Chapter Text
Avoiding Vegas wasn’t as hard as Pete anticipated. The plan was as simple as sticking to Khun Noo all the time, and Vegas was nothing but a figment of his imagination.
Two weeks and Pete hadn’t seen so much as the shirt trails of Vegas. He would never call, and Pete wasn’t foolish enough to expect anything of the sort. The bruises had all but disappeared from his body, only shadowy marks now, barely visible.
He sat at the round table in Tankhun’s room, Arm and Pol beside him, Porsche lounging on the loveseat at the back. Khun Noo was seated at the center, having an extremely interesting discussion about whether the protagonist of the newest drama they were going to watch would actually end up dead in the last episode.
“I say,” Tankhun puckered his lips, “She is going to slit her own throat, and then jump off the building.”
Arm shook his head, slightly dislodging his glasses, “That’s not possible Khun Noo, it’s a romantic drama. Most likely she will end up happily married to her soulmate.”
Pol nodded agreeing, and Pete ducked his head. He felt no inclination to willingly take part in this conversation.
“Ahh,” Tankhun threw his arms up dramatically, “That’s so boring!!!! But, what if she runs away from her wedding and gets kidnapped, and murdered by a lunatic??”
“That would be a murder-mystery genre Khun Noo, not romance,” Pol offered helpfully.
“Ugh…” Tankhun scowled, “Then pick something else! I don’t wanna waste my evening on stupid dramas.”
A collective roll of eyes moved in a wave around the table.
“What,” Tankhun demanded annoyed, catching on, “You guys have something better planned?”
Arm, Pol, and Pete rapidly shook their heads.
Mollified, but not entirely satisfied he turned, catching Porsche sprawled out, almost snoring, drool dribbling down his chin.
“Yaa!” Tankhun shouted, throwing a fluffed-up tiger pillow, directly aiming at Porsche’s head, “You ungrateful brat! You dare to sleep while I’m trying to find an important job for the evening.” He said spitefully.
“Whaaa?? What happened? Who died?” Porsche sprung up, hand reflexively moving to his gun. His hair standing all over, dried goo in his eyes, his pointy chin shining in all the spit.
He looked adorable, Pete thought, no wonder two heirs of the Families were vying for him.
“No one died. Yet.” Tankhun answered sarcastically. “But if you don’t help me, choose a good series to watch tonight, someone might.”
“That’s boring,” Porsche groaned, yawning. He rubbed his eyes and then stretched his long legs.
Standing up spindly, he offered, “Khun Noo, you’ve been stuck in the house for the past fortnight, it’s Friday. Let’s go out tonight, and,” walking over, he bent right at Tankhun eyes and happily screamed, “Let’s PAARTAAYY!!!!”
Tankhun pressed his hands to his ears together, and shoved Porsche, “You lunatic!! Kinn said Vegas has been acting strangely for the last few weeks, it’s weird, might be dangerous and it’s better if I stayed home…”
“Huh,” Porsche wondered, out loud, “I met Vegas on Wednesday, right outside the bar. He took me out on his bike ride, didn’t seem weird to me…”
Like a dog conditioned to his master, Pete’s ears perked up when he heard Vegas’ name. He undeniably missed Vegas, and obtaining proof that he mattered nothing to him, as Vegas took out Porsche, Pete bit his lip. Hard.
Vegas had never offered Pete a ride, on his bike or even in his car. Every time they hooked up, Pete arrived alone and left by himself, Vegas never asked. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to get caught, but still, Pete felt a twinge of sadness twist in his gut.
He admired Vegas’ bike, from afar, he liked how shiny it was, the way Vegas cared for it, probably the only thing Vegas truly loved. Pete knew it was a luxury vehicle, something Pete probably would never be worthy of having, but sometimes Pete thought he could just go and touch it when it was parked all unguarded right outside the Main mansion. Touch it, feel it. But Pete never mustered the courage and Vegas never offered.
He suddenly itched for a cigarette. Pete wondered if he could slip out into the balcony and take a quick drag.
So engrossed Pete was in his haywire thoughts, he missed as Porsche abruptly turned towards him and said, “You know what’s strange though? Vegas has been asking about you. A lot.”
“Huh?” Pete mumbled, startled, “About me?” He pointed a finger at himself.
“Yeah!” Porsche exclaimed, “He asked me what your favorite food was, weeks ago, though. And recently, just two days ago, when we met up, he asked if you were seeing someone? If you were sick, or something? And the craziest thing was Vegas asked me, pointedly if you had a mark?! Can you believe it!”
Pete stared, slack-jawed. Four pairs of eyes honed on him in silence, until Pete fake-laughed so hard he felt out of breath.
“Hahaha, Khun Vegas must have been only teasing you, Porsche…” Pete’s cheeks hurt from sham-smiling.
“No,” Tankhun shook his head, “My cousin, the scum that he is, doesn’t joke.”
“Yeah,” Porsche agreed, “He looked super serious too when he asked…”
“Maybe,” Arm was peering owlishly at Pete, “Maybe Khun Vegas has a crush on you.”
“What?? Nooo!” Pete vehemently shook his head, his arms dancing along, “I… I don’t even know Khun Vegas, that well, and … and he for sure likes… likes Porsche… with all the bike dates, and everything…”
Pete trailed off; he felt the distinct urge to murder Vegas on the spot.
“That’s the thing you know,” Porsche replied thoughtfully, “I don’t really think he is interested in me. He kissed me that one time, just a peck really. And, and it was really awkward. I felt like I was kissing a cousin or something, and he did too, I guess, from his weirded-out expression… I rather get the feeling he wants something more nefarious from me....”
Tankhun narrowed his eyes, watching his bodyguards, especially Pete.
He had gone red as a tomato, his pupils dilated, eyes shifty. Pete had been acting uncharacteristically too, the last couple of months, he had noticed. It was easy to spot. Anybody could miss it, but not Tankhun. Pete was his oldest companion, most trusted, and perhaps when nobody was around Tankhun could even admit it, his most loved.
Tankhun shifted forward and said in hushed tones, “Well of course! It would be awkward. My cousin is a buffoon to think a butterfly could love a phoenix… Ugh! He was dropped in the head when he was born. Only a butterfly can love a butterfly…”
Pete shifted uncomfortably, not meeting Tankhun’s eyes.
“Do you have a soul mark, Khun Noo?” Pol asked.
“A hummingbird,” Tankhun replied, batting his lashes, “Right above my navel, Kinn has a phoenix too, right on his thigh,” he looked pointedly at Porsche who had turned scarlet as well, and averted his eyes. “Kim has a caladrius on his back.”
“Well,” Pol clapped on Porsche’s back, “One of us has found his soulmate we see!!”
“Ya! You’re my soulmate too,” Arm protested pushing out his wrist and showing a tiny green dragonfly, “Pol has a green dragonfly too, same as mine, right at his ankle.”
Porsche and Pol blushed stuttering something, until Tankhun groaned, “Put my brother out of his misery Porsche, he is drowning in love for you… And you two, no making out in my room, understood.”
If Pete didn’t feel like puking, he would have genuinely laughed at their expressions. But he felt physically ill.
He tried scuttling out of the room like a lizard, unnoticed, but Khun Noo beat him to it.
He looped a hand around Pete and said dramatically, “Alas! It’s just the two of us Pete… No one wants us, two lonely souls… Let’s drown our miseries tonight, all drinks on me!!!”
Pete’s ‘why don’t we just watch a drama’ was muffled out in ‘Hoorah’s’ and ‘Let’s go to Yok’s bar’ as he was dragged out in a wave of bodies.
The bar was crowded like always. They gulped down the drinks in one go, as the music climber higher and higher. Pete was pulled onto the dance floor. Porsche holding his wrist, moving their bodies as one, in beat to the sounds.
Pete gradually loosened, the tight coils of his body opening, as the deep bass reverberated through the room. It didn’t take long until Pete lost himself in the music, the alcohol in his system, taking effect. He wasn’t the best dancer, not athletic like Porsche, not so energetic like Khun Noo, or hot like Arm, but he could hold his own. He gyrated his hips to the peppy rhythm, twerking when he felt strange hands running up and down his torso.
He felt good, he felt alive in the thrum of voices, in the hard crush of random bodies that pushed against him, in the eardrum blasting music out of the speakers that pumped fresh blood in his veins. Pete smiled, he laughed, and he smiled as he danced.
From the corner of his eyes in the flickering lights, he could see Porsche had taken off his shirt, hoisting it above his head like a helicopter, blissed out. Khun Noo was doing a striptease on the tabletop and Arm and Pol were sucking each other’s faces like goldfishes.
Pete couldn’t stop the bubbling of laughter that gurgled up his throat. Until he felt a hand around his shoulder.
A man, slightly taller than him was dancing matching his steps, inching closer. He was handsome, Pete could see, and young too, probably even younger than him. Pete didn’t discourage him until their head was so close, that he could count the stranger’s lashes even in the darkening lights.
But then, all of a sudden, Pete felt a familiar chill on his nape.
He could feel familiar eyes watching him from across the room. Pete swiveled his head trying to locate them.
The moment he glanced around; their eyes met. Vegas’ eyes gleamed in the dark, like two onyx abysses sucking Pete into its gravity.
Pete looked away, maybe he was just hallucinating, panicking in the heat; his cheeks were beginning to warm up, from the exertion, and the booze reaching his brain.
The stranger’s hands had moved lower now, holding onto his waist, trying to crush Pete to his chest. But like a coiling beast, tension curled low in Pete’s belly. He grazed back at the corner, but Vegas was no longer standing there.
Pete would lie if he said he didn’t feel an acute sense of loss. He suddenly yearned for some clean air and a bottle of water.
He pushed away the strange man’s hands from his body, the smell of cheap perfume and sweat putting him off. But the man wouldn’t let go.
“Move,” Pete slurred, trying his best in the crowd, his alcohol-induced brain fighting to get this unknown body off of him. But the man wouldn’t budge, trying to pull Pete closer and closer, until Pete really thought he had to scream and kick and bang the guy’s head open on the floor.
Suddenly, the sweaty hands on his body disappeared. Out of the blue, the guy was thrown across the packed dance floor somewhere.
And Pete stared into the very familiar eyes, he had only thought he was dreaming.
“Looking for someone,” Vegas asked huskily, against Pete’s ear. The sole silver hoop wiggled against his warm breath, as a cold palm pushed up beneath Pete’s shirt.
Pete would later blame it on the alcohol, the stupid feeling of envy of never having a soulmate, but for now, he leaned closer and whispered against Vegas’ lips.
“You, just you.”
He felt as Vegas gradually drew him closer, encircling him in the protective circle of his hands. The slight swaying told him that Vegas was moving him, dancing with him slowly to the beats.
“I got you, baby,” Vegas mouthed, as his arms ran up and down Pete’s body. Slowly cupping his hips, pulling him infinitesimally closer. And Pete couldn’t help it, as he flattened his hands behind Vegas’ head, and leaned a little more, resting his head on Vegas’s shoulder. The hardness between their legs was almost instantaneous.
He wondered belatedly if any of the others would notice them, but strangely Pete couldn’t bring himself to care. He had missed Vegas; he had missed Vegas so much.
“You’re gorgeous, my little pet,” Vegas cooed, cupping Pete’s chin. He ran his nimble fingers along Pete’s jawline. His gaze hungry, starved.
And Pete had never felt sexier before.
He shivered on the hot dance floor, desire drenching his famished soul.
“I wanted to rip that man off, limb from limb,” Vegas growled into his lips, “My men already have him, he’ll pay for what he did… Does that make you happy, love?”
Dazed, Pete nodded.
It was all he could do, to not fall over, and yet, Pete innately understood he needed a moment to gather himself together. He needed a moment, a second of clarity.
He gathered the remaining vestiges of strength he had left and pushed them against Vegas’ chest.
“I… I need a minute,” He stammered and spluttered, pushing against Vegas’ chest until Vegas let go. He didn’t notice the abject hurt of rejection that colored Vegas’ face, as Pete rushed from the dance floor into one of the dingy restrooms at the back.
He stood by the sink, looking at himself in the foggy lights of the bar reflected on the mirrors. Pete’s breath came in shallow huffs, as he hunched over splashing the cool water from the tap.
He glanced at himself again in the mirror, the water running down his face. Pete knew he had lost his brain, and his heart, and there was no way back.
There was a rap on the door, and Pete said loudly, “Just a minute, I’m done…” Until the door opened, and Pete realized he had never closed it.
Vegas stood; his arms folded against his chest. The red satin shirt illuminated his pale expanse of unmarred skin, velvety almost, against the sweat.
“You’re avoiding me,” Vegas said calmly, as he came in. He turned, locking the door.
Pete whirled to face him, his hands gripping the sink as an anchor.
“Why,” Vegas growled, “Are you avoiding me?”
He had come closer until he was standing right between Pete’s knees. And like hearing a siren’s call, Pete parted his knees until Vegas stepped inside the space, between them.
“Why?” Vegas repeated softly, nosing at his face, peppering tiny kisses, “Why Pete?”
And Pete couldn’t, he didn’t think he would live if held back anymore. He pulled up and kissed Vegas, hard, knocking the breath out of Vegas’ lungs.
Pete sucked shamelessly, on Vegas’ tongue and tugged at his bottom lip, over and over until they were both out of breath. He felt Vegas thumb at his jaw, pleading for more, and gave in, so readily, that he almost immediately could taste the embers of Vegas’ desire, melting them both.
Vegas reached for his pants, pushing them out of the way, in one swift motion. He almost didn’t give Pete the time to mimic the same, until he was peeling away the shirt from Pete’s body, as Vegas bent and latched himself around a dusty nipple.
Pete stuttered in hitched breaths, his moans spilling like a reverential prayer. He watched Vegas’ eyes on him, drinking in his very reaction as Vegas palmed his hard leaking cock, slowly.
“Tell me, what do you want, Pete…” Vegas murmured softly, eyes almost heartbreakingly tender.
Pete blushed. He couldn’t, he possibly couldn’t bring himself to say it, and yet he couldn’t take his eyes off Vegas, either.
“Vegas...” Pete started, drawing in shaking breaths, heat overwhelming his body. “Your… your mouth…”
“Want me to suck you off, love,” Vegas smirked, and Pete watched in unfeigned astonishment as Vegas’ mouth engulfed him whole, hot, tight, and wet.
He arched his back right off the sink, a whine spluttering out. Vegas' eyes were dark, never straying from Pete’s face, as his warm tongue ran up and down his cock. Right to the base and up again, lining along the blue veins, sliding to the top in a slurp, and then back down to the base. Up and down…
“Vegas…” Pete cried again running a hand through Vegas’ ebony mane, as he felt Vegas humming, straining, the moans reverberating from the tip of his cock to the ends of his limbs.
Vegas’ fingernails dug into his thighs; a mark Pete would relish later in pure bliss.
Pete couldn’t look away at how beautifully wrecked Vegas looked. A rosy flush spread from his blowing cheeks to down the vee of his shirt. He felt the gathering lick of pleasure pooling around the juncture of his legs, a volcanic gurgitation of it rising to the zenith in waves, about to spill in a moment.
“Vegas…I… I’m close…” Pete panted, trying to push Vegas’ face away. Instead, Vegas held him harder, pulling him closer, digging in his hips, swallowing him whole.
Pete crashed, and came with electricity sizzling across his nerves, eyes rolling back into his skull, his knees giving out his feet curling.
Vegas held him through his orgasm, whispering sweet nothings against his tummy, chest, and neck. He watched as Vegas climbed up, pressing the sweetest kiss against his lips, tasting his own bitterness against Vegas’ lips.
He felt Vegas’ hardness against his hip and tried to reach.
“Shh... Stop,” Vegas admonished. He flipped Pete over like a rag doll, pushing against the sink, his hands curling against the cool porcelain.
Pete felt the cool of the lube, against his ass, as a wet trail of kisses rained down his back, and at the touch of Vegas’ own cock against his balls, he couldn’t hold back a crashing moan.
Filthy, and dirty, Pete pleaded, “Fuck me Vegas… Please.”
“Oh, baby!” Vegas keened, fingers reaching around to hold his swollen cock, “You’re hard again… So fucking sexy, Pete.” He added almost reverentially.
“But remember love,” Vegas warned, showering tiny kisses on his shoulder. “You can’t cum this time until I allow it…”
All Pete could do is nod, everything felt overwhelming, too much. He braced, as Vegas prodded at his hole, gently smearing the precum, and then in a single hit, pushed all the way in.
Pete wailed in pleasure and pain, his hips convulsed and clenched in reflex. Vegas had always been thick, hard, and warm.
Oh! So warm.
Pete arched his back, his moans coming in rhythms of the thrust, the tip of Vegas’ cock pushing against the elusive point inside him.
“Does my baby, like it,” Vegas asked in between the thrusts his voice rough, hands firmly holding Pete’s ass, enough to surely leave a bruise.
“Don’t stop,” Pete cried, “Please… please…” He looked up at the mirror, watching as Vegas fucked him, a smug smile coating Vegas’ face, euphoric, triumphant, almost angelically happy.
“Please…” Pete begged again, chasing away at the crest of pleasure.
He felt as Vegas got faster, more erratic in his movements, Pete watched as Vegas’ face scrunched up in lust. He felt it building up in him, and yet he strived to hold back.
Pete couldn’t beg anymore, he was out of breath, his body felt like jelly, he could only moan louder and louder…
“Touch yourself,” Vegas commanded, his cock swelling inside, “Cum for me Pete.”
All Pete could do was obey. He came a second time in spurts, as it coated his hand, he felt the warmth inside his ass, leaking out joining his own seed. His legs couldn’t hold up anymore as he lolled back with Vegas supporting his weight.
“Easy, love,” Vegas sighed, pressing a kiss against his nape, “Let me take care of you, Pete.”
Vegas cleaned them both, zipped them up, and then stood with hands in his pocket and asked, “Now tell me why are you, really avoiding me?”
The haze of booze and want, swirling in Pete’s mind had cleared. He peeked through his lashes and tried to stop the overflowing feelings of love that suffocated him.
But all he could see was the blue butterfly underneath the red shirt, laughing at him.
He sniffled, trying his best to hold the tears at bay. And Vegas squinted his eyes, he stepped forward, cupping Pete’s face.
“Tell me what’s wrong?”
“’S nothing…” Pete shook his head.
Vegas gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw. He tucked Pete’s chin up and said, “Tell me.”
And the tears fell, hot, unbidden, and salty. “You have a soulmate!!” Pete cried.
Vegas was confused. “Yeah, I do. And you know Pete, it doesn’t matter. I never cared about it. I don’t believe in that bullshit, unlike other people.”
“You love Porsche,” Pete accused, rubbing his arm across his eyes, “You always ask him out. Never me, you never take me for a ride.”
Vegas listened flabbergasted for a moment until a grin broke out. “Are, are you jealous Pete?”
“No, no I’m not,” Pete said even as tears leaked from the corner of his eyes.
“My father wants to use Porsche for something with the Major family, Kinn’s father wants it too. So that’s why I have been tasked to keep an eye out on Porsche.” Vegas said smiling, coming closer and pressing a kiss to Pete’s forehead, “And I don’t ask you out openly, because then you would lose your job, and you said you would never work for the Minor family.”
Vegas shrugged like it explained everything.
And Pete still couldn’t stop the sadness from enveloping him. “What about me, do you care for me Vegas? Do you care about us?”
“Of course, I do,” Vegas replied simply, “You’re fun, we are fun. We are fun together.”
The tears, Pete had held back up until this point, spilled out. He whimpered, as softly as he could.
“Babe, Pete,” Vegas begged, “Tell me what's wrong??”
And finally, Pete lost it. He yelled, right as there was a loud knock on the door; and Tankhun called his name from the other side.
“You have a soulmate, someone waiting for you out there, I don’t. I mean nothing to you, but fun. Only fun. Don't you get it? I love you, you idiot! And you don’t care… I hate you, I hate that I love you… I love you so much…”
The banging on the door got louder and louder until Vegas still dumbfounded and unlocked the door.
Tankhun barged in, followed by Arm and Pol. They stared first at Pete’s tear-soaked face and then at Vegas.
“What?” Pol asked confused, “Pete, what happened? We were looking for you everywhere. You just disappeared”
“You devil spawn,” Tankhun narrowed his eyes and barked at Vegas, “What did you do to Pete?”
Tankhun would’ve probably attacked Vegas and snatched his eyes out if Pete didn’t intervene. He jumped forward holding back Tankhun.
“It’s nothing Khun Noo… Let’s just go…”
Arm, Porsche, and Pol wrestled with a murderous Tankhun to get him out, and Pete looked back one last time.
“Goodbye Khun Vegas” and he bowed.
Later, much later after Pete had gone to bed, he woke up to use the bathroom. In his sleep-lidden eyes seating on the commode, he looked down on his hips, and in strange bewilderment, Pete let out a scream.
A small, dainty sapphire butterfly with its wings spread perched low on his hip, almost as if it had just flown in minutes ago...