Moment of Glory (Kinn x Porsche) (KinnPorsche)

Chapter 9: Green Pastures

Waking up from a nightmare, as he often did, Kinn was about to reach for his gun underneath the pillow that he always kept and instead felt something softer. Hair?

Opening his eyes in the darkness, the man sat up, the sheets pooled at his waist as he was naked underneath it and turned to peer at the moonlight hitting against the tantalizing golden skin, outlining the silhouette of a sleeping man. Not just any man. Porsche. His Porsche. Kinn swallowed deeply. This man was his. Right? His hand lifted then hesitated. They'd fucked and had sex – that didn't mean they were together. They were running on autopilot, the adrenaline rush of the entire day's events, and finally gave into their sexual appetite. Now came the hard part: emotions.

Suddenly parched, Kinn rolled out of bed to shuffle to his luggage to slide on a pair of boxers, sweatpants, and debated on a shirt before shrugging. Who was looking at him anyway? The time was 3AM. Two more hours till they got up to repeat their chores.

Dreading, he peeked to Porsche and couldn't resist tiptoeing over to the playful fox, dipped a tiny kiss to the forehead before walking to the door to traipse to the kitchen.

Opening the cabinets for a glass, poured a pitcher of fresh water from the fridge, Kinn almost dropped the item when he heard a voice, "Hungry?" He swiveled to see Rhett leaning against the doorframe, in a blue robe, diversion all over the wrinkled features of an aged man. Kinn wiped his mouth and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry?"

"Don't be. I was young once. In love," Rhett hummed in the memory. Nostalgia across his brown eyes that Kinn had seen when the man caressed the cowboy hat he'd worn, it was as if recollecting a fond memory and moving on. Crossing to do the same as Kinn with water, he crooked a finger, "Follow me." He didn't have to look behind him to know that Kinn was following him. Together, quietly, Rhett opened a door to an office-like room and waved for Kinn to step inside.

The room was littered with pictures of two men. Different stages of life. With horses, with Christmas Trees, at what appeared to be a rodeo (Kinn looked those up after the helping hands at the stable told him he'd be good at it), and then trinkets decorated every nook and cranny. Shelves of books, papers neatly piled, and Kinn glanced to Rhett, "What is this place?"

"It's ... Noah's office."

Kinn's eyes looked at one picture of Rhett and this other man, now identified as Noah, smiling broadly at the beach with sunglasses on, windswept hair, Rhett on the man's shoulders as the picture is taken, "Who is Noah?"

"The love of my life."

"I'd ask where he is now," The younger man started and didn't have to dig too far, the IV bag in the corner, the wheelchair folded and placed in another one, he stared, "...I'm sorry."

"It's been five years now?" Rhett hobbled over to sit down on the rolling chair, Kinn assisted him and settled atop the coffee table in the room, "Yeah. Five years."

"How did you meet?" The hidden what happened was unspoken but understood.

The sigh that escaped Rhett while grabbing a picture off the desk, brushing his thumbs against the edges, lip wobbled, tears springing into narrowed eyes, "I was sent here to be adopted from my parents in Thailand. They were poor and wanted me to have a better life. My family took me and raised me. I met Noah Armstrong at a car show. I used to love driving and racing around...he told me that horses were better." Snorting, he swallowed, "I told him he was an idiot."

Kinn noticed a tear roll down the withered face, reached for a tissue to hand it over, letting the man catch his breath and regal his story, "I mean cars are better."