So, I’m kind of still stuck back here in that parking garage in Ep 14, where new layers just keep opening up, particularly this part:
The next time Vegas sees Pete after the scene behind Yok’s bar, Pete is back at Kinn’s side. The first time Vegas sees Pete in the minor family’s assault on the main family compound, Pete is covering Kinn …
Because the level of this only just hit me. Like, yes, Pete has repeatedly shown Vegas - since decking him at the safehouse and running off - that he’d rather be the main family’s dog than Vegas’s dog, but Vegas also has specific issues with Kinn, and Pete knows this. The first thing that Pete tells Porsche about Vegas is essentially that Vegas tries to measure up to Kinn, and practically the first thing Pete starts excavating during his impromptu therapy sessions with Vegas at the safehouse is to ask Vegas, Why do you have to compete, and they’re absolutely specifically talking about Kinn. And then Pete turns around and not only runs back to the main family but back to Kinn - in at least two situations in which Kinn and Vegas are literally faced off after that, Pete is standing there on Kinn’s side, against Vegas, because apparently, Kinn has won Pete from Vegas, and Vegas has lost to Kinn again.
Which leads to that moment in the parking garage (before the beatdown and the love confession), when Vegas tells Kinn he can’t decide where to shoot him and very dramatically says the head or the heart, and he points his gun down at Porsche on the ground, and I’m suddenly like, oh shit. Because there are a million ways we’ve seen through the course of the show that Pete is Porsche and Porsche is Pete, that Vegas is Kinn and Kinn is Vegas, in innumerable crazy-glue, bubble-gum and string parallels (including both Kinn and Vegas continually allowing themselves to be puppeted by their respective shitty fathers into doing things that, directly or indirectly, hurt the person they love most). And yeah, we’ve got that apocryphal knowledge from the book that Vegas fucks all of Kinn’s boys, but this is different, this isn’t like Vegas wanting to mark up Porsche in some hotel room to piss off Kinn, it’s not like Vegas wanting to steal Porsche’s affections as something to hold over Kinn – this is about Vegas threatening to take away Kinn’s heart, the person he loves most, forever, the way that Kinn has already taken away (back) Vegas’s heart, the person he loves most - as far as Vegas knows, forever. There’s an awful kind of symmetry here, Porsche and Pete are exactly equivalent in that moment, and this is payback rather than one-up-man-ship, in a way it’s never been before. And I’m not even sure Vegas is conscious of this at this point, but it’s super-interesting to me, because it provides another – even subconscious – reason for his suicidal agreement to follow his dumbass dad in the assault on a fortress, not just because he’s still trying to please the shitty father who’s never going to be happy with him.
Anyway, this ALSO leads me to that poolside scene, again, when Pete says he’s hungry, and Vegas asks whether someone else can take him to eat – that’s not some random hypothetical someone. That’s Kinn. Who Pete has already specifically chosen over Vegas, to be with rather than being with Vegas, and that’s why Pete’s final choice of Vegas here is so important.
hahaha just realised that in ep 14, everytime pete saw vegas and was with him, vegas' life was at threat. like there was so reprieve. and vegas placed himself at the mercy of pete. in the parking lot, when the other bodyguards come running, vegas turns to look at them, and then turns back to look at pete, and with no words said, just by the look on his face only, he's there asking him "what are you gonna do now with me, pete? my life's in your hands.". and when pete saves him, vegas already feels that there's little to no chance that he is going to make it out alive today. so he tells pete that he loves him, perhaps thinking that those would be his last dying words to pete. that if anything, he'd die knowing that pete is safe. and it'd be a pleasure to die by his hands, knowing atleast that means that pete is alive, if he's the one killing him.
and then again in the library where vegas sees his dad's dead body, vegas points his gun at korn, and pete points his gun at vegas, traumatised, and says "vegas, don't.". and pete's taken back to the parking lot and vegas' plea to him for it to be pete that kills him. and they don't even get the slightest bit of reprieve, because that opportunity is here already, testing pete, challenging pete - can you do it, pete? ('shoot me!!! i don't think you can, and you know why.' would be ringing in pete's ear like a blaring siren over and over again in that moment, mocking pete.). and if that isn't painful enough, the rest of the bodyguards join and point their guns at vegas, circling around him. and pete has to be a part of that circle then, too.
and i think pete seeing that. experiencing that. "that" being the fact that if he carries on, if they (vegaspete) carry on like this, on opposite sides, this predicament of vegas being on the other side of pete's gun, and pete having to constantly go through the agony of it, will never cease. that one day, he'll be given the task burden to kill him, and he will have to kill him. and then seeing vegas on the floor, with nothing left, looking up to korn. and knowing vegas' life was at korn's mercy in that instance, and pete knowing how much vegas would be hating that, hating owing that to korn, seeing him flee without even meeting his eyes despite telling him that he loves him, futher hammering it into pete that vegas at this point is only full of self-loathing, on a knife's edge, and that if pete doesn't go now, doesn't decide now, doesn't act now, he'll be placed in a situation for the 3rd time today where vegas will risk losing his life and he'll lose him. because this time, vegas won't even fight back. won't run away from the chance of ending it all. after all, what else is there left to live for? his dad's dead, pete is safe, and macau deserves better. vegas would embrace death.
so pete resigns and for the 3rd time, he sees vegas' life at risk. only this time, vegas himself is the one doing so. and that image is more harrowing to pete than anything else. his eyes, when he is clinging onto vegas as he weeps on the ground in his hold, look traumatised, the light from them gone. and vegas still won't look at him.
and when he finally does, in his vulnerable, open, tender glory, vegas gets snatched away from pete. all day, you know, the warning signs were there. and each time, they somehow escaped vegas dying and pete having to kill him. this time, pete doesnt even get the chance to point his gun at vegas. somebody else does that. and vegas' final dying plea to pete remains just that, a plea. that had vegas died, he'd have died telling pete that he loves him, but also that he doesn't see himself worthy or fit or good enough to feed pete, that somebody else more worthy and fit and good enough for pete could do so. could love pete better. that atleast pete is alive for that.
and not that i think pete didn't before, but now, pete cherishes vegas' life, even more than vegas does himself. vegas isn't invincible and he's swimming in a sea of sharks. vegas knew it wasn't safe and yet he still risked it all for pete, just to see him again, to apologise to him, behind the bar. was ready to hold the barrel of the gun to his chest so that all pete had to do was pull the trigger on him and put the bullets, however many he desired, through him. told pete that if his absence is what he wanted, then vegas would give him that.
and even now, that remains true. if you were to ask vegas right now if he would still be willing to let pete go, that if pete wanted to run, would he let him? he'd say yes, if that is what pete wants. if you were to ask him, would you give pete your absence, if that is what pete wanted? he'd say yes, if that is what pete wants.
but what pete wants is to follow his heart now, always. vegas has unlocked that from with him. this desire to be honest to himself. if that means killing someone in cold blood because they put the bullets through vegas, not him, and how dare they? how dare they take what is his? then he will.
because one thing is certain: when vegas is surrounded by death, he is never alone. pete is stood right there, with him. just that it's not on the other side of the gun, where pete is pointing it at vegas, anymore. instead, the gun points at them both, now.
riffing off a conversation with @minorfamilysupremacy:
one of the things that I really love about vegaspete (and this is just my personal opinion) is that, to me, they don't seem fated to end up together
yes, they're strange puzzle pieces that fit perfectly, yes, they're the only ones for each other. but there's nothing about their story that is inevitable. in fact there are so many moments where if just one little thing had changed they never would have fallen together at all. their shared trauma, their acquaintanceship before the timeline of the show, pete being ordered to spy, pete offering to go clear porsche's name, everything in the safehouse. any one of these elements changes and they just continue as they had been before- distant objects orbiting each other, curious and observant, but never pushed together close enough for the gravity to drag them in
and even when all these little things do line up (because maybe that is fate) and they do fall together they still fuck up again and again, they're given chances to leave, they struggle and fight and the cosmic unliklihood of them not working out is a constant presence BUT
pete has a chance to leave and comes back. vegas could fuck it up again but he apologises. pete chooses to follow his heart, vegas chooses to be honest, it is not the universe pushing them together, it's all them
for me, it makes it all the sweeter that they find each other and can't live without each other, because it wasn't fate. for all that they're perfect for each other, there are millions of versions of this story where they stay exactly as they have been (lonely and unfulfilled, never finding that other puzzle piece) and even more where everything ends in tragedy
but in this version of the story not only do they find each other, but they stay with each other, and that is down to them choosing each other. and that's so much better than fate choosing for them
Pet (and food): disconnect and reconnect / rage vs love / EP13 vs EP14
What the linguist in me found super interesting is the shift in connotation (that is strong emotive meaning) that the word PET underwent between episode 13 and episode 14 and how the two scenes in which it is used are parallel to each other.
Two things to note before continuing reading this post
1. PET is a loaded word, used by Vegas in regards to Pete in the first half of episode 11. I did make an analysis on that and this post won’t make sense without having read it.
2. It was not used again in episode 11 after Pete escaped on the pier, and never in episode 12 in regards to Pete.
EPISODE 13
Now the word Pet resurfaced suddenly again in episode 13. And if you look at the context closely enough, the reason why it resurfaced should be clear enough.
What are you looking at? Eat!
Your papa was here?
Are you gonna eat it or not?
What happened to your face?
Leave it alone!
Is this the way you're supposed to be living?
Give yourself up to the main family. Mr. Korn is not cruel.
Isn't my freaking life like this because of them?
It's up to you, Vegas. It's your choice.
Don't you ever think that just we had sex and you could say anything.
Anyhow, you're just my pet.
Vegas and Pete hit really close to me. That reaction, that rage, the I need to hurt because I am hurting speaks to me. Sometimes there is a rage you really can't control and you would like to, but it just stems so deep it is impossible to contain.
Just like that reaction really is Vegas' way of dealing with his hurt? Because his father just left and destroyed the food he was making. He went against him for the first time and he was hit. But, and this is where my my brain always stops, he made the food again, he made the food because he cares about Pete. Still in his turmoil and all his hurt he still does it. And then Pete asked about it, and Vegas knows how he is and so he says "leave it alone" but Pete can't and Pete talked about Korn and that is just the worst thing possible to say in that situation for him? Because he is used to seeing the main family as the reason his life is like that? Because he completely blows up as soon as you mention them, like in episode 10 with Porsche? Because his feelings of self worth are tied with his father and his inferiority complex? And then Pete mentioned choice and when did he ever have a choice? Was it a choice to be abused his whole life and have to deal with his father? And just how can he do it now? And so those two sentences and all the baggage just add to an already unstable situation thanks to his father hitting him earlier after he rebelled thanks to Pete?
And sometimes, not that I am condoning it, mind you. But that rage just stems from the hurt and it's a self defense mechanism because Vegas is always like a hurt animal and he does not want to hurt Pete and he doesn't mean it but it's like impossible to stop when he starts?
And so the spilled food and the choking and the angry words he does not mean because Pete just hurt him even if unwillingly?
And so the end result is him using pet in his “dehumanizing” connotation, a way for Vegas to punish both himself and Pete. Not because he thinks of Pete as his pet but because he is feeling hurt and betrayed and he is missing the emotional stability to deal with being hurt by the person he trusts and loves the most.
So again we leave episode 13 with pet having regained its most negative connotation and with food spilled and wasted, with Vegas having used them in rage to destroy himself and Pete, creating a disconnect between them.
EPISODE 14
What I find poetically beautiful is how the same two concepts are then used in episode 14 by Pete in the complete opposite way.
Because you see, the word pet does have another connotation, a powerful one. Whoever does have a pet knows it also stands for love and care and affection and belonging. And again, Vegas does know this. He had the hedgehogs and he loved them. And so Pete takes those two concepts, used in episode 13 to destroy and he creates with them a bridge of connection.
Vegas. Stop. What are you doing?
There's nothing left.
I'm here, Vegas.
I'm here.
Vegas.
Why did you follow me, Pete?
I got nothing left.
Let me go!
No!
Why did you follow me, Pete?
I got nothing left.
Would you stop saying that you got nothing left?
I'm right here.
And don't turn your back on me like this.
Because...
Because I'm hungry.
Are you very hungry?
Can someone else take you to eat?
You dare push me away?
You dare push me away, Vegas?
And why the heck did you tell me that you wanted to be with me?
I'm your pet, aren't I?
And I'm hungry now.
And you walked out.
So I had to come find my owner.
What I find stunning is how this complete reversal comes about. Because if you look at it closely enough, this scene is also in a way a parallel of the seduction scene in episode 12. Because everything Vegas loves leaves him, and even if Pete says he is here what are his reasons for being here exactly? Vegas asks him two times why Pete is there, and pushed off the ledge, Pete finally and consciously admits his feelings.And this scene comes after him resigning, after he shed his mask(go read @hael987 post), after he shed his armor of steel and finally accepted the value of his feelings, leaving the neediest/hungries part of himself open finally for the world to see.
If you pay enough attention, before and after, you will notice that the one who is always giving and seeking direct verbal confirmation of feelings is Vegas, the one more in touch with them is Vegas. Vegas is the one sure of what he feels and the one who understands what Pete feels. Pete uses metaphoric language or misdirection or implications.
And again, isn’t it just so poetic and empowering to take something used to hurt, flipping it on its other side and transforming it in a living metaphor for love?
Taking all the hurt a word can have and reclaiming it for your own, transforming it into something beautiful and powerful.
Because for someone so used to keeping what he is contained in a cage, hidden behind a mask, being explicitly verbally direct is a challenge. And again, if you are not used with dealing with them, feelings are hard and difficult and talking about them when you have never is like cracking yourself open for the world to see and so the use of metaphor to make yourself understood and convey in the best way you can.
And the thing is food is something they both see as a love language and has opened the door and Pete is hungry for all the nourishment, all the love, all the feelings Vegas can give him.
And not only the love, but also it seems to me as
“I can swallow the hurt you give, take it into myself and transform it into something beautiful, meaningful and for something for you to own and to keep and taking the hurt and giving it new life, taking the pain and transforming it into love in order to achieve a new shape”.
And having shed the old skin, having killed Pete the bodyguard, it is also Pete in this scene that is going through a completely new identity, a rebirth of the self as a form of love. And the beauty of it is that being now completely sure of his worth, of the love he inspired and completely grounded in his feelings, he can accept all definitions in regards to himself because “ I am me whatever I call myself, I accept this part of me and you. Because I know you love me and I love you”
And Pete takes it also one step further creating a two-way pathway by using the word "my owner", because it further creates a connection, a bond. A sense of belonging to each other, it is also a way of owning back.
A sense of responsibility to give Vegas, a sense of possession, something for Vegas to own that won't leave and won't die and will remain there. And this becomes even more powerful if we consider the element of loyalty Vegas has always been searching for? The feeling of being for the first time completely and fully chosen above the main family.
And again Pete knows that to be owned is also to own. Because, and this is important, giving yourself is a gift that marks, and gives life and new purpose and love, and this is just what Vegas needs in this moment.
So we have on one side pet and slave and dehumanisation, food spilled. On the other side, we have pet and love and deep submission and providing food
Because it is important to keep in mind that BDSM is a lifestyle, it is not a scene or a play. It colors interactions and behaviors and word connotations.
All the kink talk has been peer-reviewed and approved by @lutawolf. If you are not part of the kink community, please always check with those who are(lovely people of the fandom, helping educate others) instead of spreading misinformation. That is disrespectful and on par with the book that shall not be named.
CODA
The ending scene provides a final closing of the pattern with pet and food.
We really come full circle because this once the one providing the food is Pete. And how wonderful it is that it’s for both Vegas and Macau?
And again we have Vegas always asking for affirmation and Pete indirectly answering with “I just wanna follow my heart” and that is like tremendous growth for Pete, the way he decides to be ruled by feelings
and that answer is enough for Vegas and then
“From now on you’re no longer my pet. You’re the most important person in my life” and that’s because that is loyalty and love and care and belonging when he is at his lowest, just for himself.
Another not-quite-fic nobody asked for because I have no time to write it properly but it’s been taking over my brain for like three days.
So picture this: touch-starved, affection-starved Vegas gets drunk one night and ends up booking a professional cuddler for a 2-hour session. He keeps telling himself he’s not gonna go, he’s gonna ghost the guy, cancel, make an excuse, whatever. But somehow he still ends up on a stranger’s doorstep, ringing the doorbell just in time for his cuddle appointment.
The cuddler, Pete, just about knocks Vegas over with his blinding, dimpled smile when he opens the door. Vegas was half-convinced, even standing there waiting to be let in, that he’d take one look at the guy and chicken out. Just leg it right back to his bike before he could even say hello.
But instead he’s letting Pete lead him inside, past a quaint living room and kitchen into what he calls the “happy room.” It has a mattress on the floor littered with big, fluffy pillows and a variety of blankets—knit, quilted, fleece. A few fairy lights are strung up on the walls, and to one side there’s a little movie projector on a table next to an aloe plant. It’s all very…cozy. Vegas stands there in the middle of it stewing in his very uncozy leather jacket and boots and skepticism while Pete walks him through the rules (no touching private areas, no kissing, no sexual advances, etc) and a few forms.
After all that, it’s time to cuddle. Pete is in a T-shirt and sweats, but he reassures Vegas—who didn’t ask—that he can be as dressed or undressed as he likes as long as his underwear stay on. Vegas stays dressed, only toeing off his boots so he doesn’t get anything dirty.
And then they. Well. They spoon.
Vegas thought he knew what spooning was, but Pete’s a professional and it shows. He’s got the whole thing down to an art form. Vegas has this idea that he’ll be the big spoon at least, rather than have his back to a stranger. But somehow he ends up with his head pillowed on Pete’s bare arm, their feet tangled together, Pete’s crotch flush against Vegas’s lower back. He’s not hard. It would be weird if he were, right? Very weird. Vegas booked him for cuddles, not sex. Pete’s a professional. His dick is professional.
Vegas’s dick is not professional. It is, in fact, taking the cuddling very personally. The longer he lays there, cocooned in Pete’s warm, lightly muscled arms, sinking into the places where their bodies align, the clearer it is that before his two hours are up, Vegas is gonna get kicked out of the cute—cute? his brain squawks—professional cuddler’s house for getting a boner almost the second Pete touched him.
He imagines leaping off the bed in a coordinated fury, grabbing his boots and making a run for it before Pete can notice and charge him some kind of erection fee, or worse, say something sympathetic like oh that happens to everyone or nothing to be embarrassed about. It is something to be embarrassed about. Fuck, if his dad thought he was pathetic before—
“You’re very tense, Vegas,” Pete says softly, uncritically.
“Am I.” It’s said through gritted teeth.
“And you’re sweating.” Is that Pete’s nose in his hair? “You might be more comfortable without the leather jacket, if that feels doable for you.”
If it feels doable. Vegas wants to tie him up. Show him what feels doable right now.
Pete takes his silence for discomfort. The arm sling around Vegas’s waist shifts, Pete’s hand coming up to pet—pet!—his hair gently. “Just a suggestion, no pressure. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Vegas, I promise.”
Vegas grits his teeth and sits up in a huff, stripping off his jacket and flinging it in a random direction at lightning speed. He’s back in Pete’s arms before his brain can catch up, cradled against his surprisingly solid chest, glaring at the fairy lights on the wall and trying not to notice the flush creeping up his neck.
He doesn’t have to see Pete’s face to know he’s smiling. The flush deepens. But then those arms are around him again, and it feels so nice, so cozy, that Vegas is melting into it without even realizing.
The two hours fly by. Pete has him try out different positions, talking him through each one in a gentle, soothing voice. Some people like to feel more childlike, like they have someone watching over them, Pete tells him as he arranges Vegas’s head in his lap. Some people like to feel freer to give and receive affection, so Pete puts them on their sides facing each other, his head tucked into Vegas’s neck. They must try a dozen different configurations, and Vegas is rock-hard for all of them, but Pete doesn’t say a word about it, even though Vegas is fully prepared to jump out the window the second he does.
At the end of it, Vegas feels split open and raw, like he just cried for hours. Pete gently extricates himself from Vegas’s loose limbs and tells him to take his time “coming down” while Pete gets him some water and a snack from the kitchen. Vegas lies there in a daze until he gets back.
When Pete asks him if he’d like to book another session, Vegas is saying yes before his brain is fully back online to tell him what a ridiculous idea it is. He’s out the door, back on his bike, fastening on his helmet, when it hits him that he just signed up for regular honest-to-god cuddle appointments.
I should go knock on his door and tell him I changed my mind, Vegas thinks. At least text him to cancel.
But he doesn’t. He doesn’t knock on Pete’s door, he doesn’t text him, he doesn’t do any of it. And a week later, he’s back for his next session. Then again the week after that, and the week after that.
He gets hard every time. Pete doesn’t. It’s fine. Vegas is fine. Maybe it’s a little insulting, because does it mean Pete doesn’t think he’s attractive? But it’s fine. So fine.
They try more positions. Vegas has his favorites, and Pete seems to pick up on them almost instantly. Being the little spoon is one of them, in part because it’s one of the few where his dick is out of sight and nowhere close to any part of Pete. Another one is with Vegas on his back, Pete curled into his side with his head on Vegas’s shoulder. It means Vegas gets to smell his hair, the lemony scent of his shampoo, while Pete traces absent shapes over his hand and arm.
But one day, a month or so in, Pete says, “I’d like to try something, if you’re okay with it.”
Vegas is maybe too okay with the thing he wants to try, which is Vegas sitting up against the wall with a pillow behind his back as Pete swings a leg over his thighs and settles right into his lap, nearly on top of his crotch. Pete’s arms come up around his shoulders in a firm hug.
“Good?” Pete asks. His breath is hot against Vegas’s neck.
Vegas’s fists clench and unclench at his sides. He breathes in Pete’s lemony shampoo scent and thinks of the unsexiest things he can come up with. Wild boars. Smallpox. Kinn. Nothing works. He’s got a lapful of professional cuddler and he wants to fuck him so hard he cries.
“Good,” he chokes out.
“You can hug me back, if you want to,” Pete says, muffled.
Vegas wants to, and his brain is losing the battle with his dick, so he does. Just a little at first, settling his hands over Pete’s hips, his thumbs brushing against soft skin where his shirt has ridden up just a little.
Pete inhales sharply.
No sexual advances, Vegas thinks.
His hands creep higher. Pete’s shirt is too loose. It falls away from his body too easily. It might as well not even be there.
Vegas pretends it isn’t. He heats his palms on Pete’s warm, soft stomach. He maps the trim curve of his waist, measures the fit of it in the crook between his thumb and forefinger. This is okay, right? This isn’t sexual. This is—this is just touching. Touching isn’t inherently sexual. It says it right there on Pete’s website. And if Pete had a problem, he’d stop him, right? The consent form had a whole paragraph about what he’d do if a client overstepped.
He’s not doing anything right now, just letting out these soft puffs of breath against Vegas’s neck and holding very still. So it’s not overstepping.
Well, until Vegas licks him at least.
He doesn’t mean to. He’s so busy exploring Pete’s soft belly and the delicate rungs of his ribcage and the gently curved underside of his tits—that’s not a private area right? he’s staying below his nipples—that when Pete shifts, shirt slipping a couple inches down his shoulder, Vegas isn’t even thinking. He just—his mouth just opens, right there against the little cradle of his clavicle, and his tongue finds the skin there, finds the sweat and the sweetness.
No kissing, Pete said. But that wasn’t kissing, was it? It was a lick, and not even on the mouth. Totally different. Oranges and apples. Vegas does it again, just to prove it.
Pete moans very quietly, the sound vibrating gently against Vegas’s throat. “I—”
Vegas slides his hands around, to the small of Pete’s back, then lower, dipping just under his sweats to the slight notch of bone where his spine meets his ass. This is where Pete’s wrists would be, Vegas thinks, if he tied them behind him. Vegas could put him on his front and watch his long, pretty fingers flex in and out of fists above the rope or silk while he worked his cock into him slowly, with care. He could grip the ties in one hand, drag Pete back into each thrust, make him fuck himself on Vegas’s cock.
No touching private areas, Pete said.
But when Vegas lets his fingers dig in, just a little, at the very uppermost swell of his ass, it’s Pete who rocks forward with a gasp, pressing their hips flush together. His dick, slotted right against Vegas’s, is unmistakably hard.
They both freeze. Vegas braces himself, struggling to figure out how to detach his mouth and hands from Pete’s warm skin, waiting for Pete to send him packing.
Pete does pull away, face lifting from Vegas’s neck to stare at him. His cheeks are flushed, hair rumpled, a line in his cheek from where it was pressed against Vegas’s shirt collar. His bottom lip looks wet and beestung, like he’s been biting it.
Vegas opens his mouth to apologize. “I’m—”
“Fuck it,” Pete says, and kisses him.
He draws back after a moment, like he’s about to say something, or ask Vegas if this is okay, or just to wait to see what he’ll do. Vegas doesn’t let him go far. Pete’s barely found a few inches between them before Vegas gets one hand in the collar of his too-big shirt and drags him in again.
No kissing, Vegas’s mind supplies helpfully, right as their mouths collide a second time. No sexual advances. No touching private areas.
Pete is doing all three like he’s getting paid for it, even though he very specifically isn’t. He’s whining into Vegas’s mouth, licking inside with his hands fisted in his hair. He’s grinding their hips together with filthy abandon, squirming into Vegas’s hand as it slips further into the back of his sweatpants to find the hot little clench of his hole.
“You want it?” Vegas says against Pete’s lips, one finger held right there, a suggestion.
Pete wants it. He’s so busy trying to work his hips down on that finger, trying to kiss Vegas again, it takes him a few seconds to even remember the word he’s looking for: yes.
Things get very unprofessional after that. But they still cuddle afterward. Vegas is the little spoon.
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