Chapter Text
The first time Vegas saw him, he really didn't know who the boy was.
All that caught the older man's attention was the small, sullen form in the corner of the bar, distinguishing himself from all the large, merry bodies dancing around the place.
Vegas watched him all night. He was accompanied, and his colleagues kept offering him more and more drinks, which he accepted with a smile and downed with a grimace.
The mobster might laugh if he wasn't identifying himself so much.
He was once the figure eager to please. He was once that small form dependent on approval. He was once the teenager getting drunk to forget or to try to fill the void.
Right now, he was at the bar drinking to forget the failure that was the auction. To forget that he didn't have the courage to do what his father told him. He didn't have the courage to drug Porsche. And, even when he put in a lot of effort, he couldn't match Kinn's prices for the damn necklace. It was a total failure. So, yeah, he was at that disgusting bar avoiding, as long as he can, the taste of blood in his mouth, because for sure the alcohol was better.
Then he might as well be distracted by an even more miserable sight.
That night, when the kid left the bar unattended, if Vegas had followed him and escorted his cab home, it was something he would never, in his entire life, talk about to anyone.
He just knew he couldn't keep quiet at night without making sure the teenager was okay. After all, he was a drunk and very vulnerable being, and Vegas couldn't help but think what an easy target he was for this part of town. Then, when the small figure entered the house, he turned the car round and took the way to hell.
⭑⭑⭑
The second time he became aware of that figure, it was at Macau’s school.
He promised his brother that he would pick him up so they could have lunch together, maybe give his little brother the choice between a movie or a fair, just to see the excited smile on that face.
So, as he waited for Macau, looking listlessly at all those rowdy teenagers coming out the front door, he was surprised to find himself with the same curly black hair, petite posture and bright, innocent eyes. He knew he wasn't imagining things, let alone confusing them. He'd spent four straight hours looking at that boy, fuck, Vegas sure could call himself close to that boy so well was his face etched in his mind.
And, damn it, he figured the kid wasn't of legal drinking age, but being in the same school as his brother? What’s the actual chances of that happening?!
"Hia? Hello? Earth to Vegas?" The mobster slowly shifted his gaze from the slender and crestfallen figure, focusing on a completely opposite teenager.
"Hi Cau, sorry." He smiled, wrapping his arms around his brother so he could smell the cologne that sent home.
"Ew, public humiliation, get out, get out!" Laughing, Vegas hugged even tighter.
"You aren't ashamed of me when I pay for your things, aren't you, you brat?"
"What else are big brothers for?" Arched eyebrows and sassy attitude, Vegas could almost leave his brother planted on the high school sidewalk.
"I was going to take you to the fair or the cinema today, but I can see you're not deserving it." He let the information be digested by the air as he put on his helmet.
"What? Oh no, I want to go to the cinema! Hia, please, I've been begging you to see that movie for decades, and you're always busy!"
"Well," he shrugs, passing the helmet to his nong afterward. "I guess we'll have to wait for a stream to see it because I'm not paying anything else."
Macau hastily put on his helmet, a fake cry leaving his lips. "Hiaaa, forgive me."
"Get on that bike, Macau."
In the end, in addition to lunch and tickets, he ended up buying candy and popcorn for the session.
⭑⭑⭑
The third time, he saw him in a photo. It was the damn picture of Porschay Kittisawat. Kittisawat, Porsche's little brother. The family his father had him investigate, claiming that the way Porsche was hired raised some suspicion. That Gun didn't trust Korn is nothing new, but did he really have to arouse suspicion against his brother for even fucking hiring a bodyguard?
Vegas doesn't have a day of peace being the son of who he is.
The little boy was smiling, very different from every time Vegas had seen him. There was a different glow in his eyes, and his hair was a little curlier and longer. The mobster has no idea how his subordinate got that photo, but he spent a good few minutes appreciating it in its entirety. He looked so long at the paper, that even if he closed his eyes he would have the image vivid behind his orbs.
In the end, after a bit more reading, the pieces of why the boy always seems so sad fall into place. He is an orphan, he only has his brother in the family, as his uncle spent all his money on gambling and Kinn had taken care of the bastard. At least that's what his cousin seemed to be good for. Besides, Porschay lived alone in a house filled with memories of the people he loved most. The same people who are no longer part of his life.
Yes, Vegas can understand why he seemed to drink in such a way that he was easily wishing for the end of the world. It was the end of his world.
So after reading all the suffering that boy has been through, he decided that Porschay didn't deserve to suffer anymore. Vegas tore up the photo, and then he burned it. As far as second family knowledge was concerned, Porsche was the only Kittisawat. No, his father would never lay his hands on such an innocent soul. And he would personally ensure that, starting to eliminate whoever brought him the information.
⭑⭑⭑
The fourth time, it was at the main family's house.
He was walking through the garden, putting off meeting his cousin as much as possible. So when he got to Elizabeth and Sebastian's fish pond, he saw him.
Porschay had his back turned, his legs bent on the floor and a guitar leaning against his right leg. A soft melody came through the strings, and an even softer voice sang the song. It was quite an image, and Vegas suddenly felt unworthy of appreciating it. He felt unworthy of taking another step or even making his presence recognizable to the young man. No, Porschay looked so focused, so, for the first time, in peace, that he didn't want to burst that bubble.
Besides, He was a little shocked to find the younger one in the main family's house. What had happened for him to be here? Porsche didn't know it was dangerous? That he could risk his life? It was just a single piece of information passed through the moles that his father had one more advantage over his nephew. Fuck, did Vegas have to do everything around here?
"Are you going to talk to me this time?" He blinked, breaking out of the loop of thoughts. The melody had stopped, and the soft voice was directed towards him, adding an arched brow and sparkling eyes to his image. Vegas nearly held its breath long enough for trained eyes to catch it.
"Sorry?"
"Every time we meet, you give me this mysteriously melancholy look, but you never say anything. So I guess 'sorry?' is the first thing I hear from your mouth." That boy. Despite the innocent face, he didn't have a befitting posture. It actually looked very cheeky. No conscious person on this earth would talk to Vegas the way he was talking.
"Air of mysterious melancholy? What is this? Are we in a cliché movie?" It's his turn to raise his eyebrows.
With a low chuckle, Porschay responds. "I was thinking more about those bad boy characters and book clichés."
"You're hurting my ego."
"I'm not taking back what I said." The teen held up his hands and shrugged.
"Where's the respect for elders?"
"Well, I said what I said." The giggle that came out of those lips could be considered the best sound Vegas had ever heard.
After a few seconds of silence staring at each other, he pointed to the guitar and asked. "What were you playing?"
Porschay looked surprised, and then his cheeks began to redden. "Be my mistake."
"You sing very well."
The boy turned even redder. "Hm…thanks?"
Vegas smirked, couldn't help but admire the flushed form.
"I need to go." Taking a deep breath, he actually admitted that he needed to get out of there to stay sane. Besides, he'd do well to go to the meeting now, or his cousin would throw a tantrum if he took any longer.
"Oh. Okay." Being the very expressive being that he was, the disappointment was clear on Porchay’s delicate face. "I guess I'll see you around?"
"See you around, Porschay." Confirmed. Then, he turned towards the garden exits, not even waiting for the boy's reaction to pronounce his name.
"Wait!" He yelled, breath caught. "You didn't tell me your name."
The older one smiled as he turned around, the typical predator's smile. "Vegas, my name is Vegas."
⭑⭑⭑
They meet again at the mansion. Vegas didn't exactly know why he was there again, it's not like he felt the necessity of looking at any of his cousins' hideous faces. Yet he was still walking through the double doors of that compound, feeling the growing need to get his head to stop the irritant noises. To stop thinking so much. He just wanted to relax, just once in his long, tiring life. Then, he just took the car and drove through the city. When he stopped to pay attention, the compound appeared in his vision. As Vegas had nothing more to do, he guessed it wasn’t that bad to just enter the place.
But apparently, the universe still didn't go easy on his side, as a bodyguard, whose name he didn't make an effort to remember, got in his way into the main room. "Khun Vegas, we didn't expect you here."
"Do I need an appointment to visit my uncle's house?" As a matter of fact, yes, he did. After all, it wasn't a normal family.
The guard seemed to stutter in his seat, dreading having to be the one to announce that he did need to schedule his visit. "Hm... Khun Vegas, you don't..."
Vegas gritted his teeth. "Don't tell me what to do in my own family's house, you idiot."
"I called him here." Letting out a breath, he looked toward the sound of that delicate voice. Standing in the doorway of the room that Vegas was trying so hard to get into, was the reason for all his insomnia. The cause of his restlessness and distraction.
Porschay was standing there, looking just very handsome in an oversized sweater, the sleeves covering his crossed arms, and the slightly furrowed brows that formed furrows in his complexion.
Vegas wasn't a very religious guy, but he could thank the angels of the Lord for such a perfect creature.
"Oh, Khun Porschay, good morning. I didn't know you knew Khun Vegas." The guard looks suspiciously at the two, and the mobster clenches his fist, trying to suppress the urge to be rude to the nosy asshole again. Couldn't this little shit see that he was stopping him from reaching the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?!
"That's because it's none of your business." The brows never ceased to furrow, and the soft tone did not match the words spoken, but Porschay was quite a sight when he was irritated. "Let him through."
"But Khun Porschay, I'm not sure if..."
"Did you really direct the word 'but' to me?" The guard swallowed hard. Vegas, for his part, sat back and enjoyed the show. "I'm not sure how Porsche will react to knowing you doubted my word." Apparently, his cousin didn't know how to keep their four-walled relationship so perfectly, because the bodyguard certainly trembled at his feet.
Sighing in resignation, he gave up. "Alright Khun Porschay, I will return to my post."
A minute of silence passed before he was ready to finally say something. "Well, that was something."
"Sorry about that." Chay looked embarrassed. Vegas wanted to run his hands through the boy’s hair. "Are you here for the meeting?"
The older one arches an eyebrow. "What meeting?"
Porschay laughed. "Then I'm guessing not."
"I came to visit my uncle." The lie came out easily. After telling them so much, sometimes he couldn't even tell if he wanted to verbalize them or not.
"Uncle Korn can wait, right? Come watch a movie with me!" The touch of the delicate hand distinguished much from the roughness that was his hand, and left no room for answers.
Vegas then found himself being pulled onto the sofa, covered in pillows and thin blankets to cover the chill from the air conditioning. The television was paused at the beginning of some movie that he would, certainly, never choose willingly. Porschay sat on the messiest side, and pulled the other's arm to sit down too.
"What were you watching?"
"A romantic Christmas comedy." The older one suppressed the urge to roll his eyes because, in all honesty, he didn't expect anything different from the precious being in front of him. "Don't you dare look at me with that judgmental air. You're sitting here for two whole hours and watching this very happily. Would you like a soda?" He pointed to the second cup on the table, and Vegas stared confusedly at the two pairs of soda cups and bowls of popcorn. Was there anyone here before him? "They were for Porsche, but, you know, the meeting came up and he had to go." Oh. Everything is fine.
"Too bad, I'm not leaving him anything." So Vegas settled down on the couch, trying to be as relaxed as possible. It was okay, he was safe. Somehow he knew that nothing would happen to him as long as he was with Porschay. His father couldn't get here, Kinn wouldn't piss him off, and Porsche, well, Porsche was anyone's guess. In spite of that, Vegas was absolutely sure that he could handle the big Golden Retriever crossed with the Black Cat who was Kinn's chief bodyguard.
"So, just to fill you in," The boy held the remote in his hand, turning fully to face Vegas. "She's a spoiled daddy's girl who's never worked in her life, and she's mad at her dad for creating a position at his company just for her. So, when she goes skiing with her horrible boyfriend, he proposes to her and them..." he didn't even notice as he let the soft voice just enter his ears, echoing throughout his head. He no longer knows what had happened in the film, because spent the entire time staring at the animated way in which Porschay told the plot. Lost in his eyes, the mobster thought about how there could be a being so delicate and bright on this earth, a being who was keeping all of its attention on him. Soon in Vegas. God, let this not be a trick of the Universe, because after all, he might as well deserve a single pure thing in his life.
"P'Vegas!"
"Hi!?" He didn't even stop to process how cute even the honorific sounded in his voice.
"Didn't you hear anything I said?" Caught in the act, Vegas has the decency to stare at the sofa upholstery in a lapse of embarrassment.
"Sorry."
"It's okay if you want to go meet your uncle."
"What? No! I want to watch this movie with you, it's okay." Quick to respond, the eldest wasn't the only one to show a surprised reaction with his answer. "Actually, I was admiring how cute you look talking about what you like." Ew, could he look less cliché?
However, the boy's red cheeks were a delicious sight, and he could handle being a sappy cliché if it resulted in Porschay red with a shy smile on his face every time.
"Okay, let's watch it then, you'll be able to keep up." The mobster murmurs in agreement, and when Chay settles down on the couch to watch the movie, he also settles in with the bowl of popcorn in his lap.
To say that the film was good was... to say the least, far-fetched. Even though Vegas was suspicious to say, this movie still sucked. So no one could blame him for leaning his head against the upholstery and closing his eyes for a little while. And no one could blame him for finally giving in to the tiredness his body fought every night.
"Finally, you silly boy." A soft voice cut through the silence, an even softer smile on his face. "I was wondering how much longer you would hold out." Chay laughs softly, pulling the blanket higher, trying to warm the older one. When Vegas stirs, it's only to snuggle closer to Chay's chest, which in turn causes mixed feelings within the youngest. He's sure Porsche would kill him if he saw this scene, but he couldn't care enough. All that was running through his head at the moment was how peaceful Vegas looked now, without that crease between his brows. So different from what he's always been acting. So beautiful that Porschay almost loses all his breath.
"Chay, you..." the words get lost in Sunan's mouth, his hands stopping in the air as he tries to digest the sight in front of him. Chay, in turn, put a finger to his lips, asking for silence, while the other hand remained pressed to the side of Vegas' head. "Eh, you…you…" The bodyguard alternated his gaze between Chay's face and the peacefully lying form of the mob's number one psycho killer.
Unable to take the stagnant form any longer, Chay rushed into speech. "Sunan, just say what you want."
"Hm, yes, yes…" but he still looked lost in his shock. "I guess I was wondering if you'd like to request Khun Tankhun's presence to watch the movie?"
"Oh no, it's fine. P'Khun wouldn't want to be in the same room as P'Vegas." And he knew it very well. Tankhun was the one who complained the most when Vegas showed up for a meeting, or even when Chay asked more and more questions about the family. The elder cousin's name prevailed when it came to being attacked.
"You're right. I will... eh... I will..."
"Just go, Sunan."
"Have a nice day, sir." Leaving a final bow, the guard hurriedly left the room. Chay just let a low chuckle escape his lips, his attention turning to the movie lost longer ago. No more words were said, and he didn't even need to, he knew Sunan was one of his trusted guards. Right now, he just needed to concentrate on getting rid of the dark circles under his Phi's pretty eyes. All that mattered was the feeling of belonging that filled his guts, after all, Chay had never felt so in peace as he did now.