Chapter Text
Chan was always a man of routine.
Wake up with the sun, make the bed, shower, breakfast, report for duty. It was a habit drilled into him from his military days, and he quietly enjoyed the sense of normalcy which often felt so out of place when working for the Theerapanyakuls.
This practice remained regardless of where he was stationed for duty: this month was in Khon Kaen, where Kinn had been working to clean up the mess that was the minor family. After Vegas’s betrayal with Tawan, Korn had been sending Kinn on more and more assignments out of province to ensure the loyalty of their allies. He had been instructed to take the best of the best with him, which of course included Chan and Porsche, as well as Pete, Arm, and… Big.
Chan wasn’t sure what he’d call his feelings towards Big—he could still remember Big as the teenager who had joined the major family to get away from his father, knees scraped and lip bloody. He had never offered more information about his background than was necessary, but Chan wasn’t stupid; he recognized the ferocity in every punch, the target practices which were a bit too thorough to not be imagining someone standing in front of the target. How could he not? He saw the same thing whenever he looked in a mirror.
He had watched with pride as Big cleared every challenge placed before him, surpassed every person who sneered about him when they thought he couldn’t hear. He had made it through the ranks remarkably fast, securing his place as Kinn’s bodyguard before he turned 23. And Chan continued to watch as Big did his duties perfectly, despite his poorly hidden feelings towards Kinn.
He had watched as Porsche landed ungracefully in the major family’s ranks, managing to annoy anyone in a position of authority in an impressively short amount of time. Which of course drew Kinn’s fascination, despite the unwavering loyalty of those around him. Big was smart enough to keep his feelings inside, but Chan knew Big well enough to see the subtle frown that stole over his face whenever Kinn and Porsche were being affectionate, how he held his hands together so nobody could see them shaking faintly. And although he’d never say it out loud, Kinn’s indifference towards Big’s feelings got under Chan’s skin: what did Porsche have that Big didn’t? What could Porsche do that Big couldn’t do better?
No, Chan wasn’t sure what he’d call his feelings towards Big. But hearing that Big was in the hospital fighting for his life after Tawan had tried to murder him had been one of the worst days in Chan’s life. He had visited Big every day as he recovered; reading to him when he was unconscious, offering him quiet company when he was finally awake.
Something about Big had changed since his time in the hospital, though; he had grown even more withdrawn, only speaking when spoken to and not even bothering to nag Porsche when he slipped up. Chan had noticed how Big had started carrying himself like the weight of the world was on his shoulders; had seen the bags which grew more prominent under Big’s eyes with each passing day. Even now, he could see Big struggling to stay focused, his eyes almost closing in the quiet of the hallway as they waited for Kinn to finish yet another meeting.
“Big.”
Chan didn’t speak loudly, but the word shot through the silence like a gun. Big flinched, his eyes flickering to Chan’s as his pose changed back to full attention.
“Sir?”
Even Big’s voice sounded drained; tension laced his words, making him sound stilted, wrong .
“Come see me after your shift.”
Big’s expression was one of tired resignation, and he nodded wearily. Arm and Pete exchanged a look, and Chan had to hold himself back from snapping a reprimand at the two of them.
The meeting ended shortly after, and Chan returned to his room once he had been dismissed. Big’s shift wasn’t scheduled to be done for another hour and Chan spent the time pacing, Big’s tired voice playing on loop in his head.
A quiet knock pulled Chan from his thoughts, and he quickly walked to the door. Big stood in the hallway hesitantly, looking as though he was mentally prepared for a beatdown. Chan stood back so Big could come in, and Big paused in the doorway apprehensively before he steeled himself and entered the room. Chan closed the door behind them, wincing at the sharp sound the door made as it closed.
He turned to find Big watching him, and his concern only grew having the other man so close to him. While he had seen Big on duty almost daily, they hadn’t been so close to one another since the hospital, which only highlighted how prominent Big’s cheekbones had become; how exhausted he looked.
Before Chan could say anything, Big spoke, his words tumbling out in a rush.
“I know what you’re going to say, Sir. I’ve been sloppy in my duties lately, but I assure you I’d never let anything happen to Khun Kinn. I-I’m just tired; I haven’t been sleeping well lately, but I swear it won’t affect my performance. I’ll do better, I promise.”
He hung his head, waiting for the lecture.
“When was the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”
Big’s head jerked up, surprise colouring his expression. “Sir…?”
Chan sighed. “Answer the question, please.”
Big thought to himself for a moment. “I think it’s been… I can’t remember,” he confessed, embarrassment in his voice. “At least a month.”
Chan had to struggle to keep the shock from his face. A month ? How was Big not dead on his feet?
“Can you take some sort of medicine to help with that?” Chan asked cautiously, trying to figure out a way to help without coming off as overbearing.
Big clenched his jaw, so subtly that someone who didn’t know him well wouldn’t have noticed. But Chan noticed immediately, and knew enough to drop the subject.
“Well, I hope you get a proper sleep soon,” he said stiffly, painfully aware of how awkward he had made the situation. “My door is open should you need anything.”
Big looked surprised but he nodded curtly, his professional persona already being put back on. “Thank you, Sir,” he said impersonally, bowing to Chan before he left the room.
Chan let out an annoyed sound, raking his fingers through his hair. Why did Big make accepting help so difficult?
He slept poorly that night, tossing and turning as images of Big flitted through his mind. Big, who was too stubborn to ask for help when he clearly needed it. Big, whose withdrawn nature made him seem more like a ghost than a man.
Chan woke with a plan in mind, determined to see it through.
But Big wasn’t at breakfast, or at the assignment distribution. They needed to leave for a meeting soon, and Chan saw Kinn’s eyes narrow in disapproval as he reported Big’s absence. He was about to go on a search himself when Big appeared, his suit disheveled and his eyes wild.
Even from a distance Chan could see that Big was obviously wearing the same suit as the day before, that his hair was unwashed and strands were falling limply out of his ponytail. Something sank in Chan’s gut; this was meant to be a highly important meeting, where everyone looked their best as a reflection of the Theerapanyakul name. There was no way Kinn was going to let this go.
“How nice of you to join us, Big,” Kinn said, his voice as sharp as cut glass. “And how nice to see you’ve dressed your best as per my instructions.”
Chan saw the moment Big remembered what day it was: his frantic energy drained away faster than Chan would have thought possible, replaced by an expression of crushing disappointment. Big opened his mouth to apologize, but Kinn wasn’t finished.
“I won’t have you in the meeting room looking like this,” he said icily. “Net, you’ll switch positions with Big—he can stand guard across the street. Chan, I expected you to have better control of your men; I want this dealt with.”
“Yes, Khun,” Chan said instinctively, but Kinn had left before the words were fully out of his mouth.
Chan turned to Big, whose expression had gone from disappointed to one of pointed self loathing.
“Big, you—”
“I’ll switch with Net; I heard Khun Kinn,” Big said in a strained voice, trying and failing to keep his emotions from coming through. Net was a relatively new bodyguard for the family, and this was one of his first missions; to have Big, a trusted member of the family, switch places with him and stand not even outside the room but across the street … it was as depressing as it was humiliating.
But Kinn had made the call himself, so Chan was powerless to refuse. He sighed heavily as they drove off to their destination, and he watched Big take position across the street with a stab of pity.
The meeting was as uneventful as Chan had predicted, and he quickly tuned out the talks of stock prices and contract negotiations. He kept replaying the morning’s events in his head, seeing the light extinguish in Big’s eyes as Kinn reprimanded him. Could Kinn not see that there was something obviously wrong with Big, who had never been late for duty in his life?
Mercifully the meeting only lasted a few hours, and they were soon on their way back to one of the many houses the Theerapanyakuls had around Thailand. This house was significantly smaller than the main family house, but it still housed the bodyguards and Kinn comfortably.
No sooner had Chan finished parking the car than Big had vanished, disappearing into the house with an energy Chan hadn’t seen from him in weeks. Chan couldn’t blame him—he wouldn’t want to hang around other people either if he was in Big’s position. But Kinn had ordered him to deal with the situation, and Chan just saw that as added incentive to find out what was going on with Big.
Despite the relatively small size of the house, Chan struggled to find Big—he wasn’t in the gym, or at the shooting range. The dining room was empty, and when Chan knocked on the door to the room Big was sharing with Pete and Arm, they told him they hadn’t seen Big since the meeting earlier in the day. A flicker of uncertainty flashed through Chan: surely Big wouldn’t be foolish enough to leave the house, not when he knew guards weren’t allowed to leave the grounds without express permission from Kinn.
The answer came to Chan moments later, and he silently cursed himself for his stupidity—he knew exactly where Big would be, and he walked over immediately.
Despite no one living in the house full time, the garden was awash with bright blooms and vibrant colours. The sound of crickets filled the air as the sun began its slow descent, and Chan breathed in the fragrant smell of lemongrass as he walked among the flowers.
There .
The small knot of tension in Chan’s stomach loosened when he saw Big, almost concealed by the stalks of the sunflowers which rose above his head. He was sitting dejectedly at their roots, absentmindedly playing with one of its leaves.
Chan cleared his throat to announce his presence, and Big looked up guiltily, like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He rose as if to stand, but Chan waved the gesture away, watching Big’s expression change to shock as he sat down just outside the patch of sunflowers.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Chan waiting for Big to start speaking.
“How did you find me?” he finally asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
Chan chuckled softly. “One of the first days at the hospital, you asked me what my favourite flower was.”
This was the first time either of them had mentioned Big’s time in the hospital, and Chan watched Big for any negative reaction, prepared to immediately drop the subject at the first sign of discomfort.
“I… don’t remember that?” Big’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t sound upset.
“You were on a lot of pain medication,” Chan said gently, the memory bringing a small smile to his face. “You followed it up by scolding me when I told you I didn’t have one, and then going on a five minute lecture about why you love sunflowers so much.”
Big made an embarrassed noise. Chan grinned, secretly enjoying Big’s reaction.
“Why else do you think I kept bringing you sunflowers until you were discharged?” he continued, and Big covered his eyes.
“I just thought you wanted some colour in the room or something,” he muttered. He wasn’t entirely wrong—the hospital room had been far too white and bare for his taste, so he was more than happy to add some life into the dismal space. But mainly he had loved seeing Big’s eyes light up whenever he brought a fresh bouquet, how it improved his mood and made him more inclined to have a conversation.
“It wasn’t the only reason,” Chan responded. “So I figured it would be a fair assumption that you’d be out here, away from everyone else.”
Big sighed. “And now is the part where I’m punished for this morning.”
“That depends.” Chan paused. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you?”
Big froze. “Sir?”
“Come on, Big. I’ve known you for years, I can tell that there’s something wrong. You look like you’re rehearsing for your own funeral.”
Chan winced as soon as the words left his mouth, but Big didn’t seem to notice. He just looked up at the flowers, clearly thinking of what to say.
“You’ll think it’s stupid,” he warned.
Nothing about you is stupid , Chan wanted to say.
“I won’t know until you tell me,” is what he settled on.
“Arm snores.”
Chan’s brain stalled. “Arm… snores?” he repeated.
Big nodded. “Loudly.”
Of all the things Big could have said, Chan was not accounting for that.
“Then why isn’t Pete complaining?” he asked, trying to put the puzzle together but still coming up short.
Big shrugged. “Pete’s a heavy sleeper,” he offered. “I’ve had my own room since the”—he paused—“hospital, so I’ve never had to deal with this before. I guess I’m still getting used to it.”
Chan looked at Big searchingly, but Big avoided his eyes, pretending to focus on the sunflowers again. There was no chance Big was telling the whole truth—he’d been looking tired since before they went to Khon Kaen; but Chan didn’t want to press, in case it upset Big further.
“And that’s it?” he asked cautiously.
Big nodded again. “That’s it.”
Chan sighed to himself. It was obvious Big was still hiding something, but at least he could deal with the problem at hand.
“Come on,” he said, getting to his feet and holding out his hand. Big took it hesitatingly and Chan pulled him to his feet, indicating that Big should follow him as he made his way back inside.
Their walk through the house was silent, but Chan saw a muscle twitch in Big’s jaw as they walked past the dining room and saw Kinn laughing with Porsche and the other guards. Chan steered them away from the room, leading Big back to Chan’s own room and indicating for Big to close the door behind him. Big obliged, looking confused, turning back to find Chan watching him from the center of the room.
“I told Khun Kinn I would handle the consequences of today,” he started, and Big bowed his head concededly. He looked like he had mentally accepted a physical punishment, and his body language told Chan he was bracing himself.
Chan crossed the room and rifled through his chest of drawers, finding what he was after quickly enough. He threw them at Big, and Big flinched even as he caught the sweatpants and t-shirt Chan had thrown at him.
“Sir…?” Big’s voice trailed off in confusion.
“So that’s what I’m doing,” Chan continued, as if Big hadn’t spoken. “You are going to shower and have dinner, and then you’re going to sleep in my room tonight.”
Chan could have laughed at the dumbstruck expression on Big’s face, which had turned slightly pink.
“I couldn’t possibly,” Big protested weakly. “I can stay in my room, you don’t need to—”
Chan held up a hand and Big fell silent. “I need all my men in good condition; I won’t hear otherwise. You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the sofa. Now, go shower before Pete uses up all the hot water.”
He made a shooing motion towards the bathroom, and Big slowly obliged, looking bewildered. Chan waited for the shower to start running before he headed to the dining room, which was now thankfully empty. He grabbed two plates of food and some snacks and headed back to his room, setting the coffee table before Big was finished in the bathroom. Big emerged a few minutes later, toweling his hair dry with a fluffy white towel. Chan’s heart did a little flip seeing Big in his clothes but he pushed it aside; he wanted Big to feel comfortable, and it certainly wouldn’t work if he was eyeing up Big. Even if Chan’s sweatpants were hugging his body in all the right places.
Big looked startled to see Chan sitting on the sofa waiting for him, but his expression changed to one of hunger as he took in the small mountain of food Chan had brought back from the dining room.
“I thought you might not want to interact with anyone,” Chan offered in explanation.
Big looked at Chan, an unreadable expression on his face.
“Thanks,” he said, his voice cracking a bit. He quickly cleared his throat, and Chan pretended not to notice his face turning pink again.
They ate in a comfortable silence, Chan secretly watching to make sure Big ate enough. It’s not that he thought Big was too skinny—he privately thought Big was perfect no matter how he looked. But he knew from experience how much easier it was to fall asleep with a full stomach. Watching Big eat filled him with a strange contentment, like it was easing the tension out of his bones.
Once they were finished eating Chan moved the dishes out of the room for the staff to clean up, getting a spare blanket out of his closet on the way back. Big watched him from the sofa, eyes lidded with exhaustion despite his best efforts to appear alert. Chan held back a laugh, dumping the blanket on the sofa and causing Big to look at him curiously.
“The bed is that way.” Chan pointed helpfully.
“I can sleep on the sofa,” Big protested weakly.
Chan shook his head vehemently. “Not going to happen. Do I have to carry you?”
He started towards Big but Big shot off the sofa, looking mortified. “The bed is fine,” he said feebly, and Chan grinned in triumph.
He quickly used the bathroom, changing into sweatpants of his own and brushing his teeth before re-entering the bedroom. Big was lying ramrod straight under the blankets, and Chan could almost feel his discomfort from across the room. Which he could empathize with—he wouldn’t have wanted to share a room with his superior either when he was in Big’s position. But Chan was determined to let Big have a good night’s rest, regardless of what it took.
He lay on the sofa, pulling the blanket over him and adjusting the cushions. It wasn’t the nicest sofa in the world, but he would have slept on the floor if it meant Big would be comfortable.
“Good night, then,” Chan said awkwardly into the darkness.
Big didn’t answer for a while, and Chan was half convinced Big had already fallen asleep, when a soft “Good night” sounded from across the room. Chan smiled, closing his eyes for the night.
A muffled yell woke Chan, and he groped blindly for his gun in the darkness, still half asleep. Had someone broken into the house? Were they under attack?
The person yelled again, and the pain in their voice made the hairs on the back of Chan’s neck stand up. He stood up, willing his eyes to adjust to the dark faster. He could make out the outline of the coffee table and the sofa, and his eyes flicked to the bed when a sharp motion caught his eye.
Big.
The man was thrashing about in the bed, and even as Chan approached, he let out another cry of anguish. Chan reached for the bedside light, but even the light flicking on didn’t wake Big, who curled away from it, shaking. His face was beaded with sweat and he was breathing far quicker than normal, almost panting.
Chan swallowed heavily, fear of his own merging with the cries from Big. He had always been trained to fight off enemies he could see, but how was he supposed to help against unseen ones?
“Big,” he tried softly, but Big didn’t react; he just gripped the sheets tighter, the effort turning his knuckles white.
Chan reached for Big’s hand, taking it and gripping it tightly. “Big,” he said louder, and more insistently. “Come on, you can wake up now.”
A horrible sense of déjà vu came over Chan as he said the words, and it took him a moment to realize he had said the same thing when Big was in the hospital.
He blinked away the memories. He needed to help the Big in front of him, not the one from months ago.
Big whimpered, the sound setting Chan’s teeth on edge. Chan decided enough was enough—if Big was in that much pain in his dreams, he could afford to be ripped out of them. He grasped Big’s shoulder and squeezed, repeating his name urgently as he did so.
A sharp inhale told Chan he had done his job even before Big looked at him, the unguarded pain in his eyes sending a bolt of grief through Chan’s heart. Chan exhaled shakily; he hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath.
“Big, are you okay?” he asked, his voice raw with worry. But already he could see Big trying to rebuild the walls between them, to distance himself mentally from the events that had just happened.
“I’m fine,” Big muttered raggedly, shrugging off Chan’s hand from where it rested on his shoulder. “It’s nothing, really.”
Unexpectedly, anger flared in Chan. How could Big look him right in the eyes and lie? Did Big’s feelings merit such little concern in his own mind?
“It’s not nothing,” Chan said strongly, his tone making Big freeze. “I won’t force you to tell me what’s going on with you, but seeing you in pain like this…” He gestured helplessly. “I want to be able to help you with whatever it is you’re going through.”
Big stayed silent and Chan sighed, months of worried glances and quiet concern whirling through his head.
“I keep going back to the warehouse in my dreams.”
Big’s voice was shaky, but his eyes never left Chan’s, feeling like they were burning a hole in his soul, staring right through his body and seeing all the pieces of him.
“It’s like every day I try to forget, and by the time I manage to calm down it’s time for bed again. If I don’t sleep, I can’t do my job, but if I do sleep…” he trailed off.
“I feel myself getting shot every night,” he whispered miserably. “And there’s no one there to help me; everyone just watches .”
He shuddered, and Chan gripped his hand comfortingly. Now that he had started talking, it was as though he needed to get everything out of his system.
“When the nightmares started I went to the doctor to get some sleeping pills, but those didn’t help, they-they just made it harder to wake up, like I had to feel myself bleed out and die before I could wake up.”
Chan grimaced, his suggestion from the day before repeating hollowly in his head.
“I’ve been trying to take naps instead, thinking maybe if I don’t let myself sleep long enough to dream it’ll help, but”—Big laughed bitterly—“we saw how well that worked yesterday morning, didn’t we?”
Big seemed to be finished his explanation, and he adjusted his position so he was leaning against the headboard of the bed, watching Chan silently.
Chan thought to himself for a few minutes, trying to think of some sort of solution. One came to mind but he hesitated, trying to phrase it in a non suggestive way.
“Do you think it would help if there was someone in bed with you?”
The words escaped Chan before he could really consider them, but luckily Big only looked shocked for a moment before he seriously considered the question.
“I’m not sure,” he said slowly. “It might, but then I’d just be screwing over someone else’s sleep as well as my own, wouldn’t I?”
Chan laughed lightly. “I’m willing to try if you are.”
Big’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t considered Chan would be the person in question.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want—”
“It’s no trouble,” Chan insisted. “We’ll try it for tonight and if it doesn’t work, we’ll have our answer. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Big said quietly.
He moved to the other side of the bed and Chan climbed under the covers, realizing far too late that he didn’t have a shirt. But at this point he felt like they were beyond that, and he reached over to shut the lights off again before rolling over and facing the other side of the bed. Big’s breath tickled his face but Chan didn’t move away; he waited for Big’s breathing to even out to a slow and steady rhythm, lightly tracing the outline of Big’s jaw with his finger. He could do without sleep for one night if it meant he could be sure Big slept well.