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Amber liquid sits untouched in a short glass where it will most likely remain for the rest of the night. This is just somewhere to be, something to do aside from wallowing (which was really a little too optimistic when Big knows himself, because he’s still wallowing just with the addition of a glass of whiskey).
The day started off well enough, Porsche was no longer watching over Kinn and was passed over to Tankhun instead. Big still had his arm sling on until a few hours ago so he wasn’t placed back with Kinn yet, but as long as Porsche wasn’t either, Big could live with it. He was cool. That was until he got word that Kinn headed out after Tankhun to the bar the eldest has taken a liking to.
Big wonders if Kinn is drinking, having fun, dancing. Smiling. He doesn’t think he’s seen a genuine smile on Kinn’s face in a long time. Not since Tawan was around, but Big doesn’t want to keep thinking about that manipulative, sneaky traitor for too long. His finger twitches as the urge to actually pick up the glass and take a drink comes and goes. He figures if he started with a sip tonight, he wouldn’t stop. Big wants to be alert and ready for if when he’s put back on Kinn’s detail tomorrow. There’d be no mistakes or fuck ups and Kinn would have a less stressful day thanks to him.
He thinks about what could happen if he was the one at the bar with Kinn. Maybe they could have a real conversation over a couple of drinks and Big could see if Kinn’s face flushes when he isn’t pacing himself. He nudges at his own drink, the glass now reflecting the overhead bar lights in a different angle.
Chan was on his way up to his room, ready to finally end his day when he notices the lights in the bar are still on. The seating area is covered in shadows, light only brushing by the first few tables. Big paints a pretty picture, sitting alone completely glowing in the middle of darkness. Only the beginning of his side profile can be seen from Chan’s angle but the fact that Big is at the bar is enough to assume how he's feeling.
Chan would never tell Big this because it sounds like an insult, but he feels as if Big saves most of his thinking for the end of the day. When the sun his up, when he’s doing his job, Big relies on instinct and protecting, which seems to be so engrained in his being. He makes the perfect bodyguard. At night, he flips through his thoughts and emotions that didn’t slip through during the day. Big must be having trouble with them today if he’s even entertaining the idea of drinking.
He gives a quick sigh and makes his way to Big, sliding out the stool beside him. Big startles and relaxes all in the same breath when he sees it’s just Chan.
“What are you doing here?” Chan asks.
Big avoids his stare and gestures towards his untouched drink. “Nothing.”
But he feels Chan’s stare practically burning into his face, so he sighs, turns his body towards Chan, and tries again. “There’s a lot going on.”
“Out here or in there?” Chan taps a finger on Big’s temple and watches as the corner of his lips tick up momentarily.
Sometimes Big feels like Chan knows him too well for his liking. It should be weird for a superior to be the person who might even know him the best, right? Chan isn’t explicitly his friend or anything, they’ve just been around each other a lot. Chan has been around ever since Big became a bodyguard for the Theerapanyakul family. He was the one to train and push him to be up to the standards of being a bodyguard for a mafia boss. He helped him adjust to everything after he was recruited from his position as a bodyguard for the son of a rich family that was involved in much less bloodshed, betrayal, and illegal activities in comparison. While he was hesitant to put himself in this amount of danger, the money was worth it so his family would never have to worry about missing rent or finding ways to stretch food so it could last just a few more days. His mother could retire, and he might even get to do the same early.
“Just stupid things again,” Big admits with a light shake of his head.
When he doesn’t offer anything else, Chan levels Big with another stare, one that says humor me or you’ll be here every night if you don’t work through whatever you’re feeling, and your work will suffer from it. He knows Big would never want to bring attention to his personal matters and Chan isn’t one to dig around and get involved outside of what his job requires but he’s not clueless. Big’s not doing a great of a job hiding it no matter how hard he tries to stay in line. He wears pieces of his heart scattered over his face.
“Fine, it’s just- it is stupid. Feeling things I shouldn’t.” Big averts his eyes, embarrassed to be talking about this. Like a teenager who can't control his emotions.
“Stop saying that,” Chan responded, giving no room for Big to argue. “Feeling things about what?”
Big doesn’t elaborate and still doesn’t meet Chan’s eyes. He brushes his fingers on the glass of his drink again. Chan follows the movement, brings the glass over to himself, and takes a sip before placing it back on the table. He tries again. “For who?”
He watches as pink dusts over the tips of Big’s ears.
“No one. It’s stu-” Big sighs, “It’s pointless. Risky. They could never feel the same and it’s been years anyway.”
Big can’t believe he’s talking about this and with Chan of all people. He hasn’t even mentioned any of this to Ken and was getting used to the idea of keeping it all inside as best as he could. Figures that Chan worked better than alcohol. Big actually trusts him.
Chan takes another sip of the whiskey, letting it burn a path down to his gut. He thinks for a second, wants to choose his words wisely because Big takes them to heart when they’re sincere. He was always good that way even if he was stubborn.
“If it’s been years and there’s really no chance, then what else can you do?”
Big frowns, like he knows what Chan’s implying but it’s nothing he hasn’t considered before. As if he thought a second opinion would give him a new solution that he'd like. “If it was that easy, it would be done already. I can’t exactly get this person out of my life.”
“Putting all your energy into this person in this way and for it to just go to waste? It’s not worth it, not when you don’t get the same in return,” Chan explains. “Find something else to focus on, a hobby, to get your mind off of them? Find something else to love.”
Big startles at that, eyes wide and defensive. “Who said anything about love?”
Chan tilts his head, challenging, “Is it not?”
“It’s- I don’t know. I- what do you know about love? Not like you’re married or anything.” Big immediately regrets it, doesn’t know if it’s a sore topic. He feels a bit of relief at Chan’s short chuckle, even if it’s a little hollow.
“Right.”
Big tests his luck, admittedly curious now. “Why aren’t you? Getting kinda old there.”
“Watch it,” Chan warns with a raise of his eyebrows, then his face relaxes into a real grin on his face like he finds Big’s sudden gall amusing. Truth is, Chan’s long since accepted that his life was really only dedicated to his work. He spent the better part of his life alongside the Theerapanyakuls, working to solidify and keep their place as the top mafia, feared and respected. His life was too dangerous for anyone to want to stay in it. Especially now, when no one his age would invest time into a relationship that could be cut short multiple ways. “Don’t worry about me. We were talking about you and your hopeless crush.”
“Who’s worried?” Big denies, which is a lie because who wouldn’t be curious about Chan? He’s the next person after the heads of the families that the guards like to theorize about. Is he married? Does he have kids or family? Is he going to be alone for the rest of his life? Yeah, the theories could get grim. For the most part, Big doesn’t participate in the gossip, but maybe Chan would feel like sharing.
“How long have you been here and now you’re asking about me?”
“Well- you never asked about me either. All of a sudden, you’re giving me advice. Careful or I might think youre interested,” Big teases, raising a brow.
Normally, Big would never try and joke with Chan so casually like this, he’s basically his boss, but he feels like Chan might give as good as he gets.
And Big’s right because he sees, feels, Chan’s eyes roam down and then up his figure as if he was actually considering it, which is impossible because it’s Chan and it’s Big.
Instead of confirming or denying, Chan takes a slow sip of what can really be called his drink now. Big feels warmth collecting at the tips of his ears. He takes a few quick glances at Chan. He’s handsome, Big can’t pretend he’s never noticed that before. His tan skin, well-kept facial hair, stern expressions. If you’re into all of that and Big can’t say he’s not. It’s the strong, solidness, and dedication when Big thinks about it that interests him the most. He likes competent people, alright?
Big clears his throat. He nods at the drink, “You gonna be good for tomorrow?”
“This is nothing, kid. I can handle myself. Nice of you to worry.”
“I’m not worrying!” Big protests. Why does Chan think he’s worried? “You just- you stole my drink, old man.”
“You weren’t drinking it,” Chan points out. He ignores the ‘old man’ but smiles internally. “I can pour you another if you want.”
“I- no, I wasn’t gonna drink it.”
“You just like torturing yourself then?”
Chan’s noticed Big’s discipline before. He was above all the other bodyguards in his training after being recruited, eager to be the best, and willing to do what it takes to be that. Although, the bits of defiance, of Big standing up for himself and not being afraid to correct Chan tonight were…interesting.
Big huffs a laugh, “Clearly.”
“Come on,” Chan downs the last gulp of whiskey, trying not to wince as it goes down, “time to head up then.”
“Alright, old man. You gotta get your sleep,” Big quips, which earns himself a knuckle on his head giving him a firm push. He takes the glass from Chan, fingertips brushing in the process.
Big disappears for a minute to wash and dry the glass. He feels his heart thump harder when Chan is still waiting for him when he comes back.
They walk to the elevators in silence and surprisingly, it isn’t awkward at all. Talking and joking around(!) with Chan was easier and more pleasant than he thought it would be. His eyes travel over Chan’s features again, taking a closer look this time. Strong nose bridge, cheekbones. His lips…Big’s eyes dart away when he registers that they’re melting into a grin.
Big dares to meet Chan’s eyes, sheepish and blushing about getting caught admiring. Chan finds himself thinking it’s a good look on him.
The elevator comes to the smoothest stop Chan’s ever felt from elevators. Only the finest for the Theerapanyakuls. They step out, walking past the first few doors until they reach Big’s quarters.
When they come to a stop, he turns to Chan. “Um- so, thank you. For the advice and everything. Probably didn’t wanna spend your night listening to my problems.”
“If I didn’t then I wouldn’t have,” Chan replies frankly. Big must believe him because Chan catches a flush creeping its way on his cheeks as he suddenly finds his shoes and the dark granite floor under it very interesting.
“Listen,” Chan continues, and Big does, his head darts up and his eyes are focused, attentive like an eager puppy. “Just because you’ve been stuck in these feelings for so long doesn’t mean you’ll always be.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, eyes softening and then Chan can practically see a spark flit through, “and you were right. Maybe I just gotta find someone else to focus on.”
“I said something, not someone,” Chan corrects, eyebrows raised.
“I mean- well, either could work, right?” Big asks, suggests, looking up through his lashes before looking away.
“Right.” Chan keeps his eyes on Big even if he isn’t meeting them. He isn’t going inside either, so Chan steps closer, closer, until Big’s pressed against the door and finally returns the same dark, heady stare.
It’s unexpected, Chan feeling Big surge forward right as he did. Their lips don’t meet softly, delicately. Chan presses forward and hums low in his throat when Big responds, presses back with a quiet whine. He grabs Big’s hips and tugs him closer, swiping across his lips with his tongue and hides his disappointment when Big pulls away.
“Wait,” Big whispers between shallow breaths, “I- Ken’s-“
Right, Ken would probably check soon if the banging and brushing on their door continues. If it continues. Chan considers it for a second and he searches Big’s face. He’s flushed, eyes are dilated, his lips parted and just beginning to get that kissed red color. Big makes a small, pained noise in his throat, like he can tell Chan is reconsidering and wishes he never pulled back, so he could’ve gotten a few more kisses in. A rush of arousal goes straight to his gut.
“Come on.” Chan tugs Big away from the door and starts walking towards his own room.
It’s surprisingly hard to walk forward and not turn around to push Big up against the wall again, tired bodyguards be damned. He gets his door open as fast as he can and is pleased to see that Big did follow him. Chan pulls him in with his hand gripping Big’s tie and the shirt beneath it, no longer neat and perfect.
The door slams shut, and their lips meet as if they’ve been apart for much longer than the thirty seconds it took them to get here, like this could be gone in a second. It’s warm and becomes wet quickly when Big welcomes Chan’s tongue with a brush of his own. They each hurriedly shed their suit jackets and loosen their ties.
Chan nudges Big’s thighs apart and pushes his own between them, satisfied with the moan from Big that he swallows. They back up into the wall, then Big is rutting against his thigh. He can feel his hardness through their pants. Chan’s hands find their way to his hips, helping him grind them harder.
Big nibbles at his bottom lip and Chan practically growls. He wraps his arms around Chan’s neck as he melts into another kiss. It’s slow but heavy. Deep. He wonders where Big learned to do these things with his tongue.
Chan watches as Big’s head falls back, his teeth dig into his bottom lip, his hips move with a mind of their own. And fuck it’s obscene, the way Big looks lost in chasing his orgasm. He wonders if Big will finish in his pants and he throbs at that thought. Chan cups his face and brings a thumb to Big’s lip, brushing over to get him to let it go, so he can hear him.
“Come on, keep going,” Chan coaxes.
Big responds in moans and digs his fingers into Chan’s arms as it builds and builds. “Chan, please.”
“Yeah? You wanna cum?” Chan teases, “all in your pants?”
Now there’s really color on Big’s cheeks. His breathing is quick and heavy and his hips rolling fast but without enough pressure until Chan returns his hands to push him onto his thigh harder. It’s with a quiet whimper, furrowed brows, and Chan’s lips brushing against his that Big cums. He trembles through it in Chan’s hands.
“Fuck,” Big exhales. He feels like he was fucked dumb, eyes clouded and dazed. Like lust has completely melted into him, melted him down.
“Done already, kid?” Chan grins. He pushes hair back from Big’s face, loosened from his ponytail, and decides to take the hair tie off completely which Big doesn’t protest. Hair falls forward, framing his face. Big hopes he doesn’t look too wrecked, although there’s not much hope if he just humped Chan’s thigh until he came.
“Please don’t call me kid, I just got off on your thigh.” Big makes a displeased face, feeling the sticky, wet mess in his pants. “I can, um, help you.”
Chan glances down at the bulge in his pants. He hums, “Yeah? How are you gonna do that?”
Big worries at his lip, looking up through his lashes before standing as steadily as he can with his weak knees. He grabs Chan’s hand, leading him to the couch, face scrunching up with the feeling of slowly drying cum on him. And okay, it’s pretty gross but Big’s got all kinds of hormones and happy going through him, he can’t believe he didn’t seriously consider this before.
When Chan is in front of the couch, Big drops to his knees, unbuttons Chan’s pants, and tugs it down. As if he wasn’t already hard enough, Big rubs his nose and mouths over his clothed dick, like he could get high off his scent there. Chan's never seen something so lewd and felt so hard before.
He sits on the couch after Big tugs his boxer briefs off and gives him a small nudge. Big looks nervous, so he smooths a hand over his hair, trailing down to cup his cheek which Big nuzzles into lightly.
Chan feels something soften in his chest.
Big takes him into his hands, starting with a lick on his head, catching the clear liquid on his tongue before licking a long stripe from the base to the tip of his cock. His gut tightens and he grunts softly when Big focuses on the tip, licking, and kissing at it.
“Get it wet, yeah? Good boy.”
Big whines around him, squirming, and his eyes fluttering before he lets spit slip down Chan’s length. He keeps a steady pace, tongue flattened out, and cheeks hallowed out. He just enjoys it for minute or so before he threads his fingers through Big’s hair, not pulling, just letting it rest there. Big makes another pleased noise slowly picks up his pace, takes him deeper. He feels saliva dripping down to his balls and Big chases it, licking it up before sucking and swirling his tongue around each one. Wet, filthy, sloshing fills his ears. It's joined by his loud groan when Big goes back to bobbing on his cock, takes the last inch of him into his mouth, hitting the back of his throat and gagging. Now, his hand tightens in Big’s hair.
“Fuck- don’t force yourself, okay?” Chan grunts.
Big looks up as best as he can to make eye contact before moving to take all of him again, spit dripping out of the corner of his mouth. The tight, warmth of Big’s mouth gets slicker with each moment and fuck, Chan can’t hold it back anymore. It could have been mere seconds that passed until his palm flattens on the back of Big’s head as he ruts into his mouth, holding him there while moans and he empties himself into his eager mouth.
Big tries his best to swallow it all. When Chan drops his hands from his head, Big pulls back, the last of the cum sitting on his tongue. It almost tastes like nothing if it weren’t for the light bitter, saltiness. Chan locks eyes with him as he swallows, and he’s almost immediately pulled up and onto his lap.
His jaw was just beginning to ache, his lips feel puffy, and they might be bruised, but he doesn’t mind, not when Chan is kissing him deep and slow and appreciative. A thrill goes down his spine and he’s already been half hard when he feels hands untucking his shirt and unbuttoning his pants.
Until he remembers that he’s still a mess from his first orgasm.
“Wait,” Big sighs, pulling back and getting a graze of Chan’s teeth on his lip in the process, “can I use your shower? It’s probably not pretty down there after…”
“After you came in your pants,” Chan finished for him, looking very smug.
“Stop with that face,” Big pouts, “yes, that.”
“Mm," Chan hums, appreciative, "it was hot.” He kisses down Big’s jaw to his neck.
Big squirms in his lap, a thrill going down his spine. The soft lips, the light graze of his facial hair has his eyelids fluttering, they almost get him.
“No, no,” Big backs away with a quiet laugh, like it was just for them, “I gotta go shower.”
He looks more at ease, happier, more comfortable than he did when he found him earlier and Chan feels a- he feels something about it.
Chan drops his hands from Big after giving his hips one last squeeze. “Alright.”
As Big is headed towards the bathroom, walking in small, awkward steps to avoid feeling his own mess, Chan calls after him, “Do you think you’d need any help?”
Big turns his head, the smallest grin on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”