Chapter Text
Kinn can’t help but gasp at seeing the familiar face. “Sire! Your Majesty, I-”
But the usually serene royal visage is looking at him with a distinctively not royal expression. In fact, he’d say it’s one of outright derision. The shock of seeing the man again is what keeps the tears at bay because the last time he saw- the last time-
“You again.” That voice. It’s displeased with him and Kinn wants to prostrate himself and beg for forgiveness, whatever he’s done to deserve the disdain from his King. The look disheartens him but Kinn can’t help but feel the thrill of having the King’s attention on him, so directly.
Big, who was flanking Kinn on his ill-advised visit to Hum Bar, tried to sigh discreetly. His mafia boss had been more than a little weird since waking up from a coma a few days ago but calling some bartender “Your Majesty” is a new one. This was not what he signed up for when Khun Nu suggested they go to one of the places Kinn had been before the assassination attempt and subsequent coma.
Kinn took a step closer to his beloved liege. “Your Majesty-”
“What, you’re back for that stupid watch? I already pawned it.” There isn’t a single stitch of remorse in the King’s face and it looks exactly like when he’d announced a new edict in court.
But what’s this about a watch? Kinn turned to Big.
Big summoned up what little patience he had left and quickly explained the initial meeting that Kinn had had with the bartender, a little over a month ago. Prior to the second attempt by the Italians that left Kinn in a two week coma. And when he woke up, Kinn was no longer the cold mafia heir that Big had fallen in love with.
“This is Porsche, your-” dammit, Big almost said your majesty as well, “Khun Kinn. He’s the bartender who saved you from the Italians during their first attempt. He took your watch as collateral, pawned it off, and now you have it back, courtesy of Khun Kim.” Big gestured at Kinn’s wrist, where the formerly pawned watch was.
“Oh.”
That went easier than Big thought-
“But that’s not Porsche, that’s King Pachara,” Kinn whined in distress.
Of course it wasn’t going to be that easy. Big cursed himself for even thinking that Kinn could be remotely normal at this point.
“If you two are done discussing whatever mafia goons talk about, are you gonna order a drink or what?” Porsche asks.
That fucking brat, even if Big isn’t in love with Kinn anymore, that’s no way his boss should be addressed-
“Your Majesty! As if I could ever accept a drink from those precious hands-”
Big wants to rub his hands over his face in complete frustration but he forces himself to clench his fists by his side instead. This was going to be a long night.
Kinn looked like a lost child, standing outside of the nondescript Hum Bar. Yok had kicked both of them out after witnessing Kinn’s babbling about Porsche being a king and addressing him as royalty, saying she did not tolerate drug abusers in her establishment.
As offended as Big was, it was more important to do damage control first, and he’d dragged Kinn out of the bar.
And currently, he was on a not fun call reporting to Khun Kim while keeping an eye out on the despondent heir of the Theerapanyakuls.
“What do you mean, the king was there?”
“Khap, Khun Kim. The object of his ranting is apparently the bartender who helped him before the incident.”
“Ai’Kim! Put him on speaker!” Big hears the distinct tone of Tankhun in the background. He is not paid enough for this.
Kim’s voice filters through again. “It’s probably some psychological thing his brain made up using the last person that saved him. Anyway, where are you now?”
“Outside of the bar, Khun Kim.”
“Big! Bring him home!” Tankhun demands.
“Khap, Khun Nu. I will make sure that Khun Kinn-”
“No, you big idiot, bring the bartender home, the king, whatever Kinn thinks he is-”
There’s a noise of protest on the other side of the phone and Big is of the exact same sentiment as Kim. Bring that bratty, ticking time bomb, inside the Theerapanyakul compound?! Who knows how he would take advantage of Kinn’s delicate mental state and his delusions.
A day later, Big is escorting the bartender through the lobby of the main family compound.
An enthusiastic Tankhun claps his hands in delight and Big clenched his jaw. He’d done his job and he was taking the rest of the day off, as he’d informed Chan.
Porsche, like Yok, had assumed the man was high on drugs or something. It seems like it’s more serious than that.
The man’s older brother, Tankhun, outlined the proposal while the younger one, who looked strangely familiar, scowled with his arms crossed. It’s clear who came up with this plan and who was against it.
“So, your brother, Anakinn, the dude that was running from a bunch of guys over a month ago, is part of the mafia.”
“Correct!”
“And he’s the heir to your little mafia family. But the guys tried to kill him again except he only got severely injured and into a coma.”
Tankhun makes an upset noise at that so Porsche hurries on.
“But when he woke up, he was not exactly like he was before, talking about being some general to a king. And now he’s convinced I’m the king he’s talking about.”
“Yes! Oh look, Kimmy, he’s so clever-”
Kim rolls his eyes. Tough crowd to impress.
“He sort of remembers the stuff from before but is mostly fixated on the idea of me being his king so he can’t focus too much on the mafia shit. Which comes to this stupid plan of paying me to go along with his craziness?”
“He’s not crazy,” Kim hissed out, and it’s the first time Porsche heard him speak that afternoon. Must have touched a nerve.
“Kimmy only hopes that he’s not crazy. Because if Kinn is unstable, like me, that means Kimmy has to be the heir.” Tankhun responds in a nonchalant way but Porsche makes a note not to bring up the word crazy again in anyone’s presence here.
“So… what do I need to do?” Not that Porsche has sympathy for some mafia heir, not after they’ve been hounded for years over their uncle’s debt. But it sounds like they’ll pay him well and what’s one more job on top of what he already has?
Kim slides a folder out to him and Porsche opens it. He quickly scans through until he’s gaping at the amount being offered to him.
“A million baht?! Per month?!”
Kim gives him a raised eyebrow for his shriek. “Because you’ll be privy to a lot of our internal dialogue for the next three months and we would hate for it to leak out. Especially since you’ll be on site the entire time. Is that not enough to guarantee your silence? Or should we have a little chat with Porchay as well?”
It’s Porsche’s turn to hiss. “Leave my little brother out of it.” And, 3 months? He really needs to read over the contract in detail.
Three months of being with Kinn Theerapanyakul as a “personal consultant,” whatever that means. Probably some legalese to make it less suspicious. Sworn to secrecy blah blah can’t leave the compound- wait-
“Wait, I can’t leave at all? What about Porchay?”
Before Kim can sneer out some snarky response, Tankhun smoothly interjects. “We could certainly have him at the compound as well, it would be no problem.”
Porsche does the math. Having Chay here would definitely put him out of reach from the loan sharks and closer to his university. “Yes. Please.”
“Meanwhile, you will do everything in your power to help Kinn get back to normal, even if it means indulging in his little fantasy world where you’re the king.”
Tankhun gives him a rather sharp look and Porsche wonders what it was that put him out of the running for mafia heir. But all the same, he nods in his agreement, taking the stupidly fancy and expensive pen to sign away his life for the next few months.
Everyone has severely underestimated the amount of pull that Porsche has on Kinn.
Only Chan, Tankhun, Kim, and Big are aware of the contract. To everyone else, including Kinn, some special consultant will be joining the compound to help with business matters.
Kinn puts Tankhun’s tantrums to shame when he finds out Porsche has been placed in a normal staff room, the same size as the ones issued to the bodyguards. In the bodyguard wing.
Both Kim and Chan vow to themselves that they will never complain about Tankhun again. Chan was the one to inform Kinn that morning that Porsche was moving into the building. He watched as the man he had helped train for decades, become reduced to an excitable ball of energy. “Truly? His Majesty has agreed to join our humble abode?”
Chan wouldn’t use the word “humble” to describe the sprawling hotel complex and adjoining house the Theerapanyakuls own but he nods, nonetheless.
“Will wonders never cease?” Kinn muses.
Chan’s not sure about wonders but he’s almost sure this is about to be a disaster.
Kinn insists on welcoming Porsche personally and both Big and Chan help convince him that he should wait in his rooms instead of the lobby. Kinn continues to protest that he could not possibly be so rude, wringing his hands and pacing in his room, until Tankhun saves the day by suggesting a feast be set up in the garden to welcome the so-called king.
And Kim is absolutely not lingering. He just wants to make sure that this Porsche character isn’t dangerous and that, some day soon, Kinn is going to step up to be the heir he’s meant to be. And that the burden won’t fall on his own damn shoulders.
Normally, Kinn would be seated at the head of the table. Normally.
Instead, he’s dragged out some ridiculously posh winged chair that Kim didn’t even know they owned and continues to peek anxiously around the corner until Tankhun grips his hand in solidarity. Kinn squeezes it back, a nervous smile on his lips.
Porsche has “liability” written all over him. An unknown. Kim is determined to analyze and investigate the man to see if he’s used some sort of witchcraft over his brother.
“Oh!” Kinn practically squeaks and Kim grimaces. “Your Majesty, I hope the journey did not tax you enti-” Kinn paused. “Your clothes-” and there is an expression of dismay and sadness in his older brother that Kim can’t stand.
Porsche has a bag casually slung across his chest, wearing a white tee that’s seen better days, as well as a pair of frayed jeans and Converse sneakers.
To Porsche’s credit, he must have looked up a few things because he answers Kinn easily. “At ease, my General. I um… I dress down when I’m with civilians?”
“Ah,” Kinn murmured. “Of course. You have always been known for your magnanimous actions, why would it change now?”
Kinn waits for Porsche to sit and then for his gesture, which, after a beat, the man gives to the Theerapanyakuls. Tankhun is unusually subdued but Kim knows his oldest brother is best at playing parts that have been assigned to him.
“I hope everything is to your liking, Your Majesty,” Tankhun begins before Kinn frantically cuts him off.
In a panicked voice, Kinn manages to address Porsche again. “I apologize for my kinsman, Your Majesty, he is not used to royalty and should only speak when addressed-”
“Porsche. When we are not in front of… the court.”
Kim tries to stifle his laugh when he sees Kinn choke at Porsche’s words. He gets a vicious jab to his ribs by Tankhun’s bony elbow for his pains.
“Por- no, Your Majesty, I could not be so rude-”
“Are you disobeying a royal command, General?”
Kim can’t help be suspicious at how easily Porsche is flowing into this farce with Kinn but then again, they’re paying him enough to be prepared for everything Kinn is throwing at him.
Kinn nearly turns purple while he tries to croak out the singular name. “Po- Por- Porsche,” he whispers.
“Good. Now, shall we eat?”
There was minimal chatter while they ate, Kinn having emphasized that silence is royal protocol at mealtime and none of them were up for small talk anyway.
Chan stepped up to escort Porsche to his new room, saying he’ll do the same when Porchay arrives after classes. Tankhun watched them leave but Kim wanted to continue monitoring the two of them and followed.
Of course, Kinn wanted to do it himself and Chan let him lead the way.
And then, the tantrum.
When Kinn pushes the button for his own top floor, Chan gives him a look before pushing the number 28. Kim watches the standoff with an impending sense of doom.
The elevator dings as it reaches the 28th floor, where the bodyguards stay.
“Khun Kinn, this is where Porsche’s rooms are-”
“You will address him as Your Majesty- wait, what? You’ve prepared rooms for his Majesty with the bodyguards-”
Kim can sense the confusion coming from the older man, who has admittedly had the hardest time adjusting to Kinn’s new norm. To Chan, this was simply another employee, and didn’t merit the use of any fancy suites.
“You will rectify this immediately, Chan, clear out my rooms and prepare them for-”
And to Kim’s surprise, once again, Porsche is the one to placate his brother.
“General. Kinn? May I call you Kinn? General is such a mouthful-”
Kinn’s eyes are nearly bulging with the intimacy of being called that by his king and blushing before he stammers out a confirmation. Distracting him was a good tactic, Kim thinks, although he’d give anything to scrub this version of Kinn from his head.
“Kinn, it would be best to keep up appearances in this world, no? I would hate for you to give up your own rooms. How about we compromise and I get a set of rooms closest to yours?” Porsche snuck a look at Chan, then Kim. Kim is begrudgingly sort of impressed with how Porsche is handling Kinn. Still. It doesn’t get rid of his suspicions about the former bartender, pretend king.
It’s just one fucking crisis after another and Kim cannot wait until Kinn’s brain goes online and back to mafia heir again.
Kinn must have seen the docket on Porsche’s background after the watch incident. He had to. Otherwise, there’s no logical explanation for why Porchay Kittisawasd is also a part of Kinn’s delusions. How the hell is this kid a part of the royal family, in Kinn’s mind?
Kim had assumed that it was only Porsche that Kinn cared about.
That Porchay’s arrival had mostly been forgotten for Kinn, especially after his brain short circuited with having to call his precious king by his given name, Porsche.
Kim is wrong, on both counts.
“Your Royal Highness! Prince Porchay!” Kinn calls after the young boy walking towards the lobby, while running to catch up to him. Kim really hates jogging in his boots but he wants to prevent whatever nightmare interaction this is going to be.
The boy looks back at them with a curious interest and oh, that school picture really did not do him justice. There’s a startled jolt of recognition in his face when he stares back at Kim and Kim shakes his head to ignore him. He can smell a WiK fan when he sees one.
“Ah,” the boy, young man, really, smiles sheepishly as he struggles to address Kinn, “I was looking for my brother-?”
“Of course, Prince Porchay. He has retired to his rooms for the day and my younger brother will escort you to them.”
“I was busy-”
“Khimhant, it would behoove you to make the acquaintance of his Royal Highness, whom you will be protecting in the future-”
Kim does not squawk at this new implication and can only hope that Kinn wakes the fuck up soon from this nonsense.
Porsche sighs, letting his long legs dangle over the plush comforter of the biggest bed he’s been on in his life.
It hasn’t been a full 24 hours of being at the Theerapanyakul compound but he’s already wondering how he fits into this.
Chay helped him research for the role, what little he could reveal without negating the terms of the very strict agreement.
But it threw him off to see Kinn be so… serious about it.
The man had been insufferable, weeks ago. Arrogant. Cocky. 100% mafia heir.
The second time he’d seen the man, it was as if an entirely new personality took over. Besides the weird way he was addressing Porsche as “Your Majesty,” there was a soft look of reverence and something else in his eyes.
He’s not going to analyze it. This whole situation is a headache, anyways.
Hopefully, in a few weeks, Kinn will get over him, and go back to being the domineering presence he was when they first met.
And Porsche will continue to ignore the niggling feeling at the back of his head that he’s missing something.
The entire household adjusts to Porsche’s presence as well as the odd, deferential treatment Kinn gives him.
Meals are sent up to Porsche and Porchay, just like they are to Kinn and the other Theerapanyakul sons. The staff is on edge with the semi-permanent presence of Kim, who they haven’t had to deal with for years.
Fortunately, Porsche and Porchay are discreet and mostly welcome guests. Porsche hasn’t seen much of Kinn, ever since he told the “General” to stop hovering around him like a nervous maid and to do his job.
Tankhun is happy that Kim has moved back in, although he keeps saying it’s only a temporary thing.
There was a slight fuss when Porsche insisted on taking his meals with the bodyguards, but he compromised on eating with Kinn instead. Partly because Big had begged him to reconsider, especially when Kinn started coming down to take his meals with them, and the bodyguards kept getting indigestion from having to eat with the big boss.
But mostly because Chan had pulled him aside to lob his concerns about Kinn not eating well on most days.
“Don’t you send him the same meals you do with me?”
“Khun Kinn, he-” Chan paused, debating how much he should share with the outsider.
Porsche shrugged at the man. “NDA, remember? Signed the whole secrecy clause at risk of my life?”
Chan’s mouth set briefly in a thin line of resolve before continuing. “Ever since Khun Korn’s death a few months ago, Khun Kinn has been determined to legitimize a large part of the businesses. And during his two week coma, a lot of progress was undone so he has tried his best to make up for it, even with your presence here-”
“Oh. Is that why he has dark circles and looks a bit more gaunt than he did before?”
Chan nodded. “We try, between myself and the staff that are close to him, as well as Khun Nu and even Khun Kim. But he’s quite stubborn and…”
“He listens to me the most,” Porsche finished for him. The man reluctantly agreed.
“Well. I’ll do my best, like I told you on my first day, but I make no guarantees.”
And Porsche knew there would be a small commotion when Kinn saw him holding the meal tray instead of letting someone else hold it but, honestly, the man’s reactions amused him.
He knocked on the door of Kinn’s suite, cheerfully anticipating the look on Kinn’s face.
“Come in,” Kinn called out and Porsche was reminded of how imperious the other man sounded, to everyone else except him.
Porsche opened the door and walked in towards the office, where Kinn was bent over a stack of papers on his desk, wearing glasses and a rather severe frown.
Porsche cleared his throat. “Ahem.”
Without looking up, Kinn gestured at the table in the middle of the room. “Leave the meal here, please. I’m not done with these papers yet.”
“So, Chan was right.”
Kinn nearly knocks the papers off the desk in his haste to stand at attention. “Your Maj- er, Porsche- you’re- that was incredibly rude and brash and-”
“Kinn,” Porsche interrupted gently. “It’s okay to make mistakes. You didn’t know it was me.”
There’s a flush on the paler man’s face and Porsche is drawn to him but reminds himself he’s here on contract, for only a few months.
Kinn busies himself with clearing the small coffee table, trying to drag over his executive chair from the desk and it’s terribly endearing the way he’s bustling about with his glasses still on.
Porsche plops himself on the floor after setting the tray down on the now clear table. “Please. General. Kinn, sit. Eat with me.”
There are two steaming bowls of tom yum goong awaiting them and Porsche practically inhales his. While Kinn looks initially uncomfortable, whether at sitting on the floor in his slacks or subjecting Porsche to the same, he’s not sure but Porsche sneaks a few glances to check if he’s eating as well.
He’s busy spooning up the last few bites when Kinn quietly says, “That was always your favorite meal.”
“Was it?”
The somewhat believable story that Porsche, Tankhun, and Kim came up with is that Porsche was having some memory problems of his own. The few times Porsche has been able to talk like this with Kinn, privately, Kinn has taken it upon himself to reminisce over their shared memories.
“We would make sure to have the ingredients during our campaigns, and especially after a hard battle, you would reward us with a hearty meal of tom yum.”
It sounds about right to Porsche, if he had an army. “Mm,” he says.
“But the best one was when-” Kinn stops.
“...when-?” Porsche tries to prompt him. He’s noticed Kinn gets like this sometimes, about to launch into a story about their so-called past and his curiosity gets to him, every single time.
“Ah. Well… it’s simply evidence of how honorable your nature was, as king, truly.”
“Kinn-” Porsche wheedles. “Remind me how honorable and kingly I am? Since I don’t remember?”
“I was… ill. And had collapsed while giving you a report from our latest campaign against the Northern tribes. When I came to, you had- you had brought a bowl of tom yum goong to me, like this and… and made sure I ate it all. Like today.”
“I sat and watched you eat? Not sure that’s honorable, it sounds creepy to me.” Porsche is somewhat joking because he’s having doubts that, in whatever royal world exists, a king wouldn’t bring a general a bowl of soup because he’s sick. No matter how prized and valuable that general was. It almost sounds like something he would do for a partner? Porsche feels bad for Kinn, once again, because how lonely was Kinn to make up this fantasy in his head after one meeting with him?
“No, you… you fed me.” Kinn’s soft voice interrupts his thoughts. Oh. Well. That certainly… is interesting.
“Good for you! I mean, good for me. I’m sure you were a general that deserved that. And if you keep skipping your meals, you’re going to get sick and then I’d have to-”
Shit. Porsche almost suggested that he’d feed the man again and he’s supposed to be here to help Kinn regain his sanity somehow, not feed directly into his fantasies. Literally.
He flees the room with the excuse of checking on Chay.