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    “Mm,” Porsche hums, playing with a strand of his hair. “Hey, Kinn.”

    “What?” Kinn asks, opening his eyes. He hadn't even noticed when they closed.

    “Do you have fantasies about me?”

    Kinn doesn’t have to look at the man to know he has a little smirk on his face. Drunk Porsche is always horny and it was only a matter of time until things turned sexual. Kinn is honestly surprised they lasted this long. But maybe it’s the wine. It’s quite heavy and the feel of being drunk feels a little different than being tipsy on whisky. Or maybe he just drank too much and he doesn’t have a good grasp on reality. He knows his limits when it comes to whisky, but wine is a sneaky little bitch.

    “Fantasies?” He echoes after his boyfriend and sits up. It makes his head spin a little, but he sits crossed legged, raising an eyebrow at Porsche.

    Just like he thought, Porsche has a mischievous look on his face, the corners of his mouth ticking up. “Yes, Kinn. Sexual fantasies, I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

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    21 Jun 2026

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    “What’s the matter?” Porsche breathes. “Are you afraid Vegas would be a better kisser than you? Fuck me better than you?”

    Kinn goes completely still. He draws back slowly; a cold, detached kind of anger on his face, like he’s transcended rage completely. The part of Porsche that should be frightened has been replaced by the overwhelming, empty ache between his legs.

    Porsche gazes at him, knowing he’s about to get exactly what he wants. “You don’t have any kind of claim on me. I don’t belong to you.”

    Or: Kinn catches Porsche arriving home on Vegas' motorcycle in Episode 5.

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    21 Jun 2026

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    “You can show me how sorry you are.” Kinn puts the glass down on a nearby table. “Get on the bed.”

    Porsche hesitates. He didn’t think this was the direction that Kinn would go in and it confuses him, coming now as it does with Kinn looking at him expectantly, no sign of the sorrow that’s haunted him for a week, like he’s finally come to a decision.

    “Get on the bed,” Kinn repeats, arms crossed. “Take off your clothes.”

    Or: Porsche broke Kinn's trust on the night he left to meet Vegas. Kinn comes up with a way for Porsche to earn that trust again.

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    21 Jun 2026

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    The water has saturated Porsche's white shirt completely, soaking through the vest beneath. The translucent material clings obscenely to the swell of his pecs. His nipples are clearly visible through the sheer material, hard and pebbled, with the unmistakable shape of the metal barbells pierced either side of them.

    Porsche’s head jerks up to check if he can still hide them from Kinn, but it’s already too late. Kinn is standing across the room, staring in Porsche’s direction, entire body coiled tight like a spring.

    Or: While Kinn is away on a business trip, Porsche gets his nipples pierced as a surprise for their anniversary. Kinn comes home earlier than Porsche expected. 

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    21 Jun 2026

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    Kinn is looking at Porsche like he’s seen a ghost.

    Porsche blinks and the haunted expression is gone, Kinn smoothing it over with something neutral, but there’s still something fragile at the edges of it, like a crystal figurine balanced on a ledge. Kinn’s body relaxes in a way that’s purposefully casual, tucking his outstretched foot back onto the bed.

    “You were in the bathroom,” Kinn says. He phrases it like an answer rather than a question.

    Or: Porsche left Kinn in their bed with nothing but a note. In the aftermath of the shootout, Kinn can't stop thinking about it.

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    21 Jun 2026

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