Overheat [kinnporsche & vegaspete]

the alpha's alpha

A/N:

I don't know if this helps. But when I picture Tod Setely, I see Tod from "Not Me".

:)

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Porsche didn't like that Vegas was right.

He had been foolish to gamble his friendship with Kinn on a few weeks of fucking that ultimately led to total alienation. He knew that. He'd known that from day one.

Was it fucked up? Yes. Stressful? Yes. Worth it? A big, fucking yes.

Although, Porsche would admit, that there were times when it didn't feel worth it. When Porsche entered a room and Kinn left. When he sat down with their friends, Kinn got up. The message was clear. It was everything Porsche should have expected and he knew he deserved it.

He'd forgotten that Kinn had shadows that followed his every move and kept unwanted people away from Kinn. Having grown up with unlimited access to Kinn, Porsche had taken it for granted. Unlike most people, he could walk up to Kinn whenever, wherever, and for whatever reason.

But the first time Porsche had seen Kinn leave and moved to follow, he'd been intercepted by Big. Because Big only ever showed his face when Kinn was unavailable, or unapproachable to someone. And that someone had never been Porsche.

Until now.

"Big-" he'd started to say.

"No hard feelings, Porsche," Big had said. "But he doesn't want to see you right now."

It wasn't the avoidance. It wasn't the fact that Kinn wouldn't even look at Porsche anymore. It wasn't the fact that when Porsche spoke, the few times Kinn hadn't run from the room, Kinn had stood there, pretending he didn't hear a word Porsche spoke. It wasn't all that.

The grandest tell that Porsche was in trouble was Big's presence.

Because if Kinn was mad at Porsche, but he wanted Porsche to approach him, Big wouldn't be getting in the way. If Kinn had made allowances for anything Porsche had to say or apologize for, Big would keep his distance. The fact that he was standing between Porsche and Kinn told Porsche everything he needed to know.

"I told you so," Vegas said.

They hadn't been able to go into Porsche's room because Pete was in there. But they couldn't go back to Vegas' room because it was directly opposite Kinn's and Porsche didn't think he could handle it, at the moment.

They ended up in the South-west corner of the hotel's roof, sitting under clear, starry night, looking over the busy city below as Porsche helped himself to the second pack of beers that Toss had gotten for him. Really, Toss deserved a raise for the amount of stress Porsche put him through on a daily basis.

Porsche hadn't been planning to drink so much. However, there was a metal shed that housed the curved end of a large vent, just behind them. And Porsche had forgotten until they got up to the roof. But as soon as he sat, looking around, he remembered the night Kinn had brought him up to this same spot to drink. And they'd fucked up against that vent's shed.

Thinking of that time, Porsche had downed a beer. And another. And then another. Because he could still hear Kinn's dry, breathless moans of "Porsche," every time he thrust in, arms holding Porsche up, straining from his weight, but too keyed up to do anything else. He hadn't complained until they'd finished and they were lying on the floor, looking up at the sky.

"Serves you right," Vegas said, unapologetically.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Your side," Vegas said without hesitation. "But Kinn has always been a coward when it comes to this stuff. He'd rather other people deal with it. And with you, it's much worse because it's you. And you're in his face everyday and he can't even do anything about it. Which is why he's taking it out on the rest of us."