Chapter Text
The nightmare came for Kinn again.
He was back in that warehouse, the one where Tawan had nearly destroyed everything. The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder and blood. Tawan was there, laughing, his face twisted into something cruel and familiar. And then the bullet hit, not Kinn, but someone behind him. He turned, screaming, but he couldn't see who it was. The body crumpled to the ground, blood pooling around it, and Kinn couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't...
"Kinn. Kinn, wake up."
A hand on his shoulder. Steady. Warm.
Kinn gasped, sitting upright, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. For a moment, he didn't know where he was. The room was dark, the shadows unfamiliar, but then the hand tightened on his shoulder, grounding him.
"You're safe. You're at home. It was just a dream."
The voice was calm, measured, and impossibly familiar. Kinn turned to see Big kneeling beside the bed, his face half-lit by the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains. His expression was as it always was, carefully neutral, professionally composed, but his eyes held something softer. Something that had been there more and more often in the weeks since Tawan.
"Big." Kinn's voice was hoarse, raw from sleep and residual terror. "I didn't, I didn't mean to disturb you."
"You didn't." Big released his shoulder, but didn't move away. "I was already there. I heard you..." He stopped, a faint flush creeping up his neck. "I heard you calling out."
Kinn looked at him then. Really looked. Big was still in his day clothes, though it was well past midnight. His hair was slightly disheveled, as if he'd been running his fingers through it, a nervous habit Kinn had learned to recognize over the past year. There was a cup of tea on the bedside table, still steaming. He'd been here for a while, watching over Kinn's sleep.
"You've been staying awake," Kinn said quietly. Not a question.
Big's jaw tightened. "You've been having the nightmares more frequently. Someone needs to be here when you wake up."
"You don't have to.."
"I know I don't have to." Big's voice was still soft, but there was a thread of steel in it. "I want to."
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken meaning. Kinn had been noticing things lately, the way Big's gaze lingered on him just a moment too long, the way his hand would brush against Kinn's when he passed him a file, the way he always seemed to know exactly what Kinn needed before Kinn himself knew.
Kinn had been noticing, and he hadn't been running from it.
"Stay," Kinn said, the word leaving his mouth before he could think about it. "I mean, tonight. Just… stay."
Big's eyes widened, a crack in that carefully maintained composure. "Kinn, I'm on duty. If anyone finds out..."
"Then don't let anyone find out." Kinn shifted over on the bed, making room. He knew he was being reckless. He knew there were a thousand reasons why this was a bad idea. But the nightmare was still clinging to the edges of his mind, and the thought of being alone right now made his chest tighten with something that felt like fear.
Big hesitated. For a long moment, he stood perfectly still, and Kinn could see the war happening behind his eyes, duty versus desire, caution versus want.
Then, slowly, Big sat down on the edge of the bed. He didn't lie down, didn't fully commit, but he was there. Present. Real.
"Thank you," Kinn whispered.
Big nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Sleep, Khun Kinn. I'll be right here."
Kinn closed his eyes, and for the first time in weeks, the nightmares didn't come.
---
Three Months Earlier
The compound was still reeling from the Tawan incident. The betrayal had cut deep, not just into Kinn's heart but into the very foundations of the family. Trust was fragile. Loyalty was questioned. Every shadow seemed to hide a potential threat.
Kinn had retreated into himself, barely eating, barely sleeping. His father had sent him on a mandatory leave of absence, but Kinn had refused to leave the compound. He couldn't. He needed to be here, needed to be in control, needed to, he didn't know what he needed. He just knew he couldn't stop.
It was Big who found him, three weeks into the spiral.
Kinn was in his office at 3 AM, staring at reports he'd already read a hundred times. The words blurred together, meaningless. He couldn't focus, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
"The Minor Family's new development proposals can wait until morning."
The voice came from the doorway. Kinn looked up to see Big standing there, holding a tray with tea and a plate of rice porridge. His face was as impassive as ever, but there was something in his posture, a tension, a worry, that betrayed him.
"I can't sleep," Kinn said, the admission falling from his lips before he could stop it.
"I know." Big set the tray down on the desk, moving with practiced efficiency. "You haven't slept properly in weeks. You've barely eaten. Chan asked me to check on you."
"Chan sent you?" Kinn's voice was flat, hollow.
Big paused. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. "No. Chan didn't send me. I came because I was worried."
Kinn looked up, meeting Big's eyes. For a moment, something passed between them, something that hadn't been there before. Or maybe it had been there all along, buried under layers of duty and propriety and fear.
"Worried?" Kinn repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.
Big didn't look away. "Yes, Khun Kinn. I'm worried about you."
---
The weeks that followed were a slow, careful unraveling.
Big started bringing Kinn meals he'd prepared himself, nothing fancy, but always Kinn's favorites. He started staying longer after his shifts ended, sitting in the corner of Kinn's office and reading, just to keep him company. He started touching Kinn more often, a hand on the shoulder, a brush of fingers when passing papers, a steadying grip when Kinn swayed from exhaustion.
Kinn noticed all of it. And slowly, tentatively, he started to respond.
It began with small things. A lingering glance. A softer tone of voice when he spoke to Big. A hand on Big's arm, just for a moment, when he was thanking him for something.
And then, one night in the garden, it became something more.
They'd been walking together, Kinn unable to sleep and Big refusing to leave him alone. The garden was quiet, the only sounds the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. Kinn had stopped beneath the old banyan tree, the one where he'd spent hours as a child, dreaming of a life that didn't involve violence and betrayal.
"I remember you," Kinn said suddenly. "When you first came to the compound. You were so young. So determined. You wanted to prove yourself."
Big's expression flickered. "I was just doing my job, Khun Kinn."
"Your job. Yes." Kinn turned to face him, searching his eyes in the dim light. "But it was more than that, wasn't it? Even then."
Big didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat was too tight, his heart pounding too fast.
Kinn stepped closer. "You've always been there for me. Even when I didn't deserve it. Even when I didn't see you."
"Kinn," Big breathed, and it was the first time he'd used Kinn's name without the formal title. The first time he'd let himself be vulnerable.
Kinn reached up, his hand cupping Big's jaw. "I see you now. I see everything."
And then he kissed him.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't tentative. It was months of suppressed longing, of fear and grief and the desperate need to feel something good again. Big responded immediately, his hands fisting in Kinn's shirt, pulling him closer.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard. Big's eyes were bright with unshed tears.
"You can't..." Big started, his voice cracking. "Kinn, you can't do this. Not because you're lonely. Not because you're hurting. I can't be that."
"I'm not doing this because I'm lonely." Kinn pressed his forehead against Big's. "I'm doing this because I've been in love with you for months and I was too scared to admit it. Because you're the only person who makes me feel like I'm not drowning. Because I trust you. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone."
Big closed his eyes, a single tear escaping down his cheek. "You don't know what you're saying."
"Then show me," Kinn whispered. "Show me what I'm saying. Let me prove I mean it."
---
The night in the garden was the beginning of something beautiful.
In the months that followed, Kinn and Big built a relationship that was private, careful, and deeply precious. They didn't tell anyone except Tankhun, who had stumbled upon them kissing in the library and immediately burst into tears of joy, and Chan, who had noticed the shift in their dynamic and quietly given his blessing.
"Just be careful," Chan had said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "The world isn't kind to people like us. Especially in this family."
They'd taken his warning to heart. Their relationship remained a secret, a sanctuary away from the violence and politics of the mafia. In the quiet moments between missions and meetings, they found solace in each other.
Kinn taught Big to play chess, though Big always seemed to lose. (Kinn knew he was losing on purpose, but he never called him out on it.)
Big cooked for Kinn, simple meals that reminded him of home, of the warmth he'd been missing his whole life.
They spent nights in Kinn's quarters, tangled together, talking about everything and nothing. Kinn told Big about his mother, about the dreams he'd had before he became what he was. Big told him about the orphanage, about the loneliness he'd carried with him since childhood.
"I never thought I'd have this," Big admitted one night, his head resting on Kinn's chest. "I never thought I'd be this happy."
Kinn pressed a kiss to his hair. "Neither did I."
---
One Year Later
The first time Kinn saw Porsche, he felt something shift inside him.
It was at the bar, the night Porsche had been brought in. The man was a hurricane of defiance and charm, refusing to be cowed by the mafia, refusing to be anything but himself. He was beautiful, wild and untamed and utterly captivating.
Kinn couldn't look away.
He told himself it was nothing. He told himself it was just curiosity, just the novelty of meeting someone so different from the people who surrounded him. He told himself it wouldn't change anything.
But it did change things. It changed everything.
---
The cracks started appearing slowly at first.
Kinn became more distant, more withdrawn. He made excuses to be away from the compound, to be away from Big. He started spending more time with Porsche, watching him, wanting him.
Big noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything about Kinn.
But Big didn't say anything. He didn't confront Kinn, didn't demand answers. He just tried harder. He brought Kinn his favorite meals, stayed longer in his office, reached for him in the dark of night.
It wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
"I think we should end this."
The words came out of Kinn's mouth before he could stop them. He was sitting in his office, Big standing before him with a hopeful smile that was already starting to fade.
"End what?" Big asked, though the look in his eyes said he knew exactly what Kinn meant.
"This." Kinn gestured vaguely between them. "Us. I think we should end us."
Big's face went pale. "Did I do something wrong? If I did something.."
"No." Kinn couldn't meet his eyes. "No, it's not you. It's just, Porsche makes me feel something. Something I haven't felt in a long time. And I think I need to explore that."
"Porsche." Big's voice was hollow, as if the word itself had wounded him. "You want to end us because of Porsche."
"I told you what we had was just a passing fantasy." The words felt wrong, even as Kinn said them. "Something that helped me heal. But what I feel for Porsche, it's real. It's the real thing."
Big's composure cracked. His eyes filled with tears, though he fought to keep them from falling. "We were happy, Kinn. I thought we were happy."
"I thought so too." Kinn forced himself to keep going, to keep hurting the man he'd once loved. "But I was wrong."
Big stood frozen for a long moment, absorbing the blows. And then, with a dignity that made Kinn's chest ache, he nodded.
"I understand," he said quietly. "I'll... I'll transfer to Kim's detail. I won't be in your way."
"Big, you don't have to..."
"I know I don't have to." Big's voice was still soft, but there was steel in it. The same steel he'd used when he told Kinn he wanted to stay that first night. "I'm doing this because I need to. Because I can't..." His voice broke. "Because I can't be around you right now. I'm sorry."
He turned and walked out of the room, his back straight, his steps measured. Kinn watched him go, feeling something in his chest splinter and break.
He told himself it was for the best. He told himself he'd made the right choice.
He told himself a lot of things. None of them were true.
---
Big made it to the hallway before his composure completely shattered.
He stumbled against the wall, pressing his palm to his mouth to muffle the sobs that were trying to escape. His body shook with the effort of keeping himself together.
"I would have followed you anywhere," he whispered to the empty corridor. "I would have loved you forever."
He heard Kinn's voice through the door, already talking to someone else, probably Porsche. He heard the laugh, the lightness that had been missing for months.
And Big understood.
He'd never been enough. He'd never be enough.
---
The transfer to Kim's detail was processed within the week.
Chan knew, of course. He'd seen the heartbreak in Big's eyes, the way he was holding himself together with nothing but sheer will. But Chan said nothing, only nodded when Big requested the change.
Kim didn't ask why. He just accepted Big's presence with a gruff nod and assigned him to the most dangerous jobs. It was Kim's way of testing him, seeing if he was truly ready for the harder work.
Big threw himself into the missions, desperate for anything that would distract him from the ache in his chest. He worked himself to exhaustion, slept in his new quarters, and avoided the main compound like the plague.
He saw Kinn sometimes, from a distance. He always looked away.
---
Kinn noticed the absence more than he expected to.
He'd walk into a room and expect to see Big in his usual spot, only to find someone else there. He'd reach for him in the night, his body remembering the warmth that had been there for months, and find only empty space.
He told himself it was for the best. He told himself Porsche was what he needed.
But sometimes, in the quiet moments, he caught himself wondering if he'd made a terrible mistake.