Chapter Text
Payu pulls up to the school entrance.
Rain, sitting in the passenger seat, stubbornly remains seated, staring out the windshield with crossed arms and pursed lips.
“Rain,” Payu says firmly. “I’m okay. And you need to go to class. You’ll fall behind.”
Rain pouts. “I don’t like it, P’Payu! I don’t like leaving you when you’re still hurt like this.”
Payu smiles and cups his neck, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “I know, baby. I’m not doing anything strenuous today, just visiting family.”
“Promise? Nothing strenuous?” Rain frowns fiercely at him.
Payu nods indulgently. “Promise.”
Rain stretches across the console and presses a sweet kiss to the bandage on Payu’s cheek. “I’m going then.”
“Mm.” Payu watches him go with love burning hot in his chest.
As soon as Rain disappears into the building, Payu’s smiles fades. He pulls back onto the road with a purpose.
Back at that warehouse, while Rain was distracted, he had requested Chai turn Stop over to his family. A long-time family friend of the Theerapanyakuns, Pakin would have happily taken care of the spoiled brat.
But this is personal.
So instead, he calls his Uncle Kim.
<>
Kim Theerapanyakun sits at his favorite window seat with the perfect view of a sunlit city, absently plucking at the strings of his guitar.
A knock sounds from the door. Without waiting for an answer, the guard politely says, “Young Master Payu is here, Master Kim.”
“Bring him in.” Kim sets his guitar down and stands just as Payu steps in.
Once upon a time, Kim hated the branch family, thought they would only ever be a threat to the main family. His family. Now, years later, with the old guard stepped down and the new in its place, they had reached peace and easy familial affection the likes of which no one would have predicted back then.
When Vegas and Pete adopted Venice, something clicked into place. The whole family would suddenly maim, kill, and die for the little boy. He grew up into an intelligent, disciplined young man. But he didn’t want to be part of the mafia. So with his family’s blessing, he changed his name and went into architecture and mechanics.
Of course, no one ever truly leaves the mafia, but if anyone could appreciate the desire to leave, it was Kim.
Kim smiles and pats his nephew on the shoulder in greeting. “Payu.” Then he takes in the sight of his nephew and stiffens. Kim’s keen eyes immediately assess the damage: bruises, bandages over split skin, and the awkward way he holds himself suggests bruised or broken ribs. “What happened?”
Payu meets his hard stare with his own burning with rage. “I need your help with something.”
“Sit.” Kim gestures and waits for his nephew to gingerly ease into a chair. His hands fist at his sides, nails biting his palm. His nephew may have left the mafia, but he had been trained to fight and defend himself from the moment he could walk on his own. Whatever put him in this state must have been bad.
Kim takes his previous seat and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. “Tell me.”
“A baby rich kid challenged me to a race and lost. He didn’t take it well.” Payu’s eyes go furiously dark. “He kidnapped my boyfriend.”
Kim’s eyes narrow. Payu had only seriously dated once, and it had ended in disaster. And that was years ago.
Payu meets his eyes and says clearly, “Uncle Kim. He’s my Porchay.”
Kim straightens in his seat. His thoughts drift to an abandoned warehouse, to a slight figure slumped against concrete and old barrels, to a gun smoking hot in his hand, and fear for someone else pounding against his ribcage. For Porchay, he had returned to the mafia.
“What do you need?”
Payu smiles a humorless smile. “Pakin has him. I want him to hurt and then I want him to disappear.”
Kim reclines into the couch and smiles in dangerous satisfaction. “I can do that.”
<>
Days later, Payu has Rain cuddled into his side on his couch. Payu scrolls through his phone, and Rain absently flicks through one of the superbike magazines from the coffee table.
Suddenly, Rain looks up at him. “P’Payu?”
“Hm?”
“What do you think P’Chai and P’Pakin did with Stop?”
Payu stills and looks down at his sweet boyfriend. Does he want Rain to know? Does Rain want to know?
As if he could read his mind, Rain says, “I know they weren’t just going to let him go.”
Payu hesitates still. This is why he’d wanted Rain to stay away from the races in the first place. It was too dangerous, too unpredictable. And Rain was so good. Too good for the likes of a mafia brat.
“P’Payu.”
Rain looks at him with an almost uncharacteristic calmness, meeting his gaze steady and aware.
“He’s gone. For good,” Payu responds finally, quietly.
Rain nods seriously. “Okay.”
And then he goes back to flipping through the magazine.
Payu breathes the smallest laugh and presses a hard kiss to Rain’s head. He was too good, but Payu would never, never give him up.
His phone dings.
It’s done.
He hums and presses another kiss to Rain’s head before he dismisses the notification.
Good riddance.