Chapter Text
Always wanting more
He'd leave you longing for
Black velvet and that little boy’s smile…
There’s nothing quite like looking up from a good old fashioned torture session to find the person you least expect watching you.
Vegas rolls his shoulders, feels that familiar lazy satisfaction spreading through his body as he considers the work in front of him, the form that still quivers even though the mind has long escaped to unconsciousness to flee the pain. The human body is a work of art, really, able to take so, so much without faltering or giving out. Heart, lungs, blood - they’d all keep working, keep pumping until the very last second, keeping the rest of the body going even when put through a fascinating amount of stress.
The man had passed out earlier than he’d wanted, though, and it makes Vegas click his tongue softly, almost disappointed as he studies him. He’d gotten what he’d needed, of course - it's rare that he doesn't when he gets a chance to pull out his tools and go to work. That doesn't mean that he can't wish that the fun, the pleasure had gone on just a little bit longer, though. He does so enjoy the begging, the whimpers and screams that always follow.
The responses torture and sex can drag from the human body aren't that far apart, really, not as far as he’s concerned.
Still. He supposes there’s something else to occupy his interest in the meantime. Something else that’s brand new and intriguing and comes in the form of a slender, dimpled, unassuming bodyguard who is suddenly making Vegas wonder if he’s been underestimating him all this time.
Pete’s been around for years, of course. He’s one of the ones steadfastly loyal to his masters, Vegas knows that was established ages ago. It was rote procedure to try and bribe the dogs loyal to his uncle and cousins - sometimes it worked, but most of the time it didn’t. They often didn’t want the ones who could be bribed, anyway - if they’d turn for you, they’d turn on you, too. It was useful informational currency to be passed between the two families, most of the time.
He’s never paid that much attention to Pete before this, though. Well, he supposes he’d had a little fun at times, if only because it was so delicious to watch the startled, rabbit-like reaction that the man so often gave. It had fit, for a guard assigned to watch his disturbed older cousin, so Vegas has never really given it much thought beyond that.
Until today, that is, and the moment when he’d glanced up to find Pete’s gaze fixed on him, fully engrossed, absorbed in what he was doing, and not only that, fascinated. Not flinching or looking away in discomfort the way that even the others were, seasoned as they were. Oh, the other man had eventually looked away afterwards, likely realizing that it’d be expected, but shortly after Vegas had felt that he was being watched again and it intrigues him to know that he might not be dealing with a rabbit after all.
Scared little rabbits don’t enjoy watching other scared little rabbits be taken apart, don't get that feverish, hungry glint in their eyes while doing so.
Very interesting indeed.
~*~
Vegas doesn’t act immediately. Something like this has to be approached in the right way, and besides, it’s more fun to drag it out, linger over it. To watch, and take in this new, interesting quarry that’s suddenly dropped right into his lap. Pete was right there, and has been all along, but suddenly he’s an enigma with all sorts of hidden facets to uncover, facets that apparently conceal things Vegas doesn’t know about yet. In the meantime Vegas knows that he won’t be going anywhere, either, not when he’s so bound to the family, so willing to stay at their side.
Right from the start it’s a lure Vegas finds impossible to resist. He’s going to have fun with this, he’s sure of it.
It’s funny what a person can notice when they’re looking beneath the surface. None of the guards are strangers to violence, of course, but now that Vegas has noticed him, Pete stands out in a compelling way due to the persona he seems to put on around other people. That fringe over his eyes, the innocent, bright smiles that come so readily, and of course, that dimple - well, they’re all extremely good at putting people at ease and making sure they don’t look too much deeper, aren't they? Never mind that Kinn takes him along on his little visits, sometimes. Or that Korn trusts him to watch Khun - the other two are idiots, as far as Vegas can tell, but it makes sense that Korn would conceal a viper among the sheep to watch over his eldest.
It’s all incredibly intriguing, and Vegas savours the slow drip of information he takes in over the next little while, just watching, stalking. He’s fairly sure that Pete’s somewhat aware, too, given the occasional glance he finds directed his way, the smallest hesitations that Vegas is pretty sure most people wouldn’t even pick up on, and that just makes it even better. He’s not quite arrogant enough to think that everyone is attracted to him - though he does think that those who aren’t are stupid - but he’s seen enough to be pretty sure that isn’t going to be an issue with Pete, won’t be something he has to overcome. Pete’s noticed he was being watched, but better yet, it’s clear he’s noticed Vegas, and that adds to the thrill of it all.
If Pete can see him coming, then he can try to get away, after all. Vegas would love to see him try, even if he won’t succeed.
The more he watches Pete the more his plans change, too. At first he’d been thinking about a little taunting, maybe tormenting the other man about just how eager he’d been to watch. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary to tease a bodyguard with.
Pete’s proving to be more interesting than that, though, and Vegas finds that his thoughts are wandering to other things he could do to the other man, other avenues he could explore. He’s done some careful probing about missions that Pete’s been on, and it seems that his little rabbit isn’t just average. In fact, he has quite the reputation for being extremely capable and efficient when he does go out on missions. Not only does that make Vegas idly think about what's likely beneath those boring bodyguard suits, it also makes Pete's willingness to stay with Khun even more glaring. It hints at something else Vegas finds intriguing - that Pete has a capacity for so much more, but chooses not to do any of it.
Vegas doesn’t understand why, but that’s all right. He plans on having the chance to get to know his little rabbit better sometime very soon.
~*~
It’s a dusky blue twilight night when the chance falls into Vegas’ lap, too perfect to be ignored. He hasn’t had any plans for his new little obsession for this night, actually, but that’s before he rounds the corner on his way to go and meet with Ken and comes across Pete standing right there, cigarette in hand and gaze on the sky. It puts the smooth length of his neck in perfect profile against the night sky behind him, and Vegas slows, drinks it in, allows himself to appreciate the lazy surge of interest and arousal now rising within him.
It’s a pity that the cigarette is already lit, really, but the mere fact that Pete is smoking at all gives Vegas all the in that he needs. That means Pete’s probably not on duty, is likely even off for the night, and now he’s all on his own, in a secluded area of the grounds.
It’s perfect, and something inside Vegas croons in anticipation. His meeting with Ken can wait, he decides. He lets a foot scuff against the ground as he approaches and he doesn’t bother trying to hold back his lazy smile when he’s rewarded by an instant reaction. Head up, eyes probing, calculating - shrewd and intelligent, before the mask slams back into place and he’s presented with that brilliant, vapid smile that he knows so well.
“Khun Vegas!” Pete says. “I’m just finishing up. I’ll get out of your way.”
“In a hurry, Pete?” Vegas asks mildly in English, tilting his head as he watches the other man. He tries to imagine playing this little game every day, putting on a mask to hide from the world, but it’s not at all his style. The fact that Pete chooses the charade, chooses to put on this show for the world to hide who he really is - it makes Vegas want to take him apart, crack him open to find out what’s inside, see if the other man will break or simply bleed in the process.
“Er - Khun Vegas?” Pete asks, pausing as he stubs out the cigarette. That dark gaze is back on Vegas, now, and he watches the faintest flickers that give away the calculation beneath the bubbly, confused exterior. He’s being assessed as surely as he was doing it himself, and Vegas smiles slowly, still moving closer.
“I asked if you were in a hurry,” he explains lazily. He can imagine what Pete is thinking, the questions he’s running through. Why is Vegas speaking English? What’s he doing here? Why is he talking to Pete, when he’s just a guard who’s off duty? What’s his motivation? Is the family in danger?
All very good questions, but Vegas doesn’t intend to give up the answers just yet. That’s for him to know and Pete to find out.
“Not at all,” Pete replies, and there’s that smile again, smooth and practiced. “Did you need something, Khun Vegas?”
“Oh, there’s plenty that I need,” Vegas murmurs, switching languages again as he continues moving closer. He’s at the edge of Pete’s outer bubble, now, and he can see the moment that it registers, when the other man starts to tense just a little. Oh, yes, there's definitely a lot Pete has concealed beneath that smile, beneath those boring suits of his, and Vegas doesn’t bother hiding what he’s doing as he lets his gaze rake downwards, taking in the other man from head to toe.
He’s too close for it to be missed by someone as observant as Pete, and he finds the effort rewarded when he looks back up to find dark eyes fixed on his, just slightly wider than they normally would be.
Perfect.
“I - What do you need, Khun Vegas?” Pete asks, and Vegas takes a moment to just enjoy that, the faintest indication that he’s thrown the other man off a little.
“I’m in need of some entertainment, Pete,” Vegas replies, and takes pleasure in moving forward again, in openly watching the way that Pete instinctively takes a step backwards, more out of necessity than out of fear. The wall is behind him, though, so there’s only so far that he can go - eventually he’s going to have to choose between standing his ground or slipping away. The thought makes Vegas smile slowly, wondering which side Pete will come down on.
“Entertainment?” Pete repeats. “Khun Vegas?” It’s an afterthought, which makes Vegas’ smile grow a little. That dark gaze is moving, now - flicking over Vegas’ shoulder and then back, and oh, seeing those pupils dilate a little creates a rush that even Vegas hadn’t anticipated. He’d known he’d enjoy this, but he’s only just realizing how much he’s looking forward to finally having Pete in his grasp.
“Yes, Pete,” he murmurs, taking another step forward. The wall’s at Pete’s back, now, and heated satisfaction curls through Vegas when he sees the other man hesitate and then come to a decision, feet planting where they are.
Standing his ground it is, then. He’d rather hoped it’d be that.
“I suppose I should - elaborate,” he murmurs, lifting an arm so that he’s leaning against the wall, infringing deliberately into the little that’s left of any personal space Pete might have. “It’s just that you caught my attention, watching me.”
“Watching you, Khun Vegas?” He can hear the faintest hesitation in Pete’s voice, now, and Vegas savours it as he leans in further, giving Pete the opportunity to leave, to move, to escape.
He hopes he won’t take it, and the heat simmering in his veins increases when Pete still doesn’t move, just stays where he is. He’s not frozen with fear, either - oh no. Pete’s many things, but afraid isn’t one of them, at least not beyond the normal apprehension Vegas knows most people feel around him. Immune to all of this isn’t one of them, either - Vegas is close enough to hear the way the other man’s breathing is wavering just slightly, close enough to see the faintest sheen of sweat building at his temples, and all it does is whet his appetite for more.
“Mmhmm,” he replies, tilting his head as he meets Pete’s gaze directly. Holding it, before he lifts his other hand so that he can let his fingertips skim the other man’s cheekbones, trace his thumb over that perfect little dip at the center of those temptingly full lips. “How many people know that you get a little thrill out of torture, Pete?”
He’s really gotten the other man’s attention, now - in more ways than one, in all the ways that he’d planned on and wanted, too. Pete’s eyes seem to have gotten even darker, and Vegas can tell the other man has forgotten about looking over his shoulder for avenues of escape, now - no, now he’s too busy just watching Vegas. His little rabbit is right where he wants him, and those eyes just watch him, the other man’s breath a soft heat against the tip of Vegas’ thumb.
It’s delicious, and Vegas makes no attempt to hide his smile, lazy and just a bit predatory. “Close friends only, maybe? Or do you hide it even from them?” he prompts softly.
He doesn’t really want or expect an answer, though he’s gratified to see that Pete seems to be attempting to respond. His tongue’s slipping out to wet his lips, that perfect throat shifting as he swallows, and Vegas just takes it in for a moment before he finally unleashes a bit of the control he’s been holding onto. Maybe he should spend a little bit longer on seduction, but the air around them is thick enough already, the tension palpable. He wants more, and what he wants, he takes - and every instinct is telling him that Pete wants it just as much as he does.
Pete isn’t totally off guard, of course, he's too good for that. He tenses a little as soon as Vegas moves, hands trying to go to his waist for his gun - but that just works with what Vegas wants to do, allows him to grab Pete’s arm so that he can yank it up high along his back as he spins the other man and then shoves him against the wall, pinned as surely as a butterfly on display.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, English slipping out again for a moment. It just seems to fit, with Pete, especially since Pete seems to understand at least some of it, more than some others. “I was actually going to let you answer that before I got distracted.”
“Khun Vegas, I should really get back to my rooms, I - “ Pete breaks off as Vegas yanks his arm up a bit higher, forcing him to his toes, and a strangled hiss escapes a moment later as Vegas presses in close, bends his head to nip sharply at the tempting curve of the other man’s neck and leaves red behind in a vivid bloom. That might leave a bruise, and the thought leaves him ravenous to do more. He can feel the flutter of the other man’s pulse beneath the skin, now, feel the heat radiating off of him and how it contrasts with the coolness of the night air, and it’s more potent than he could have anticipated.
“Your rooms sound perfect, except for the fact that I think you were suggesting them as an attempt to get away,” Vegas murmurs, breathing in slowly. Pete smells like cigarette smoke and a strange sweetness, somehow, but it’s the hint of sweat beneath it that makes Vegas shove the other man up harder against the wall, push his thigh between the other man’s to grind, hard. He can just imagine what Pete will smell like once Vegas has the chance to work him over from head to toe, and fuck, that’s a mental image he appreciates. Pete up on his toes like this, barely touching the ground, ensnared perfectly so Vegas can explore every dark and filthy thing the other man wants him to do… Fuck, yes.
He can feel Pete’s body practically vibrating where he’s held up against the wall, and Vegas tugs on his arm again lazily, just hard enough to feel the way that the other man winces and shudders in response. “You’ve started to fascinate me, Pete,” he murmurs, voice dark. “All this time I thought you were a scared, boring little rabbit, and then I see you looking at my knives like you want me to use one on you. And lately you’ve been watching me almost as much as I’ve been watching you, haven’t you?”
He’s sliding a hand down over Pete’s chest as he speaks, taking his time so that he can feel the heat of the other man’s skin burning through the thin, neatly pressed fabric. For all that he has Pete shoved up against the wall, it’s not as though the other man is helpless. His arm probably hurts like hell from the angle he’s holding it at, but Vegas can still tell that Pete’s choosing not to fight back, choosing to let Vegas continue, and when his hand slips further down for an instant he can feel the hard length of the other man’s cock where it’s trapped between Pete’s body and the wall.
“No answers, Pete?” he asks quietly, leaning forward to speak in one delicate, perfectly shaped ear. He can feel the small convulsion that races through the other man’s body in response, and Vegas grinds his leg up harder just to drag it out, just to feel the other man scrabble to keep his feet on the ground. There’s even a little jerk of his body, as though Pete's just resisting the urge to grind down, instead, give himself a bit of friction even if it makes him arm hurt more.
Delicious.
“So,” he murmurs, focusing on what he’d been saying again. As intoxicating as this is, where they are is too open, and he already knows he doesn’t want any interruptions once he gets Pete out of the restrictive, too proper clothes he’s wearing. “Are you coming with me, Pete, or am I letting you go?”