Chapter Text
Porsche wasn’t an unsocial creature. He was a bartender for chrissakes! But two weeks into being dragged into this farcical moon position and he was desperate for even an hour alone.
His classes had equally ramped up, professors no longer taking it easy on the incoming students, making Porsche regret his desire to get a business degree of any kind. Beach bars were overrated in his opinion, he was doing completely fine just being a bartender, who even needs a degree these days, business skills were developed more on-the-job than in a classroom anyway!
Porsche was more of a doer than a thinker, and all this sitting looking at spreadsheets and forming 3-point business plans for ideas that would never come to fruition, frustrated him.
He knew it was helpful, it was necessary, it would pay off in the long run, it was all the things!
But that didn’t mean he didn’t look at the huge stack of incredibly overpriced marketing and business ethics textbooks stacked across the desk before him and wished they would spontaneously combust and save him from another night of cramped typing and trying to prove stupid concepts he barely understood.
As he slumped back in the rolling wingback chair, axis creaking, he stretched as far back as he could, hoping to get some circulation going and jog the tired little brain cells currently littering the floor of his brain, withered and useless. He had sequestered himself in one of the little off-shoot offices that littered the main floor for the living spaces, Kinn seemingly unable to exist without the space to take a call or a meeting at the drop of a hat being in arm’s reach at all times.
It made trying to find which stupid conference room or office Kinn had holed up in on any particular day a very boring version of hide and seek. Porsche sometimes longed for his old home, with its airy rooms of a very limited number . When he and Kinn had started dating and he had still lived there permanently, he had relished having those infrequent nights-in with Kinn and Porchay, bundled on a sofa, limbs overlapping, tv humming in the foreground.
Porchay still stayed at their house frequently, the route shorter to his university’s satellite music studios. Of course, Kim had been more than accommodating in offering to ferry Chay wherever he wanted and offering the use of his own private music studio as an alternative. Chay had been taking shameless advantage of the first and was still considering the latter.
Both of them found the sheer amount of useless rooms on every floor of the compound, just to fill up space, ridiculous. Chay had taken to naming random ones and giving them extremely niche purposes. The latest had been renamed ‘The Azure Room’ and repurposed as a display room for all of Kim’s blue guitars.
Just the blue ones. Fucking rich people.
Porsche had made one of the smaller offices his official study room, mostly by throwing all his hateful, hefty textbooks and some stacks of notepaper for when he didn’t want to lug his laptop all the way to campus. It was near to his and Kinn’s room was the reason mostly, and had a lovely west-facing window for the sunsets, where he could peacefully study and actually watch the sun go down on his freetime and sanity.
Recently Kinn had taken to using the connecting office as his satellite office, storing temporary files and using it for short calls when he was away from his main office on the lower floor. Porsche did not find it cute at all. Not even a little.
He hadn’t had to do much lugging of his old wheezer of a laptop recently; his overheated relic of a taped up computer had been sneakily replaced by Kinn one day, everything copied over to a sleek sheet of a model that Porsche felt he could fold in two with one hand, but apparently was quite sturdy.
It was open before him now, cool light washing over him and causing the strain in the back of Porsche’s eyes to twist at the edges.
He was supposed to be finishing the final draft of a short-term cost analysis of a fictional bakery, with an attached justification complete with referencing. Disgusting.
He could have been done with this yesterday if he hadn’t had to have been chained in an empty classroom on campus, barely helping organise yet another social event for their year. Porsche didn’t know how these people had so much time to go to all these socials, he barely had time to even plan them.
He had had several boxes filled with streamers and decorations lurking ominously in the corner of his ‘study’, under his reluctant custody until the party on Friday where he was also in charge of the rest of the bulk of decorations being brought by other long-suffering underlings equally shanghaied into organising this event. Forced to plan endless mixers of variously vacuous themes and titles when he would have much rather been hanging out with his own friends, who attended Thammasat University rather than the more prestigious and importantly more expensive Chulalongkorn Porsche had been able to get into. Porsche was just happy the campuses for both were relatively close and they could meet up midway fairly regularly outside of class. At least they had before Porsche had become a committee puppet.
Porsche did admit that despite the despots and social addicts that seemed to populate the student events committee for their year, there were times where Porsche had been having fun.
The girl that had foisted this burden on him, Spring, was pretty fun; Porsche could always appreciate a girl who knew what she wanted and suffered no fools getting it. He just had no idea why what she wanted was to torture him with structured ‘fun’ and make him responsible for the continued social amusement of their class for the foreseeable future. The guy she was always with, Tack, or Tick, Knock? Some name with a staccato ‘kuh’ end to it, seemed a bit up himself and artificially casual, one of those people who break their spine trying to slouch into every chair arm so you know how relaxed and laid back they are, the effort in being so casual taking up so much of their focus they usually forget how to have any fun.
Porsche could appreciate a good front, but he also hated people who had no idea how to be real with anyone, especially when he was stuck hanging out with them. Porsche had never liked having to accommodate people he didn’t care about. He was pretty quick to drop most of his friends when he had to take care of Porchay fulltime, when their uncle’s secret little gambling debts got a little less secret and a lot less little. Prior to Kinn he had never been in a relationship longer than it took to get to the bar alley and back. He knew sometimes that came off as him being an arsehole, but Porsche had too little time in his life as it was, and especially now that he had his own time back, some freedom to do as he pleased, he wasn’t looking to waste it.
He wanted to be around people who he liked and made him happy, like his friends, Yok, his baby Chay, his Kinn. He wanted to spend some of his hard earned money now that the debts had cleared and they could live like regular people.
Generally, he wanted be as youthful and feckless as he couldn’t have been when all the debts and shitty jobs and caring for Chay had weighed him down like a millstone, half the time just grinding against the weight pulling him to the dirt, waiting out each bad day or shitty hour, getting through that each little suffering moment just to get to the next one.
Porsche edited his concluding paragraphs a little more, trying to make them a little less crappy. He heard the quiet swish of the door opening, and soft footsteps making their way towards where he was huddled around his laptop. Light notes of sandalwood and white tea wafted to him, the scent immediately hooked around his naval, both comforting and arousing in equal measure.
He looked up and saw Kinn’s pale face. Fuck suffering, and fuck this essay, he thought, scanning through his last paragraph barely taking it in now that something really worthy of his attention had appeared. He had time tomorrow morning to tidy the last rough edges before submitting it.
Standing up and closing the laptop without even a glance, Porsche moved forward and circled his arms round Kinn, sighing softly into his chest and feeling the warmth. Much better.
_______
Korn loved being a senior. His first year he had been terrified, utterly uncomfortable with the sudden changes that came with going to university. He had moved from a smaller town all the way to central Bangkok, he had left all his old friends, his family, he had picked a degree he had no clue if he was going to be any good at besides the maths. He had felt like an utter freak amongst all these other people that seemed so motivated, so cool, who were totally at ease already and completely prepared to face the future.
He thought he was great at making friends, he had never had a problem in his small school, but his first few weeks all the newness had crushed him a little; he was so busy trying to acclimate he had shrunk into himself, trying not to take any more changes. He felt parochial and outdated with every step he took across Bangkok’s baking streets.
Even the climate was out to get him, he was used to the heat of Thailand, but his town was in the North and leafy; the harsh tarmac and multitude of lurching skyscrapers blocked any straggling breeze and reflected any stray ray of sun, rebounding it until Korn felt he was being purposefully cooked, a country frog being boiled over and over until he toughened up or croaked.
His senior had noticed his initial struggles, his utter blank-faced terror of sinking not swimming, and had been a godsend. One senior in particular, Cherry, had made sure he wasn’t drowning in work or escaping via partying, even when he was drunkenly calling her a ‘stuck-up buzzkill’ for tracking him down and ordering him back to his dorm. His roommate Karim had thought she must have liked him to go so far for a random junior in her faculty, but Cherry had just been that caring. She had told him this was what her senior had done for her, and she was just passing on the legacy. Korn felt honoured, considering that Cherry’s senior had been a campus legend, and Cherry herself was her faculty’s moon her first year.
Korn was determined to continue the legacy and try to be half the senior she had been. Korn was currently handing out bottles of water to all the volunteers (and voluntolds) who had turned up early to set up the last big mixer they were having before exam time loomed and most students would - hopefully - be studying for most of their waking hours. He was proud that this year’s juniors seemed to be a real friendly and social bunch, and a lot of them were more than willing to lend a helping hand.
“Well where is he? He was supposed to be here with the main banner 40 minutes ago!”
Well, most of them were. Just from the long-suffering frustration coming from Nong Pond’s voice, Korn could tell he was talking about their most enigmatic and frankly confusing junior, Nong Porsche.
Korn hadn’t paid much attention to Porsche, as he hadn’t seemed like he needed a guiding hand or shoulder to cry on. Despite his stellar looks Porsche had seemed determined to fade into the background as much as possible, perfunctorily attending events before (sometimes literally) running out. He never spent enough time on campus to become a familiar face, even though Korn could tell some of the juniors wanted that to change.
The only one who had managed to pin him down had been Spring, who didn’t really pin him down as much as entrap him in a role where he had to turn up. To his credit he hadn’t thrown a strop over it, but unfortunately for Spring being named faculty moon didn’t seem to be prying open his social cocoon any more than all the other mandatory social and group bonding events had done.
Porsche came, painted banners, ran for drinks and snacks, set up tables, stayed for approximately 15 minutes of any event, then bolted, the rubber marks of his frankly scary looking motorbike leaving a trail behind him.
There was one time that Porsche stayed for a whole half hour, and Spring and various others looked practically ecstatic. Right up until Porsche had checked his phone and waved goodbye vaguely to the room, calling laconically to Spring that he would pick up the forms they had talked about at the office tomorrow, as his ride was here. Turns out his bike was in for repairs so he had been forced to wait for a lift.
Spring seemed undeterred, and frankly Korn was confused as to the source of her enthusiasm. Some of his other seniors were definitely less than enthused by Porsche’s attitude, catty comments being thrown more frequently as time went on and Porsche continued to … be Porsche. Korn empathised with Spring’s efforts to include Porsche, however he felt himself siding more and more with his seniors with every event that Porsche seemed to care less and less about.
He resolved to text Cherry about this; she always had great insight, and trying to resolve ‘The Porsche Situation’ needed a deft hand.
Pond had been huffing up and down the length of the corridor to the restaurant’s entrance, kicking up the gravel that lay between the large paving stones marking the path. Korn felt for Pond’s frustration, as this restaurant had been a long standing partner with their faculty, allowing them to host various small events at a reduced price to help them out. Putting up the decorations late meant starting the event late, which meant leaving late, which meant closing late for the restaurant, which meant bad feelings could arise and risk jeopardising an important relationship cultivated and maintained by multiple classes of seniors.
The sound of a motorbike’s throttle was a blinding relief, and even Pond’s shoulders relaxed, though his face remained pinched and fuming.
The metallic flick of a kickstand and grind of gravel, along with the shuffle of cardboard heralded Porsche around the corner into their view. Pond thrust out a hand jaggedly in frustration, gesturing wildly for Porsche to hurry up.
“Oh my gods Porsche, where the fuck have you been? I know you don’t give any particular shit about this event or the importance of keeping our relationship with this restaurant and not pissing them the fuck off an ruining all our seniors work, but for the rest of us could you at least not be late? It’s pretty hard to ditch an event that hasn’t started yet, even for your skills.”
Porsche’s head had been turned backwards, looking at something behind him as he had moved toward them, but in the face of Pond’s meltdown he faced forwards and raised both his eyebrows. “Uh, okay? Sorry I’m late, I had to go pick up the banner at the printer’s and there was an accident on the bridge, it was complete gridlock for like an hour.”
He glanced at Pond’ red face and erratic hair, scrunched from being pulled so much, and glanced at Korn.
“He okay?”
Korn felt the screech that Pond let out in his bones. He sighed, motioning for Porsche to come forward quickly. Porsche adjusted the large cardboard box of decorations, with a large banner poking out the top, in his arms and strode forward, skirting around the still fuming Pond until he reached Korn.
“I’ll deal with him, he’s just been a bit frantic trying to get everything ready. Go inside and get everyone to set these up as soon as possible, people are already arriving and we need everything done ASAP.”
He gently clasped Porsche’s shoulder in reassurance, like a good senior should, and as a subconscious gesture to ensure Porsche couldn’t escape or magically disappear with the vital decorations in his grasp. He pushed at him when Porsche didn’t immediately move.
“Go, go, seriously, if you start hanging back here Pond is liable to have another meltdown.”
Porsche glanced dubiously at the red-faced Pond and started walking forward, but looked back down the pathway as if willing someone to appear. When no-one appeared Porsche made a grunt of frustration, and continuing inside he called over his shoulder, “Just, my boyfriend is coming, he had a work call, but, ugh, just make sure he knows where to go and that, just, just tell him to meet me inside yeah?”
Porsche’s big brown eyes pleaded with him to ensure his abruptly existing boyfriend was appropriately directed and he nodded, flapping his hands to hurry Porsche up lest Pond see any form of lollygagging and commit violence.
As Porsche disappeared round the corner, some urgency finally transferring into speed, Pond let out another huff of frustration.
“I am 50% certain he would have been just as late if there was no traffic, just to ruin this.”
Korn raised an eyebrow. He was pretty sure that Porsche would first have to start giving a shit about faculty events for him to even begin to think about sabotaging them.
He gave Pond a commiserating smile. “I know he was late, but he had a good reason and he’s here now. We can put up the decorations in no time and everything will be fine.”
He made eye contact with Pond, who finally stilled. “Hey, thank you. You’ve been doing a great job, you and the whole events team, and it shows. Everyone’s been raving about the cools things you guys have set up, and the seniors are all really impressed.”
Pond had gone bright red in response, ducking his face and flicking his eyes all over Korn’s face, looking for a lie. It was a shame they weren’t making eye contact any more, Pond had quite nice eyes, a soft light brown.
A soft crunch of gravel alerted Korn to someone else coming down the pathway. He turned, this was probably Porsche’s surprise boyfriend who had been delayed outside with a work call. Korn was surprisingly curious about whoever was about to appear, not a lot was known about Porsche, not even his sexuality, and suddenly a whole ass boyfriend was appearing? This would definitely make the event more interesting.
The guy that came round the corner was intimidating to say the least. The visual dictionary definition of a business bro, tall and confident, wearing a flashy suit and slicked hair, shiny watch and polished loafers that probably cost more than Korn’s whole outfit. He was handsome too, clear pale skin, striking dark eyes framed by thick dark eyebrows making for a killer combination. He wasn’t in bad shape either if the fall of his jacket or the slightly strained button of his shirt could attest; though in Korn’s opinion, the guy could stand to use a couple more of them, half his pale chest showing in the yellowing lamplight.
Him and Porsche must make an unbelievably striking couple, Korn thought. Though he also had the impression that Porsche was more the sort of person who would deck guys like this, not dick them down.
He had a cool expression, brow raised arrogantly in inquiry, as if they should have already anticipated his whims and fulfilled them and he wasn’t quite sure what they were doing there clearly not anticipating them.
“Ah, have you seen..?” the guy trailed off shortly, seeming unsure about how to describe Porsche to people who may or may not know who he was.
Korn saved him. “Ah, are you Porsche’s boyfriend? He just went inside with the decorations, we’ve been waiting to set them up so I wanted to get them inside as soon as possible? He should just be in the main area, I can show you if you like?”
The guy gave a faint smile that seemed to relax everything about him; even his shirt buttons seemed less strained. “Yes, we’re sorry about being late, I told Porsche he wouldn’t have time to pick up the banner and me without risking rush hour, but he insisted as ‘I need someone to hold onto the box, and for once in your life you can experience traffic like a regular Thai person and not a gilded prince in an air-conditioned bubble’.”
Pond gave a soft giggle at that and Korn suddenly had a profound realisation that maybe Porsche had taken “Fuck the Rich” as a literal lifestyle rather than just a social mantra.
“Then there was an accident and despite the fact we had to inch along the bridge in this heat, if we had been in a car we would still be there, so I guess he was right.”
Korn heard Kinn mutter under his breath, “This one time.”
The ‘gilded prince’ put his hands together in greeting and gestured to Korn and Pond, who responded in kind. Kinn looked at Korn. “I’m Kinn. Are you one of his seniors? I hope he hasn’t been too much trouble.”
Korn’s eyes widened and he shook his head, even as Pond seemed on the verge of ragging on Porsche to his own boyfriend.
“No, Porsche has been a great help ever since he was made campus moon, done all his duties, everyone likes Porsche.” Korn lied, like a liar. It wasn’t totally untrue, but really a ‘great’ help was probably over exaggerating and it was definitely a stretch to say everyone liked Porsche. Pond for example, who immediately spoke under his breath “You have to be here to cause trouble.”
Kinn unfortunately seemed to have good ears.
“Oh, has he been skipping out on things?”
Kinn had that look on his face every person gets when their partner is about to be in trouble. Crap. Korn shook his head. “Oh no, Porsche has never skipped out on an event, seriously, us seniors wouldn’t stand for that sort of behaviour!”
At Kinn’s raised eyebrow, Korn continued. “But…he may have a habit of, leaving in the middle of things, or nearer the start than the end, or as soon as no-one is looking. But he doesn’t bail at helping out and he’s been great for any heavy lifting!”
Kinn smirked. “Well as happy as I am to know he’s been so artfully used as a workhorse, I had been under the impression he’d been enjoying the spoils of his efforts as well.”
He leaned towards Korn. “Seems his seniors need to keep better track of him.”
Pond bristled at that. “Hey, P’Korn is a great senior!”
Kinn’s smirk lightened. “I’m sure he is kid.” He glanced back at Korn, eyebrows ruffled in curiosity. “P’Korn eh? Last year senior?”
At Korn’s confused nod a satisfied gleam flashed across his face. “That would make you Korn Suwannarat right? N’Cherry was real proud of how well you’ve been doing.”
Korn gaped. “Ah, uh, P’Cherry? You know P’Cherry?”
Kinn laughed. “Of course nong, after all, she was my favourite little junior once upon a time.”
Korn gaped. This was P’Cherry’s beloved senior, one of the most legendary seniors of their whole campus; this was the guy so outstanding his nickname was ‘The Golden Tiger’. People didn’t even have nicknames like that outside hokey martial arts films!
Wait. Golden tiger, lauded senior P’Kinn Theerapanyakul, was Porsche’s boyfriend? Just-how? Korn’s brain disconnected as he tried to thread the sequence of events that lead up to Porsche, his unsocial and flighty junior, being the boyfriend of not only one of the most praised and famous seniors of their university, but also a semi-famous businessman who came from a social dynasty that even a country bumpkin like Korn had heard about during his time in Bangkok.
Korn had a feeling, as Kinn moved past them to go find his boyfriend, that this event would be something else, for good or for bad.