kimchay one shots

Where He Belongs by BubbleworldAddict

Khimhant watched the figure of the young man stand to his feet and grasp the hand being held out to him, clasping it, letting it pull him out onto the dance floor. Black obsidian watched with almost clinical detachment as the two figures gyrated to the pounding bass, clearly feeling the vibrations through their bodies as they moved together smiling - eye fucking - body's teasing through one evocative move to the next.

Porchay...

His.

Every inch.

Inside and out.

Those eyes the stranger was staring into belonged to Khimhant. That waist the fucker's fingers were lingering on was his. That coquettish smile, the provocative moves, his every breath were no one else's but Khimhant's. His heart - his soul - his laughter - his goddamn love!

They fucking belonged to him!

It was time to end this foolishness - time to stop playing games. It was time to take back what was his. He'd tried doing things the easy way. He'd sent him a song. Only one day later and here they were... Porchay dancing with someone else. Porchay letting someone else touch him. Porchay looking into someone else's eyes. Porchay's breath mingling with another's...

The stranger clearly wanted to kiss him - wanted to touch him - suck him - fuck him - leave his mark. And just as clearly... Porchay was considering letting him.

Over Khimhant's goddamn dead body... or the stranger's... but that would ultimately be up to Porchay.

Pushing off the wall he had been leaning on since entering the club tonight - only a few steps behind Porchay - Khimhant strode through the throng. His mind was only focused on reclaiming what he had lost.

Porchay would argue with him there. Lost, he would probably scoff – for in his eyes - Khimhant had thrown Porchay away.

Khimhant had done anything but...

What he had done was give Porchay the chance to get away - to run; from him - this life - his father. He'd unselfishly pushed Porchay away from the dangers one could not escape when associated with the name Theerapanyakul.

His selfless act had gone unheeded.

Porchay remained. By choice or by fate or by the simple dumbass decision of his older brother - Porchay stayed. And he cutely stayed under the assumption that he had choices - choices about where he went - what he did - whom... he did.

Porchay did not realize yet that staying left him with only one option - one place where he could stand. 

Beside him.

Khimhant had attempted a soft approach - a song - the message clear - point blank on the nose - Why Don't You Stay. Porchay had listened to the song and the very next night Khimhant had followed him here - followed and watched.

Porchay was fighting his destiny - their destiny. Porchay was still angry - still misunderstanding the larger picture. Khimhant had hoped by the simple expanse of him spending time at the compound that Porchay would have developed a stronger sense of what happened in that hell hole - what life was there - along with a stronger sense of survival - his own.

Khimhant had clearly been mistaken.

Porchay was still his Chay - naive - bumbling - cute - sweet - unassuming with some newly acquired anger issues. Anger directed at his brother and at Khimhant.

Khimhant understood. His brother had lied and broken his trust. Khimhant had lied, too and broken his heart.

As the music thrummed through his body Khimhant's eyes remained glued to his pray - his mind centered on the here and now and not his lover's pain. Porchay's broken heart would mend. Khimhant would see to that. It was only a matter of time.