Tankhun thinks Porsche's friend is cute.
He's tall, broad-shouldered, beautiful... and when Tankhun fakes a fall, he gets up very quickly and catches Tankhun before he can hit the floor.
Flustered, excited, Tankhun spends the rest of the evening around him. He is shy as a beetle, soft-spoken, always down to answer any questions Tankhun has about his personal life. When Tankhun drags him on deck, to dance to the muffled music sifting up, from the floor below, he follows, taking Tankhun by the waist and swaying with him.
It's been a while since Tankhun felt this fluttery about anyone. He likes being watched like this. He likes being close. And everytime the words he wants to say cling to the tip of his tongue, Tankhun smiles and looks away.
It is too soon. Granted, he's known the man for a while now, but this feeling is too new to go acting upon it. Tankhun has to let it sit. Let it breathe, before he does something he'd regret.
So, that night, while everyone else sleeps, Tankhun writes. Not of anything unusual. No. He just wants to get the words out. He can't say them. Not yet. Not until he knows what it is.
But he can write about them, pour them out on to paper, and see where the words lead him.
For the first time, Tankhun writes himself into a story. It isn't a big story. Not a very plotty one.
It is just a simple love story, about Tankhun, falling in love with Porsche's friend, Tem.
YOU ARE READING
The Mansion of Men
FanfictionThe mafia men need a place to blow off steam. And it's not the kind of place you might imagine. It's not a bar. It's not a brothel. It's not a gym. It's a website where they get to read anonymous fanfics about their co workers and bosses fucking ea...
