Chapter Text
Porsche hadn’t been around even more than usual, which Porchay knew meant they were in trouble. When their debts piled up—well, their debts and Uncle’s debts—Porsche tended to disappear. Not because he was running away, but because he would accept any odd job that came their way just to try and scrape together enough money to keep their heads above water.
And when Porsche disappeared, that meant Porchay was able to take on a few extra jobs of his own. Jobs that Porsche would never let him take, always scolding him about his only job being to go to school. But when things were like this, it’s not like Porchay had much of a choice, either.
Porsche was able to keep the house over their heads, but Porchay hadn’t eaten a real meal in two weeks, and his head felt like it was full of cotton. How was he supposed to concentrate in school if he could barely stay awake, much less focused? Of course he wasn’t blaming his brother, not at all. Porsche had much more important things to worry about. But sometimes Porsche forgot that Porchay couldn’t bum meals from work and actually needed to buy food. And Porchay knew he was forgettable. In fact, he kind of took perverse pride in it, in his efforts not to add to the weight on Porsche’s shoulders.
Porchay sighed as his stomach cramped in protest at the enticing smells coming from the street stalls. He’d asked around to see if any of them needed part time help, but no luck. He didn’t really want to go back to his old haunts, but not many nice places would give a high school student a job for the late hours he needed to work.
He dragged his feet as he tiredly pushed open his house gate, fully intending to collapse on the couch. If he went to sleep immediately, he wouldn’t have to sit there and think about how hungry he was. He was pretty sure there were still some noodles left over for breakfast the next morning, but then again, he might have just hallucinated those. “Yo, Chay!” someone called out, and Porchay perked up, glancing down the sidewalk to find Jom hopping off his bike. He offered a polite wai as the other waved it off, glancing over Porchay’s shoulder. “Your brother still not home?”
“No, phi,” Porchay smiled sadly. “Hia’s been busy lately.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jom shrugged. “Anyway, tell him I was looking for him, yeah?”
“Okay,” Porchay nodded. Hesitated. “Umm.”
Jom tilted his head in askance. “What’s up, little Chay?”
“Would you happen to know anyone hiring for part time work, phi?” Chay wondered.
“Porsche is looking for something else?” Jom said. “He knows there’s only twenty four hours in day, right?”
“Umm, I think it’s just in case something else doesn’t work out,” Porchay hedged.
“I’ll ask around,” Jom said, pulling his helmet back over his unruly hair. “See you around, nong.”
Porchay waied again as Jom’s bike roared into the street, no doubt upsetting a few of their uptight neighbors. Porchay liked it, though. It was very Jom.
He slid open the door, taking in the smell of home and dropping his bag carelessly by the door. Porchay stretched a bit, yawning, intending to drop onto the couch. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he might have noticed the debt collectors before he even stepped inside. As it was, he was pushed onto the floor as three heavy-set men towered over him, his right shoulder smarting from where he hit the ground.
They used to only send two big guys to do the threatening, before his brother bulked up. Now they knew better.
Chay cowered, flinching as two of them turned away to continue ransacking their living room. He knew and they knew that they wouldn’t find anything, but it was part of the intimidation show. “You’re late on payments, kid. You really don’t want to be late this time.”
“I’m sorry, phi,” Chay rasped, afraid to move. His best play had always been to be non-threatening. Not that it was an act—Chay really didn’t have any fighting skills to speak of. When Porsche wasn’t there, when Uncle wasn’t there—this was all he could do to survive. “We’ll pay you as soon as we can. Promise.”
A large hand wrenched him up by the arm, and Chay didn’t have time to muffle the surprised whine of pain that escaped him. “Where’s Porsche?” Chay thought he recognized the man, though of course he didn’t know his name. He must have come to collect before.
“I don’t know, phi! Really,” Chay said, wincing as the grip on his arm only turned harsher. A different hand wound itself in his hair, wrenching his head back as Chay whimpered. “He hasn’t been around for a few weeks!” Chay hurriedly squeaked out.
“No need for that,” the first thug holding him by the arm said, pushing away the one who’d pulled his hair. “He’s just a kid.” He looked Chay’s trembling form up and down. “You know we aren’t playing, kid. We need to know where your brother is so we can make sure he hasn’t skipped town.”
“He wouldn’t!” Porchay insisted. “He wouldn’t leave me! He’s just been working so we can pay—”
“Call him,” the man said, letting go of Chay’s arm.
Chay hesitated, mentally calculating whether Porsche would be able to take these guys. But it was an undeniable fact that Chay couldn’t. Swallowing thickly, Chay pulled his old phone from his front pocket and tapped on Porsche’s number from his recent calls list. Of course, his brother didn’t answer. It was likely he’d get a paragraph-long, predominantly emoji apology text in the morning about how he’d been working. “Phi, he’s not—”
The phone was grabbed from Chay’s hand as the man began to speak into Porsche’s voicemail. “You know who this is. We have your brother, and you won’t be getting him back until you’re paid up, interest included. It’s in his best interest that you hurry.”
Chay’s mouth dropped open in shock. What? They had never—this wasn’t—this wasn’t how it worked. They were just supposed to push him around until they got bored, and then they would pay, and then everything would be fine again. Not this. “Phi—” Chay pleaded, nearly jumping out of his skin when his arms were grabbed on both side this time. “Wait, please. We’ll pay! We always do! Phi!”
“Sorry, kid,” the man sighed, watching with utmost apathy as Chay was dragged outside.
“I don’t understand!” Chay said, narrowly avoiding bashing his head against the doorframe of the car he was pushed into. His threadbare sneakers skidded along the pavement, uniform and hair disheveled from the harsh handling.
“Shut up,” one of the others growled, a middle-aged man with scruffy facial hair.
Chay shut up, his insides doing flips as he was squashed between two large bodies in the back seat. His thoughts were racing, palms sweaty, heart pounding. He’d never been in this situation before, and he didn’t know what to do. “Phi—”
His head turned to the side, pulsing with the pain of the harsh slap to the face.
“Shut. Up,” the man repeated.
Chay, stunned, ducked his head into his chest and squeezed his hands together in his lap, fighting the tears that sprung to his eyes. His fight or flight instinct was telling him to run, but he had nowhere to go, so his body reverted to freeze.
“I can’t fuckin’ believe we’re on whore duty,” the man who’d struck him complained. “This is what the great and mighty Theerapanyakul is into? He fucks little kids? You fuckin’ kidding me?”
Chay bit down on his bottom lip so hard it bled, a desperate attempt to not make any noise.
“Boss just wants to get on his good side,” the recognizable man sighed. “Pretty sure he’s grabbed every sweet face he can offer.” His eyes met Chay’s in the rearview mirror. “Just grin and bear it, I’m sure Porsche’ll get the money in no time. If you’re a good boy, maybe he’ll even pay it off for you.”
Chay didn’t know what any of that meant on a deeper level, but he knew it didn’t mean anything good for him. They were taking him somewhere to be—what, a prostitute? Porsche had a lot of friends who did that, but Porchay knew his heart wouldn’t be able to take that line of work, even if he had admittedly thought about it when they got desperate. Not to mention, Porsche would murder him, bring him back to life, and then murder him again. He tried to temper his shaking as the SUV wound through city streets, people walking around like Chay wasn’t kidnapped in the back of a car. The cold blast of the air conditioner wasn’t doing him any favors.
By the increase in neon and decrease in amount of clothing worn by passerby, they were headed into the red light district. It was still early evening, so the crowd was less than it would be in a few hours. Chay’s head swiveled from side to side as he tried to place where they were, clearly annoying the man with the hair trigger temper next to him.
Somehow, the car ride felt like a few seconds and million years all at once.
His body was prepared to run the second he got clear of the door, but the harsh grip on his arm was already back as soon as the warm air hit his face. “Phi,” Porchay begged, tugging fruitlessly against the hold. “Please, phi, we’ll pay you back!”
The man only shook his head as Chay was dragged into the rough-hewn building.
The people inside were even more undressed than the people outside had been, a mix of boys and girls and some people Chay couldn’t tell. They were mostly hanging over older men dressed in cheap suits, smoke choking the air and causing him to hack out a few coughs. It looked like a typical club, but Chay knew it was more than that when he was dragged bodily up a set of metal stairs, shins smarting from knocking against the steps. No one even looked twice at the obvious kidnapping that was happening in front of them.
The man pulling him knocked at a heavy door at the top of the stairs, dragging Chay inside behind him when he was called to enter. An older man sitting behind a desk glanced away from a laptop and up at them, eyes flitting to Chay and scanning over his body in a way that made him shiver. “Put him in with the rest.”
“Wait!” Chay protested, but he was pulled back out again and shoved into a different room, this time alone. As the door clicked shut behind him, he rubbed at his arm as he took in the half-dozen scared faces looking back at him. He was the only one in his uniform, but they all looked close to his age, and just as scared as he imagined he must look.
No one said a single word, and Chay was not about to be the one to break the silence in case there was an unwritten rule he didn’t know about. Looking warily at the others, he found a spot to press his back to the wall, sliding down and drawing his knees into his chest. His entire body hurt, he tasted blood, and though he wasn’t hungry at the moment, all the physical signs were telling him that he was in desperate need of food. He laid his head on his kneecaps and closed his eyes, trying to conserve what little energy he had before his body decided to shut down.
He must have fallen asleep.
Because the door was swinging open, and everyone else had jumped to their startled feet while Chay could barely pry open his eyelids. His thoughts were sluggish until he remembered where he was, which forced his body to react and stand up like the others.
The man he’d seen in the office was there, accompanied by a few others. The most distinguishable of them was a handsome man in a navy suit, his hair coifed and his eyebrows strikingly prominent. The rest were in much less colorful black suits and white shirts. Handsome Man’s gaze swept the room with mild interest until it landed on Chay, and then something about it seemed to darken. Nothing on his face actually changed, but Chay knew bad vibes from a mile away.
“Where’d you say you found these boys?” Handsome Man said, turning to the Office Man in askance.
“Working off debts,” Office Man replied, expression smarmy as he held an arm out to gesture to the boys. “All clean, I assure you.”
The smarmy Office Man was definitely a liar if he was talking about sexual diseases—if the others were dragged here like Chay was, he had no way of knowing that. But Chay didn’t know if that information was more or less likely to get him out of this, so he kept quiet.
Chay couldn’t help but fidget when Handsome Man’s gaze found its way back to him, dread pooling in his gut.
“See something you like?” Office Man said, reaching out and pulling Chay forward by the shirt and away from the safety of the wall. The force of his tug sent a few buttons flying from Chay’s uniform shirt to clatter to the floor.
Chay looked desperately between them, eyes pricking with uncontrollable tears. “Khun—wait, please—”
Handsome Man’s look was terrifying as he reached out to grasp Chay’s face in his calloused hand, turning it left and right like he was shopping for merchandise and not a human being. After a moment, he glanced back at Office Man. “I’ll take this one.”
“Wh-wh—” Chay stuttered, but he was already being grabbed again, pushed out the door of the small room and down the hall by the familiar enforcers from earlier. From the few doors that were open, it was clear that the rooms on the second floor were occupied by beds.
His heart was going to explode.
Without preamble, he was tossed onto a bed as the men filed out, only to be replaced in the doorway by the Handsome Man shedding his suit jacket and loosening his shirt sleeves. Handsome Man nodded at the men in black suits, who closed the door behind him.
Chay failed to bite back a whimper as Handsome Man approached the bed. Handsome Man stood still at the sound, head tilting to the side as the full force of his attention landed on Chay’s shaking body. “What’s your name, kid?”
Porchay didn’t know if he could get his voice to work and answer. “Khun, please—” he rasped.
“My name is Kinn,” Handsome Man said, still not moving from his position. “You?”
“P-Porchay,” he said, fingers clenching against the rough sheets. He was too scared to even think of a lie.
“How old are you, Porchay?” Kinn said calmly, crossing his arms over his chest. Now that he was free of the jacket, Chay could see just how muscled he was, and it wasn’t making him feel any better.
“Is it…” Chay trailed off, swallowing.
“What?” Kinn prompted.
“Is it better if I’m younger or older?” Chay forced out, scooting slowly towards the far edge of the bed.
Kinn huffed in amusement. “However old you are, I’m not going to fuck you, so stop looking at me like that.”
Porchay stared. “You—”
“I give it ten minutes before that stupid bastard tries to off me while he thinks we’re busy in here.”
“Oh,” Chay said quietly, drawing his knees up to his chest once more. “Okay.”
“Okay?” the man said, one thick brow quirking. “No questions?”
“Well, I’m not going to try and change your mind,” Chay said, rubbing at the dark purple bruises that had sprouted on his upper arms.
“Fair enough,” Kinn nodded. He glanced down at his watch, which looked like it was worth more than Porchay’s life.
“You’re just…going to wait for him to try and kill you?” Chay couldn’t help but ask.
“I need to catch him in the act to justify shooting him in the face,” Kinn said absently. “Politics.”
“Oh,” Chay said. “But doesn’t he seem like the kind of creep that would put cameras in these rooms?” Chay gestured limply with a hand.
“Smart kid,” Kinn grinned. “Those have been down for the past week. Would have seemed suspicious if they suddenly stopped working tonight.”
“Oh,” Chay said again, hit with a sudden and overwhelming wave of exhaustion.
“Hey,” Kinn said sharply, causing Chay to jerk and nearly fall off the bed. “You still with me, kid? You hit your head earlier?”
“No,” Chay muttered. “J’s tired.”
“Okay, well, just give the asshole five more minutes and then we’ll get you to bed, alright?” Kinn said.
“I’m not a baby,” Chay said.
“Yeah, well, that fuckin’ uniform says otherwise,” Kinn said.
“Ugh,” Chay groaned, eyes pricking with tears again. “This was my last good set. Porsche is gonna’ be so mad at me, and I don’t even know how to sew buttons, and I still have homework. Worst day ever.”
“Please don’t cry,” Kinn sighed. “I can’t handle tears.”
“Aren’t you a big scary mafia guy?” Chay sniffed. “Sorry.”
“Other big scary mafia guys don’t tend to cry at the business table,” Kinn said. “Mind if I sit?”
“What?” Chay said, narrowing his eyes before he realized what the man was asking. “Oh, okay. You don’t—I mean, you don’t have to ask me for permission.”
“Seemed like the polite thing to do,” Kinn said, perching on the opposite edge of the bed.
Chay clutched at his knees a bit tighter, muscles aching with how tense they were. They sat in taut silence, Chay not willing to open his mouth and say something that would make this man angry. He seemed okay, but that didn’t mean he would stay that way.
“How’d you end up here?” Kinn said, crossing his legs as he glanced over at Porchay.
“Some guys,” Chay said tiredly.
“Some guys,” Kinn repeated.
“Yeah, they,” Chey gestured lifelessly, “took me from my living room? Umm, can I ask for the time?”
Kinn looked down at his expensive watch. “Two sixteen.”
“Some guys took me from my living room like eight hours ago, I guess.”
Kinn exhaled harshly, and Porchay was afraid he’d offended him somehow. “You owe money?”
“No,” Chay said. “My uncle does.”
“I see,” Kinn said.
“Why, umm, why’d you pick me?” Chay asked quietly.
“Figured a college student would be least likely to kill me, but that would be a great trap, now that I think about it,” Kinn mused, twisting a large silver ring on one of his fingers.
“C-college?” Porschay said, surprised.
Kinn tensed, twisting his body towards Chay. “You’re not in college.”
Chay shook his head meekly.
“Fuck,” Kinn groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Sorry?” Chay said.
“Now I’m thinking I’ll shoot him somewhere in addition to the face,” Kinn muttered.
Kinn glanced up sharply as knuckles rapped at the door. “What?” he barked.
“Boss Tul is asking after you,” a voice replied.
Kinn frowned, dark brows creasing as he looked between the door and Chay. “Color me surprised.” He reached for his jacket, slipping it on and adjusting the collar.
Chay swallowed down the bile threatening to rise in his throat. “Does that mean you’re leaving?” Kinn was scary, but he knew full well that his night could have ended much worse. It still could, if the loan sharks didn’t take him back after this and really meant for him to work off their debt.
The muscles in Kinn’s jaw clenched before he sighed, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. He looked back at Porchay. “Follow me.”