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For the first time in his life Vegas was running away.
He pressed the gas pedal hard, his back feeling the pull of gravity sinking him back into his plush leather seat. The speed at which he was driving at was way over any legal limit, he knew.
Not that it mattered in any real way. The junky old cars the police had in their arsenal would never catch up to them even if they tried.
Right now not much else mattered except this feeling he was harboring. He felt like a rabid dog free of his restraints, his collar coming off loose, his neck finally breaking free of its confinement. He had no purpose or owner, just freedom no matter how short lived it might be, he still ran.
None of the guards dared to stop him in his path for escape or tried to, despite the fact that they could easily just plant a bullet in him, incapacitate him and capture him. But none did. Whether it was out of fear or clear instructions he's not too sure and he's not particularly curious to find out either.
He had no destination in mind, just getting as far away from the compound as possible.
There was a certain solace in the maddening velocity in which the numbers in the car’s display ranked up as Vegas breezed through the quiet countryside roads late at night. Every kilometer away from that hellhole of a Theerapanyakul house made his lungs feel like they could once again work, filling him with much needed air finally able to breathe normally.
In the silence of the car ride, Vegas took time to notice any injuries he might have endured during the fight. He obviously hadn't been mortally wounded or he would still be back in his uncle's house bleeding to death in a corner next to the countless bodies of his men. He would be just another corpse atop a pile of dozen other loyal men to the minor family both familiar to him and some less so. Just food for worms.
He couldn't feel any pain or debilitating discomfort but he knew that adrenaline was one hell of a drug when it came in time of danger. Vegas could however sense his left arm slowly losing blood from a gunshot grazing his flesh which he had to thank the main family’s bodyguards for, the rumors at how awful shots they were, ringing true as always.
As he adjusted himself on his seat there was a sharp pain sucking the air from his lungs, coming from his gut possibly from a stab, the wound bleeding freely into his shirt, still persisting but the agony was more than welcome.
It kept him present in the moment, a reminder that the events he went through were in fact real and not a mere figment of his imagination. The attack on the main family had failed miserably and along with his father gone, so was their legacy. He was no longer the heir of the minor family's business, he was just Kinn's useless cousin. A minor inconvenience that had to be taken care of.
Maybe if he had been killed along with his father, a bullet hole lodged deep into his temple from his uncle's gun, bits and pieces of his brain and skull adorning the expensive tapestry of Korn’s office, none of these useless thoughts would matter anyway. He would be free of any responsibilities and all expectations. He would just be in peace, serene into the void of nothingness. And all he had to do was move the steering wheel a little to the right, the car going off course, hopefully plunging into the dark waters of a river or straight into a tree and he could have just that.
"Vegas"
A hand atop his own brought him back to reality and out of his spiraling thoughts, Pete's warmth reminding him that he was right there with him. He wasn't alone, Pete had stupidly followed him out of the house when Vegas fled upon seeing his father’s cold expressionless and unmoving figure. The memory was still too fresh for his mind to make sense of it all, the reality of it seemed too far away to fully accept it.
It took him a lot longer than he was normally used to, to acknowledge Pete's presence in the car beside him. Just yesterday Vegas would have burned the whole city down just to have the opportunity to talk to Pete and just exist in the same space like they are now.
But things change.
Deep down he knew that he should be at least a bit wary of Pete's intentions for following him back to his car. He could be sent by Korn as a spy to keep an eye on him now that he was for all intents and purposes in his mercy.
Despite his better judgment he found that he couldn't find it in him to doubt Pete.
It was surprising how much can change in the span of a few hours. Things he regarded as unchanging, everlasting and unshakable suddenly became fluid and laid forgotten.
"You can slow down now. No one is following us." Pete tried to reassure him. Vegas could easily detect the careful way he was talking to him now, like he needed to be spoken to like someone would a child. Vulnerable and fragile.
Vegas instinctively felt his foot leave the accelerator and rest next to it. He hadn't realized how tense he was until he felt the muscles in his arm protest in pain as he gripped the steering wheel hard.
Despite him going along with Pete's suggestion he could still feel Pete breath out in disapproval. He was holding something back, the nervous energy they both carried felt almost palpable against the back of his teeth and the edge of his fingertips.
Vegas felt safe enough not to worry about anyone following them. They had no real reason to and yet there was a persistent disturbance gnawing at his insides, a lump forming in his throat he couldn't quite swallow down.
Vegas made a last second decision to take a shortcut through the rural roads on the outskirts of Bangkok away from the busy highway. The road was bumpy and his luxury vehicle protested at the sharp turn, clearly unfit to withstand such harsh conditions and handling.
Vegas killed the engine at the side of the road but kept the headlights on, illuminating the road ahead creating an eerie scene in front of them. There was a body of water below them, whether a lake or a river Vegas couldn't tell. A lone cork tree stood in front of them.
‘’Why did you stop here?’’ Pete looked at him in confusion. ‘’We're in the middle of nowhere.’’
Vegas turned around towards Pete’s voice but his eyes didn't linger for long on him like they used to. He couldn't bear to face him at this moment. He needed to think. He needed to concentrate and Pete proved to always be a distraction, helpful or not.
"I'm just going to have a smoke." He said with finality, sparing him of any unnecessary excuses. He left the car running and got out of the vehicle, while patting his jacket in search of his packet of cigarettes. He took a cigarette stick out, holding it between his fingers not really lighting it up, just balancing it for the sake of it.
He moved towards the cork tree, its branches devoid of any foliage resulting in a pretty haunting sight in combination with the headlights behind them. Vegas wondered what purpose did it carry when it could provide no shade or fruit. He found that he wasn't in the position to judge the poor tree when they both had more similarities than not.
As he took the scene in front of him there was a part of him that considered the possibility of Pete moving to the driver's seat and taking off, leaving him all alone in the dark of the wilderness.
Vegas had the sudden realization that he wasn't sure he would mind that outcome either.
People leaving him wasn't a novel concept for him, now only too used to the idea of being left to his own devices.
And besides, was a man really ever alone when he had the company of his gun?
To his surprise Vegas heard the car door open and close, Pete's steps moving through the blades of grass, making noise on purpose, so unlike him, announcing his presence loudly before moving right next to his side.
Vegas fished from his chest pocket his packet and offered a stick to Pete. Pete took it wordlessly and lit it up with his own lighter he held in his black bodyguard suit. He lit up Vegas' own right after and his lips lifted up at the intimacy of the gesture. The first drag of smoke felt like being covered by a blanket, warm and comforting, his body relaxing instantly.
He could see the white smoke coming off Pete's lips from his peripheral vision and he knew he felt the same as Vegas did in that very moment. There was a sense of serenity, a safety net being cast, protecting them from the chaos that awaited back in Bangkok.
Vegas took his time to really look at Pete for the first time since they had fled together. His face was painted all over with blood in splashes and colorful bruises. Vegas did not detect any visible injuries on his body or a darker patch of black on his dark suit that would indicate blood, seeing once again evidence of Pete's capabilities showcased to him so vividly in front of him.
A sense of pride washed over Vegas, Pete's survival being solid proof that they were meant to be. He had made it through the chaos and destruction around them just like he did. Vegas found comfort in their shared pain despite the logical part of his brain screaming at him that he should feel some other type of emotion buried along and not only focus on what was in front of him. He ignored it for now, just like he always did.
Pete turned towards him, sensing his eyes on him and when they locked eyes, Vegas momentarily lost the ability to inhale. Pete's gaze retained the same intensity as he remembered back in the safe house. Dark and unrestricted.
Vegas' eyes lingered on Pete's face for a moment longer. A strong sense of deja vu filled his chest as he tried to pinpoint exactly what emotions Pete was hiding in his icy stare.
He savored the unspoken words in his expression before shifting down to his lapel where something caught Vegas' eyes, or lack thereof.
“Where is your dog tag?’’ he asked, finding it impossible to keep the pure unfiltered disdain laced in his tone from his query.
Pete looked down at his suit as if he'd already forgotten he was missing the ever precious Theerapanyakun main families' insignia. One as himself could be targeted as a traitor if seen without the clear mark of the main family on him at all times.
‘’What are you even talking about?’’ Pete said, feigning ignorance. He was stubborn as ever, Vegas decided.
He sighed moving close to him and in his space, growing tired of the clear physical distance between them, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him closer to him so he could have a better look.
He pressed his thumb and index finger together on the material, to bring attention to Pete's missing pin, trying to figure out how something so important to the main family's men could get lost so easily. The fabric felt torn under the pad of his finger, the ruined thread coming apart, as if someone intentionally ripped it from its secure place.
‘’This right here.’’ He said, the words coming out rough and angry even to his own ears. Pete tried to yank Vegas' hands off of him, turning his body to the side in a failed attempt to shield his body from Vegas'.
‘’Won't your Master be angry?’’ he asked, mocking him openly while still trying to keep his hold of Pete. "Or do you want to get in trouble?" he pushed on, enjoying how uncomfortable Pete was getting, his ears turning red, hands grabbing, trying to pry them off his suit but never putting any real effort into the action as he knew Pete could easily do. Pete's cigarette had long been forgotten as it fell from his lips and ending up on the ground between them and Vegas entertained the thought, for just a second, of leaning down and closing the remaining distance between them, eyeing his lips hungrily.
Pete’s back finally hit the car door with a loud painful thump. Vegas followed him, pinning him down, effectively trapping him with his body.
"Get off me Vegas." Pete snarled but he made no attempt to move.
Vegas ignored his words and positioned himself between Pete’s legs, grabbed his wrists, his hands moving unconsciously to restrict him almost out of habit despite the fact that the act was not needed. Pete had no intention of fleeing.
Pete's eyes shifted to his then for a split second. They fixed Vegas with an intensity he knew intimately. Pete was angry. He was furious at Vegas and at his words. Vegas could only smile at his reaction, finding it hard to stay focused on anything other than Pete and the way he reacted to his accusations.
That fiery glare Pete regarded him with was so painstakingly familiar that Vegas felt like he was transported back in time and space to a place he wanted to forget and erase from the fabric of the universe. At the same time he knew he wanted nothing more than to be stuck in that time, frozen in those moments that defined them both irreversibly.
One thing that Vegas hadn't expected from those eyes though, was the emotion behind them. Beneath the anger and frustration there was sadness. Pete seemed hurt in a way that he had never seen before.
Vegas knew well how Pete looked when he was in pain. He witnessed his face twist in agony, brows furrowed and voice hoarse from screaming bloody murder. He knew only too well because he was the one inflicting that very pain.
But this was different. Pete was hurt by Vegas once more, yes but in a whole new way. Vegas saw pure disappointment directed straight at him.
‘’Do you still not get it, Vegas?’’ Pete sounded enraged at him as if Vegas was missing something important from the conversation.
‘’What do you mean? I don't get what?’’ he questioned again, his eyes searching for an answer deep in them.
‘’I took this pin off myself. I quit.’’ he simply said and Vegas stepped back in complete and utter shock. How could Pete quit just like that as if working for this family was a mundane office job? You could never truly quit from the mob and even if you did the choice wouldn't come without any consequences.
"Why would you do such a thing?’’ he said in disbelief. ‘’Don't you know what this means? For you?’’
Pete sighed and tried to follow him, taking a step towards him tipping the scales in his favor this time, shortening the distance in the hopes that Vegas would be seeing his reasoning behind such a stupid move.
‘’I know and that's exactly why I made my decision.’’ He responded with an air of finality.
Vegas lost all the mirth and confidence he had acquired from his previous wrong assumptions.
‘’I'm just a nobody, Pete. I have lost everything there is to lose, don't you get it?’’ His voice was only getting higher with each word. As the words left his mouth the reality came crushing on him, as if saying the truth out loud made it real, finally.
Pete shook his head in denial, adding to Vegas' pilling doubts. ‘’That's not true Vegas. You still have Macau. And me.’’
At Pete's words the whole world stopped for a second. Vegas considered Pete’s declaration as reality despite his better judgment. He pictured a world where he would live for the rest of his days at peace, comfortably with his brother and Pete. The fantasy infiltrated his psyche abruptly as he imagined a perfect vision where he would wake up in the mornings for the sole reason of making breakfast for Pete after making love to him the night before. Pete would complain about him taking too long while wearing one of his silky shirts and nothing else while he sat on one the kitchen stools leisurely but would still eat whatever he had made with a frown on his face and Vegas wouldn't mind because he knew he could kiss all his little worries away. The picture was as unbelievable as it was sweet and Vegas found himself inexplicably wanting that saccharine dream for himself and Pete. A peaceful life in a calm future.
But the more he mulled it over the more bitter the thought became. How long would the fantasy last for a Theerapanyakul? A week if they were lucky. With the number of enemies they had amounted the past few months alone he wasn't sure he would live another peaceful day let alone years.
How utterly useless. You think you're worth an easy life?
He could hear his father's biting words even in the afterlife as they mocked him with cruelty, shattering his dream as easily as it came to him.
‘’You know that's not enough Pete. It will never be enough for me. After everything I've given up..’’ he doesn't end his sentence but the meaning behind the silence is crystal clear. Vegas had been bred and molded into this cruel life of his. Since he could remember himself he was always meant to be the heir, always preparing to take his rightful seat to the throne but never actually succeeding.
Macau on the other hand was spared from experiencing the less savory parts of the second family's business and that was partially because he had shielded him from having the same fate as him. The generational curse would end with him at any cost. And he was paying for that very cost now.
Pete's face fell instantly, his own hopes for the future laid broken just like Vegas' were.
‘’So I'm not enough for you? Is this what you're telling me?’’
Vegas sees, recognizes the hurt behind the words. He had the most excruciating need to comfort Pete for his own transgressions, for roping him into his miserable life and allowing him a space inside it in the most brutal way possible.
Instead of rushing to do just that and ease the pain in Pete's eyes maybe spout a white lie or two just to appease him, he laughs. The crude sound breaks the monotony of the serene nature around them and he relishes at the disruption he's caused both on the outside world but also on Pete's resolve.
He's pushing him away. As it should be. Pete has no place in his misery.
Pete's expression suddenly turned into that of a statue, cold yet still preserving the pain of hundreds of years into the marble. His body does the rest of the talking as he reached for his gun from his holster in an instant and pointed it straight at Vegas' head.
If Vegas had found his question amusing this only widened his deranged grin.
‘’Are you going to kill me Pete? Finish the job? Is this why you're here?’’ He asked as he walked into Pete's range making sure Pete didn't miss his target.
Pete's eyes shifted quickly between his head and his chest, his aim becoming unclear as Vegas came closer. Pete's feet were moving backwards out of instinct, creating space between them until the heels of his dress shoes hit the back of the car door. Right where they were before their argument.
‘’You want to kill me?’’
Vegas was only happy to follow him, stalking him back until the barrel of the gun is resting atop his heart. ‘’Do it then. You'll do me a big favor.’’ Vegas said and the air between them felt electric.
Vegas was ecstatic by the prospect of dying by Pete’s hand and one he had not foreseen. This was by far the better option and he briefly chastised himself for not thinking about it earlier in the car.
Pete's hands were shaking, his hold on the pistol unsteady, matching his pupils as he looked unsure on what to do next. None of his targets were this willing to take a bullet before.
Vegas took the last step forward in the same position they were minutes ago only this time Pete’s the one in complete control of the situation not Vegas, their roles reversing into a dizzy kind of dance just like their relationship had always been.
Pete's hands were shaking uncontrollably now and Vegas held them both, taking hold of the gun and pointing it below his chin to help him out. ‘’Come on baby, you know you want to do this.'' he said and his smile only spread as he coaxed Pete ‘’I promise it'll be okay.’’ he breathed the words between them as if afraid that someone might overhear them.
Pete was shaking his head now, denying the simple solution Vegas had laid out for him so readily. Tears cascaded down his pretty face and Vegas wanted to wipe them all away with his thumb and with it erase any semblance of care or affection for him he foolishly might still hold on to.
Pete however did the opposite and pressed his lips to his in a searing kiss making his head swim in complete bliss. Every thought and desire of dying was replaced by the overwhelming need to keep feeling Pete's soft lips against his. Eventually Pete broke the kiss, turning his head to the side, so as to take a second to breathe but Vegas followed him, already mourning the loss of his lips pressed against his. Vegas chose to kiss him everywhere else he could reach instead, from the apple of his cheek trying to chase any tears of sadness away to the tip of his nose while the gun still pressed on his chin painfully but Vegas couldn't care less.
He nosed him slowly as he waited patiently for Pete to get his bearings before he locked eyes with him again. Pete lowered the gun with a shaky breath, securing it and putting it safely back into its holster, his eyes never leaving his but merely savoring the change in them turning pure black with desire the same as his.
Vegas felt his hair being pulled roughly from its roots, Pete pulling him back into another bruising kiss and this time it's rough and needy and everything that Vegas could have ever wanted it to be. He realized how much he actually missed this Pete, the remnants of him breaking into the surface and making himself unabashedly present and loud in his vicinity. The Pete only he could bring to life.
Vegas went along with his maddening pace, his fingers carding through Pete's hair as well, mirroring the hunger that Pete exuded but still letting him lead this dance. Pete made a noise of encouragement when Vegas pressed himself incredibly close to him, his tongue brushing against his lower lip. Pete shuddered in response to the contact and it only made Vegas that much eager to indulge Pete, while leaning to the side and leaving open mouthed kisses on the side of his neck, knowing full well just how sensitive he was in that area.
Pete let out a strangled moan in response, his fingers only guiding him back for a kiss which he let him do without complaint. The kiss was deep instantly as Vegas slipped his tongue into Pete's mouth and only now did he taste the distinct tang of blood and gunpowder on him.
Whether it was his or the blood of his men he didn't know and quite frankly didn't care when Pete was showering him with kisses sweet and true. He had him in his arms finally without the need of chains and restraints like he did in the safe house. They were on equal footing here and now.
Pete wasn't only incredibly willing but was also getting kind of impatient. His hands snaked around the hoops of his belt to pull him that much closer against him. Vegas could sense an unspoken hesitation hanging from Pete's lips and when he searched for the answer in his eyes, Pete avoided his gaze.
Vegas feeling the spark between them dying off, he felt the tinge of curiosity in him grow. He had the most insistent need to split Pete's skull open and drink patiently and carefully the contents of it just this once if he so could.
He cupped his cheek tenderly turning his face towards him, forcing him to spare him a glance and the look he received was that of pure vulnerability.
‘’What is it?’’ he asked wondering if he'll get an answer out of him or if he would have to coax one out of him. Vegas was willing to do both if necessary but it didn't seem to be so this time.
Pete surprised him by loosely slipping his arms around his neck, his fingers lightly playing with the back of his hair in a teasing manner, a side of him Vegas didn't have the privilege to experience in the past.
Pete leaned in close to his ear, snagging his earlobe between his teeth and whisper hotly against his ear: ‘’I’m starving.’’
Vegas could do nothing more than grin at this, the implications of his sentence obtaining new meaning between them.
Vegas slipped a hand under his thigh bringing it up and over his own giving him permission to grind against him if he so chose. Pete let his weight fall onto Vegas, his balance faltering from the change in position and gave an experimental thrust of his hips to bridge Vegas' crotch with his own immediately taking on to his silent offer.
It was Vegas' turn to suppress a moan of pleasure as he felt just what type of hunger Pete was talking about. He guided his hip in the effort to facilitate whatever action Pete had in mind. Pete wasted no time in grinding his hips against him and the motion has Vegas gasping against his mouth, the hand that was holding Pete's hip migrating lower to his ass.
The simple touch seemed to invigorate Pete his hips seemingly moving out of their own accord and pressing against him with a fervency Vegas had never seen in him before tonight. And in any other circumstance Vegas would have stopped this. With any other lover, Vegas would have simply denied the simple pleasure of them just chasing their need in his kisses. But he found himself that when it came to Pete he could not deny him no matter how juvenile the act was.
Still he didn't want to come like this and not so soon. So despite himself once more he detached himself from Pete, lowering his leg to the ground but still keeping their bodies attached, foreheads pressed together, their breaths mixing in the air around them.
Pete's brows furrowed in confusion at the loss of contact and he tried to press himself closer again, his lips searching his in a pout. Vegas turned his head in momentary denial trying to stay focused on the task he had in mind.
''Let's continue this inside the car, ok?'' he whispered while peppering his mouth is chaste kisses which promised he wasn't putting a stop to this but rather he was only promising for more.
Pete's eyes found his, searching for the truth and whatever they saw behind them made him give him a little nod of approval.
Vegas smiled a toothy grin in return, more elated than he could master to hide. He took Pete's hand and guided him on the front seat of his car, where he pushed the seat as far back as it could go to make room for the both of them. He then sat on it dragging Pete to sit on top of him.
Pete in turn was more than happy to resume their previous activity in a relatively more comfortable environment. Pete's head was pressed to the side so his head wouldn't find the roof of the car and his knees were bent, hips on either side of him. It couldn't have been comfortable and yet Pete didn't complain but rather seemed reinvigorated by the challenge.
Pete's hands were all over him, trying to peel off as many articles of clothing as he could reach and fast too. His jacket was the first to go, Pete shrugging it off his shoulders in a hurry and throwing it on the backseat without a care. His patterned shirt was next and as Pete was unbuttoning it he stopped halfway through. "You're bleeding." is what he said but Vegas couldn't focus on much more than Pete's weight on his lap, his head dizzy from the way Pete's entire being was focused on him and not much else this cursed night. "Wha-"
"You're bleeding Vegas." Pete said in a whisper as he opened more of his shirt. His fingers skidded along the planes of his bare chest awakening goosebumps in their path. The pad of his index finger traced his side gently until he jumped with a wince.
Pete didn't seem phased by his pained sounds as he brushed on the wound with interest as if trying to inspect it but without the care a doctor would but rather a scientist at a lab rat.
Vegas felt small and helpless his eyes never leaving Pete's curious gaze. Is this how he felt back in the safehouse? Fragile, weak and aroused?
No, he decided. It must have been so much worse than this but the knowledge only made him feel more feral than empathetic.
He tried to pull Pete towards him, his hands grabbing the collar of his suit bringing him down on his lips. "Kiss me Pete." he said and he sounded winded, as if he had been running a marathon.
Pete obliged to his delight kissing him greedily while pressing instantaneously down on his erection. Vegas couldn't feel the pain of his wound on his ribs or hot or cold or anything other than the need to be inside Pete right now.
Pete's hands migrated to his own belt, undoing the buckle and unzipping his pants in a hurry. Vegas tried helping him as he could while also coming to the realization that this was really happening in his fathers car of all places.
'' There's lube and a packet of condoms on the glove box.'' he said to Pete and Vegas was surprised just how affected he sounded by all of this.
To his disappointment Pete actually heeded his command and moved out of his lap but came back only with the bottle of lube he had hidden in the car just in case. And he was so glad he had had the foresight to do so. Vegas looked with great interest the speed and comfort with which Pete simply knew exactly how to work his fingers inside him as if he had done this before. It surely didn't seem like he had any experience of the particular act when they were in the safehouse but Pete still found new ways to surprise him time and time again.
Pete demanded kisses as he kept opening himself up, his moans bleeding into him in waves and affecting him as well. His hands aided him, squeezing the flesh and stretching the skin there earning him a new wave of moans in his delight. '' Just fuck me Vegas. I'm ready.'' Pete begged and Vegas had the decency to wait and stare at him to confirm his claims.
As he slowly felt Pete's wall's closing in on him he could cry from the sheer relief at feeling him so close after all this time. Nothing could compare to this.
Pete's sweat falling in rivulets down on his bare bloodied sternum, his labored breathing mixing with Pete's, the strength of his thighs pressing down on him as he chased his own bliss, using him without much care for his own. It was all too much. This feeling of complete unity in newfound freedom they both could share now.
It was overwhelming.
And as such Vegas found it in him, on the very last seconds before he would erupt to say it.
'' Pete.'' he tried to hold his face in such a tender way, the way he had never done with any lover and meant it, truly and wholly like he did this very moment. The golden ring in his hand felt heavy in his hand right now. Perhaps too heavy to carry the burden of it alone.
'' Pete, will you marry me?'' he asked in a moan and Pete came with a frown and a groan of pleasure of his own. ''What?'' His hips never stopped moving, keeping the momentum so that Vegas could come as well and it became hard to think as he got closer.
'' Please stay with me forever my love.'' he tried saying as the throes of pleasure congregated into one big burst as Pete nodded with a smile.
'' Of course. Anything for you.''