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Vegas checks his phone for the millionth time. It’s almost quarter past nine already. The stakeout should be long over and Pete should be on his way home, so why hasn’t he…
“Vegas,” a voice says.
“What?!” Vegas snaps back, turning his head to look at…
Oh, right. Kinn. The meeting. Fuck.
“Would you kindly pay attention to the issue at hand?” Kinn asks, lifting an eyebrow.
“Yeah. Sure,” Vegas groans, but doesn’t let go of his phone.
It’s easy for Kinn to remain calm. Porsche is sitting right there with him.
“Thank you,” Kinn says, clearly trying very hard to appear all calm and collected and very much better than Vegas. “As I was saying–”
Vegas’ phone dings softly and Vegas is grabbing it before the sound even has time to die down.
-We’re done. I’m fine. It got a little bit out of hand, but none of the blood is mine. Don’t worry. I’m about to head home. Love you.
Vegas reads the text again and again and again.
- Blood? he finally replies.
In the next text, he gets a selfie of his grinning lover sitting in his car, with quite a few spatters of blood on his face. It’s one of the cutest, hottest things Vegas has ever seen.
“Vegas!” Kinn snaps once again. “Do you mind?”
“I do, actually,” Vegas nods. “Or do you really think I don’t have anything better to do than attend your stupid meeting with some business partners your boyfriend managed to piss off in the name of the minor family?”
“Well, the partners are gonna be here within ten minutes, and you promised–”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vegas sighs, quickly types his reply, turns on the silent mode and places the phone back onto the table, display down. Maybe if he cooperates, he’ll be able to get out of the stupid meeting sooner. “Whatever. Bring it on. What is it this time?”
Pete lets out a deep sigh as he shuts the apartment door behind him. Home. Finally.
A soft meow welcomes him and he bends down to rub the cat’s head.
“Hello, Venice,” he murmurs. “Papa’s tired as fuck, sorry. Did Macau feed you before he left, baby?”
When the cat hears the word feed, he turns around and patters away in the direction of the kitchen. Pete chuckles, following the animal. A single look at a note on the fridge confirms that yes, Macau did feed the cat, no matter how hard Venice pretends to be a poor starving child who has never seen a bowl full of food in his entire life and absolutely hasn’t had a single bite in the past two weeks.
“Well, you’re clearly taking after me,” Pete chuckles. “So, a snack?”
Venice whines.
“You know I can see your bowl of dry food is still full, right?” Pete asks as he fishes a packet of creamy snack out of one of the cabinets. “You’re just being dramatic.”
Venice, realizing that he’s lost, looks at him in a way that just screams terrible revenge .
“Thought so,” Pete nods and bends down to empty the packet into the wet food bowl. “Bon appétit, sweetie. Papa’s gonna go take a long, hot shower.”
His phone vibrates as he straightens up. Pete sighs and pulls it out of his pocket. Maybe it’s Vegas informing him that he’s already on his way home. In his last text, he promised Pete to fuck him senseless when he gets his hands on him, and that’s exactly what Pete needs right now. Oh, please, let it be Vegas…
It is Vegas, but he’s definitely not on his way home.
- Help, love. I’m gonna kill the fucking idiot.
Pete snorts.
- Which one?
- The dickhead one.
“Oh, right,” Pete murmurs. “Kinn.”
Now, even though there are days when Pete isn’t exactly against the idea of brutally murdering Kinn, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to do it in front of so many witnesses. Meaning…
Pete smiles.
Meaning that he’s gonna need to take Vegas’ mind off his dick of a cousin and give him something way better to focus on. Like a literal dick.
“Oh. Oh,” Pete purrs. “This is gonna be fun.”
-Oh, but I was just about to go take a shower, Khun Vegas. To wash off the blood and relax my body…
Vegas feels his eyes go wide as he stares at the message, and then even wider when it’s followed by a photo of Pete’s bloodstained collarbone.
Vegas types a quick reply.
-Fuck, love. I’m in a meeting, remember?
Vegas looks around, but Kinn’s currently arguing with a minor gang leader and everyone’s focus is on them.
-I know, Khun Vegas. I just wanted to show you how badly I need ed a shower.
Vegas bites his lower lip.
-I’d say it’s not the only thing you need badly, is it?
-I have no idea what you’re talking about, Khun Vegas.
Pete is doing this on purpose, of course he is. Probably to distract his lover and prevent him from murdering Kinn. Vegas loves him so much for it.
He can feel his blood rushing south with the prospect of what might start happening soon, but he needs to be the responsible one and ask.
-Are you sure about this? Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to get some sleep?
It only takes Pete a few seconds to type his reply.
-I won’t sleep until you get back home, anyway. If you’re in, so am I.
Vegas takes a deep breath to collect himself. Fuck, is he really gonna do this? Sexting in the middle of a mafia meeting, right in front of his cousin?
Oh, who is he kidding. Of course he’s gonna do this.
-All right. Take that shower, darling, you need it. Prepare yourself for me, then put your bluetooth plug in and get dressed in some normal clothes. Text me back when you’re done.
-Yes, Khun Vegas.
Vegas looks up to see Kinn glaring at him. He gives his cousin a sweet smile, then looks back at his phone.
-Don’t forget your collar.
Pete nearly chokes when he sees the text.
He should have expected this, honestly, after the whole Khun Vegas thing, but…
He feels a shiver run down his spine. They only reserve the collar for special occasions, for when Pete really wants to fully submit…
Which, he realizes, is exactly what’s happening now.
“Damn you, Vegas, how did you know?!”
Stupid question, really. Vegas always knows. It almost feels like he can read Pete’s mind. Maybe it’s some sort of a weird dom superpower?
Or maybe it’s just a Vegas thing.
Or the fact that it feels like Vegas and Pete were literally made for each other. Soulmates, basically.
But that doesn’t really matter, right? What matters is that Pete was given an order and he needs to obey. Oh yes, he needs .
The mere idea of having the soft leather collar wrapped around his neck…
He feels a shiver run down his spine. This evening is definitely gonna be fun.
Pete’s shower is taking awfully long and the meeting is making Vegas particularly murderous. Not the greatest combination if you ask him, and Pete’s plan to save Kinn’s li f e via the power of sexting might yet fail if he doesn’t hurry the fuck up.
Especially because Kinn is once again arguing with one of the minor gang leaders and Vegas doesn’t even have the willpower to try to stop him. If Vegas knows his cousin well, Kinn will pull out a gun any moment now. Vegas will probably have to step in then, but for now, he’s content just watching Kinn pick the stupidest hill to die on.
I t’s the only fun he’s gonna get, since Pete clearly–
His phone vibrates and Vegas doesn’t even try to wait before he reaches for it. It’s not like anyone’s paying any attention to him.
“But Kinn,” Porsche peeps. “I really did tell him to stick those drugs in his ass because that’s the only place where shit like that belongs–”
Vegas opens the text and his brain immediately tunes Porsche’s bullshit out.
Pete, his beautiful, lovely Pete is clearly asking for scolding, as he did not obey Vegas’ order. He is sending another selfie, as expected. He’s clearly showered, judging by the wet tips of his hair and the droplets of water on his naked skin, and he has his collar on, a lovely thing made of the softest black leather Vegas could find, but that’s it . Not a single piece of fabric on his beautiful, slightly muscular body.
-Pete, Pete, Pete. Are you being naughty on purpose?
“But how was I supposed to know, Kinn?!” Porsche snaps. “You know I don’t know shit about drugs!”
Vegas rolls his eyes. Yes, Porsche, please announce it loud and clear for everyone to hear .
Another text vibrates and Vegas is ready to praise Pete for actually behaving… And then he sees the photo Pete sent and his heart nearly stops.
It’s all his own fault, of course. When he scrolls back up in the conversation, he realizes that he told Pete to put on some normal clothes, not his normal clothes, and Pete immediately found a way to use this against him.
Clever, amazing Pete.
There are still a few droplets of water on his skin, right above the open collar of Vegas’ own shirt. And not just any shirt, no, the shirt, the one Pete seems to be particularly fond of, the one Vegas wore when they “made merits” in that temple, back when Pete was still just a goofy bodyguard who was so bad at trailing Vegas. The shirt Pete made Vegas wear again when they went to make merits for real after Vegas had recovered. (That day, Pete didn’t try to squirm away when Vegas grabbed his ass.)
That stupid black witchy shirt Vegas bought on a whim, a long time ago, urged by Macau’s neverending oh hia, that thing is just your vibe! The quality is shit, the color is kinda washed out now , but it feels good on Vegas’ skin – and what’s more important, Pete loves the stupid thing, so Vegas will keep it until it literally falls apart.
S hockingly, it never occurred to Vegas to make Pete himself wear it. It should have, really. Looking at the photo, at the elegant collarbone peeking out of the open shirt as if inviting Vegas to lick it…
Chairs screech and when Vegas looks up, he sees Kinn and the gang leader predictably pointing their guns at each other, not to mention all the bodyguards in the room who are currently copying their bosses’ behavior.
“Gentlemen,” Vegas sighs, typing the reply for Pete. “Let’s keep this meeting civil, shall we?”
-You look so beautiful that I’m tempted to kill everyone in here just so I can be with you sooner, love.
Pete laughs softly. Well, this kinda goes against the original goal of this whole sexting session, but Pete can’t bring himself to mind. As far as he’s concerned, he would be grateful if Vegas decided to kill everyone and come home to fuck him.
The shirt was a bad idea. A terrible one, in fact. Pete only put it on to toy with Vegas, but he never expected it to affect him , too. He never expected to get this horny just from… wearing the thing.
It’s not his fault that it’s one of the sexiest pieces of clothing Vegas owns!
And it’s not his fault that when he put it on, he remembered all the occasions when Vegas wore it while fucking him.
Pete bites his lower lip and takes a deep breath . After this, he probably won’t be able to look at the garment without instantly getting hard, which will, of course, encourage Vegas to wear it as often as the laundry schedule will allow.
H e waits for Vegas to text again, but he’s probably busy either preventing murder between Kinn and his business partner, or encouraging it. You never know with Vegas. One one particular occasion h e even brought popcorn to one of those meetings.
It’s not like Pete’s in a hurry to move on with their evening, no. The plug absolutely isn’t pressing against his prostate every time he moves, making his cock even harder in a pair of slim black pants that maybe belongs to Vegas too.
Fuck, Pete just wants Vegas to open the app and start actually playing with him. The mere idea is driving Pete insane with lust. He’s used to Vegas using the toy on him, but they’re usually in the same room and Pete can see the expression on Vegas’ face – and Vegas can see Pete’s reactions and adjust the vibrations accordingly. And yes, they have tried with Pete in a different room than Vegas, but…
This is just something else entirely. The only feedback Pete will be able to give will be through texts, and Vegas won’t even be paying full attention to those.
“Fuck,” Pete whispers, trembling slightly at the idea.
He wants. Oh, he wants .
It’s not like he can’t just switch the thing off if it gets too intense.
Pete’s phone dings softly and Pete immediately scrambles to read the message.
-Is the toy ready, love?
Pete takes a shuddering breath.
-Toy ready, app ready, Khun Vegas.
A few seconds later, Pete feels the first soft vibrations against his prostate. He hums, smiling softly.
Another ding.
-Working, love?
-Yes, Khun Vegas. Thank you, Khun Vegas.
He chuckles to himself, only for the sound to turn into a groan when the intensity of the vibrations increases for a few seconds.
-Just in case you were being a brat.
Which is precisely what Pete was doing, but how the hell did Vegas know?!
-I would never disrespect you like that, Khun Vegas.
The intensity goes up again.
Oh, Pete is going to die tonight.
Vegas is painfully hard in his pants.
It was a bad idea to say yes to this, because now he absolutely can’t focus on the meeting. The only thing on his mind is the fact that Pete is probably squirming on the couch right now, maybe even gasping for breath, his beautiful face all flushed and his hair a mess…
Porsche jumps up from his seat. “What the fuck do you mean the price of the drugs has now doubled? Are you fucking insane?!”
T he temptation to murder everyone in the room is growing more intense with every passing second.
“Gentlemen,” Vegas sighs instead. “I’m sure we can come to a mutual understanding that– Put the fucking gun down, Kinn, or I swear I’m gonna shove it up your ass!”
“What did you just call me?” Kinn blinks, turning to him. “Should I remind you that I’m older than you?!”
“Oh, I am deeply sorry, P’Kinn,” Vegas chuckles. Kinn’s only trying to save face, obviously. He’s definitely aware of the fact that Vegas hasn’t bothered to call him phi ever since the coup. “My behavior is completely unacceptable. I think I should just leave–”
“Sit back down!” Kinn yells before Vegas even lifts his ass from the chair. “And sort this out!”
“I would love to,” Vegas shrugs. “But your boyfriend isn’t making it very easy for me.”
“Hey. Be respectful!” Porsche protests. “I am the head of the minor family!”
“Yes. I know,” Vegas smirks. “You are the head. I am, unfortunately, the brain.”
Porsche turns to Kinn, puffing up his cheeks slightly. “Do we really need him , Kinn?!”
“Yes,” Kinn and Vegas reply in unison. This might be the first thing they have agreed on in the past five years or so.
“Kinn!” Porsche snaps.
Kinn groans, then looks straight at Vegas. “How fast can you be done with this, really?”
Vegas takes his phone, pretending that he’s merely checking the time – but in reality, he just starts one of the fun pulsing programs on Pete’s toy.
“Five minutes,” he says then. “Ten, tops.”
“And how long have we been–”
“Almost an hour.”
“Sorry, Porsche,” Kinn shrugs. “Let’s allow Vegas to try close the deal, shall we?”
The gang leader turns to Vegas and attempts to give him a predatory smile.
Vegas smiles back.
The gang leader goes very, very pale.
Pete is going to murder Vegas.
He takes a deep breath, grabbing the edge of the kitchen counter. He just went to make himself a cup of coffee because he was starting to feel a little sleepy, and then Vegas suddenly changed the pattern of the vibrations to one of those that make Pete completely lose his mind.
Fuck Vegas and his stupidly good memory.
Pete barely stops the moan that’s trying to escape his lips.
He won’t be making that coffee, but that’s okay because he’s definitely not sleepy anymore.
“Fuck you, Vegas, fuck you,” he whispers.
The evening was going so nicely! The toy was keeping Pete in a state of pleasant horniness (with some occasional spikes of excitement when Vegas made the vibrations stronger for a few seconds), but nothing he couldn’t handle.
This, on the other hand, is pure torture.
Which, obviously, is the goal here, but still!
He’s about to pull his phone out of his pocket to beg Vegas to tone it down when he hears the rattle of a key in the front door. His blood instantly turns cold. It can’t be Vegas, Vegas would let him know he’s coming, but Macau is supposed to be at a friend’s, so what the hell–
“Hey, phi, I just forgot something!” the teenager yells from the hall, not even bothering to peek into the kitchen. “I’m gonna grab it and go!”
“Okay,” Pete replies. He hopes his voice doesn’t sound too broken and horny.
Fuck, he really needs his phone now, he needs to stop this now .
He reaches for it, unlocks it…
“Hey, phi,” Macau says, and this time he does peek into the kitchen. “You okay?”
Right, so his voice did sound too broken and horny.
He tries to compose himself. He can do this. It’s easy. Just don’t let Macau find out what exactly is going on here.
“I’m fine,” he says. “Just… tired after that raid.”
Macau frowns at him, but then shrugs.
“Right. Cool. You look a little weird, though. Oh, hang on,” the kid frowns and Pete’s heart stops. “You had a coffee, didn’t you? Phi! You know drinking coffee in the evening makes you all twitchy.”
“I’ll be fine,” Pete sighs. “Don’t worry. I just need to keep myself awake until Vegas comes back home.”
For reasons unrelated to the vibrator in my ass .
“Oh, right, he’s at the…” Macau pauses. He pauses for an awfully long time, staring first at Pete’s neck, then a little lower, at his chest – oh, fuck, Pete actually forgot about… “Is that hia’s shirt, phi?”
Pete isn’t gonna get away with this. He can see it all click in the teen’s head.
“Didn’t you… want to grab something?” Pete asks, voice strained.
“Holy shit!” Macau yelps as he bursts out laughing. “You two are being kinky while he’s in that meeting, aren’t you? Oh god. Oh, I’m so out of here. Phi, you should have just said!”
“And you shouldn’t have been at home!” Pete mutters. “What did you forget, anyway?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Macau grins. “Focus on distracting hia so he doesn’t murder P’Kinn. You’re basically a hero for doing this, phi. Keep it up. Fighting!”
He disappears before Pete can even open his mouth to reply, and it’s probably for the best. What could Pete tell him, anyway? It’s not what it looks like? Bullshit. It’s exactly what it looks like. Maybe worse than that. Macau doesn’t even know about the toy .
Pete moves to unlock the phone again. Fuck, he hopes that whatever the boy wants to grab, he will grab it fast and get out of here, but for now, Pete needs a break–
“Hey, phi, you wouldn’t happen to have a spare bottle of lube, eh?”
The phone nearly slips out of Pete’s grasp.
“I wouldn’t happen…” he repeats. “Macau, which friend are you visiting?!”
“Phi,” Macau replies, smiling innocently. “Look. I tell you and you will be tempted to tell hia once he comes back home, meaning he will want to go save me from being defiled or something, meaning that you won’t get defiled tonight, either, and whatever the two of you are doing right now will be in vain. Is that what you want, really?”
“Fair point,” Pete admits, because Macau is clearly right. Pete can just tell Vegas tomorrow, and then they can interrogate the teen properly. “You have condoms, right?”
“Yes, phi. I still have some of that stash you two threw at me a few months ago when all your tests came back negative.”
“Right,” Pete nods as he takes a few steps towards their first-aid cabinet, trying very hard to ignore the vibrating toy in his ass.
They have bottles of lube hidden all over the apartment, of course, but Pete knows that he actually restocked this particular cabinet only a day or two ago, so one of the bottles is still untouched. He grabs it and throws it to Macau.
“Cool. The good stuff,” the teen says when he looks at he bottle. “Thanks, phi. Enjoy… whatever plans you have with hia. Oh, the shirt looks really good on you, by the way. Makes me glad I won’t be at home tonight, I don’t think my headphones would block out the noise the two of you are gonna make.”
“Probably not,” Pete chuckles. The toy is still vibrating right against his prostate and it’s taking all of his self-control not to start gasping for breath. Yes, he is going to scream tonight.
“I’ll buy something for breakfast. Thanks again, phi. Bye!”
“Bye, Macau,” Pete grins. “Enjoy… whatever you have planned.”
“Oh, I will, phi, I will!”
Macau walks out of the kitchen, fucking finally, and then Pete hears the front door slam shut only moments later.
He waits for a few seconds, his breath speeding up. Now that the kid is gone, all the distraction is gone with him and Pete’s attention switches right back to the toy, toy, nothing but the stupid toy.
Pete groans as he bends over and rests his forearms on the kitchen counter.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he whines softly.
What the hell is Vegas doing? Why isn’t he changing the vibrations? Why did he have to keep it on this pattern, he knows it drives Pete absolutely mad with lust…
Yes, and that’s undoubtedly the reason, the rational part of Pete’s brain suggests helpfully.
Pete can feel his sanity slipping. This is just too much. His brain is turning into mush, all he can focus on are the vibrations against his prostate, the utter pleasure they’re giving him…
He can’t come. He needs to stop this. Fuck, he can’t come, if he comes, Vegas will punish him –
And that’s exactly what pushes Pete over the edge, the orgasm hitting him unexpectedly and brutally .
He moans as his knees turn to jelly and he slides down to the floor, trembling, writhing, breath fast and ragged and heart beating like mad. The pleasure is so intense it’s verging on pain and Pete doesn’t want it to stop, he never wants it to stop, he wants more, needs more, his overstimulated nerves demand… demand…
“Please,” he whispers, even though there’s no one around to actually hear him. “Please. Fuck. Please.”
His whole body is shaking, his hole twitching around the toy that’s still vibrating , and it’s just starting to be too much–
And then it stops.
Pete takes a deep, long, shuddering breath. This might have been one of the best orgasms in his life and Vegas wasn’t even here to witness it. Life truly is unfair.
“Fuck me,” he gasps out. “What the hell. What the actual hell.”
His phone rings and Pete knows he’s screwed . Because the moment Vegas hears his voice, he will know. They’ve had phone sex before, lots of it. Vegas knows exactly what Pete sounds like after an orgasm, and Pete has zero strength left to even try to sound normal.
He answers the call.
“Well,” Vegas’ voice says, sounding vaguely amused. “This was fun. Everyone survived, surprisingly. Heading to my car now, so I should be on my way in a minute or two. How are you feeling, love?”
Pete bites his lower lip.
“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to punish me, Khun Vegas.”
There is a very brief pause, and then Vegas clicks his tongue. Pete can basically see the hungry smile that his lover must be wearing now.
“Oh, Pete,” Vegas purrs. “Are you admitting that you misbehaved?”
“Yes, sir,” Pete murmurs. Vegas doesn’t sound disapproving, no, he sounds amused. That doesn’t mean Pete won’t be punished, though. He can’t fucking wait.
“What rule do we have about this, my love?” Vegas asks softly. Pete can just about see him walking through the main family compound’s corridors, all confident and cocky…
“When we are playing,” Pete whispers, “I am not allowed to come unless you explicitly tell me I can, Khun Vegas.”
“Did I tell you that you can, Pete?”
“No, Khun Vegas.”
“And yet you did. Greedy boy,” Vegas sighs. “But I am feeling generous tonight, so I might let it slip… if you are good for me from now on. Can you be good for me, Pete?”
“Yes, Khun Vegas. Of course, Khun Vegas.”
Pete is trembling with anticipation, eager to obey any command Vegas throws at him. He can feel himself slipping into the comfy headspace where he doesn’t have to think, he only has to do what he’s told…
“Where are you, love?” Vegas asks.
“Kitchen floor,” Pete grins.
He hears Vegas chuckle. “Oh, fuck, really? Damn, I wish I had a camera there. That must have been something.”
“It fucking was.”
“Okay. Okay,” Vegas laughs. “I want you to get up. Don’t forget to drink some water. Then I want you to go to our bedroom. Don’t undress. Don’t take the toy out. Assume position and wait for me. Can you do that for me, beautiful?”
“Yes,” Pete breathes out. “Yes, Khun Vegas.”
“Good. Go, love. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
Vegas ends the call without waiting for a reply, but it’s not like Pete would have given him one. He’s too busy scrambling to his feet to obey his command.
Vegas’ hand is trembling when he grabs the bedroom door’s handle. Knowing what’s waiting for him inside, knowing what their little play session did to his beautiful Pete…
Pete’s voice sounded broken over the phone, almost out of it already, starting to get lost in his head. Vegas can’t wait to see him. The drive back home was endless, pure fucking torture, and Vegas supposes it’s only fair after what he’s put Pete through.
What he’s gonna put Pete through.
He opens the door to find Pete exactly at his spot, like the good boy he is.
He looks exquisite . So beautiful it takes Vegas’ breath away. Kneeling on the floor with his hands between his knees, wrists held together as if bound. His back is perfectly straight, head bent low, eyes closed. His shirt – Vegas’ shirt, technically – is open just the way Vegas always wears it himself, revealing his pale chest marked by faint scars from those belt lashes so long ago.
What a slut, Pete, what a slut .
And then there is, of course, the leather collar sitting around Pete’s long, delicious neck that instantly makes Vegas want to bite, to mark, to own .
Pete doesn’t move a muscle as Vegas enters the room, but he’s visibly shivering . Vegas can tell that it’s taking him lots of effort and discipline to stay in position.
“You look ravishing, love,” Vegas murmurs as he takes a few steps towards his lover. “So perfect for me. You’re really trying to make up for being so naughty, aren’t you?”
Pete knows better than to react to that.
Vegas smiles to himself, standing in front of the kneeling man.
“Eyes on me, Pete,” he orders.
Pete breathes in, deeply, audibly, and lifts his head to look at Vegas. His eyes are very slightly unfocused and filled with lust and longing. He really is slipping already, that much is obvious.
“So beautiful,” Vegas sighs, petting Pete’s slightly disheveled hair. Then he bends down to kiss him, deeply, passionately.
He can’t resist. He’s supposed to pretend to be disappointed that Pete came without permission, but fuck, how can he bring himself to feign displeasure over something he finds so hot ? Pete’s usually perfect self-control slipping like this…
“Did you miss me, my love?” Vegas purrs.
“Yes, Khun Vegas,” Pete whispers, his voice heavy with need.
“Good boy,” Vegas smiles. “Look at you. You look stunning. I want to ruin you. I want to fuck your precious little mouth until you cry.”
Pete takes another shaky breath.
“Whatever…” he starts before his voice fails him. His tongue darts out of his mouth, licks his lips. “Whatever Khun Vegas wants.”
Pete’s eyes are wide, not a single trace of protest in them. He wants .
“Good boy,” Vegas praises him, stroking his face just to feel the inevitable shiver that runs through his lover. “Open your mouth for me, love, and I will give you what you need.”
And also what I need, Vegas adds in the safety of his own mind. He’s painfully hard in his pants and it feels like he will go mad if he doesn’t come soon. And it would be fair, right? Pete has already enjoyed a mind-blowing orgasm, so Vegas should too. Besides, Vegas would like to spend the rest of their evening with the ability to think , which isn’t gonna happen if he stays this fucking horny.
“So pretty,” Vegas coos when Pete obeys his order without hesitation. “I am going to fuck your mouth and then come down your throat and you’re gonna swallow it all, understood?”
“Yes, Khun Vegas,” Pete nods. “Thank you, Khun Vegas.”
Pete’s eyes have that dreamy gaze in them that always lets Vegas know that yes, he’s doing everything right and Pete is enjoying this. His breathing is harsh, he’s shaking all over, but he’s being such a good, obedient boy, his hands never move from their position, his mouth is open and waiting…
“So beautiful,” Vegas sighs as he frees his cock and slides it between those gorgeous lips. He’s not too gentle. Pete can take it, Vegas knows that he can. Pete can take so much, his precious angel…
Pete moans gently, his eyes fluttering shut, and Vegas can’t bring himself to scold him for that. Not when he’s being so good otherwise, he doesn’t even gag , he just takes what he’s given, eagerly and with no hesitation.
V egas grabs a fistful of Pete’s hair and tugs, making his lover moan harder.
Pete is perfect, so perfect, his cheeks already flushed pink. Vegas thrusts into his throat and Pete doesn’t flinch, he just accepts it, even though his eyes start to tear up already …
V egas pulls out, allowing Pete to gasp for breath for a moment before sliding right back into that eager, hot mouth.
“Fuck, I love you,” Vegas murmurs. “You’re perfect, Pete, so perfect, so good, my love.”
P ete has a massive praise kink, Vegas knows, and he’s more than willing to tell his little darling what he loves to hear – especially because it’s true. Pete really is perfect .
He starts fucking Pete’s mouth properly, hard and fast, and Pete lets out a sound that’s almost a whine . Pete is trembling all over, but Vegas has a feeling that if he decided to stop now, Pete might actually murder him. Pete wants, he wants nearly as badly as Vegas.
Pete’s mouth feels like heaven, like it always does. He was born for this, born to suck cock, to give pleasure, to be used , but also worshipped.
Another pause to catch breath. Pete is staring at Vegas, his eyes glistening with tears, lips red.
“Please,” he croaks, voice hoarse. “Please, Khun Vegas.”
Please what, Vegas should ask, but he doesn’t, because he knows. Please fuck my throat, please go harder, please stop holding back, I can take it, I want it.
“Don’t worry, beautiful,” Vegas murmurs as he once again slides back in, still holding Pete’s hair firmly in one hand. “Just a little more patience.”
It’s Vegas who can’t really be patient, though. He tugs at Pete’s hair a little harder as he fucks his face, setting a pace that’s almost brutal. Pete’s eyes roll back into his head, his soft groan vibrating all around Vegas’ cock…
What chance does Vegas have, really?
He moans, his hips stuttering as he comes down Pete’s throat. Pete swallows it all, eagerly, whining softly as his eyes glaze over with the expression of utter bliss.
“Look at you,” Vegas whispers, trying to keep his knees from simply giving out. “Fuck, Pete, so pretty, so good for me…”
He’s babbling, but hey, he knows that Pete will never get tired of being told he’s a good boy, no matter how many times he hears it. It drives him wild with need, wild with lust… Which is exactly what Vegas needs right now.
He’s not done with Pete, oh no.
“That’s enough. Up,” he mutters as he pulls out of Pete’s mouth, even though he would love to stay there, would love for Pete to just keep sucking him off until Vegas gets hard again…
Maybe some other time. During a boring phone call, perhaps. With a totally unsuspecting Kinn.
Oh yes, that sounds like a plan.
Vegas zips his pants back up and he can hear Pete’s sharp intake of breath as he does it.
“What’s wrong, my love?” Vegas coos. “Afraid you won’t get my cock tonight?”
“N-no, Khun Vegas,” Pete replies, but his voice actually falters, slightly but audibly. “I will accept whatever Khun Vegas decides to give me.”
“Mhm,” Vegas hums as he walks around Pete, only to stop behind him, to wrap his arms around Pete’s waist, to press his body against Pete’s back and nuzzle at his slender neck, right below the collar. “Will you really?”
“Yes, Khun Vegas.”
There’s a plan forming in Vegas’ mind, a nasty, cruel plan that makes his cock twitch in interest. Vegas slides one hand down and into Pete’s pants, into the sticky mess Pete made of them, only to find him so hard it must be physically painful.
“Look what you have done. Such a naughty boy,” Vegas whispers right into Pete’s ear. “Do you think you deserve my cock?”
“Khun Vegas…”
“Answer me, Pete.”
“No, Khun Vegas. I came without your permission. I should be punished. I… I should…”
Vegas strokes Pete’s dick harshly, making his lover whimper pitifully. And oh, something wakes up in Vegas, a beast that only appears once in a while, and it wants…
“I don’t think I’m gonna fuck you tonight,” Vegas announces.
“Vegas!” Pete gasps.
Vegas’ hand shoots up from Pete’s waist to his neck and squeezes.
“What did you call me, brat?”
“K-Khun Vegas,” Pete stammers out. “Please. Khun Vegas. Please, I will be good, please–”
“Oh, you will be good,” Vegas chuckles. “I want you to undress for me. Take out the toy, too. We don’t want you to get too exited again.”
“Please!”
“Easy, sweetheart, easy,” Vegas murmurs as he pulls out his hand out of Pete’s pants. “When you are done undressing, I want you to get in bed, on your back, put your hands on the headboard, close your eyes and wait for me. Can you do that for me, Pete?”
“I… yes, Khun Vegas,” Pete nods. His whole body is trembling at this point. He has no idea what he should expect from Vegas now.
“Good,” Vegas smirks, letting go of Pete’s throat. “I’ll go to the bathroom to get myself ready. And when I get back, I’m gonna ride you until you forget your own name.”
Pete is trying to get his breathing under control. He is!
He’s lying on the bed, holding onto one of the headboard bars like his life depends on it. His eyes are closed and he’s focusing on keeping his hands in position, on breathing in, breathing out…
His heart is beating hard in anticipation, jumping about in his chest.
It is a little better than it was a few minutes ago. When Vegas left the room, Pete was trembling so hard that he nearly couldn’t even take off his clothes, let alone fold them. It would be one thing to be waiting here for Vegas to come back to fuck him, but waiting for him while knowing that Vegas is going to bottom? Now that’s something else entirely.
Pete can’t claim that Vegas never allows him to top, of course. That would be a terrible lie. Vegas bottoms, he clearly enjoys it, but he needs to be in a very specific mood to entertain the mere idea of spreading his legs for Pete, and even then there are no guarantees that he won’t end up changing his mind. Which is perfectly okay with Pete, of course. He would rather die than force Vegas into anything.
Pete supposes there are no guarantees Vegas isn’t gonna change his mind now, but… Fuck, something in his face, in his eyes, tells Pete that he won’t. Tonight, Vegas wants.
“Okay, Pete, okay,” he whispers to himself because the mere thought makes him once again start shaking all over. “Breathe. Just breathe.”
It’s still hard for Vegas to let go like that, to give up his control and all his self-imposed restraints. It’s getting better, but it almost feels like he’s scared of being… judged by Pete if he gets too into it?
Which is seriously crazy because he has seen Pete lose his mind during sex, has seen Pete cry and whine and beg and bite into his own arm, and, on one memorable occasion, black out. And he’s never judged Pete for it. It turns him on, in fact.
(In all seriousness, Pete has a feeling that Vegas’ new life goal is to make him black out again.)
Fuck, Pete just wants to see Vegas go completely insane for once, wants to hear him moan and groan and–
The room opens. Vegas is back. Pete knows better than to look, of course, no matter how much he wants to. He keeps his eyes closed and waits. The mattress dips somewhere by his thighs as Vegas crawls onto the bed, and then Pete feels him straddle his hips…
“Open your eyes, beautiful.”
Pete doesn’t want to. He’s back to trembling violently and he feels like a single look at Vegas might make him come. Vegas must be heartbreakingly beautiful right now, Pete knows.
“Pete?” Vegas says softly, so softly that Pete knows it’s not the Khun Vegas persona speaking – it’s just his Vegas, his gentle, caring lover. The thought helps Pete calm down a little.
He opens his eyes only to see Vegas looking at him tenderly, questioningly.
“I’m okay,” Pete assures him, smiling. “I just… got a little lost in my own thoughts.”
“Do you need–”
“No. I’m good,” Pete murmurs. “Keep going. Please. Please, Khun Vegas.”
Vegas nods and Pete can see him slide the mask back on, see the tenderness vanish from his eyes and his face harden – and damn, that just makes Pete shudder yet again.
“That’s more like it, my little darling,” Vegas coos, straightening up. “Nice and obedient. Perfect.”
Pete doesn’t reply. He merely grips the headboard bar tighter and allows his gaze to roam down from Vegas’ face and over his torso, criss-crossed with a mess of pale, raised scars. A terrible mistake, as seeing those scars makes Pete want to sit up and kiss every single one of them.
It took him ages to convince Vegas that the scars don’t repulse him, that he loves them and finds them beautiful, an eternal reminder of the injuries that nearly took Vegas away from him – but also of the fact that Vegas survived, that he came back, back to Pete. That he clung onto the tiniest sliver of life within him and made it through, even though the only reason why the doctors didn’t give up on him was Tankhun’s promise of generous rewards for all of them if they keep the bastard alive.
“Pete,” Vegas says, this time in a tone that’s mildly scolding. “My eyes are up here, love.”
Pete sighs, looking back at Vegas’ face – gentle, beautiful face that doesn’t match his voice at all.
“I’m sorry, Khun Vegas.”
Vegas clicks his tongue and reaches down to place his hand onto Pete’s throat – a promise and a warning.
“You keep getting distracted,” he tuts. “Do you need help to get back into the right headspace, gorgeous?”
Pete doesn’t think he can get back into it. His mind is being all weird after the little break. He wants, though, desperately longs to stop thinking again, to become Vegas’ mindless toy…
“Anything Khun Vegas wants.”
“Correct answer,” Vegas purrs and squeezes, making Pete gasp for breath – gasp in vain because Vegas’ fingers are strong and unrelenting, holding just firmly enough to prevent air from getting into his lungs–
Vegas lets go and Pete wheezes, breathing in deeply for a few seconds, right until Vegas closes his fingers again.
He does this a few times and Pete can feel his sanity slip a little more with every single round. Black spots start dancing in front of Pete’s eyes, driving him crazy, pushing him deeper and deeper into that wonderful state of full submission.
Vegas is so good to him, he knows exactly what Pete needs and always, always gives it too him.
“My precious boy,” Vegas purrs. “You look gorgeous, and you’ll look even more gorgeous once the bruises on your neck bloom to tell everyone that you’re mine.”
The thought sends yet another shiver down Pete’s spine.
“Please,” is all he can whisper, voice hoarse.
“Shhh,” Vegas coos. “Don’t worry, love. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
Pete didn’t even notice Vegas positioning himself to take Pete’s cock, but he must have done it because Pete is suddenly sliding into the tight heat and Vegas is yet again wearing that expression of shocked bliss he usually gets when he bottoms, his eyes rolling back into his head, mouth hanging slightly open… Like he still cannot believe that it actually feels good.
Pete moans, holding onto the headboard bar so hard that he might actually bend it soon, trying so hard to resist the urge to simply reach out and touch Vegas.
“Fuck. Oh, fuck,” Vegas whispers as he bottoms out, both palms currently placed on Pete’s chest for support. He pauses, taking a deep breath. “Pete.”
Pete bites his lower lip to keep himself from replying.
“So good for me,” Vegas murmurs, bending down to kiss Pete gently. “So perfect. So obedient. Don’t you dare move, Pete, you hear me?”
“Yes, Khun Vegas,” Pete replies, knowing that it will take all his self control to stop himself from snapping his hips up into Vegas’ hot body.
“Good boy. My precious darling,” Vegas smiles, rolling his hips in a way that’s positively sinful. “You’re nothing but my fuck toy, remember that. Mine to use.”
Pete bites his tongue this time because the urge to say oh fuck yes is almost too strong.
Vegas nuzzles at Pete’s earlobe, his breath hot and ragged.
“Don’t hold back, though, love. I want to hear you. I want to know how much you’re enjoying this, sweetie. Understood?”
“Yes, Khun Vegas.”
“See? You can behave,” Vegas grins, straightening up and rolling his hips yet again.
Pete groans. This could become too much all too quickly, and Pete isn’t sure if he can really stop it. He wants, wants so bad, he’s been horny as hell ever since he knelt down on the floor to wait for Vegas, then it got worse when Vegas fucked his face, and now the goddamn choking…
“Focus,” Vegas growls. “Don’t you dare. You’re mine and I’m not done with you yet. I’ve barely started.”
Shit, Pete really is going to die tonight.
Vegas’ tongue darts out to lick his lips as he lifts his hips only to grind them back down, moaning softly. He is beautiful and Pete longs to kiss him but he can’t, he can’t…
“Oh, fuck. Fuck,” Vegas whimpers, closing his eyes and frowning slightly. He buries his fingers into the skin on Pete’s chest, as if he needs more support to ride Pete’s cock properly. “Oh, hell yes.”
Pete only stares, his breath taken away by Vegas’ beauty.
There is something very different about him tonight, about his expressions, the urgency of his movements. Vegas usually enjoys bottoming, yes, but not the way he’s clearly enjoying it right now. His cheeks are deep pink, the color also spreading to his neck and his chest, making Pete want to lick. His eyes are closed and his mouth hangs open in an expression of utter ecstasy.
“Pete!” Vegas moans.
Fuck, Pete has never seen him like this. It’s like his control is slipping, like he’s finally allowing himself to simply feel, and Pete has no idea how that happened but he fucking loves it. There’s a soft smile tugging at the corners of Vegas’ lips as he pants and whines and gasps, so incredibly beautiful with his hair sticking to his forehead and–
Vegas wraps his fingers around Pete’s throat and squeezes, taking his breath away for real.
Pete whines pitifully as black dots start dancing around his vision yet again. This is really starting to be too much, and he is starting to feel his orgasm slowly creeping up on him…
Vegas’ hips falter, slowing down, and Vegas lets out a frustrated grunt. He lets go of Pete’s throat and places his palm on the bed for support, biting his lower lip.
It’s his old injuries acting up again, Pete is sure of that, and he can only hope Vegas won’t be a stubborn prick about it as usual, that he won’t drag it on until the pure agony stops him. It’s happened before, way too many times, and it could definitely happen again today. Unless…
Oh, that could work .
“Khun Vegas,” he moans. “Khun Vegas, please, let me touch you, please, let me make you feel good…”
Vegas opens his eyes at that, looking at Pete sharply. He knows damn well what Pete is doing.
Fuck .
That could either go very well… or very wrong.
He watches Vegas pause slightly, clearly thinking about it, considering whether saying no is really worth keeping his face. Pete holds his breath, waiting for the final decision.
It doesn’t take long before Vegas nods.
“Okay. Since you’re so good for me and asked so nicely,” Vegas smirks, but his eyes are incredibly grateful. “Put your hands on my hips.”
P ete lets go of the headboard without hesitation and does as he was told, gently stroking Vegas’ pale skin. Vegas sighs and straightens up a bit, moving his palm s back to Pete’s chest. His frown immediately vanishes.
“Okay,” he murmurs. “Now fuck me.”
“Vegas–”
“Watch your tongue,” Vegas growls. “Or you won’t get to come tonight.”
He knows that’s barely a threat, of course, as a) Pete is actually into that, and b) Vegas can very rarely resist the temptation to watch Pete fall apart. Nevertheless, Pete decides to play along. He grips Vegas’ hips a little tighter, bends his legs to get some support and snaps his own hips up. He’s not gentle. He knows Vegas wouldn’t really appreciate that.
Vegas’ eyes go wide again and he moans softly, all his pain seemingly forgotten.
“More,” he orders. “Properly. Come on.”
Pete is more than happy to obey. He braces his feet against the mattress and starts fucking Vegas in earnest, his pace almost cruel . That forces a desperate whine out of Vegas’ throat as the expression of utter shock returns to his face. Pete watches in awe as Vegas’ eyes roll back into his head once more, and he knows that yes, Vegas is losing all his self-control, finally, perhaps for the first time in his life.
“Pete!” Vegas gasps, falling forward, burying his face into Pete’s chest. “Oh, fuck, please. Please. Please keep going, please, I’m begging you, Pete…”
Pete’s thighs are starting to kill him , but this, this gives him new strength. One of his hands leaves Vegas’ hips to wrap around his waist instead, holding him firmly.
Vegas is whining and moaning like Pete has never heard him do before – almost screaming , even. His fingers are clawing at Pete’s skin, and fuck, Pete can’t take this, the pain is driving him insane with lust.
And then Vegas truly screams , a long, desperate wail that makes Pete snap up harder as Vegas buries his teeth into Pete’s shoulder, his whole body trembling, trembling…
T here is no chance Pete could fight off his own orgasm at this point, not when Vegas’ hole pulses around his cock, not when Vegas sobs . Pete comes, shockingly hard, his fingers digging deep into Vegas’ flesh.
His hips keep thrusting on their own, though, keep thrusting until Vegas lets out an overstimulated whimper. That finally makes Pete still, makes him just hug Vegas tight and breathe in his scent as they both come down from the height of their bliss. Vegas is still trembling slightly, which only makes Pete hold him tighter, just to protect him, to help–
“So,” Vegas suddenly chuckles. “You actually came without permission again.”
“Feel free to punish me for it tomorrow,” Pete smirks.
Vegas sighs deeply and finally looks up, eyes glinting with happiness.
“How disrespectful,” he grins.
“Oh, thank you,” Pete winks and leans in to kiss Vegas’ forehead. “Are you okay?”
“Absolutely. You?”
“Perfectly fine,” Pete smiles. “This was fucking amazing. Thank you, darling.”
“Mhm…” Vegas hums, resting his head on Pete’s shoulder again. “Incredible. You know, it’s now occurring to me that I never actually tried riding you before. Big mistake.”
“Scandalous,” Pete agrees. “Wanna do it again some time?”
“Hell yes. Maybe soon.”
“Good. Fuck. Good.”
Vegas laughs at that and turns his head to kiss the bite mark he left on Pete’s shoulder . It’s a deep one – it nearly broke the skin and it’ll take ages for it to go away. The thought makes Pete feel all giddy inside.
“Give me a few minutes,” Vegas murmurs. “Then I’ll give you proper aftercare.”
“No need. I’m fine, I swear. All I need is a shower. And maybe a glass of water, but I can wait. Though…”
Vegas frowns. “What is it?”
“My right hip is starting to cramp up,” Pete laughs. “Could you…”
“But Pete,” Vegas pouts. “I’m so comfy.”
“Move, or I will move you, you bastard,” Pete growls, narrowing his eyes at Vegas, even though he can’t really stop the smile that’s tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Will you? Move me, then.”
V egas, of course, knows that Pete is fully capable of carrying out his threat, so he only lets out an undignified squeak when Pete grabs him by the shoulders and gently throws him aside, only to immediately cover Vegas’ body with his own and kiss him deeply.
“There,” he murmurs. “Moved.”
“I can see that,” Vegas grins against Pete’s lips. “And what now, eh?”
Now you could maybe fulfill your promise to fuck me, Pete is tempted to say, despite his exhaustion and the fact that he’s already come twice that night. He could do one more, he thinks.
But Vegas is being so cute and playful that Pete doesn’t even want to have more sex. He just wants to joke around and flirt some more.
And then there comes a scratch at the door, followed by a long, whiny meow.
“Now,” Pete sighs, “I will probably go open the door for your son who clearly misses you.”
“My son? I didn’t even want to adopt the cat!”
“Yes, that’s why I keep finding you asleep on the couch with him in your lap.” Pete sits up, patting Vegas’ thigh. “Come on, baby. Let’s have that shower and go to bed.”
“I am in bed, though.”
Pete narrows his eyes. “ Vegas .”
“Pete?” Vegas chuckles, batting his eyelashes.
“Get your stupid ass out of the bed, Vegas, or I swear I’ll just drag you to the bathroom.”
“Drag me, then.”
Pete rolls his eyes. So this is how Vegas wants to play it. Well, let him have his wish.
Pete gets out of the bed, only to immediately bend down and lift Vegas up bridal style. It’s a bit of a struggle, but it’s not like he’s never done it before.
“Pete!” Vegas snorts, his whole face shining with happiness. “You said drag.”
“Yeah, but then I thought this might be a bit more comfortable. Is it?”
“Very.”
“Great. You’re opening the door, by the way.”
“Oh, am I.”
“Wanna end up on the floor, darling?”
“I’m opening the door.”
“Thought so.”
“But you’ll be the one explaining to my son why you are forcing his father to take a shower just when the poor child wants his cuddles.”
“The poor child can wait for five more minutes.”
There’s another long, desperate whine just as they reach the bedroom door.
“Yeah,” Vegas chuckles. “He’ll probably just seize my side of the bed and refuse to move so we’ll both have to share yours. Again.”
H e opens the door. Venice runs right past them and jumps up onto the bed, only to immediately turn around and stare at them accusingly.
“Right,” Pete smirks. “What a tragedy. Remind me, when was the last time we didn’t share my side of the bed?”
“It’s not my fault yours is comfier.”
“And here I thought you loved me and wanted to be close to me.”
Vegas smiles at that, pulling himself up to kiss Pete’s cheek.
“Always, darling. You know that.”
“Yeah,” Pete agrees, smiling back. “Of course I do. Shower?”
“Oh, yes, please.”