building has been ringing with gunshots for the past ten minutes. This one, though, is followed by something neither of them really wanted to hear.

“Pete!” Vegas’ voice screams.

“Oh, fuck,” Porsche mutters and takes off without thinking.

While he runs to the door leading to the next room, he hears a few more gunshots, and then… silence.

He throws the door open, only to immediately find himself face to face with the business end of Vegas’ gun.

It’s probably only luck that keeps Vegas from pulling the trigger before thinking. The man’s eyes are wide open, his face anguished…

“Vegas,” Pete says. “Easy. I’m here, love. I’m here.”

A bloodied hand touches Vegas’ arm, forcing him to lower the gun.

“Fuck, Pete,” Porsche murmurs. “I thought…”

“It’s just my arm. I’m fine,” Pete replies, moving to stand in front of Vegas. He gently touches his lovers face and leans their foreheads together. “Breathe, Vegas. Breathe.”

“Pete…” Vegas whispers, taking a long, shaky breath.

“I’m here. Breathe.”

“You’re bleeding,” Vegas murmurs.

“Doesn’t matter. Are you with me?”

Vegas nods and wraps his arms around Pete to hold him closer.

“I saw…”

“Well, the bulletproof vest is pretty useful,” Pete smiles. “It’s just the arm. But the shirt is ruined.”

“I’ll buy you a new one. I’ll buy you ten of them. But we need to stop the bleeding first.”

Running footsteps make Porsche and Big raise their guns and turn towards the door, but the newcomer turns out to be a breathless, slightly sweaty Kim.

“Where is everyone?!” he asks, wiping some blood from his forehead. “They can’t all be dead! I’ve only just started!”

“I’m afraid they are, Khun Kim. Maybe you could find one or two unconscious…”

“Where?” Kim asks, looking around. “And why is Vegas bandaging Pete’s arm with a dead Italian goon’s silk scarf?”

“Because I didn’t allow him to use is own shirt,” Pete replies.

“Are you all right, Kim?” Porsche asks. “You look a bit… off.”

“No, I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I just hit my head a little, but I’m–”

With that, his eyes roll back into his head and he collapses to the floor.

“Oh, great,” Big sighs. “I’m not gonna be the one explaining this to Khun Kinn.”

“No need to,” Porsche replies. “I’ll just tell him his brother’s an idiot. That should be enough…”

*

Pete has to stay in the Theerapanyakul family’s private hospital for a few days. His wound isn’t that bad, but the doctors and Vegas insisted. Pete hates it, of course. He misses his family, especially after sending Vegas home to take care of their son.

He is currently waiting for his coffee by the vending machine when he sees a familiar figure sneaking around with all the subtlety of an elephant in a porcelain factory.

“Chay?”

The figure stops dead in his tracks, staring straight ahead, as if Pete’s a T-rex and won’t be able to see him if he stays perfectly still.

Pete chuckles.

“Kim’s door is that one,” he says, pointing. “He’ll be fine. It’s just a mild concussion. And if anyone asks, I never saw you.”

“Thanks, P’Pete!” Chay beams and starts for the door without a second of hesitation.

Pete just shakes his head with a smile and takes his coffee cup.

Kim’s repressed anger is probably going to go away pretty soon…

#kpweek2022 #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #vegaspete #my fics #kpweekfic

[thearvariblues]

Day 4: “You’re so sappy.” + fluff

You can find the whole fic using this tag, or you can check it out on AO3. :)

***

“He’s trying to piss me off,” Kinn growls.

“I’m sure he isn’t, honey,” Porsche chuckles, taking a sip from his glass of champagne.

“He is! Look at him. Just look!”

“I am looking.”

“He’s smiling!”

“That’s what people do when they attend charity events. Everyone’s smiling. Well, except for you. Look at Pete. He’s basically beaming.”

“Pete’s always beaming when he’s with Vegas, though.”

“Yeah, I know. Never understood why, but… I’m glad he’s happy.”

Kinn sighs, lifting his own glass.

“Shut up, Porsche, or I’m gonna put something in your drink. Something like sleeping pills.”

“Damn. And I was thinking about something more fun. Something to make me a bit excited...”

“You can’t,” Kinn replies and his tone makes it very clear that he won’t tolerate any objections. “You have a mission tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” Porsche grunts. “Really, Kinn?”

“Really.”

“You could always come with us, you know. To make sure I’m all right.”

Kinn takes Porsche’s free hand in his and shakes his head.

“I’d love to, Porsche, you know that. But papa wouldn’t let me. Don’t forget I’m his heir.”

“And I’m the head of the minor family, what’s your point?” Porsche smirks, cocking his eyebrow. “Wait. I’ve got it. You’re still afraid Vegas might put a bullet through your head and claim it was an accident, right?”

“Well… That, too,” Kinn admits.

“Oh, Kim!” Porsche snorts. “Come on, he’s not so bad! I mean, he is, but he wouldn’t do that. He’s trying to be nice. And I think he likes you, even though he doesn’t want to admit it our loud.”

“It’s Vegas. Vegas doesn’t like anyone, except for Pete, Venice and Macau.”

“He likes me! We’ve talked things through, and he’s actually quite nice!”

Kim narrows his eyes at Porsche, who immediately realizes he’s made a mistake.

“Nice, you say,” Kinn growls, and Porsche realizes just how big the mistake really was.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he protests. “I’m saying that if you actually made some effort and talked to him, you might not need to worry about him shooting you. At least most of the time.”

“Most of the time?”

“Let’s be honest, Kinn, there are times when I want to shoot you.”

“I’m feeling very loved now,” Kinn chuckles.

“Oh, come on. You are,” Porsche laughs, leaning his head against Kinn’s shoulder. “Hey. The auction’s about to start. You think you might let Vegas win just once?”

“No way in hell, Porsche.”

“Well. No wonder he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you, then.”

“Porsche. If Vegas wants to beat me, he’s gonna have to do it himself.”

Porsche bites his lower lip as Kinn slams the bathroom door shut behind them.

“I can’t believe what you just did, Porsche!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, darling,” Porsche smiles, batting his eyelashes. “What did I do?”

Kinn snarls and pushes Porsche against the counter, right next to the sink.

“You dare pretend you don’t know?” he asks in a tone that would scare just about anyone, but not Porsche. Porsche is used to it. And he knows damn well that when it comes to him, Kinn is all bark and no bite. It’s Porsche who tends to bite.

That’s why he just smiles, lifts his hands and fixes Kinn’s bow tie.

“I really don’t. Care to enlighten me, love?”

“You,” Kinn growls. “You distracted me. With your lips and your hand on my cock, in front of all those people!”

“Why would I do that?” Porsche asks innocently.

“To help Vegas win of course!”

Porsche grins.

“Well, technically, I was helping the minor family. As I, as its head, definitely should be doing, right?”

“You…”

Porsche laughs, wrapping his arms around Kinn.

“Oh, come on, you. Let him have it. Didn’t you see how happy and excited he was? It was almost cute.”

“Please, never call my cousin cute again. It’s downright scary,” Kinn murmurs.

“Oh, Kinn. Kinn, Kinn, Kinn…”

Porsche chuckles and presses a kiss against Kinn’s temple. Then a bit lower, on his cheek. Then a little to the left…

“How does he intend to pay for it, anyway? It’s not like he has all the minor family’s money.”

“Well, no, but…”

Kinn narrows his eyes.

“Porsche?”

“All right. Just listen to me, okay?” Porsche jumps up on the counter and wraps his legs around Kinn’s hips to hold him close and stop him from running away. He feels like he’s going to need it. “Remember when you wanted Vegas to start helping us, but you told him he’s definitely not gonna be on the minor family’s payroll, and he basically told you to go fuck yourself, but then came back a few days ago and said he’d changed his mind?”

Kinn tries to jerk away, but Porsche doesn’t let him, no matter how much he wriggles. Thank god he never skips his leg days.

“Porsche, what did you do?”

“Put him on the payroll, obviously.”

“As?!”

“Consultant,” Porsche grins. “And Pete’s the head of security of the minor family, of course.”

“So we’re paying both of them?!”

“Good thing you never check the accounts of the minor family, eh?”

“Porsche…” Kinn growls.

“Kinn,” Porsche grins, wraps his arms around Kinn’s waist again and leans his head on Kinn’s shoulder. “Come on. I love you.”

“You went behind my back– ”

“Nope. You said I was supposed to deal with the affairs of the minor family myself. So I did.”

“Not when it concerns Vegas, though.”

“Yeah, you should have specified that.”

Kinn sighs and Porsche can feel him shaking his head. Good. He’s giving up. Calming down. And sure thing, within a few seconds, Porsche can feel a pair of hands on his hips.

“All right. You win.”

“I know.”

“Porsche!”

“Kinn…” Porsche purrs. “Have I ever told you how happy I am that you kidnapped me and forced me to work for you? And that we got lost in those woods? That you made me fall in love with you? It changed my life, Kinn, really. I can’t imagine living without you, darling.”

“You’re so sappy, Porsche,” Kinn huffs, his breath hot against Porsche’s skin. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re just trying to distract me from going after Vegas.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.”

Porsche laughs, sneaking his fingers underneath Kinn’s expensive jacket.

“I mean it, though. I love you. And I’m glad I found you.”

“I love you, too, Porsche. You know how precious you are to me.”

“Mhm…” Porsche hums. “Precious enough to let me borrow your lucky gun for the mission again?”

“Of course,” Kinn replies, then laughs when Porsche’s hands move towards his crotch. “Oh, you want it now?”

“Yes. Can I have it? Please?”

“Oh, Porsche,” Kinn murmurs. “Anytime.”

#kpweek2022 #kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #kinn theerapanyakul #porsche pachara #my fics #kpweekfic