Trapped in Kismet [KinnPorsche] [Kinn x Porsche]

Part 6: Reappearance

Escorted to their private seating area, Porsche felt completely out of place.

The feeling of that heavy hand squeezing his own, not lightening in their grip as they shuffled this way and that to their assigned booth, then it shifted to settle on his thigh once they sat down.

It was so hot that Porsche could feel the heat seeping through the leather, and he could only sit cross-legged to hide any sign of a reaction. He was trying to recover his bearings from their hallway moment. His own body seated upright as he moved his own hand atop Kinn's to pat it when those fingers spread to get more body to grab.

"What're you doing?" He whispered lightly between them as other patrons filtered in, nodding to them politely before trailing to their own booths.

The dim lighting for the room comfortable and bringing attention to the front stage of the presentation of the most exquisite jewels. But none seemed to rival Kinn who sparkled without a light.

"We just made out in the hallway and me touching your thigh is weird?"

"Sssh. You caught me off guard," Porsche nudged Kinn's hand as if to usher it off his thigh only to feel the palm just squeeze it firmly. The grip secure and unwavering. His eyes narrowed to glare at Kinn who only stared forward calmly, holding up his hand to feel it filled with a glass of whiskey and coke by a guard who inspected it.

"I told you. I'm a very physical person. I have to stake my claim openly," Kinn admitted firmly. From the corner of his eyes, he could see that Porsche looked at him with disbelief.

"That seems really unnecessary. It's dark as hell in here and no one's looking at us. Well...you probably, but not me."

Sipping his drink, Kinn finally shifted his head to the side to stare firmly with those mesmerizing black eyes into Porsche's lighter brown. Neither broke the eye-contact and for a moment, nothing else mattered.

Then those damn lips turned upward in a smirk and Porsche wanted to kiss them again roughly if only to get rid of their mocking tint, "You are a little naïve."

"Hardly, just realistic." Porsche tilted his head to the side with a raised eyebrow.

It seemed never ending; their eyes trying to suck one another's souls when the auctioneer announced that they would be beginning soon, and it made Porsche yield by looking away with a clear of his throat. "Asshole...just have to win don't you."

"Always," Kinn chuckled, leaning to press a little kiss to Porsche's jaw and immediately getting to his feet when he saw the other's expression of stammered disbelief, "I'll be back. Nature calls, don't miss me."

"I won't," Porsche stuck out his tongue but immediately retreated it back when he noticed Kinn's expression muddled over hungrily again.

"That tongue will get you into trouble," Kinn mused as he had leaned forward, catching Porsche's chin with his hand so swiftly that Porsche could only settle his hand on that wrist to keep it in place; not shove it off.

Was he really affecting Kinn or was the lighting being cruel to play jokes on his eyes? The latter he figured, and he waved his hand. "Go, I don't want you blaming me that you pissed yourself."

He hated himself.

Porsche hated how his eyes traced after Kinn's broad back, picturing removing that orange suit jacket, clawing off the buttons of the black shirt as he slowly but surely sank down to his knees in front of the man and worshipped him. He hated that Kinn's hungry glances and grips on his body were sending literal shivers through him and he sighed to himself.