#kimarm

Kim stood and slowly approached Arm, unconcerned arrogance in every line of his body. Arm subtly tensed, prepared for an attack of some kind. He had no idea why Kim was here, but it couldn’t be good. But Kim stopped a few paces away, and Arm saw tiredness carefully concealed behind the nonchalance. Kim looked as handsome as always, perhaps even more so as the warm light lent softness to his angled features. If Arm were less skilled at reading people, he might believe the controlled facade. But Arm was very skilled at reading people, and he thought that perhaps Kim was here to experience the room’s hidden purpose. “How can I help you tonight?” he asked, deliberately dropping the khun to see if he was right.

Kim frowned. “That’s twice you’ve talked to me disrespectfully,” Kim said, chin tilting up in a familiar cool expression. He didn’t say anything more, just looked imperiously at Arm.

Arm smiled softly, confident that he’d read the situation right. “In this room, I don’t call anyone khun,” Arm said, his tone mild. “In this room, I’m the one in charge. And that’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Someone has told you of the assistance I can offer?”

Kim swallowed, striving to maintain his mask. “So it’s true? You jerk people off to make them feel better?” His voice was harsh, but there was a tremor in its foundations.

Arm shook his head and took a step closer. “We don’t talk like that in here. What I do is offer hard-working people a way to release their burdens and find some peace, if only for a while. And for all of your arrogance, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t looking for that same thing.” His heart thundered at speaking to Kim so boldly. There was a chance that Kim would be offended, that Arm had just risked his career or even his life, but he had to trust that Kim understood the significance of his purpose in this room.

To his relief, Kim’s face softened and he nodded slightly. A wry smile lit his face and he said, “I suppose if you’re willing to talk to me like that, it means you’re good at keeping this…role separate from real life.”

“I am,” Arm said, picking up on the subtext. “I would never allow anything from the outside world to affect what happens in here, or take anything from this room back out there. It’s a cliché, I know, but what happens in this room stays in this room. Outside that door, it simply doesn't exist.”

Kim’s shoulders dropped as though he was setting down a heavy burden. “I’m sick of being strong,” he said out of nowhere. “I’m sick of second-guessing everything and everybody. I’m sick of trying to be a dozen different people all at once.” His words spilled out faster as he talked. “I’m sick of being on guard constantly, having to work out what lies I’m being fed and whose agenda I’m dancing to. I’m sick of being alert, and tense, and switched on every fucking second. I need to stop,” he finished, his voice catching.

A burst of sympathy flared in Arm’s chest. “I know,” he said softly. “You do understand what we’ll do here, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Kim said softly. “I’m…I shouldn’t have said what I did before.” He met Arm’s gaze, his eyes sparkling with emotion. 

Arm took another step closer. “It’s forgotten. I feel like what you need is to give up control to me for a while, however hard that might be for you. Does that sound right?”

“Yes,” Kim said, barely audible. “I want to stop thinking and just…feel.”

Arm nodded, settling into the familiar lines and actions of his role. “Okay. I can help you do that. Do you want me to touch you at all? Any kind of touch is available, from a simple hug to sexual gratification. Whatever you need.” 

“I think…” Kim closed his eyes, clearly fighting to get the words out. “I need…” He glared around the room, frustrated with himself. Arm waited patiently until Kim said, “I don’t ever have sex with anyone, okay? I can’t shake the idea they’re trying to use me in some way, to get leverage or blackmail material; I can’t trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable. And most of the time it’s fine, I don’t miss it that much, but right now…” He sighed, clenched his jaw. “Speaking frankly? I really need to cum.”

Arm just managed to control his reaction. “We can do that,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I’m going to strip to my underwear now. “Arm took off his jacket and hung it up tidily. He unfastened his cuffs, aware of Kim’s eyes fixing onto his hands. “You should get undressed too.”

“Oh, yeah,” Kim said, the tips of his cheekbones flushing prettily. He took off his suede jacket and pulled his tank over his head, revealing smooth skin and lean muscle. 

“Do you want to touch me, or just be touched?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions,” Kim said, stepping out of his jeans. His tight grey boxers were tented slightly, belying his almost-hostile tone.

“How else can I give you what you need?” Arm asked as he took off his pants and folded them.

Kim’s eyes widened just a little. “Fair enough,” he said hoarsely, glancing down Arm’s body and pausing on his boxers. Arm’s cock was hardening, and he noted the interest in Kim’s gaze. “I want to touch you too.”

Arm closed the gap between them, brushing Kim’s parted lips with his thumb. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He waited to see if Kim would refuse, but Kim breathed, “Yes,”. Arm kissed Kim lightly, testing the waters, but Kim opened his mouth and grabbed Arm by the hair and kissed him back fiercely. Arm wanted to sink into it, to take everything Kim was offering, but that wasn’t his place. He pulled back with gentle firmness and said, “Don’t try to control this, Kim. Just let me lead you.”

Kim sighed, then nodded. “Right. I can do that.”

Arm kissed him again, cradling his face, keeping it soft and almost teasing. He could feel Kim’s impatience in the way his hands clutched Arm’s hips, but gradually Kim relaxed into it. The kisses turned deep and languid, and Kim moaned quietly. His cock was hard now, Arm could feel it; his own cock hardened fully in response.

Eventually, Arm pulled back. Kim’s lips were red and shining, his pupils blown wide. “Kim,” Arm said. “I want you to get on your knees for me.”

Without a murmur, Kim dropped to his knees at Arm’s feet. He reached for Arm’s boxers, but at the last second he caught himself and lowered his hands. 

“That’s very good, Kim,” Arm said warmly, and Kim inhaled sharply. “Now you can take them off.”

Kim peeled down Arm’s underwear, eyes fixated on the throbbing cock that was revealed. 

“You’re going to blow me now,” Arm said evenly. “If you need to stop, say ‘sunflower’. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Kim whispered, and lowered his head obediently.

Kim’s oral skills were exquisite, Arm reflected through the surging pleasure in his body; Kim started with kitten licks and quickly progressed to deep-throating him. Arm held Kim’s face carefully, telling him when to slow down and when to go faster. Kim resisted direction at first, but at Arm’s firm instruction soon began to do as he was told. Arm let Kim do all the work for a while, although he found it harder than usual to maintain an implacable front. 

When he judged that the time was right, Arm said, “Stop, Kim, and sit still. Good. Now relax your jaw and let me take over.” He saw Kim’s momentary hesitation, the apprehension in his eyes. But then Kim nodded and settled deeper into his neat virasana pose, hands held loosely on his thighs. When he compliantly opened his mouth and waited, Arm’s arousal flared; for the first time ever, he wanted to drop his role and just enjoy what was happening. But that wasn’t why he was here, and it certainly wasn’t what Kim needed, so Arm took a deep breath before gently pushing past Kim’s lips.

Kim just knelt there, still and relaxed as he let Arm gently fuck into his mouth. Arm put a grounding hand on his shoulder and murmured, “That’s perfect, Kim,”; Kim’s eyes fell closed and his whole posture relaxed even further. His face went slack with a beautiful serenity as the scene continued, and Arm could see that he was starting to drift. He maintained a slow, steady rhythm, his hand gripping Kim’s shoulder the whole time, and murmured praise constantly. Kim’s cock was raging hard and leaking through his boxers, but he never tried to touch it. Arm felt a fierce pride for Kim’s efforts, and a possessive urge that surprised him.

Finally, when he thought Kim was ready, Arm squeezed his shoulder and said, “Kim, I’m going to cum now. You can swallow or spit, I don’t mind. If you need me to pull out instead, tap my thigh twice.”

Kim’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks like butterfly wings, a gentle moan echoing from his throat, but he didn’t move. Arm gasped, “Now, Kim,” as he erupted in waves of pleasure and release. Kim frowned a little, his hands clenching on his own thighs; he groaned around Arm as his cock jerked and he began to cum untouched in his underwear. It was glorious, the beatific calm settling over Kim’s face like something from a dream. Arm longed to dwell in the moment, but he knew that he wouldn’t. He would keep this memory tucked away like a gemstone in his mind, to be treasured and honoured but never unwrapped. 

When his cock was spent and Kim began to stir, Arm held Kim’s jaw and gently withdrew. “You did wonderfully,” Arm said quietly as Kim blinked and gazed up at him, his eyes hazy. “Can you stand?”

“Yes,” Kim whispered hoarsely. He leaned on Arm and let himself be led to the bed, where he rested while Arm cleaned him up with efficient care. He ate the fruit that Arm gave him, drank the water without protest. But when Arm suggested that Kim could stay and sleep a while, the shutters came down and the mafia son persona settled firmly back into place. 

“I don’t need to stay,” Kim said, reaching for his clothes. While Kim dressed, Arm put on clean boxers and a soft cotton robe. He wasn’t sure what to say to Kim, so he stayed silent.

At the doorway, Kim turned back. His eyes were burning, but it seemed to Arm that his body language was looser, more relaxed. “You’re good at playing your role,” Kim said simply, then turned and left.

Into the empty silence, Arm replied, “Not half as good as you are.”

* * * *

Read this fic in the A03 collection here

Kim didn’t see what happened after that, bundled back inside and into the medical office where he was checked and examined despite his protests. When he’d spoken to the police, and his manager finally accepted that he was fine, Kim slammed the office door open and prepared to storm out to his car. Instead, he stopped in his tracks; opposite the doorway stood Arm.

A faint purple smudge crowned his left cheekbone. His glasses were gone, presumably broken in the fracas. His hair looked as though it had been tousled and then unconvincingly smoothed down. Kim noted all of that distantly, his whole attention focused on Arm’s outfit.

Black leather trousers wrapped flatteringly around thick thighs, nipped in around slender hips. A white tank showed off broad shoulders, rounded biceps and sharp collarbones. When he looked up at Arm’s eyes, he saw a reflection of his own sudden, unexpected interest.

“Are you wearing my clothes?” Kim gasped, as recognition dawned.

Arm ducked his head. “My apologies, khun. My shirt got torn and there was blood on my own clothes. Your wardrobe manager said I could borrow these.”

Behind Arm’s shoulder, Sun winked at Kim and mouthed, You’re welcome.

“Don’t ruin them,” Kim snapped, instead of they’d look better on my floor.

“Of course,” Arm said, a faint smile almost cresting before he caught it.

Kim flushed and pushed his way out into the night, the crowds long since dispersed. As he climbed into his car he glanced back; Arm was just stepping out of the stage door, the spotlight above it shining down on him. Golden light pooled in the hollow of his throat, splayed across the lines of his shoulders, cast shadows beneath the impressive swell of his pecs.

Kim swallowed hard, battling with himself for a remarkably short amount of time before sighing internally and yelling, “Arm! You’re with me".

* * * *

Read this fic in the A03 collection here

Kim should really have dropped it there. But it bothered him that Arm was unbothered, so he said, “You realise that Father only sends me bodyguards he doesn’t rate, don’t you?”

“Actually, khun, I requested this assignment.”

Kim blinked once, rattled to his core. “What? Why?”

Arm opened his mouth, closed it, gave an endearing little head shake, and asked, “Can I speak frankly?”

“Go ahead,” Kim said, lounging back in his chair to resist the sudden urge to sit forward.

“Big kept talking about how difficult he found guarding you. I suppose I wanted to see why.”

Kim narrowed his eyes, an odd prickle running over his skin. “Oh? So I’m just a social experiment to you, then?”

“No, khun, not at all,” Arm said, flushing. “I apologise, I didn’t express myself well.”

“You can try one more time,” Kim said coolly, “before I have you reassigned permanently.”

Arm bowed, took a moment to think, then said, “During training, I was taught about all of the family members and their respective responsibilities. All Chan told me about you were the basics - age, birthday, blood type - and that you’d left the family home a year ago. I found that…intriguing.” He noticed Kim’s frown deepening and hastily said, “No, not like you’re an oddity or anything like that. More, I admired your strength of character to walk away. I suppose I felt… a connection of some kind. When Big struggled so much, it was a surprise to me. He’s usually very determined, not one to give up lightly. I like to challenge myself, and I wanted to meet you, and…well, no, I think I’ve said enough.”

Kim sat silently, absorbing and dissecting Arm’s words. The bodyguard looked back at him steadily but Kim could see signs of stress in his tight jaw, pink cheeks and tense shoulders. It seemed to be because Arm was afraid of causing offence rather than trying to hide a lie, which sent a whole new kind of prickle running down Kim’s spine.

“Alright,” Kim said eventually. “I get it. But let me be clear; you may have asked for this assignment, but I didn’t. I don’t want you here, Arm, or anyone else. I can take care of myself.”

“Of course,” Arm nodded. “I know that. But even if a person can manage something on their own, it doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate some support.”

Kim turned away to hide the swelling hopefulness that he couldn’t afford to feel.

Weeks went by and they gradually settled into a rhythm. Kim mostly ignored Arm, whose unflappability grew on him slowly, insidiously; without even realising it, Kim began to look for Arm’s presence. When Arm was gone for a day, Kim missed his silent, steady company. When WiK was making a public appearance, he liked knowing Arm was there at his shoulder. When he was summoned to see his father, it was a smidgen easier having Arm there with him.

If Kim ever needed Arm he was always there, stepping in without complaint or judgement. When a virus wiped out his home studio setup, Arm had it restored and working normally within the day. When a pretentious music magazine slammed WiK’s new single, Arm took Kim to the building’s gym and sparred with him until the frustration was used up. When Kim fumbled cutting an onion for dinner, Arm calmly cleaned and bandaged his hand despite Kim’s protests. 

When Kim brewed tea, he started making a second cup every time. When he chose takeout, he avoided the foods Arm disliked without ever really consciously deciding to. When Arm showed signs of sickness, Kim sent him to bed and made him stay there without reporting it to Chan.

When Kim drank more than he’d realised at a record label Christmas party, it was Arm who took him home and made him tea while he changed into sweats and a loose, comfy t-shirt. Kim downed the tea and took a bottle of whisky out onto the balcony, calling over his shoulder, “Bring two glasses”.

Arm did as he was told, even when Kim asked him to sit on the loveseat beside him. But when Kim raised the whisky bottle to pour, Arm covered the glass with one flattened hand. 

“Khun Kim, I think perhaps you’ve drunk enough tonight,” he said carefully.

Kim gave him what should have been an intimidating glower, though he felt the edges of it fuzzing slightly. “I know my own limits, Arm. You’re not here to tell me what to do.”

“No, of course,” Arm said, ducking his head but not moving his hand. “I am here to protect you, though.”

Kim sighed, ignoring the warmth glowing in his chest at Arm’s words. “I know that. But I’m still your boss, correct? And it’s Christmas Eve, and I want to have a drink with you. So move your hand. Now.”

Arm blinked, but did as he was told. Watching Kim pour, he asked tentatively, “You want to have a drink with me? Why?”

“Blame the free champagne,” Kim said, holding out his glass for Arm to clink against. He did, and they drank, and Kim tried not to watch Arm’s throat. After a moment Kim said, “And also because you’ve been less of a pain in my neck than you could have been. Call this your Christmas bonus.”

Arm laughed, sparking the heat in Kim’s belly. “Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Kim leaned closer, ignoring the klaxon sounding in the back of his head. “Do you? Thank me properly, then.”

Arm looked so deliciously confused that Kim couldn’t help kissing him. Arm didn’t resist but didn’t respond, and irritation flared. Kim grasped the back of Arm’s neck and pressed closer, licking gently at the seam of his lips. Arm sighed, and their tongues met, and for a few blissful seconds everything dropped away.

Then Arm stiffened and turned his head, just enough to break the kiss, and gasped, “Khun, I’m sorry but I don’t think you’re sober enough to make this choice”.

Kim scoffed and stood, allowing the sting of rejection to fire out of his mouth as anger. “Stop fucking telling me what I need, Arm. You’re not my friend, just my bodyguard.”

Arm stood too, straightening his expression as well as his jacket. “Of course, khun. My mistake.”

Kim wanted to lash out but held himself back by a hair. Draining both glasses, he stalked away from Arm with a snide, “Merry fucking Christmas”. He fell into a fitful sleep, and woke up to a nightmare.

* *

Khun Bhumibol chose Christmas Day to launch his attack on Khun Korn, his oldest and bitterest rival. Kim was woken in the early hours by his phone, answered it to a frantic Tankhun babbling about armed men in the compound. Kim got dressed at lightning speed, taking another call from Chan as he did. Arm banged on his door and Kim shouted back, “I know!”.

When he emerged, Arm was ready to go. They were at the compound within minutes, thrown straight into the thick of battle. Kim’s entire focus narrowed to fight mode, going wherever he could do the most damage. He met Kinn in the half-destroyed meeting room and they stuck together, working their way through their childhood home until every last enemy was down or dead.

“Where’s Nu?” Kim asked, shock starting to filter through the adrenalin.

“Arm took him to the tech room, they should be safe,” Kinn replied. They exchanged a look, and wordlessly went to find their brother.

The tech room door hung off its hinges. Blood pooled thickly in the doorway.

“Nu!” Kinn screamed, sprinting to the door. By contrast, Kim’s whole body seemed to go into slow motion. He saw Kinn run to Tankhun, who sat curled up in the corner with his head in his hands. He saw three bloodied bodies in casual clothing, each holding a weapon they’d never use again. And he saw Arm slumped in front of Tankhun, his white face speckled with blood, his white shirt blooming with crimson. 

“He’s okay,” Kinn said, “I’m taking him out of here”.

Kim almost said he’s not fucking okay, look at him, but he knew that Kinn meant their brother and not Arm. So he nodded, and told Kinn to call a doctor, and dropped to his knees by Arm’s side.

Kim knew basic field first aid, enough to find the thready pulse in Arm’s throat. Relief welled up, but it was a fragile thing at best. Kim began to work mechanically, opening Arm’s shirt to find the wound, tearing his own t-shirt to hold against it. He shut his feelings away, a survival tactic he was getting too good at. He didn’t realise that he was speaking at first, it’s not that bad and open your eyes and don’t you go anywhere, you fucker, the words meant to calm himself as much as Arm. Then, out of nowhere, he said desperately, “Wake up, dumbass! I know this is a bad time, but I think I love you.”

Arm’s eyelids fluttered, a sigh escaping, and then there came a feather-soft, “I was wondering when you’d realise.”

* * * *

Read this fic in the A03 collection here