Chapter Text
Vegas was both surprised and not surprised that Pete was the one who had made it into his office.
From the first time he saw Pete, he had seemed like a permanent fixture in the major clan home. From childhood, Vegas had heard about Pete over family dinners. Korn knew Pete’s grandparents, and did business on their island. His sons had gone with him several times to visit, but Vegas and Macau had never been invited. Not that Vegas cared. Khun liked to gush about the island boy, talking about how cute and sweet he was, and Kinn even had a kind word or two to spare about him. Kim was even more quiet than usual when he was mentioned, sitting with a light blush on his face, which told Vegas enough. If Kim even liked him, what was the kid like?
To Vegas, he just sounded stupid. Why else would he let Khun play with his toys, even after he broke some of them? Why else would he do whatever they wanted, even though it was his home?
Khun would fall back in his chair, cooing about how he just wanted to pinch Pete’s cute, round cheeks, wondering aloud if it would be possible to adopt the boy, until his father asked him to calm himself while Vegas rolled his eyes.
He couldn’t be that cute.
“I want to meet Pete!” Macau would whine when they got home, and Vegas would shush him before their father could overhear and get mad.
“He lives out in the middle of nowhere,” Vegas would argue. He told himself that was why they would never meet Pete, not their lack of an invitation. Did Pete even know the two of them existed, or did the other three want to keep Pete all to themselves?
Years passed, and Vegas had almost forgotten about the island boy, until he passed his cute face on his way into a meeting. He didn’t know who he was, of course, not until the next family meeting, when Khun had loudly bossed Pete around just before the meeting started, asking for hot chocolate. Who drank hot chocolate in summer? Before Vegas could worry too much about his erratic cousin’s choice of beverage, Pete was leaning down into his line of sight asking, “Would you like something to drink, Khun Wegath?”
Pete smelled nice, fresh and clean, and had adorable dimples. Still, Vegas had snarled, giving only a weak glare before waving Pete away. It was likely his imagination, but he thought Pete’s smile had gotten deeper before he stepped away with a curt nod to stand against the wall near Khun. Pete was a perfectly poised guard, his hands crossed in front of him as he stood at attention. Under his thick bangs, his eyes darted carefully around the room, telling Vegas that he was more serious about his work than his appearance made it seem.
What an interesting boy.
Vegas did his best to ignore Pete, hating every time Pete turned that fake smile of his toward him, asking for a task.
Didn’t he know that Vegas was not his owner? Why was he acting like a stray, begging for instruction?
Kinn would take Pete out quite often, and that also caught Vegas’s attention. He was highly trusted. The next time Pete tried to smile at him, Vegas had barely disguised his disgust. Could Pete be any more obvious that he was trying to get close to Vegas so he could run back and tell Kinn anything he could, like the good loyal mutt he was?
Macau had pouted when Vegas told him to stop asking about Pete.
“But he’s so cute,” Macau had said. “He seems nice.”
“He’s a moron,” Vegas snapped, even though he agreed with his brother, and that was the end of that.
At least, that might have been the end of that, if Vegas hadn’t found Pete snooping around his office.
Vegas had Pete brought to his room, where he was chained up for Vegas to play with. He had caught the serious look Pete wore when he watched Vegas do the work only he could do, on the few occasions Vegas had been called in. He hadn’t been showing off for Pete–not at all–but it was nice to have someone appreciate his work. The others just gagged or looked away.
Pete hissed and snarled, even grinning at Vegas as Vegas tried different (much lighter) methods to get him to break. He just didn’t have the heart to really hurt Pete. If it had been any other man, he wouldn’t have hesitated, but something about the way Pete looked at him made him lose his unbridled rage. He decided he would explore other methods to get Pete to cry. When he touched Pete, gently but intimately, he saw something curious change in Pete’s eyes.
Before Vegas could explore that further, his father had called for him, and Vegas had to leave Pete alone.
When he returned, Pete was slumped over, his body leaned against the side of the bed. Whether he was asleep, passed out, or dead, Vegas wasn’t sure.
He certainly hoped that Pete was still alive.
“Pete?” Vegas called gently.
He shook Pete’s shoulders, the chain rattling gently.
After a few more shakes, Pete finally blinked up at him.
“Wha-” Pete moaned, flinching as soon as he realized how close Vegas was.
Vegas gazed down at him, though it wasn’t as coldly as before. Vegas didn’t have as much energy. Torturing, even in a milder form, was hard work, after all. Very mentally taxing, as well.
“You should eat,” Vegas muttered. It didn’t need to be said, and yet, it did.
Vegas brought Pete a fresh salad, and Pete ignored it.
He tried again the next day. Again, Pete ignored it.
By the third day, Vegas yelled at him to eat the fucking thing or have it shoved down his throat.
“You expect me to survive off that rabbit food?” Pete had sighed.
And that was how Vegas found himself standing in his kitchen near midnight, making ramen.
“Ooh,” Macau said, hopping into the room. The visual made Pete’s comment replay in Vegas’s head and he subsequently snorted a laugh.
“Sorry,” Vegas said. “Just thought of something funny.”
Macau gave him a look that bordered on concern, and replied, “Cool story, bro. Are you making a snack, too?”
“Uh, yeah,” Vegas murmured. No one could know about Pete, outside of the few guards who had dragged him into Vegas’s room.
“You’re making ramen?” Macau asked, peering over Vegas’s shoulder. Anyone else might think his face looked flat, nonchalant, but Vegas could read the questions there.
Shrugging casually, he said, “Just thought I’d try something new. It’s quick.”
With his mouth hanging open, Macau nodded. “Well, you put way too much water in. You haven’t added the seasoning yet, right?”
Shit, was he doing it wrong? Vegas shook his head, and Macau picked up the boiling pot to carefully dump almost half the water out before returning it to the burner.
“There. Much better.”
Vegas thanked him, watched as Macau grabbed a small bag of chips to walk off to his room, and finished preparing Pete’s food.
The bowl he had chosen was just barely big enough, so he had to tread carefully as he slipped back into his bedroom. Pete perked up at the sound of the door, his heels skidding on the floor as he backed away. He slept in the bed with Vegas each night, so Vegas didn’t know why he preferred to sit on the floor rather than the bed or the couch.
Seconds later, Vegas saw Pete’s nostril flare as he realized what Vegas had in his hands.
“Come here,” Vegas barked, setting the bowl on the table in front of his couch. Pete’s chain could easily reach the sofa, as well as the bathroom, he just couldn’t get to the door.
Warily, Pete crawled the short distance on his hands and knees, probably too exhausted to stand. His dark brown eyes were wide, his mouth hanging slightly open as he got close to the steaming bowl and took a deep sniff.
It reminded Vegas so much of the mutt he used to feed in the alley near one of his casinos that he reached out to pet the top of Pete’s head. Pete flinched at the first contact, but he stilled as Vegas kept petting him.
Vegas smirked to himself, glad to see that Pete was learning to submit. Things were much easier when he just fucking listened.
His smirk dropped into a frown, however, when Pete still wasn’t eating.
“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you don’t like this either.”
Pete twisted his face, gazing up at Vegas as Vegas stopped petting him. “Did…did you poison this?”
“Poi-” Vegas scoffed, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the fork and took a big bite of the ramen, swallowing quickly to show Pete how stupid he was being. Pete practically snatched the fork from his hand before Vegas even chewed and dove in, his face hovering low over the bowl as he devoured the entire meal in minutes.
Vegas watched him, mildly amused, as Pete wrapped those pretty lips around the rim of the bowl and tilted his head back, eyes closed, as he drank the rest of the broth. Letting out a satisfied smile, Pete carefully set the bowl on the table and leaned his head back against the couch cushion.
“That was perfect,” Pete muttered.
Vegas didn’t volunteer that Macau had helped. Instead, he scooped the bowl up, not wanting to get stabbed with a fork in his sleep, and took it back to the kitchen. When he got back to his room, Pete was already curled up in the bed. Vegas shut off the overhead light, his bedside lamp the only glow left in the room, and slipped his robe off to slide into bed. He was tired. His father had still been taking him to meetings since the work never stopped, but he also had a new pet to take care of. A pet who needed a strong hand.
Propping himself up against the headboard, Vegas said, “Pete. Sit up. You’ll get reflux if you lay down.”
Pete moaned, but he sat up, knowing by now things went easier for him if he obeyed. Just because he could, Vegas pulled Pete to lean against his chest as he picked up the latest book he had been reading.
“Wegath…” Pete protested, though his hands only pushed weakly against him.
With his arm wrapped tightly around Pete’s shoulders, Vegas snapped, “Just sleep.”
He turned the page, though he hardly knew what the previous one had said, and focused on the steady sound of Pete’s breathing.
“Wegath?”
“What now?”
Exhaling slowly, Pete asked, “What are you going to do with me?”
Vegas reached up, petting Pete’s head slowly.
“Well, Pete,” he said, sounding almost kind as he teased him. “I’ll have to kill you soon, won’t I? I can’t just let you go, now can I?”
Pete didn’t respond.
At some point, they fell asleep, but Vegas woke up to the click of a door shutting. At first, he thought that Pete had just gone to the bathroom, but he couldn’t have shut the door with the chain in the way. Vegas sat up, reaching across the bed to find only warm sheets and cold metal.
Pete was gone.
“Motherfucker,” Vegas hissed, jumping out of bed and sliding a pair of boots on. He wanted to grab a gun from his office next door, but there wasn’t time. Pete couldn’t have gotten far. It wasn’t like Vegas could alert the house, that would ruin everything, so he resorted to sneaking out, turning his head both ways. At the end of the hall to his left, he saw the flash of a pale ankle in the moonlight and hurried to follow it.
Pete was faster than he expected, but Vegas managed to catch glimpses of him all the way out to the street. To his surprise, Pete didn’t head directly toward the major clan home. Instead, he sped toward a more deserted area. He was surprisingly quick, barefoot and only in boxers, so it was easy to spot his pale skin as it sank into the darkness. It took Vegas a few minutes to catch up, but the playground looked completely vacant as Vegas made his way through it. Vegas had lost him amidst the various playground equipment, but followed what sounded like a hollow thudding noise.
Vegas took a deep breath, trying to hear something else over the distant rumble of cars. He couldn’t hear anything more, but he did see tracks in the mulch under the swings. He kept moving, and then saw a bloody handprint on the side of a yellow slide. Vegas glanced up, narrowing his eyes at the covered area near the slide’s entrance. It was a shitty hiding place, but he figured Pete must be desperate.
Moving slowly, Vegas began to climb the ladder made for much smaller limbs. Just as the top of his head would be visible, he heard the faintest gasp. Vegas suspected that Pete would try a different exit, and he was right. He jumped off the ladder just after Pete’s feet made contact with the mulch on the other side of the slide.
Pete took off running again, and Vegas hissed, “Goddammit,” before giving chase, ducking under the slide. Pete didn’t glance back, not wanting to slow himself down, and Vegas wished he had brought a taser at the very least, but there hadn’t been time.
He ran faster, seeing that Pete was heading straight for the street and the oncoming traffic.
“Fucking, Pete!” Vegas roared, his eyes going wide as brakes squealed, but not fast enough to avoid clipping Pete. He bounced off the hood of the car rolling to the other side as the car stopped. Vegas narrowly avoided getting hit himself as he rushed to Pete’s side, to tackle him, if he was even still alive.
The driver got out of the car, his eyes wide with panic, as Vegas rolled Pete over onto his back. His eyes were closed, so Vegas slapped his cheek and reached to check his pulse. He was still alive.
“He came out of nowhere!” the driver cried, and another had stopped and was already calling for an ambulance.
Vegas groaned. This was going to be a big fucking mess, and he didn’t want to deal with any of it.
Pete blinked his eyes open, and the driver who had hit him almost collapsed with relief.
Gasping, Pete asked, “Who- Who are you?”
“What?” Vegas balked, momentarily stunned. “What the fuck do you mean? I’m Vegas.”
“Wegath?” Pete repeated, reaching up to cradle his head as he tried to sit up. Vegas was straddling his hips, so Pete could only prop himself up on one elbow as the driver begged him not to get up.
“Vegas,” Vegas said, enunciating more clearly.
“Wegath,” Pete insisted, blinking up at him. Something in his gaze looked different. As Vegas cocked his head to the side, studying him, Pete asked, “Who am I?”
Unable to answer straight away, Vegas cupped Pete’s jaw, making him hiss in pain as he examined him. Sure enough, in the glow from the headlights, Vegas could see that Pete’s head was bleeding.
“Did you hit your fucking head or something, Pete?”
“Pete?” Pete asked, sounding unsure.
“Yeah. You’re Pete. I’m Vegas.”
The ambulance arrived, and Vegas helped Pete to his feet. As soon as the paramedics approached, however, Pete whined and hid himself behind Vegas.
“Pete-” Vegas snapped, trying to grab Pete and push him toward the ambulance.
“Wegath, don’t leave me!” Pete cried, his eyes wide. He blinked, and Vegas could see the tears forming.
With a heavy sigh, Vegas said, “I won’t leave you, just get in the fucking ambulance so they can look you over.”
Vegas didn’t want to waste time with this, but it would bring much more attention to the situation if they just fled the scene.
He jumped, snapped out of his thoughts as Pete grabbed his hand, clinging to him tightly. More cars were stopping now to gawk, so Vegas quickly dragged Pete into the back of the ambulance.
Throughout the whole ride and exam, Pete wouldn’t let go of Vegas’s hand. Vegas just watched Pete’s face, flabbergasted by how his night had turned out. One moment he had been sleeping peacefully with his captive, and the next he was babysitting him in a fucking ambulance.
“Wegath,” Pete whispered.
“I’m here,” Vegas murmured.
Once they were in the hospital, they rushed him to a room, but Pete immediately became frantic upon being separated by Vegas. To keep him calm so they could help him, Vegas stayed close. Instantly, Pete settled, his eyes darting around the room, but always coming back to settle on Vegas.
“Name?” a nurse asked. “We’ll take him back for a scan soon.”
“Uh…” Vegas turned to look at Pete, who looked terrified as he looked back at him. Something about his helplessness made Vegas say, “Pete. Pete Theerapanyakul.”
“That’s my name?” Pete asked, sounding in awe.
Vegas couldn’t remember if he had ever learned Pete’s last name, so he just nodded. That was good enough for now.
“What’s your name?” Pete asked him.
“Vegas, I told you that.”
“No,” Pete insisted. “Your last name.”
Vegas quickly realized his mistake. “Um… Theerapanyakul.”
He watched, irritated, as Pete’s mouth fell open.
“Are…Are we married?”
Vegas shut his eyes for a moment, scratching his forehead as the nurse watched him.
“Uh, yep.”
“Wow,” Pete exclaimed. Turning toward the nurse, he loudly whispered, “He’s so hot.”
The nurse blinked, and Vegas said, “He hit his head pretty hard.”
“Well,” the nurse said. “Let’s make sure you didn’t hit it too hard.”
She took some blood from Pete in a few brightly topped vials, and gave him a small smile as a doctor came in to examine Pete’s head.
He flashed a light in Pete’s eyes, tracked his eye movements, and made Pete squeeze his fingers. Everything seemed in order. As soon as Pete dropped the doctor’s hand, he reached for Vegas’s again.
Vegas sighed, but he gave it, knowing it was just easier.
“So,” the doctor asked kindly, examining Pete’s head injury. “What happened?”
They had put Pete in a hospital gown, but some of his other bruises were still visible. Vegas could tell by the way the doctor glanced at him what he was thinking. He was correct, of course, but Pete didn’t know that.
“He…” Vegas licked his lips, trying to come up with a plausible scenario. The doctor wouldn’t believe it was completely an accident. “We got into a little argument, and he ran out of the house. I was worried, since he didn’t even have shoes, so I chased after him. In trying to run away, he ran out into the road, where a car hit him.”
The doctor looked at Pete for confirmation, but Pete just nodded slowly.
“Do you mind stepping out for a moment? Why don’t you grab a coffee or something.”
Vegas frowned. He knew what the doctor wanted. He wanted to grill Pete about the other injuries.
Pete squeezed his hand, though, not letting him go.
“It was an accident,” Pete said. “I…I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sometimes I can be stubborn, right, Wegath?”
That was the truth, so Vegas didn’t miss a beat as he nodded. “You can be. Which is why I have to keep an eye on you.”
The doctor wasn’t pleased, but he didn’t push it. He cleaned and stitched up Pete’s cut, which wasn’t as bad as Vegas was expecting. He had done much worse to countless other men with just a steel bat.
When the bandage was in place, the doctor said, “Well, I still want to have a scan done, just to be sure everything looks normal.”
Just as he finished speaking, the orderly appeared to wheel Pete down the hall to radiology for an MRI. He whined when he had to let go of Vegas’s hand, but Vegas assured him that he would wait for him. It took several minutes, and Vegas was bored without his phone. He didn’t even have his wallet or anything, so he couldn’t even go get a coffee if he wanted.
Instead, Vegas passed the time wondering just what the fuck he was supposed to do with Pete now. Perhaps he could get him home, and then kill him. That would be the easiest outcome. That thought left an unpleasant taste in his mouth, though.
He just had to play nice for the doctors, and get Pete home. Then he would worry about what to do.
As soon as Pete was wheeled out of the room, he reached for Vegas. Vegas gave his hand automatically, smiling down at Pete. He could play the devoted husband.
They returned to Pete’s room to wait for the results of his tests, and Vegas and Pete were left alone.
Instead of just dropping the act completely, Vegas pulled a chair close to Pete’s bed, taking his hand again as he reached up to gently stroke the unbandaged side of his head.
“How’s your head?”
“Hurts, but not so bad,” Pete replied, gazing sleepily up at Vegas. The nurse had given him some medicine for the pain when she drew his blood, so that had to be working.
“Wegath?” Pete asked, blinking up at him. “What happened?”
“I told you, sweetheart. We had a fight. You ran. I ran after you, and you got hit by a car.”
Pete blinked again, his eyelids heavy. “Do we fight a lot?”
“Never,” Vegas said, grinning. “Which is why I was so surprised.”
“What did we fight about?”
That stumped Vegas for a moment. He and Pete had bickered over the past several days that he had been held captive, but Vegas couldn’t really call any of it a fight. Sometimes it felt oddly like flirting. Well, there had been a little torture, but that also couldn’t really be classified as a fight. Pete had tried, but he hadn’t stood a chance in the end.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Vegas said after a moment. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“When did we get married?” Pete asked, and Vegas hoped the drugs were strong enough to just knock him out. He was asking so many damn questions.
“Uh, just a few days ago. Private ceremony.”
Pete hummed, glancing toward the ceiling. Vegas wondered if he was trying to picture it.
Before he could ask anything else, Vegas leaned down and pecked a kiss to Pete’s forehead. “Just get some rest, baby. I’ll sit here with you.”
Vegas watched as Pete finally closed his eyes, looking content as Vegas patted his head gently. Pete drifted off and didn’t even wake when the doctor came back in with all of his test results.
“Pete,” Vegas whispered, nudging his shoulder until he stirred.
Pete’s eyes were wide again when they found his, and for a moment Vegas wondered if he had been forgotten again. Either forgotten, or remembered, but then Pete relaxed upon recognizing Vegas.
The doctor gave a wan smile, and then said, “Your results all came back normal. No evidence of a concussion, either. Are you having any other symptoms? The nurse said you were a little disoriented when you came in.”
“No,” Pete lied. “I’m fine. Thank you, doctor.”
They were discharged, and Pete was wheeled out to the front door, still holding Vegas’s hand. Vegas, along with the assistance of the orderly, helped Pete to stand. Pete still looked exhausted. They had given him a plain shirt to wear over his boxers, so at least his chest was covered as Vegas hailed them a cab. In the backseat, Pete curled up against him, closing his eyes.
They reached the minor clan home, and Vegas waved a guard over to pay the cabbie, promising to reimburse him later. Vegas narrowed his eyes at the entrance as the cab pulled away. The guards were staring wide-eyed at Pete, who was still clinging to Vegas.
“Where were you earlier?” Vegas barked. “Pete made it out of the house without any of you noticing.”
The guards averted their gaze, but one finally stepped forward and said, “Sorry, Khun Vegas. We got a little distracted playing cards. It was so late, so we didn’t think-”
“You didn’t,” Vegas agreed. “Don’t let it happen again.”
With that, he put an arm around Pete’s shoulder to guide him back up to his room.
Before Vegas entered, he remembered the chains and empty cuff. Fuck.
“Pete. Stand right here for a moment. Don’t move. I’ll be right back for you.”
Pete nodded, though he looked uncertain. Still, he obeyed, releasing Vegas.
He quickly loosed the chain from its anchor, dropping it into an empty desk drawer. If he was going to have to play house with Pete, at least for a while, a chain was too much for him to explain away. On the floor, he found one of his leather belts, which Pete must have used to spring the lock on the cuffs. Clever bastard.
He was straightening up after tossing that into the back of his wardrobe when Pete rushed into the room, looking frantic.
“Someone was coming,” Pete explained. “I don’t know why, but I got scared. I feel like they aren’t supposed to see me.”
“Okay,” Vegas said. He was exhausted, but Pete was too filthy to crawl into bed. “You’re right to stay in here. Let’s get you in the bath, then we can go to bed.”
Pete was obedient, following Vegas to the bathroom as he looked curiously around the room. Although Vegas was hyper-aware of the fact that Pete was unchained in his room, he wasn’t concerned. Pete might remember something at any moment, for all he knew, but for some reason he still didn’t think Pete would hurt him. There had been a few times that Pete could have hurt him already–hell, he could have strangled Vegas with the chain as they shared the same bed the last several nights–but he hadn’t. Vegas didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to look at it too hard.
Pete hadn’t gone down easily, but Vegas hadn’t been wounding him to maim or kill, either. There was something so empowering about having Kinn’s most trusted guard in his hands. At some point, he stopped caring enough to hurt Pete. Pete had been mouthy with him, but Vegas had started to find it almost amusing. Sure, he had said that he would kill Pete, and part of him knew that was the only option he really had, but the idea didn’t thrill him. It was disappointing. Again, Vegas chose not to examine that too closely.
There hadn’t been time, because he had woken up to Pete trying to run away.
He watched Pete, who licked his dry lips and gazed up at Vegas shyly through his lashes.
“Aren’t you going to undress?” Vegas asked.
“That’s, um,” Pete murmured. “Sorry, but it feels weird.”
“Get used to it, sweetheart,” Vegas purred, amused as he reached to lift Pete’s shirt over his head. Whether it was from the chill or some strange sense of modesty, Pete covered his chest with his arms. Vegas waited until the water was high enough, then shut off the tap. When he turned back around, Pete had already slipped his boxers off and was sliding into the tub.
Still, he used his hands to cover himself.
Vegas tilted Pete’s face toward him, frowning at the bandage.
“I’ll have to wash your hair for you so we don’t get your bandage wet.”
Pete nodded, letting Vegas shift him around. He closed his eyes as Vegas lathered his hair, gently scratching Pete’s scalp.
Since Pete couldn’t see him, Vegas let himself smile. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” Pete murmured.
Vegas rinsed his hair, then carefully conditioned the ends. When his hair was done, he lathered up Pete’s body as best as he could. As he dragged the cloth between Pete’s legs, Pete blushed dark red. It spread to the tips of his ears, and Vegas thought for a moment that Pete was even cuter than he had previously realized.
He hadn’t had time to notice before, with how difficult Pete had been. This obedient little pet was much easier to manage.
Pete was clean enough, so Vegas drained the water and grabbed a towel to dry Pete off. Then, he realized he needed to find more clothes for Pete. Pete could wear his, of course, but he would probably wonder where all of his belongings were.
He found a soft pair of gray sweatpants and helped Pete into them as Pete yawned again.
It was almost dawn, but Vegas didn’t care. He got Pete into the bed, then turned off his alarm and crawled in after him. This had begun to feel normal for him, except for the fact that Pete shifted closer to cuddle with him. Usually, it was Vegas holding tightly onto Pete’s waist from behind as Pete tried to move as far away from him as possible. This was much nicer.
He let the panic over Pete being loose run through him again and dissipate. Pete wasn’t trying to get away.
“Wegath?” he called softly in the darkness. “Why do I have so many bruises?”
Vegas tightened his hold on Pete, though not enough to cause discomfort.
“You’re a bodyguard, Pete.”
“A bodyguard? Am I your bodyguard? Is that why the other guards were looking at me like that?”
Not wanting to answer question after question, Vegas decided a bedtime story was in order. As much as he wanted to come up with some detailed fabrication, sticking closer to the truth with some necessary revisions was infinitely easier, and easier to remember.
“You were my cousin’s bodyguard, Pete. Kinn. You also worked for his older brother, Tankhun. You weren’t just any bodyguard, though. You were a head bodyguard. Very trusted.”
Pete tilted his face up to look at him, and Vegas stroked over his cheek with his thumb as he looked into Pete’s eyes in the dim light from the rising sun.
And why couldn’t Vegas have some of the fantasy as well? With the way Pete was gazing at him, so trusting and adoring, the next words Vegas spoke felt accurate, felt right.
“Even though you worked for my cousin, who hates me, we fell in love. We ignored it for years, but we couldn’t stop thinking about each other. So we eloped. I stole you, and we got married in secret.”
“Who made the first move?” Pete asked sleepily. “I doubt it would have been me, I was just a guard.”
Vegas grinned, pulling Pete over him to rest on his chest. The burgeoning light from the window cast flecks of caramel in Pete’s eyes, and Vegas paused to just admire them for a moment.
“You used to follow me around everywhere. I think you enjoyed watching me. But, you’re right. It was I who made the first move.”
As if to prove his point, Vegas reached a hand down to paw at the swell of Pete’s ass where it met his lower back. Pete frowned, revealing his dimple, but he didn’t move Vegas’s hand away.
“So my husband is a pervert,” Pete muttered, and Vegas laughed aloud. The sound made Pete smile, and Vegas was surprised, and yet not, by how much he wanted to kiss Pete at that moment.
Vegas had noticed Pete, had been jealous over Pete to some degree, but he detested how fake Pete was. It wasn’t until Vegas had forced Pete’s mask off, removing his own in the process, that he felt like he truly got to see Pete. They bickered, but they had also talked. He figured, just within those few days, he got to know Pete better than Kinn or Khun ever had, even if Vegas didn’t know his last name.
That sent a thrill through Vegas. Now, the major clan’s beloved guard was calling him husband. Vegas wondered if perhaps he had been the one to hit his head. It all felt so unreal.
Then, Pete asked, “Why were we fighting if we just got married? Why did I run away?”
He pursed his lips, and if he had been any closer, Vegas would have assuredly kissed him. Instead, Vegas moved the hand still groping Pete to interlock their fingers.
“You were upset that we still didn’t have wedding rings. I told you that my father doesn’t know about us, and it’s dangerous to tell him. I need some time before I break the news to him. That’s why you have to stay in my room, Pete. It’s not safe for you out there. But you wanted reassurance that I was yours.”
“You came after me,” Pete whispered.
“Of course, I did. You’re mine.”
Pete hummed, seemingly satisfied at that, and rested his cheek on Vegas’s chest, yawning again.
Pete closed his eyes, and Vegas rubbed his back between his shoulder blades until he fell asleep.
Vegas’s shirt was slightly damp where Pete had drooled a little, but he couldn’t even bring himself to be upset about it. Pete was still there when he woke up. Pete hadn’t run away again.
What a loyal pet he was turning out to be.
Vegas let himself lay there for several minutes, running his fingers through Pete’s soft hair. Pete was undoubtedly cute. Perhaps Vegas should just keep him, after all. He could draft up a marriage license, and make it official. Then what could Kinn do?
With a sigh, Vegas turned to stare at his ceiling. That would be insane.
Then again, he never had been accused of being sane.
He shifted, and Pete hummed, annoyed, at being moved.
“Come on, Pete,” Vegas said. “We can’t sleep the whole day away.”
“Wegath,” Pete groaned. Shielding his eyes with his hands, he let himself be moved to Vegas’s side.
Despite himself, Vegas instantly missed the warm weight of Pete, so he curled toward him on his side as Pete struggled to wake up.
“What do you want to eat?” Vegas asked, curling his fingers around Pete’s soft waist.
Pete hummed, then he blinked up at Vegas. He looked surprised, and Vegas once more wondered if Pete had remembered something.
“What…what do I like?”
To tamp down his spike of anxiety, Vegas threw his leg over Pete to straddle him.
“You like spicy curry.”
“I do?” Pete smiled. “That sounds right.”
“It is,” Vegas replied confidently. Pete had complained a lot about wanting spicy curry, so Vegas knew it was right. “You’re from the south.”
Smirking, Vegas kissed Pete’s cheek.
“Wegath…”
“Vegas. Say my name, Pete.”
Pete frowned, pursing his lips, and Vegas leaned again to kiss his dimple. He had never been so affectionate with anyone before, not like this. Vegas liked Pete’s warmth, though. He had gotten used to Pete’s scent, spending several nights with his nose pressed against Pete’s neck or his shoulder.
It perhaps should have frightened him, how eagerly he fell into his role as Pete’s husband, but Vegas had always been starved for affection.
He moved his mouth to Pete’s jaw, to just below his ear, to his neck, and Pete giggled. Vegas wanted to hear him again, so he sucked in a deep breath, ballooning his cheeks, and blew a raspberry loudly to the side of Pete’s neck. Sure enough, Pete squealed and wriggled, trying to get away. Vegas wanted to keep playing with him, but Pete’s stomach growled loudly.
With a patient sigh, Vegas crawled off of him, letting Pete sit up in the bed.
“Let me shower, and I’ll go get us some food. You can have the bathroom first, though.”
“Okay,” Pete said, “Wegath.” Vegas shook his head as Pete made his way to the bathroom. It amused Vegas to hear Pete whisper Vegas’s name to himself, getting closer and closer to saying it right with each try.
When he emerged a few minutes later, Vegas showered quickly, still anxious about returning to his room to find Pete had vanished again. Instead, Pete was walking around the room, peering at Vegas’s shelves. He had found a soft shirt and thrown that on, and had tossed a sweater over it as well. Seeing Pete wearing his clothes, snooping through his room like he belonged there, made Vegas’s chest swell with warmth.
“How’s your head feeling?” Vegas asked, making Pete jump.
Vegas had stepped out of the bathroom with his towel wrapped around his waist, and had reveled in how Pete quickly averted his gaze when he turned around to face him.
“Oh,” Pete said, his ears turning pink again, “Better. I just have a headache.”
Vegas scowled. He wanted to keep teasing Pete, to see what would happen, but he didn’t like that Pete was hurting.
It was strange. He didn’t mind it as much when he had been the one hurting Pete. He had been in control. He had chosen how much pain to dole out, and where. This was different, somehow.
Strolling back into the bathroom, Vegas grabbed some medicine out of the cabinet, then grabbed a water bottle from his small fridge in his room. When he came back to Pete, he was sitting on the sofa, waiting patiently.
Good boy, Vegas thought. He offered the pill with one hand, then the water with the other. Too late, he realized he should have just used his own mouth to transport the medicine. Pete swallowed the pill dutifully, and drank almost half the water, setting the bottle on the table when he was done.
“Will this make me sleepy?”
“It might. Just stay in here until I get back. You can read a book or something to pass the time.”
Pete nodded, ducking his head as he stood and brushed past Vegas. Vegas wanted to chase after him, but instead he went to the wardrobe to get dressed while Pete went back to perusing the shelves.
It was still strange to see Pete, untethered, walking freely around the room. There was still a small spike of anxiety, but it dimmed the more Pete made no attempt at escape. How long could they keep up this ruse? Would Kinn come looking for him eventually?
It would be unfortunate for him if he did, because Vegas wasn’t planning on giving him back. Kinn deserved it, he told himself, for sending Pete on such a dangerous mission alone. Pete was exceptional, but it had been imprudent of Kinn. And all because of Porsche.
Vegas had been intrigued by Porsche, because Kinn so obviously was, but he hadn’t spared him a second thought once he had gotten his hands on Pete.
With his back still turned to him, Pete asked, “What…What type of husband am I?”
Vegas finished buttoning the few buttons he deemed necessary for interacting with the general public and tilted his head to the side, wondering what exactly Pete was asking. When Pete didn’t move, Vegas finished tucking in his shirt and crossed the room to crowd up against Pete’s back. Pete’s head was bowed, leaving his neck exposed, so Vegas pressed his lips against Pete’s skin, though he wanted to sink his teeth in.
“What do you mean?”
Pete sighed, twisting to lean back against the shelf as Vegas pressed even closer, slotting their legs together.
“I mean…I’m not sure how I’m supposed to act,” Pete murmured. “Am I bold? Am I shy? How do you want me to be?”
Vegas frowned. “Pete, I don’t want you to be anything. Just be mine. Stay with me. You can act however you want.”
Pete blinked, but then a slow, teasing smile bloomed on his face. He grazed the tip of one finger over Vegas’s exposed chest, bringing both arms up to drape them experimentally over Vegas’s shoulders.
“Are you scared?” Vegas had surprised himself with the question, but now that it was out, he genuinely wanted to know. He couldn’t imagine not knowing anything about himself or anyone around him. It had to be terrifying.
“Not really,” Pete replied, shrugging as he carded his fingers through the short hair at the nape of Vegas’s neck.
“Why not?”
Pete shrugged again. “Something about you felt familiar. Your face. Your eyes. When you said your name, I thought, ‘Ah, that’s right.’ Something about you just feels safe to me.”
Vegas wanted to scoff at how wrong that statement was, but then Pete’s eyes darted to his mouth and he was leaning forward. If Pete wanted to kiss him, then Vegas certainly wouldn’t refuse.
“Vegas,” Pete whispered, but before their lips could touch, his stomach let out a loud grumble that made him groan and Vegas laugh.
Kissing the tip of Pete’s cute, upturned nose, Vegas said, “That’s my cue, baby. I’ll be right back.”
He tried not to linger on how reluctant Pete seemed to let him go, instead focusing on getting back with food as fast as possible so perhaps they could pick up where they left off.
Vegas held his head high as he found the closest place selling curry. He got several portions of the spiciest stuff they had, as well as something much milder for himself. Telling himself that Pete would be waiting for him, like the loyal pet he was, Vegas hurried back to his room.
He paused outside of his room. The door wasn’t all the way latched. He knew he had closed it securely before he left, because he had thought about whether or not he should lock Pete in. He hadn’t, and someone had opened the door before he could get back.
Nudging the door open lightly with his foot, Vegas hurried inside.
“Hia!” Macau called, and Vegas exhaled. Sitting on the sofa next to Macau was Pete.
“Macau, I thought I told you to stay out of my room.”
Macau huffed. “Well, I didn’t. But imagine my surprise at finding Pete here.”
“Macau said he was your brother,” Pete explained quickly. “I hope it’s okay that I let him in.”
Setting the food on the table, Vegas nodded. “Macau is okay. But no one else. And certainly not my father. If you hear him coming, you hide, hear me?”
Pete swallowed, but agreed that he would. Then, Pete closed his eyes and smelled the curry. He plopped himself on the floor by the table and Vegas could practically see his mouth watering.
“You dig in, baby. I need to have a word with Macau.”
“Aw,” Macau said, digging his heels in as Vegas shoved him out of the room. “See you later, P’Pete.”
“Bye, Macau,” Pete said with a wave, his eyes already darting back to the food.
Vegas stepped into the hall with Macau, making sure there weren’t any guards around and lowering his voice as he said, “What did you say to Pete?”
“Nothing,” Macau insisted. “I just said I was surprised to see him, then I noticed the bandage and asked if he was okay.” Macau leaned in closer and asked, “You didn’t-”
“No,” Vegas said quickly, shaking his head. The head wound wasn’t his doing, at least. Macau didn’t need to know about the rest. “He ran out last night and got hit by a car.”
“Shit,” Macau whispered. “But Hia, why is he here? He said…he said you two got married?”
Vegas inhaled slowly, glancing back toward his door.
“He hit his head, Cau. He didn’t even remember who he was.”
“No shit,” Macau replied, rolling his eyes. “It took me a second to calm him down when I walked in, but I told him I was your little brother and he relaxed.”
“Did he say anything else?”
“Just that you were fucking married, Hia.”
Damn. Vegas was hoping Macau would have moved on from that.
Macau gave Vegas a smile, then wrapped him in a tight hug.
“I’m happy for you, Hia. I don’t know how the hell it happened, but you deserve someone great like Pete. I’ll only accept him as a brother-in-law.”
Vegas knew he needed to clarify that he and Pete weren’t married, but he didn’t want to ruin it for Macau. The kid seemed genuinely excited.
“Thanks, Cau,” Vegas said, patting Macau’s back. Macau turned to leave, but Vegas called, “Hey, if I need to head out over the next few days, would you mind hanging out with Pete? You can do homework in my room or something.”
“Sure,” Macau smiled.
“Thanks. I think he would like the company.”
Vegas slipped back into his room, laughing when he saw Pete blink up at him, his cheeks protruding as he momentarily paused his chewing. He looked insanely cute, so Vegas took a seat beside him, cupping Pete’s round face as he hurriedly swallowed the food in his mouth. As much as he wanted to kiss Pete, he felt like it would be the equivalent to getting maced in the mouth, so Vegas kissed his forehead instead.
“You do that a lot,” Pete said. “Kiss me.”
Vegas froze for a moment as he reached for his own food. “Oh. Does it bother you?”
“No,” Pete said quietly. “It’s nice.”
“Sorry if Macau startled you,” Vegas said gently as Pete took another bite.
“He was really nice. I hope it’s okay that I talked to him.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. I should have just introduced him to you, but I hadn’t gotten around to that yet.”
“Have I known him for a long time?”
Vegas scoffed. This was easier to be honest about. “We’ve known about you since we were little kids.”
Pete’s eyebrows shot up, so Vegas leaned back against the couch, his empty plate forgotten temporarily.
“You’ve known our cousins since you were young, but Macau and I never got invited to visit your island. Macau used to cry that he wanted to meet you, too. He’s always liked you, I think.”
Pete lowered his gaze for a moment, then turned back to meet Vegas’s eyes.
“That must have hurt, being left out.”
Vegas’s mouth fell open, but he didn’t know what to say. It had bothered him, yes, but no one had acknowledged that Vegas should have even had feelings about that. He was just meant to move on.
“It did,” he finally admitted. “I…I wanted to meet you, too.”
“Well,” Pete said with a pretty smile. “I’m glad I’m meeting you now.”
Vegas stifled a laugh, shaking his head as he turned to load up his plate. Pete watched him, eating more slowly now, as Vegas took a bite.
When Pete was done, he sat back with a sated sigh. Vegas had quite enjoyed eating with Pete. They had talked, and he did his best to answer any other questions Pete had. Pete seemed more curious to get to know Vegas, though. With each bite, Vegas felt himself opening up more and more, sharing things that he never thought he would ever share with anyone. There were things about his mother that he couldn’t even tell Macau, but he managed to say them to Pete.
When they were both done eating, Vegas brushed his teeth and went to put their leftovers in the fridge.
When he turned around, his father was glaring at him.
“Pa.”
Kan luckily didn’t step closer. With a furrowed brow he snapped, “You’ve fucked up the deal with the gold mine.”
Vegas reeled. He had done everything his father had told him to, and then some. The decisions on everything had come directly from his father, regardless of his input. If the deal fell through, that wasn’t Vegas’s fault.
“I have to go all the way and try to fix your mess. I’ll be gone for a few days at least, so try not to fuck anything else up in the meantime.”
Vegas could only hang his head and nod wordlessly.
With a disappointed scoff, his father was gone, and Vegas trudged back up to his room.
When he stepped inside, Pete wasn’t there. That, coupled with the anxiety his father had stoked in him, sent Vegas over the edge.
“Pete?”
“Vegas?” Pete answered, taking a half step backward out of the bathroom. He was patting his face with a towel, so he quickly finished and hurried over to see what was wrong. Vegas met him halfway across the room, wrapping his arms around Pete’s waist as he pressed the side of his face against Pete’s chest.
He could still smell the spice from Pete’s curry, mixed with toothpaste and his face wash. Underneath all of that, though, he could smell Pete.
Vegas’s hands shook a little as he pushed up the sweater and shirt, pulling them off of Pete so he could wrap around him again, this time pressing his face directly into Pete’s skin. There, his scent was much stronger, and Vegas felt like he could breathe again.
“Vegas?” Pete whispered, wrapping his arms around Vegas’s head. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, Vegas exhaled slowly.
“Sorry, I just…My father was upset with me again, and then I thought…I thought you were gone.”
There was a pause, and then Vegas felt Pete press a kiss to the top of his head.
“Where would I go? You’re the only person I know. Well, you and Macau.”
Vegas smiled sadly. “You’re right. You wouldn’t leave your husband, would you?”
“Never,” Pete whispered, and for a moment, Vegas let himself believe it.
Pete was his, and Pete would stay. His mother hadn’t stayed, and neither had the nanny he had when he was small, but Pete would be different.
Maybe, if he tried using this fresh start, he could get Pete to fall in love with him for real, and then it wouldn’t matter if Pete got his memories back.
“Does your father criticize you a lot?”
Vegas gave Pete another tight squeeze before he leaned back, keeping his arms around Pete’s bare waist. Staring into Pete’s eyes, he nodded.
“I did everything he asked. I put in extra hours, extra work, but what he asked for didn’t work. Still, he blamed me.”
Pete winced, and Vegas worried for a moment that he had squeezed one of his bruises too hard, or perhaps Pete’s head was still hurting. Before he could ask, Pete reached up to card his fingers through Vegas’s hair, his wince settling into a frown.
“I don’t like that he hurts you. You said I was a bodyguard. Perhaps I can be yours now. I’ll protect your body, and I’ll protect your heart.”
Vegas’s breath caught in his throat, and then he was rushing forward, pressing his lips against Pete’s. His mouth was warm and tasted like mint. Pete let out a surprised hum, but Vegas only moved to take a quick breath, meeting Pete’s eyes as he cupped his jaw and swooped in for another, deeper, kiss.
Pete kissed him back with just as much desperation, just as much gentleness. As much as Vegas would have loved to take things further, Pete was still injured, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. Just because Pete believed they were married, he didn’t automatically feel comfortable even being nude around Vegas. He would let him warm up to that. For now, kissing was nice. It was more than nice.
Vegas’s heart was pounding in his chest, but his soul felt at ease as he closed his eyes, letting Pete scatter kisses like freckles over his face.
“There’s one good thing he said,” Vegas said finally. “He’s going to be gone for days. That means you don’t have to be cooped up in my room, though I don’t want you to leave the house without me.”
“Does that mean I can leave the house with you?”
Vegas thought about it. It wouldn’t be that bad, he supposed. It might be nice. Maybe they could go out on a date. Pete needed some clothes and things, anyway.
“Let’s go out tomorrow, sweetheart.”
Pete grinned, making his eyes almost disappear, and Vegas couldn’t help but kiss him again.
He let Pete put his top back on, since he did like to keep it rather cold in his room, and then changed Pete’s bandage, making sure to clean it carefully. The stitches looked good, and most of the swelling had gone down already, but Vegas still gave him some more medicine.
“Will I have a scar?”
Vegas hummed, slightly distracted by Pete’s hand gripping his hip.
“A little one, I think. It’s only a few stitches, and you won’t be able to see it under your bangs.” Pete still looked a little put out, so Vegas added, “Either way, scars are hot.”
Pete rolled his eyes at that, pushing Vegas away. “Shut up.”
“They are.”
Pete blinked, but the movement was slow. All of his movements seemed sluggish.
“Do you want to take a nap?” Vegas asked gently.
Pete shook his head. “I’m having fun spending time with you.”
Vegas frowned. He liked spending time with Pete, too. But Pete needed a nap. He was still healing, after all.
“Then let’s take a nap together.”
Pete gave him a look, but he nodded, covering a yawn with his hand.
Vegas wrestled him into the bed, smiling again as Pete curled around him, slotting their legs together. Soon enough, they were both asleep.
Vegas woke up that evening to Pete staring down at him with a soft smile on his face. He had been touching Vegas’s bangs, and Vegas hated that he stopped. It still struck him as so odd, how easily he fell into this with Pete. Vegas had never been one for serious relationships. The only person he was close to was Macau, but that was different. Macau was blood. They would always be together, in one way or another. A partner could leave him, or betray him.
Pete could still betray him, he made himself remember. He could regain his memories, and either kill Vegas, or run back to Kinn and his friends.
But then, Pete leaned down and kissed Vegas’s temple, and all of his worries were forgotten. There was just something different about Pete. Perhaps it was how expressive he was. Vegas felt like he could read Pete like an open book, so he didn’t feel like Pete was hiding anything from him.
“Husband?” Pete whispered with a grin, and that sent a pleasant shiver up Vegas’s spine. “Should we have dinner with Macau tonight? Your father is gone, right?”
The fact that Pete was thinking about Macau made Vegas even happier. Instead of fumbling with words, Vegas leaned up and kissed Pete, rubbing his fingers over the shell of Pete’s ear as he felt it grow warm.
“Marry me,” Vegas said when they pulled away. It seemed an arbitrary request, but Vegas felt something settle into his core. He would marry Pete, and he would build a new life with him. He would take care of him, because Pete needed him. He would do whatever he needed to do to appease his father, but he no longer craved his father’s approval as much as he wanted to see Pete smile at him every single day.
Pete blinked, his warm eyes going wide. “I thought we were already married.”
“But it’s not fair if you don’t remember. Let’s do it again.”
“But we can’t marry if we’re already married.”
Vegas exhaled, taking Pete’s wrist in his hand to press a kiss to his rapid pulse.
“What if…what if we never legally filed it? We had a private ceremony, just us. But it wasn’t legally binding. So let’s make it official. Let’s go to the Amphur.”
Pete opened his mouth, turning his face to the side, and Vegas felt sick. Was Pete going to say no? Would he leave, now that he knew he wasn’t legally bound to Vegas?
“I don’t know where my paperwork is, Vegas. I don’t even know my last name, if it’s not the same as yours.”
Fuck. Vegas hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“I can get it. I think I can find it for you.”
“Should I go with you? What if something helps me remember?”
Vegas frowned. He knew walking into the major clan home with Pete, who had been missing for days, would be signing his own death wish.
“I better go alone. I’ll take you there later. After we get married.”
“Okay,” Pete said, though he sounded a little unsure.
“You will marry me, won’t you, Pete?”
Pete cupped Vegas’s face, his cheeks turning pink as he looked into Vegas’s eyes.
“I may be insane for this, but yes, I’ll marry you, Vegas.”
Vegas’s grin was impossibly wide as he leaned in to kiss Pete again.
“I’ll get your papers tonight. After dinner. We can go first thing in the morning.”
Pete nodded, crawling into Vegas’s lap as he kissed him again. It didn’t take Vegas long to realize what Pete wanted.
“Pete,” Vegas breathed against his neck as Pete ground himself down into Vegas’s lap. “Pete, wait.”
Leaning back to meet his gaze sharply, Pete whined, “Vegas, could you love me?”
Vegas’s hands had been resting on Pete’s soft waist, but he moved them to cup the fullness of Pete’s ass, bringing him rocking forward in his lap.
Pete let out a soft gasp as he felt Vegas’s growing hardness under him.
“Sweetheart, I already do.”
Vegas had thought once that he was in love with Porsche. He had believed it. He thought he was willing to do anything to win Porsche over, but that felt like dandelions in a breeze, gone to never be seen again. Pete was solid in his lap, Pete was gazing at him with adoration like Vegas had never seen before. He was begging Vegas to keep him.
“Pete, can I keep you forever? Do you promise never to leave me? No matter what?”
The corners of Pete’s mouth lifted, and Vegas swore he had only seen a smile that twisted on his own face, after smashing a mirror with his fist after a particularly nasty fight with his father. Vegas had sworn then that he would do anything in his power to prove his father wrong. He had felt powerful, for that moment, and Pete looked the same.
“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” Pete growled, and then Vegas was flipping them over. Pete let out a soft giggle, which was stifled as Vegas found his mouth again.
He needed more. He needed to touch.
“Pete, can I?” Vegas begged, pleaded, and he almost keened when Pete nodded, kissing him again.
He reached into Pete’s pants, gripping him tight. Pete’s mouth fell open, and Vegas moved to kiss his jaw and neck. He half-expected Pete to let him take the lead, but he was happy when Pete shoved him so they were both on their sides, facing one another, so he could reach into Vegas’s pants as well.
Vegas’s eyes squinted shut for a moment as Pete began to stroke him. Luckily, he opened them in time to see Pete remove his hand to lick his palm messily before reaching for Vegas again.
“Wait,” Vegas said, more for Pete than himself. Moving only as far away as he needed, he grabbed a bottle of lube out of the bottom of his drawer and quickly poured some in each of their hands.
The gel was cool, but it quickly warmed with the slide of their hands.
“Ah,” Pete moaned, and Vegas wanted him to make more sounds. He wanted him to be louder. “Vegas.”
He kissed Pete again, then exhaled hotly against Pete’s neck as he inhaled his scent.
“Fuck, Pete, fuck. Yes, like that.”
Pete was gripping him tightly, twisting over the head of his cock with each pass. Vegas wanted Pete’s mouth, he wanted Pete’s cock in his mouth, he wanted to fill Pete to the hilt and make him come again and again until he was crying and begging for mercy.
With each breath, Pete was making a little whimpering sound, his hand fisting in Vegas’s hair as he thrust madly into Vegas’s grip.
Vegas dragged his teeth over Pete’s jaw, then found his mouth again, muffling their moans as they kissed, open-mouthed and messy. Vegas never wanted to stop kissing Pete, never wanted to stop touching him.
Suddenly, Vegas felt his orgasm quickly approaching. Pete was rubbing his thumb over Vegas’s tip, but before Vegas could focus too much on that, Pete was coming all over his fingers as his jaw wrenched open in a silent cry.
Vegas wanted to crawl between Pete’s teeth, letting Pete’s incisors tear him to pieces so he could live in Pete forever.
With a soft, “Pete,” Vegas was coming, his body curling in on itself until he pressed against Pete’s body.
Pete giggled again, grinning madly at Vegas as the both fell onto their backs. Gazing back at him in wonder, Vegas found himself laughing too. He had never felt such rapture with a bedroom partner before.
“We should shower,” Pete said after a moment. “Before dinner.”
“Oh,” Vegas said. “Yeah.” He had forgotten about dinner. He had forgotten about everything. “After we get dressed, let me just make sure Pa is gone before we go down to dinner.”
“Okay,” Pete said, his expression more somber.
Ignoring the mess in his hand, and the fact that both of their pants were still shoved down and messy, Vegas leaned over to press his lips against Pete’s.
They showered together, kissing lazily as they cleaned one another, with Vegas helping to keep Pete’s bandage away from the water. He was happy that Pete seemed infinitely less shy than he had before. He was also much bolder, pulling Vegas’s naked body against his own easily.
Vegas had noticed Pete, but he had never thought in his wildest dreams that Pete would be like this.
As he gave Pete some clean clothes to wear, he said, “I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, too.”
Pete looked good in his silk shirts, but Vegas was curious to see what clothes Pete would pick for himself. He had only seen him in plain clothes a few times, since Pete was almost always in his bodyguard uniform. Vegas would burn that suit. Pete didn’t need to wear it ever again. He would be pampered, spoiled. He could wear anything he liked, and Vegas knew he would look stunning.
After cleaning Pete’s wound and changing his bandage again, Vegas found his guard Nop and double-checked that his father and the men close to his father had left.
“And Nop?” Vegas said. “I need you tomorrow morning. Wear something nice.”
“Yes, Khun Vegas,” Nop said with a brisk nod.
Macau could be Vegas’s witness, but Pete would need one as well. Nop would do.
Vegas collected Pete, who smiled warmly at him, and threaded their fingers together as he led him to the dining area. It would signal clearly to any guards they came across that Pete was his.
They were dressed softly, since Vegas’s father wasn’t home. He liked to look good, but with Pete, he wanted to wear something that would feel nice when Pete touched him.
Macau’s eyes went comically wide as Vegas dragged Pete to the table so they could join him.
“Hi, Macau,” Pete said.
“P’Pete. Hia. Wow. That was fast.”
Vegas waved away his teasing, turning to ask Pete what he wanted to eat.
“Cau,” Vegas said with an excited grin as he loaded Pete’s plate for him. “I need you to take off school tomorrow. You’re coming with us in the morning.”
“Where to?” Macau asked, but he wiggled in his seat, so Vegas knew he was game.
“We’re getting married,” Pete exclaimed, glancing toward Vegas to make sure he hadn’t said the wrong thing.
Before Macau could ask the obvious, Vegas said, “Again. But legally this time. I just need to go over to the major clan compound and get Pete’s paperwork.”
Macau cocked his head to the side, taking a sip of his water as he gave Vegas a knowing look. Silently, they conversed with their eyes while Pete began to eat.
Bro, you can’t go in there.
Shut up, it’ll be easy. In and out.
You’ll be shot on sight.
Hasn’t happened yet.
Yet! No way, Hia.
“You know what?” Macau said aloud, turning to look at Pete with large, innocent eyes.
Vegas knew those eyes. He had fallen for their tricks a few times. He already knew from their run in at the temple that Pete couldn’t say no to Macau.
“What?” Pete asked, falling right into his trap.
“I need to run out tonight anyway. I’ll go get your papers. Do you know where they are?”
Pete pursed his lips, his brow furrowing as he tried to think. He looked so cute that Vegas wanted to kiss him. Instead, he put his hand on Pete’s thigh.
“I don’t…I don’t even know where I lived before,” Pete said quietly.
“Oh,” Macau murmured. “Right. Well, I’m sure I can find them. I’m cute, so I’ll just ask another guard to help me.”
“Are you sure?” Vegas asked his brother. He didn’t think anyone would harm Macau, even as much as they despised him, but he didn’t want to put his brother in danger.
“Yeah,” Macau scoffed. “It’ll be a breeze.”
They went back to eating, and Macau told Pete all about himself, slipping in stories about Vegas whenever he could. Some of the stories were embarrassing, but Vegas couldn’t bring himself to make Macau stop when Pete seemed so delighted by it all. He even asked questions of his own, and once more Vegas’s chest felt warm. Pete wanted to get to know him.
When they were done, Macau slipped away to go find Pete’s papers, and Vegas decided to walk Pete around their home to show him where everything was. He even stopped to re-introduce Pete to Nop, since they used to work together at the major clan compound years before.
Some of the men gave Pete surprised looks, but Vegas only held his hand tighter, keeping his head up high as he proudly presented Pete as his partner while showing Pete his new home.
Pete smiled at everyone they came across. He seemed interested in everything Vegas was showing him, but Vegas caught the fact that Pete’s attention always quickly turned back to linger on him.
As they made their way back to their room, Vegas began to get worried about Macau. He should have been inside Pete’s room by then, at least.
“Do you want to call Macau and ask if he needs help?” Pete asked, and Vegas practically melted.
“I should check on him.”
He grabbed his phone, quickly making sure his father hadn’t called him, and then called Macau.
“Hey, Bro,” Macau answered cheerily. “What’s up?”
“Just checking in. Did you find it?”
“Not yet. That goofy tall guy that’s always with Khun is helping me since he knew which room was Pete’s. We’ve checked most of the drawers, we’re just going through the closet now.”
Vegas glanced over to see that Pete was leaning close. Their eyes met, Pete’s full of questions, so Vegas quickly put Macau on speakerphone so Pete could hear him as well.
“Uhh,” Macau said, just to fill the quiet, and Vegas could hear him shifting through things. “Oh! I think I found it. There’s a wallet in here…” Macau made a humming sound, and then he exclaimed, “Yes! Found his ID. Now…” There was some more shuffling around, and Macau hissed, “And I found his Blue Book. Sweet.”
Vegas exhaled with relief. “Thank you, Cau. Be careful on your way home.”
“Yep!”
Macau ended the call, and Vegas glanced over to see Pete chewing on his bottom lip.
“Pete?” Vegas called.
“Hmm?”
“You okay?”
Pete released his plump lip, tilting his head to the side. “Yeah. Sorry. Just trying to figure out what I should do now. I used to be a guard, but what will I be now? What if I never get my memories back?”
Vegas reached for him, wanting to soothe him, and reveled in the feeling of Pete sinking into him, so trusting.
“Just take your time, baby. I’ll take care of you, no matter what. And,” Vegas said, leaning back to thumb at Pete’s cheek. “If you never get your memories back, then we’ll just make new ones, yeah?”
Pete smiled, nodding as he leaned forward to kiss Vegas. Vegas fell into the kiss, which was slow and steady, and pulled Pete toward the bed. They were just kissing, but Vegas still felt a thrum of excitement run through his body, lighting him up from the inside.
“Pete,” Vegas murmured, “I’ve never loved someone like this before.”
“Never?” Pete asked, pressing his lips to Vegas’s cheek, and then his mouth again. It felt like a challenge, so Vegas quickly shook his head.
“I thought maybe…once before…but I was wrong. I was so wrong.”
Pete growled, reaching his hand under Vegas’s shirt as he licked into Vegas’s mouth, drawing a moan from him.
“Don’t ever betray me,” Pete said in a low voice. His eyes looked dark as they bore into Vegas’s. “You’re mine. Don’t forget that.”
Vegas could have laughed. He had been so worried about Pete regaining his memories and turning on him that he hadn’t even considered that Pete might have the same concerns.
“Never, sweetheart. My Pete. My love.” He kissed Pete again with each declaration, and didn’t stop until he heard Macau knock loudly on his door.
“Are you two decent in there?” Macau asked.
Vegas was a little sad to have to say, “Yes.” He pulled away from Pete, smirking at his kiss-swollen lips, and helped him up so they could get Pete’s forms from Macau.
“Ta-da!” Macau said, handing them over with a flourish.
Pete accepted them, giving his thanks, and Vegas wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist, looking over his shoulder.
“Pongsakorn Saengthem,” Pete read aloud. “I guess that’s me.”
“Soon to be Pongsakorn Theerapanyakul,” Vegas murmured, grinning. When he looked up, Macau was grinning too. He leapt over to touch Pete’s arm.
“Pete, I hope you don’t mind, but I looked at your Blue Book. I was just curious.”
“It’s fine,” Pete murmured, opening it to check for himself. He touched the pages gingerly, mouthing the names to himself.
“Anything ringing a bell?” Vegas asked.
“Maybe.”
The three of them hung out for a while, but Vegas shooed Macau away before it got too late. They had a big morning ahead of them, after all.
He tucked Pete into bed, and Pete smiled at him.
“After tomorrow,” Pete said, “You can’t change your mind.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
As much as he wanted to touch Pete more, to push him over the edge with pleasure, Vegas knew that could wait. They had their whole lives ahead of them.
“Pete,” Vegas whispered into the dark, unsure if Pete was even still awake to hear him. “I love you.”
Vegas woke up early, his heart thumping in his chest as he saw Pete was still sleeping beside him.
He tickled and kissed him awake until Pete was howling with laughter, shoving Vegas half-heartedly away.
As they caught their breath, Pete ran his fingers through Vegas’s hair, grinning up at him.
“I could get used to this,” Pete said.
“See that you do. I intend to spoil you.”
They showered and got dressed, with Vegas helping Pete pick out something nice to wear.
“Can I take the bandage off?” Pete asked.
Vegas frowned a little, but he nodded, pulling Pete closer so he could inspect his wound. “I don’t think it will hurt. We can always bandage it again later if we need.”
Hand in hand, they collected Macau from his room, then went to find Nop, who was waiting for them with the car. As requested, they were both dressed nicely.
They doubled-checked that they both had the required documents, and drove to the closest Amphur. They were the first ones in as the office opened, and settled in to fill out the paperwork required with the officer.
“Do you have a pre-nup?” She asked, and Pete turned to blink at Vegas.
“Ah,” Vegas said, “No. Do you want one, Pete?”
Pete shook his head. “I told you, you’re stuck with me.”
“No,” Vegas told the officer.
Nop and Macau signed as their witnesses, and then they waited for their approval. Since it was early in the day, it didn’t take long.
Vegas stared at the marriage certificate, declaring that he was now legally bound to Pete, and vice versa. A sudden swell of emotion hit him. He couldn’t deny that part of him always felt like he was unlovable. His brother loved him, true. He believed his mother had, as well. But this was different. Pete had chosen him. Even with the crazy situation they were in, Pete had wanted him.
“Bro,” Macau called, “Are you just gonna cry or are you going to kiss your husband?”
Vegas was surprised that Macau wasn’t just teasing him. He was crying.
“Husband,” Pete cooed, reaching up to gently wipe his tears away.
Gripping their certificate tightly, Vegas kissed Pete–he kissed his husband.
They left the office, going to have a celebratory breakfast, complete with champagne, which made Pete scrunch his face up as Vegas laughed. Afterward, Vegas made a special stop to get them matching gold wedding bands.
When that was done, they took Pete shopping, and Vegas delighted at everything that Pete shyly picked out for himself. He had decent taste.
After loading the shopping into the trunk of the car, Vegas decided to take Pete on a tour of some places he had caught Pete snooping on him. They went to cafes, casinos, and a movie theater that Macau and Vegas had once dragged Pete into when they had caught him. Macau laughed again, remembering how nervous Pete had looked, but how he had fallen asleep almost immediately.
“I was tired,” Pete complained.
Vegas’s head snapped toward him. “You remember?”
“Maybe,” Pete said. “I don’t know. But either way, if I fell asleep, I was clearly exhausted, right?”
They took Pete to the temple next, and this time Vegas told Pete that Macau had been the one to fall asleep.
“It was relaxing. I knew you were there, and P’Pete. I was safe.”
Pete blushed a little at that, and Vegas nudged his shoulder, suggesting they make merits again.
It had been a long day, so they stopped to eat again before making their way back home. Now, Vegas just needed to find a way to break the news to his father. Perhaps his father would cast him out, but that would be fine. Vegas had enough money set aside to take care of himself and Macau for their lifetimes, so it wouldn’t be hard to add Pete to that.
When they arrived back at the house, Vegas hesitated a moment. There were several black cars waiting outside. His father wasn’t supposed to be back for days, but the cars didn’t look like theirs.
“Vegas,” Pete called, his brow furrowed as he grasped Vegas’s wrist.
Gritting his teeth, Vegas said, “I think our family has come to congratulate us, love.”
He sent Nop to take Macau in through a side entrance, but Pete refused to be separated from him.
Before they stepped inside, Vegas turned to Pete.
“Pete, they’re going to tell you terrible things about me.”
Pete blinked. “Okay.”
As much as Vegas wanted to lie, he had decided he wouldn’t lie to Pete. He deserved better.
“Pete…It’s true. At least, most of it probably will be. I’m not a good person. I…The truth is, we were on opposite sides. Kinn sent you to collect information on me, and…I kidnapped you. I hurt you, Pete. I hurt you, and then you hit your head, and I just wanted to fix things. I don’t know why. I can’t explain it for the life of me, but I wanted to take care of you, Pete. I wanted you to be mine.”
Pete placed a steady hand to Vegas’s chest, over his heart.
“I am yours, Vegas. Everything will be okay.”
Vegas’s mouth fell open, stunned and speechless. How could anyone hear what Vegas had just said, and accept it so peacefully?
Pete’s hand slid up Vegas’s neck to cup his jaw, pulling him into a kiss.
“I love you, Vegas.”
Those words gave Vegas the strength to nod, taking Pete’s hand to press a kiss to it before threading his fingers through Pete’s. Whatever was waiting for them, they would face it together.