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1 -
His brother is happy. Macau's always been a happy sort of kid, but this kid is beaming. It's unsightly, and it makes Vegas' stomach twist in careful appreciation for whatever or whoever made him this way. While he himself always took the brunt of what their father had to offer, he knows even the greatest protection can't always be enough, not with the way Macau likes to hurt small things. The fights he gets into. The setting on fire of the school gym once. Those were just minor offenses though, nothing bad, and nothing that was concerning to himself, until he met Pete of course.
But that's not the point now. His brother is smiling, from ear to ear at the breakfast table as he types away on his phone. Vegas can feel Pete's eyes on him, curious and questioning, almost amused.
"Bring her home." He finds his own words saying.
At this Macau's head snaps up. "Me?"
"Who else? You haven't stopped staring at your phone all day. Bring her to meet us if it's so special."
At this Macau smiles, sheepish and dangerously mischievous, but there's a hint there, just a hint of vulnerability and fear. "You've met him already, actually."
Vegas feels his jaw clench a little, not for the 'he' part, but the fact that he's met him when Macau never brings friends home. Not unless they're a part of the family, or other smaller crews, or their kids. People who are in the family, so to speak.
"Is that so?" This is good though, it will make it easier to threaten him.
Macau just rolls his eyes good-naturally. "I'll bring him, but you'll see." Cryptic and bratty as usual.
Pete stifles a laugh, eyes all-knowing.
"Who is it, Pete?" He asks as soon as Macau has left the room.
Pete just shakes his head and drinks his juice.
Later that day, Vegas finds himself pacing on the living room floor. Macau should be home any minute from university, and he should be bringing the person that makes him smile with a softness and gentleness Vegas doesn't remember seeing since he was a small child. It's disconcerting, in the best way possible. But also unbelievably terrifying. For Macau to be growing up, for him to put himself in such a vulnerable situation. Thankfully, his fears are eased a little with the knowledge of their father and uncle in the ground. But just a little.
When the door opens though, he feels his stomach drop a little.
Threatening him is definitely off of the table.
"Porchay..." He says slowly as the youngest Kittisawat steps into his house.
And the man has the audacity to wai politely with a beaming smile tinged in nervousness. "Hi, P'Vegas, thank you for having me over."
Vegas feels his jaw clenched, eyes going to Macau who smiles like the little shit he is, but his eyes turn so gooey when they look at Chay, it's sickening, in a way that makes his own heart feel lighter somehow. Something like relief. He's always worried for Macau, why does this make him feel better? That he's found someone? Because he himself finding someone has made himself 'better'? Or maybe, it's just having Macau care about anything, someone, and being able to love at all.
"Porchay." He says back.
Macau frowns. And Vegas clears his throat before smiling. "Welcome, please make yourself at home." He tries, he is trying. "Are you both hungry? I can make you something to eat."
Macau stares, incredulously. "I thought Pete wasn't here."
Vegas pushes him a little and says affectionately, "Brat, I can cook without him here."
"Yeah, but..."
"I can help if you'd like." Porchay offers, smile nervous but truthful.
Vegas swallows. "There's no need, you two get started on your assignments."
He leaves before things can get more awkward.
But after they sit down for the meal together and Porchay follows him into the kitchen to help clean up as Macau attends to a crying Venice, Porchay looks at him with all the courage in the world and says, "I won't hurt him, P'."
It makes Vegas' stomach churn, heart tightening. Surprise blooming through. "Excuse me?" He has to ask.
Porchay smiles a little, but it's charred on the edges. "He sort of saved me from myself, and I- I really do care about him. I do love him. Even though we're taking things slow because I'm not... I won't ever hurt him. I wouldn't do that to him. He means- he means too much to me. So you don't have to worry too much, okay? You don't have to worry." Porchay plays with his hands nervously, but his eyes remain on his own, and Vegas feels a little speechless frankly. How can this kid read him so easily?
He's waiting though, for some kind of acknowledgement and answer.
And Vegas gives it with a short nod. Porchay exhales deeply, seemingly relieved as he turns around to get started on the dishes. And Vegas can only watch him a strange fondness. There's not many people who could face him like that, about his brother, and Vegas is sure that this bravery has nothing to do with being Porsche Kittisawat's brother.
But it's, refreshing. And it's the act itself, of reassuring him, of that bravery that Vegas feels like maybe he doesn't have to worry so much.
Because if Porchay can be brave for Macau, can love him that much, what else is there to say?
love though? He wonders.
2 -
"Still can't sleep?" Pete asks him, a knowing amused look in his eyes that has Vegas teetering on the edge of his control.
"I'm fine." He replies back sweetly.
Pete laughs. "Sure." He flips another page in his book that he's reading. It's so very... domesticated. Vegas kind of hates how he loves it. "I don't understand though, Macau has been with other people before, why are you so pent up now?"
Vegas looks to him, a little on edge, but Pete's eyes are steady on his, nonjudgmental. Completely open and honest. Vegas really doesn't deserve him.
"This is the first that he's smiled like that."
Porchay is staying the night, and while Macau has had people stay before, and while they're both eighteen, it still has him on edge. For some reason.
Pete's face softens though when he says those words, teasing in his tone as he says, "softy."
Vegas bites the hand on him in response, lightly though with no real pain, at least not yet. Pete just laughs, a clear shiver up his spine though at the gesture.
"I'm going to get a glass of water." He declares. Pete rolls his eyes but doesn't comment further. "I'll be back." It's a promise as much as it is a threat.
Pete smiles sweetly and wanting in response.
And really, who cares if he happens to walk by Macau's room? If he peeks his head into the crack of the door to see what exactly they're doing. This is his house now. His responsibility, just as much as it is Pete's. What he finds though is not what he expects.
It's gentleness, a tender sort of touch between the two that makes his throat choke up as he watches Porchay hold Macau in his arms with all the care in the world. As Macau sniffles, face filled with fading fear. The thing is, Macau used to get terrible nightmares. All the time, about the things he saw from their father, things Vegas stopped as soon as he realized. But he wasn't soon enough it seems. And yet for the past year, Macau says they're gone, and yet... clearly, he's just had one.
Vegas feels himself stepping forward, but Porchay's fingers press deeply into his hair, voice soft as he asks with such devotion, "Did you have a nightmare, baby?"
Macau's tears paint his skin, fingers clutching, but they relax as Porchay kisses his cheek, tightens his hold. "It's over now." Porchay tells him. "I'm here. All the bad things are gone now."
And to Vegas befuddlement, Porchay begins to sing a soft tun, humming it, as Macau relaxes further and further into his embrace. Fears easing, loving overtaking.
It makes Vegas' heart clench, makes his hand on the doorknob lax it's hold.
In the morning, he sets an extra serving of eggs in Porchay's breakfast in front of him, the way he likes. The way Pete learned from Porsche that he does at Vegas' own request last night. Of course, Porsche has no idea why Pete would ever ask such a thing, and he didn't seem to care much either, just cared about being interrupted.
But Porchay smiles at him big, and wide, and happy. "Thank you, P'! This is my favourite."
Despite himself, affection presses into his stomach, curling there in such a similar way to how he feels for Macau, it surprises him. "Where is Macau?" He asks, putting Macau's own favourite in his spot. He had a rough night, he deserves it, but apparently someone made it better.
"He's just in the shower." Porchay tells him just as said kid comes walking in, hair dripping but smile lighting up when he sees Porchay, and it stays that way with some surprise added as he takes in the food.
"Really, P'?" He asks, in that annoying way brothers do. "Two meals in twenty four hours. I better ask Chay to come over more often. You must like him better or something." But it's teasing, nothing serious.
Porchay's cheeks redden regardless though, and Vegas is already glaring at Macau in turn. "I cook for you all the time." Indignant.
But before Macau can quip back, Porchay tells him, "Don't mean to your brother, Macau, he's being really nice. He made us both breakfast."
Macau smiles at him, so gentle as he says, "Okay, I won't." Like asking Macau to do anything and having him actually do it without complaint or sarcasm is the easiest thing in the world.
it must be love, he can't help but think in terrifying reality, but looking at Porchay's kindness and Macau's smile like sunshine as they look at one another, Vegas supposes it can't be that bad. If his brother has found someone like Porchay. Maybe he can even be okay himself, with letting him go. Just a little.
3 -
He's not a weak man. His father was. Him and Pete have come to this conclusion, and it took all Pete had to make it so, and Vegas with be on his knees for him for the rest of their lives for it. Even if technically, it's Pete on his knees.
But it doesn't bother him anymore, the bastard of the man his father was. He's in the ground, buried and gone, and yet...
When someone hits him first, it takes him a second, the blood spilling forth, the frozen posture that takes control, the sound of his father's voice. Unhinged and petty. It only makes him angrier but always a second too long to react. Especially when there's no warning.
But before Vegas can even react, he hears it.
"Don't ever touch him again." Words large, but voice small and yet defiant in the owner's anger. In his outrage and surety. Like anger alone could take down houses.
He's shocked when he looks up and sees none other than Porchay. Young, small, innocently kind Porchay. Soft. And gentle with his brother, always allowing himself to be lead even though he clearly always stands on his own two feet. Awkward and kind, he stands down with venomous anger and a heaving chest, fist held out and clearly going to bruise as the man who hit himself stands stunned. Knocked over a little, face in his hand.
Vegas feels his own cheek throb as the man's hand circles around Porchay's arm in a way that makes the young man wince. He's clearly about to try and inflict more damage but it's then that Vegas finds his own bearings and is over there in an instant. It takes barely any effort at all to get the stranger off of Porchay, to snap his wrist and watch him wince, half running away. He himself has the full intention to follow him and use his pocket knife neatly stored away, but Porchay's small grip on his shirt, stops him short.
He turns back to the younger and watches Porchay smile sheepishly. "I got a hit in too, P'. I think you can let him go."
that's not how this works, he wants to growl out, but killing a man the way he does in front of Macau is something he will never do, in fact he'd kill anyone who would trying something like that. And staring into Porchay's eyes, he feels much the same. An overwhelming need to shield and protect.
"You're bleeding." Porchay frowns, distress clear in his eyes.
Vegas feels his heart tighten. "I've had worse. How's your arm?"
Porchay smiles. "It's not that bad, P' but we need to stop the blood. We're you coming here to meet Macau? This is a good shortcut to his campus but it can be dangerous from time time."
His chest tightens. "Why did you come this way then?"
Sheepish, Porchay tells him, "I was too excited, I wanted to tell Macau that my song went over well with my professor. He helped me work on it all night."
A careful hand reaches out then, tissue in hand from Porchay's pocket as he tries to help stop the bleeding, but as he reaches out, Vegas notices the red marks starting to blossom.
When they get to the cafe to see Macau, he jumps up to the both of them, worry and murderous intent in his eyes. Arm snaking possessively around Porchay who blushes but doesn't pull away from the touch. But Vegas can see the lingering eyes of worry not just on Porchay but on himself.
"Who did this? Where is he?"
"Someone thought they could take my wallet." He calmly explains.
Porchay is quick to add, "He must have been desperate, to got to those lengths. Don't worry about it, Macau, I'm fine. So is Vegas, and I got a good hit in too."
Macau's smile turns sinister and wanting, and wonderful in its breathless intimacy, all for Porchay, but his eyes quickly furrow into worry as he takes Porchay's hand between his own and inspects the bruises on his knuckles up to his arm.
"I'm hungry, let's get something to eat." Porchay tells him, a little nervous, probably sensing the tension in Macau. Vegas can't blame him though, he feels it the same, already texting two of his men to find the would be robber.
Macau breathes deeply, putting down his anger as he nods, eyes turning softer on the other. "Okay. I'll get us some ice too."
Porchay hums happily but as Macau gets up, reluctantly almost, his eyes find Vegas', a lingering question there. will you deal with this, or will i have to? It's as much of a threat as it is a promise. He knows how much he himself hates Macau getting too involved, how much Macau hates it, but for Porchay, he'd do whatever it takes.
Vegas gives him a short nod of honest answer. And Macau's relief is palatable, because he knows that he's nothing if not a man of his word.
"You've got some fire in you." He can't help but tell Porchay once Macau is up at the till.
Porchay just smiles sheepishly and then all too serious as he says, "He was hurting you, P'." As if that explains everything. And it does.
And when he does find the man, and looks at those fingers that created ugly bruises, Vegas finds, he doesn't just play with him for his own bloody nose, but for something like the love of family and all that.
And it's not because of who Porchay's brother is either. Not ever again.
4 -
Coming home to find Porchay holding a giggling Venice in his arms as they play with baby blocks on the living room floor as Porchay hums a soft tune, is not what Vegas expected to find. But, if he was honest with himself, the sight is kind of adorable. Albeit odd.
"Um." He says, making Porchay look up, blinking at him before breaking into a smile as Venice's chubby fingers making a grabby motion for him, his heart tugging at that. "Where's Pete?" He finds himself asking stupidly. "Or Macau?"
Porchay blushes a little. "Sorry, P'. Macau has a meeting with his tutor and I was waiting for him but it was taking longer, well I was waiting because Pete said I could. But and Pete said there was some kind of pressing business that couldn't wait, so he asked me to look after Venice, I'm sorry if-"
"No, it's alright. I was just... surprised." Surprised is an understatement, but the more he thinks about it the more sense it makes. Pete is very distrustful when it comes to who they leave Venice with, very protective, something they can all in this house agree on, so it leave with Porchay means that he does trust him. Implicitly, and that assessment, Vegas can't really disagree with. He remembers the punch Porchay landed, almost knocked the guy out for himself, he can't imagine what Porchay would do to protect a baby. their baby. Macau's brother. Theirs.
Porchay gets up with Vegas and hands Venice over gently, with a sheepish grin. "I fed him, P' I hope that was okay. Pete told me to at five."
"Thank you, Porchay."
"You can call me, Chay, you know."
Vegas finds himself smiling despite himself, even more so when Venice grabs onto Porchay who tries to walk away from them, as if not wanting to let him go, even though the baby's eyes droop considerably. Fond doesn't even begin to cover it. But Porchay's eyes seem to convey exactly what he's feeling too for the baby.
"He's really cute." Porchay says. "I always wanted another sibling." He confides, almost hesitantly as if it's a terrible thing to want more than his brother Porsche. Vegas for some reason, feels angry for this but he doesn't show it, just smiles tightly.
"Well, you've got us."
Porchay freezes a little, eyes widening, and he himself feels like he wants a hole to open up in the room. Vulnerability he does not do, with anyone but... and this...
"I'm back!" Macau calls happily, thankfully in time to break up this little party. "Oh, you're here." Macau says casually, arm wrapping around Porchay, a kiss softly to his cheek that Porchay blushes at as Macau then reaches over to tickle Venice in his arms, smile affectionate.
All they really need, is for Pete to come home now.
5 -
"Are you making the kids some soup?" Pete asks with a tinge of affection in his voice, something lovely.
Vegas, despite his worry turns to his partner and smiles but frowns at the blankets in Pete's hands, the smell of sweat. "His fever still high?"
Pete's eyes fall into concern as he nods. "I gave Chay the medicine, but the poor kid just seems to be getting worse. Let's call the doctor to come again if it doesn't break in the morning."
He nods quickly in agreement and Pete's smile is worth it, the press of lips that could easily get more heated if it were not for the gross blankets between them, and the responsibilities. But Vegas nips at Pete in a show that they'll pick this up later, at a better time. Pete's smile is quite something, heavy with anticipation and wanton desire.
"I'll bring the soup and meet you upstairs."
Pete nods but before he can leave, grabs him gently and says with a bit of a frown. "Macau has been by his side twenty four seven since yesterday, I tried to talk to him into taking a shower at least while I watched over Chay, but.. you know how he gets."
Vegas does, and he hates that Macau doesn't listen to Pete sometimes, it's a rare thing in fact, but because of how poorly Porchay is doing, Vegas can understand why. He'd be the same if it was Pete. He shudders at the thought. "I'll talk to him." his words final. Pete nods in appreciation.
Getting Macau to leave Porchay's side is difficult, but his brother is exhausted and needs a minute. "I'll feed him, Macau, go shower." Voice turning dangerous.
Macau predictably glares at him and opens his mouth to protest but Vegas is already beating him to it saying, "Porchay would be upset, don't you think? If he found out you weren't taking care of yourself on his account."
"That's a low blow, even for you."
Vegas shrugs, heart tugging painfully at the sight of his brother hurting, of Porchay unconscious, clearly in discomfort.
In the end Macau obliges, but only after he himself promises not to leave for even a second, Macau stating he'll be back in minutes.
Once he's gone though, Vegas finds himself turning to Porchay, reaching for the wet towel and ringing it out with fresh water before putting it back to his forehead, wondering how he'll get him to eat at all.
But just as his thoughts begin to think of the possibilities, a hand reaches up and Porchay seems to come back to some kind of awareness as he grips onto his own wrist, tightly. Vegas doesn't even attempt to remove it, only listening with some kind of growing horror as Porchay calls out, "hia. hia." Porsche. His brother.
It twists like a knife digging in.
The disappointment from Pete about this whole situation is palatable and very real. But there is little they can do, even with all their power. Instead they invite Porchay to stay with them as often as he likes. With Macau. With them. Instead of that empty house, instead of the endless hallways in an even emptier one. Porsche always busy, always only at Kinn's beck and call. Didn't even notice Porchay getting sick. And the kid doesn't even want to tell Porsche, because, 'i don't want to distract, hia.' But there was careful regret there, pain, and hurt. Even when Pete called Porsche regardless, as soon as he said they were taking care of him, Porsche begged for Pete to look after Porchay well. That he can't possibly leave Kinn's side right now with the international deals going on.
Vegas always thought their family was better, now he knows that it is. At least they care for their people.
"It's alright, Chay, your brother is here." He promises him with ease, putting Porchay's arm back under the covers, but as he tries to move away, Porchay just hangs on tighter, face twisted up.
"please don't go."
So he stays, and lets the sweaty hand grip onto his. The way Macau used to do when he was younger until got older, more crass, more indigent. He still does it though, from time to time when he's sick or hurt, and so afraid. It's easier now, that their father is gone. But this, it still surprises him. Makes him feel a protective urge rise up.
When Macau comes back he just looks at their joined hands and smiles, seemingly relieved as he sits down on Porchay's other side and says, "he has that effect."
Vegas simply stares back, eyebrow raised.
Macau laughs a little, and reaches to push Porchay's sweaty hair back with all the gentleness in the world. "Making people love him. Sometimes, I think, that maybe he's too good for me."
It's almost saddened, bitter, and Vegas hates that tone. His own response is quick and truthful, "Do you make sure he wants for nothing? Do you love him? Do you show him every day?"
Macau nods, a blush to his cheeks, eyes that can't meet his.
"You're more than enough, Macau. I know that he would agree."
Macau presses a kiss to Porchay's heated cheek, thumb gently caressing across. "Yeah." He says soft, and so much in love.
When he's upstairs, he stands in the doorway and stares at Pete for a long time, heart aching, just, needing. Just loving.
Sometimes, he forgets how much he has. How much it is, to love and be loved in returned, to have something so deep.
"Vegas? Is that you? Are you coming to bed? How's Chay?"
Vegas kisses him with all he has.
Dazed and most certainly awake now, Pete asks breathless and happy, "What was that for?"
"Please." He asks, nuzzling into Pete's skin.
And Pete's breath hitches when he answers, "Always."
They did good, he thinks, with this family of theirs. With all of it. No matter how hard fought it took, and does.
+ 1
Porchay is a really good singer, and songwriter, and it takes a concert of his for his class project for himself to really see that. He gets now why Macau tried so hard to get him to stick with it. He was right.
"He's really good." Pete says what they're both thinking.
After, they walk over to the two of them, Porchay's happy grin and Macau's loving gaze as he praises him. The healthy tint of red is nice to see on the younger lover's complexion, the sickness long since gone.
But when Porchay looks up to find them, he looks surprised. "P'Vegas, P'Pete, and Venice! I didn't know you'd be able to make it."
Macau frowns at this and Vegas feels a twitch of irritation. Truthfully, he was looking a little, for Porsche but it didn't really surprise him when he didn't see him here.
"Of course we'd come." He tells him simply.
Pete smiling as he shifts Venice to his other side. "You were really good, Chay. Your original song was very moving."
"Thank you." Porchay says bashfully.
Venice chooses that moment to wake up and reach for Porchay and Macau with a giggle that Porchay laughs gently at, but at Macau's small nod and his own careful agreement, Pete already handing him over, Porchay takes him into his arms. "Did you like my song too, Venice?" He asks the baby, who cheers a little, making them all coo inwardly at the sight.
And Vegas, he needs Porchay to understand all of the sudden, a hand reaching out to clasp his shoulder as dark eyes of intent find light ones, a little nervous as he tells him firmly, "we'll always come. You're family, aren't you? And you know it's not because of Porsche, don't you?"
Porchay smiles, pleased and cautiously optimistically happy.
Macau, the brat though, pushes his own hand away from Porchay. "Okay, that's enough." He says possessively, making Vegas smirk, but he doesn't push it. Just reaches for Pete, one small touch to Venice's cheek before telling them all, "Shall we go out to eat? We should celebrate Porchay's accomplishments, shouldn't we?"
Macau narrows his eyes, but Vegas can see how pleased he is, how relaxed and content, to have this. And Vegas can't blame him, he never thought they'd have this either. Someone they love. Family. He thinks maybe Porchay feels the same, knows Pete does, and it's pretty great. To be this okay. Vegas watches as Macau's hand presses firmly into Porchay's as they make their way out of the university. His own snug in Pete's. Venice being handed back to himself. Content.