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Chapter Text

Pete was rummaging through Vegas’ jewellery box, trying to find the perfect pieces to match his outfit. He settled for a layered necklace with a short plain silver chain and a longer chain containing his tracker, the tracker was tastefully hidden in a necklace charm that resembled a compass, courtesy of Arm of course. Pete was going to be meeting up for a business deal after all and those could go south real quick. Pete also grabbed a few silver rings and slid them on his fingers. He smiled a bit at wearing Vegas’ jewellery, but he didn’t own many of his own pieces (not for lack of trying on Vegas’ part), but Pete preferred borrowing his boyfriend’s things. What he did have (given to him by Vegas) were the silver hoops in his ears, they were engraved and specially made for him. Pete’s never really been the type of person to care a lot for his personal style but ever since he stopped being a bodyguard he found his options much more open and was thus experimenting with different things.

“Baby,” a voice mumbled from behind him. Pete finished straightening out the loose fitting shortsleeved button up shirt he was wearing and turned around to face his lover. Vegas was in bed, eyes barely open, naked, with the comforter barely covering his dick. Pete smiled and shook his head slightly, walking over, his whole body aching with the movement. But it was a good ache. Very good. Vegas smiled back, reaching out to pull him down when he got close enough. Pete leaned into it when Vegas kissed him lazily, gently stroking his boyfriend’s naked chest, trailing the scars there lovingly. The other man was worn out from the evening before. He had had a long meeting and when he got home Pete had pounced on him. They had great sex, and Pete had focused all his attention on making sure Vegas enjoyed it. Which he certainly had.

“Can’t believe you made me cum 3 times,” Vegas whispered against his lips, obviously still stuck on their escapades the night before. Pete gave a wolfish grin.

“As long as I set my mind to it, I could make you cum even more,” Pete promised him, and from his position, leaning on top of Vegas, he could feel Vegas’ dick stirring against his thigh. Pete leaned down to kiss him again and pulled Vegas’ hand up to his own throat, where it gripped tightly, a moan escaping Pete’s lips. Vegas groaned in his throat at the sound, the hand on Pete’s neck fingering the necklaces.

“I love when you wear my stuff,” Vegas breathed out. Pete smiled against his mouth.

“I know.” Pete kissed Vegas a few more times before pulling away.

“Unfortunately,” he said as he swiftly stood up. “I need to get going.” Vegas looked at him with disbelief, sitting up on the bed.

“You’re leaving?” He said, confused. “Already?”

“I promised to drop off Chay and talk for a bit with Khun, before my meeting” Pete said sheepishly. Vegas huffed moodily, but it was all an act, Pete saw the smile pulling on the corners of his mouth. Ever since Khun Korn had died, Macau and Vegas had a much better relationship with their cousins. And Pete was happy that the name Tankhun no longer invoked the wrath of hell in his boyfriend.

“Fine, if you insist,” Vegas sighed out in English. Pete bit back a smile. Vegas reached out to grab his hand. “Be careful today.” Pete almost scoffed at that, because it seemed so redundant. But it warmed his heart to know Vegas was so concerned. So he leaned down to kiss the man one more time.

“I’ll try my best,” Pete vowed and then turned to leave before the mere sight of naked, fully hard, Vegas lured him into bed and made him stay there.

“I love you,” Vegas called after him.

“Love you too,” Pete threw over his shoulder before exiting the room. He nodded at Nop who was arriving to stand by the door until Vegas exited their room to head for today’s meetings and the man returned it sternly. Nop was Vegas’ head bodyguard and one of the best Pete had ever met, which was definitely reassuring.

“Good luck today khun Pete,” Nop said genially, Pete nodded his thanks. The man still refused to drop the title with him, which Pete was still not used to and had thus asked him multiple times to drop it. But Nop was stubborn.

Pete kept walking, his one head bodyguard falling into step behind him. He was definitely not used to that either.

“Good morning Beam,” Pete said cheerily to the man walking just one step behind him. Beam was only a year younger than Pete and his strong muscles were buried in the oversized Hawaiian shirt he wore. He was relatively new to the family but had shown great potential and so Pete had chosen him as head bodyguard. Most of all, he was loyal to Pete and no one else.

“Good morning Pete,” Beam replied with a smile. At least he listened when Pete told him to drop the title. Pete still found it surreal to have his own guard detail but he understood the necessity of it. He was not just an insignificant piece on the game board anymore. He was valuable. But still, Pete made a point of explicitly collaborating with his guards, not ordering them around.

Eventually they reached the living room where two bodies were slumped on the couch, dead asleep. Pete rolled his eyes fondly. He greeted the two guards in the room who were on Macau’s rotation, Cake and Tim. Pete had also made it a point to get to know every guard working for the minor family. He was, after all, responsible for the guard details and highly involved in recruiting and training them. Pete walked over to shake the two boys awake.

“Chay, Macau,” he called gently, Porchay jumping up to a sitting position, hair standing on end, while Macau simply blinked up at him.

“We’re leaving in ten,” Pete told them, mostly Chay, who nodded dazedly at him. Pete almost cooed but refrained and reached out to brush out the boy’s messy hair instead. Macau dragged himself up to standing and mumbled something unintelligible.

“Huh?” Pete said, leaning toward the younger. Macau shuffled over to hug him, he was warm and heavy, but Pete held him nonetheless.

“Can we go to the mall later today?” Macau mumbled into his shoulder, clearly still half asleep. “The new Air Jordans are out.” Pete chuckled and ruffled his hair.

“Sure, right after I’m done with my meeting,” Pete promised.

“Stupid meeting,” Macau pouted, but pulled away to shuffle into the kitchen, dragging Chay up from the couch and pulling him with. Oh yes, Pete couldn’t agree more about this meeting. The meeting was with an up and coming street gang that had recently gained a lot of traction in the underworld. They had been having talks with this particular gang for a while regarding having them on the Theerapanyakul payroll. Vegas wanted to snatch them up before they got too confident and started causing problems. As always, it was much better to collaborate with the gangs than letting them run wild. However Pete definitely thought they could’ve closed this deal two meetings ago, but the boss of the gang, Game, loved to drag things out apparently.

Eventually Chay had woken up enough to get ready and get to the main family compound with him. Pete and Chay both sat in the back of one of the bigger vans the minor family owned. They took the bigger one because Pete’s guard detail was significantly larger than usual, due to him attending this meeting alone. Chay talked enthusiastically about all the things he and Macau had done during their sleepover and Pete listened fondly. Chay had become like a second younger brother to him with how much time he spent at the minor family compound. But Pete understood why, Chay was still a bit awkward toward his own brother, and he was definitely awkward with Kim, although Pete didn’t know why that was completely. He’d only heard a few snippets, mostly from Macau. He did know that Kim spent a lot more time at the compound than usual, and often trailed after Chay looking like a lost puppy.

When they finally arrived Pete slung an arm around Chay’s shoulders, leading him inside. He nodded at the main family guards at the door.

“Back again,” Chay sighed out. Pete squeezed his shoulder. He knew Chay wasn’t too fond of the mansion and the life of luxury, especially knowing the bloody foundation it was built on, but he understood the necessity of living there for his own safety.

“It’s okay, you can always come back to us whenever.” Pete assured the boy, smiling softly. Not that the minor family compound wasn’t also built on bloody foundations but the atmosphere was significantly different. And Macau was there, someone who was Chay’s own age. Chay looked at him and nodded.

“Thank you P’Pete.”

When they entered the living room it was surprisingly full. Tankhun was sitting on one couch, gesturing wildly at Pol and Arm who were both nodding obediently at him. On the other couch, Porsche, Kinn and Kim were seated, Porsche and Kinn holding hands while Kim looked pissed at the world. On the last couch, Tay was sitting by himself, looking at the chaos that was Tankhun’s storytelling. Kim was the first one to catch sight of them and immediately his pissed expression was traded for puppy eyes. Pete almost snorted in amusement. Porsche didn’t take long to notice at all, and abruptly stood up when he saw Chay. That stopped the others as well and everyone turned to face them.

“Chay,” Porsche breathed out, looking desperate. Pete winced internally. He knew Chay was ignoring his brother a lot these days, not happy with this new life they were leading ever since Porsche became a major part of the family, and Porsche was definitely suffering for it. Pete made sure to text him updates frequently though. “How was your sleepover?” Porsche inquired gently.

“It was good,” Chay said politely, nodding at his brother with a distinctly cold air. He then turned to Pete.

“P’Pete, thank you for having me this weekend,” he said and smiled brightly, hugging Pete tight. Pete smiled to himself and returned the hug gently. “See you next week?”

“Of course Chay,” he said and they parted, then Chay immediately left for his room. Pete grimaced a bit and saw Porsche looking like a kicked puppy, Kim mirroring the expression on his left side. Pete noticed Kinn reaching out to pull Porsche down next to him again, his eyebrows expressing his sympathy for his desolate boyfriend. Tankhun stood up abruptly, rushing over to hug Pete.

“Peeete!” He cried out. “I’ve missed you! You’ve abandoned me! My devil of a cousin has been keeping you captive!” Okay, Pete was stretching a bit when he said the cousins had a better relationship, but in his defence, it was definitely better than actively trying to kill each other and had moved into chilly politeness and pointed comments.

“I’m sorry Khun,” Pete managed to stutter. “I’ve been a bit busy.”

“Too busy for your favourite Theeranpanyakul?” Tankhun gasped dramatically. Pete laughed internally, nope unfortunately that was Macau (sorry Vegas). But he didn’t tell Khun that.

“Khun please, I’m here now right?”

“No! You have to promise me you’ll come on Wednesday for the premiere of my new drama!” Tankhun demanded. Pete did a quick calculation of his schedule in his head.

“Okay, I promise I’ll be here,” Pete nodded. Tankhun held his gaze for a bit before nodding.

“Good, now back to what I was saying,” he announced and strutted over to sit down on the couch again, plucking up his tale from the beginning to give the full experience, which had Arm and Pol groaning in misery. Pete grinned a bit to himself and then walked over to sit down next to Tay. He offered the man a genuine smile, which was gracefully returned. Tay was really one of the prettiest heirs Pete had met, he still remembered seeing Kinn’s friends for the first time many years ago and thinking Tay was really pretty, which hadn’t changed. He was kind too, never disrespecting the bodyguards as many others usually did and always remembering their names. Even Vegas had said Tay was one of the more tolerable heirs in the industry and that was high praise coming from him, especially since Tay was one of Kinn’s best friends.

“Hello Pete,” Tay said with that soft voice of his. “How are you?” His eyelids were dusted with glitter eyeshadow and his lips were a soft pink. Pete wished he had the courage to try his hand at such makeup someday, but Tankhun had set him up for life with crazy looks and mannequin sessions.

“I’m alright,” Pete responded with a smile, eyes crinkling in the corners. Tay returned it in kind. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Tay said, leg coming up to cross over the other as he leaned back. “My father just closed a deal on a new hotel that I will be staying at tonight, for the opening gala,” Tay elaborated. Pete nodded in interest. Tay’s father was a big name in the hotel industry, and his hotels were the best spots for a lot of the meetings, dealings and trades within the mafia.

“Will Time not be accompanying you?” Pete inquired gently, knowing it was a somewhat sensitive topic. He was, again, not aware of the full story, but he knew Time had sex with other people, however he was unclear on whether it was agreed upon or not. It seemed everyone knew Time did it, so why wouldn’t they think Tay deserved to know if it was cheating? Pete saw Kinn looking over at them from the corner of his eye at that question.

As he figured, Tay’s smile dropped to a sad tilt of the lips, and his eyes were shining a bit.

“No,” he eventually said, “he is busy.” Pete nodded, not wanting to press further. “But Porsche and Kinn will be there, you’re welcome to come as well and bring Vegas. It’s been too long since I saw him.” Pete smiled genuinely at that.

“We would love to.”

“Good. I’ll send you the details then,” Tay inclined his head. Pete agreed. They were silent for a few seconds, listening to Tankhun, before Tay turned his head to Pete again.

“I heard you have a meeting today?” The man asked. Pete nodded, exasperated only thinking about it.

“Oh yes,” Porsche suddenly interrupted Tankhun (who protested vehemently), looking over at them. “That meeting,” he said, syllables drawn out. Pete rolled his eyes at his best friend.

“What? What’s that meeting?” Tankhun forgot all about being interrupted at that.

“This new underground gang that’s been gaining high status lately, and are gunning for minor family areas, which Vegas is trying to control by recruiting them,” Kim droned, monotone. Porsche gave him a weirded out look. For someone not officially involved in the mafia businesses, Kim was very much in the know about all of it.

“Yeah that,” he agreed, “but the leader of the gang, Game, has been hardcore gunning for Pete.” Porsche snickered at Pete’s murderous look.

“How do you even know that?” Pete protested. Porsche huffed with a grin.

“I have my ways,” was the only thing he offered. Pete figured that meant he had asked the minor family bodyguards about it because he was incurably curious and liked getting in everyone’s business. And the guards still liked Porsche from his brief stint as minor family head, which he had handed right back over to Vegas as soon as khun Korn died. He now acted as co-head of the main family and assisted Kinn in his meetings and endeavours instead.

“A crush on my Pete! How dare he!” Tankhun shrieked, scandalised. “It was bad enough when one mafia boss stole him away, I shall not let another do so!”

“Vegas is your cousin, Khun, not some random mafia boss,” Tay said, shaking his head fondly. Tankhun scoffed. Pete knew he had been warming up to Vegas and Macau though, he didn’t even expressly forbid Pete from bringing any of them to this gathering (even if Pete still didn’t).

“So?” Tankhun crossed his arms over his chest. Pete was done with this whole conversation.

“Khun, it’s nothing,” Pete tried to salvage this situation. “Game is just friendly.” Pete felt the hesitance in his own statement and was not surprised when he was refuted.

“Friendly?” Porsche laughed. “Beam said he kept flirting with you and complimenting you, and then grabbed your hand! Beam also said Vegas had looked ready to shoot the guy in the dick.” Pete turned to give Beam a betrayed look, his head bodyguard only shrugging slightly, unrepentant. Pete looked at the others and saw Kinn looking uncomfortable, while Kim looked bored of the whole ordeal. Arm and Pol both shot him looks from behind Tankhun, looking concerned.

“So why is Vegas letting you attend this meeting?” Tay asked then, looking confused.

“Vegas is not ‘letting’ me do anything,” Pete said, a bit fondly, which had Tankhun fake gagging. Vegas was very keen on Pete making all of his own decisions and Pete kind of found it endearing. Don’t get him wrong, Vegas was still very much possessive (and Pete very much enjoyed it), but not to the point of stopping him from doing what he wanted, and definitely not pushing him if he pushed back. Vegas had certainly learned that lesson. “It was my idea, so we could finally close the deal. Game has been dragging out our meetings just to annoy Vegas, and they have both been posturing the whole time, so I figured if I went myself he would finally sign it, with a little convincing,” Pete added, a bit embarrassed when he said it, because he heard how it sounded and it was exactly what it sounded like.

“Ahh, my smart Pete,” Tankhun said, nodding. “Yes, getting rid of the competing male and then seduce him into doing your bidding.” That had Porsche barking out an incredulous laugh, but one look at Pete told him that was exactly the plan.

“And on what planet did Vegas agree to this?” Kinn asked incredulously, tightening his grip on Porsche’s waist. Pete wanted to roll his eyes. Kinn was so obvious sometimes, and so very jealous.

“Contrary to what you seem to believe, Vegas lets me make my own decisions and I decided this way of closing the deal was for the best. And Vegas trusts me,” Pete said, calm as ever, and feeling very confident in this line of reasoning, he knew implicitly that Vegas trusted him and he trusted Vegas. Kinn looked a bit miffed, but didn’t object. Kim snorted a laugh though.

“Seems like you should take notes, hia,” Kim threw at Kinn. Pete hid a small smile, at least he wasn’t the only one who saw it.

“At least my lover is talking to me,” Kinn threw right back, which had the smile slide off of Kim’s face real quick. And maybe it was because Pete had acquired what felt like two younger brothers, when he was an only child, but his heart was suddenly aching for the second youngest Theerapanyakul.

“Don’t worry, Kim, Porchay might not talk to you much, but he talks about you a lot,” Pete said, nodding his head in assurance. “He showed me the song, and trust me when I say he loves it.” Most everyone in the room seemed confused at this. Pete knew Chay hadn’t shown anyone else the video, except for Macau, so he wasn’t surprised.

Kim looked at him, puppy eyes suddenly back in full force, almost looking his young age.

“Really?” He said mostly in disbelief.

“Really.” Pete confirmed. “I think if you go to him and start talking, he won’t be opposed, as long as you start with an apology. And especially if you talk music.” Kim looked determined all of a sudden, standing up.

“I’m going to,” he announced, starting to walk away, but he turned in the last second. His expression looked like it was paining him but he nodded to himself with conviction. “Thank you p’Pete.” Pete was shocked, he had never heard Kim say that in the years he had worked with the family.

“Of course,” he nodded, and then Kim was gone.

“Pete!!” Tankhun whined as soon as his youngest brother was out of sight. “What are you doing to all the littlest ones? Even Macau treats you with respect!” Pete laughed nervously.

“Nothing in particular,” he objected.

“No! It’s something,” Tankhun insisted, standing and marching over to sit next to his former head bodyguard. “Teach me!” He demanded. Pete grinned innocently.

“It’s really nothing, Khun,” he insisted. Tay was snickering from beside him, very unhelpfully. Tankhun did not look convinced.

“Fine, keep your secrets!” He pouted. “Arm, Pol! Get the fish food! Elizabeth and Sebastian number 3 have been missing Pete!”

Pete suddenly dreaded the rest of the visit, and it seemed Tay saw right through him.

“No no,” Tay said, “don’t leave Khun, you didn’t finish telling me how Bong Soon solved the kidnapping case,” Tay said this like it was a crime if Tankhun didn’t tell them. Pete was impressed at Tay’s ability to keep up with what Tankhun had been saying that entire time, while also talking to Pete. “Come here, sit with Tay.” Tay’s voice was saccharine sweet as he patted the space next to himself and Tankhun was quick to leap over Pete, into the space between them.

“Well, then I’ll have to start the story all over!” Tankhun announced and Pete laughed quietly when he saw Pol and Arm exchanging agonized looks with him. He understood their pain. Khun had probably made them watch the drama thrice already and was now retelling it for the third time.

Pete let Tankhun drone on and enjoyed being in the same space as his former boss, now a friend. And Tay, who was shaping up to be a very good friend as well.

~

Tankhun did manage to convince everyone to go out and feed the new carp fish after exhausting all talks about dramas. Pete had inexplicably ended up next to Kinn, mostly because Tankhun stole Porsche away to the pond and Tay was with them, while Arm and Pol collected the fish food. Kinn and Pete were standing under the shade of one of the trees, Pete smoking a cigarette. He knew Kinn wasn’t always a fan of smoking but they had reached a point in their (tentative) friendship where Kinn no longer felt the instinct to boss him around and Pete ignored the instinct to follow orders from the main family. So, smoking it was.

“It’s bad for you, you know,” Kinn said mildly. Pete smiled a bit to himself. He had been with the family so long, and had seen Kinn at many stages in life, but this was the first one where he was at peace. Pete thought it suited him.

“I do know,” Pete agreed. “So does Porsche.” Kinn shot him a sharp look, but it held no heat. Porsche was still struggling to stop, more often than not he was sneaking in a cigarette in his day to day activities. Pete knew this. Kinn knew this too.

“It’s because of Porchay,” Kinn said then, looking over at where Tankhun was shaking Porsche’s arm, obviously trying to get him to do something that was most likely stupid.

“I know.” Pete knew this too. Porsche was lost when Porchay was mad at him. Porchay was probably the most important person in his life after all. So, smoking.

“Why don’t you talk to him.” Kinn said then, turning to face Pete with demanding eyes. Well, Kinn mostly didn’t feel the instinct to boss him around, but Pete figured bossing people around was just an integral part of his personality (and not in the fun way it was with Vegas).

“I have. He listened, and then he made his own decision,” Pete said, remaining calm, even if he felt the sudden urge to listen to Kinn’s orders. He had issues, okay. He pushed it away. “That’s how communication works you know.”

Kinn rolled his eyes at that, but didn’t insist.

“How are you like this, even after being stuck with my cousin?” Kinn murmured instead, which had Pete’s hackles rising.

“I’m not stuck with anyone. Respectfully, you need to get over it,” Pete said with a plastic grin. He knew most people still didn’t understand his and Vegas’s relationship, and he didn’t bother explaining it to anyone so it was partly his fault. But he doubted they would understand even if he did explain it. How Vegas made him feel. How intense everything was. How he couldn’t live without him. How he wanted Vegas to hurt him, to hold him, to own him, to love him.

No. They wouldn’t understand.

Kinn gave him a calculating look, but nodded nonetheless. “Fine, I’ll try my best. I just want you to be okay Pete. We all do.” Pete always found it interesting that no one ever cared if Vegas was okay.

“I know,” Pete still said, because he did. He did know. And yet no one seemed to believe him when he said that he really was okay, and happy with his situation. This is why he preferred talking to the littlest Theerapanyakuls most times.

“Kinn!” A voice suddenly called, Tay waving a hand at the mafia boss. Kinn nodded at Pete before going over to join them.

“It’s still weird that he talks casually to you now,” Arm said from his left side. Pete smirked a bit, having already noticed them coming.

“It’s not too weird. We’ve known each other a long time after all,” Pete reasoned.

“How did you know we were here?” Pol whined from his right, because they never managed to catch Pete off guard when they really wanted to. He was too well trained for that. Even if Arm and Pol were quiet and great bodyguards, Pete had been head bodyguard for several reasons, one of them being his instincts. And they were certainly still intact, thank you very much.

“Try harder,” was Pete’s only advice to that. Arm rolled his eyes, nudging Pete’s side with his pointy elbow. Pete swatted at him.

“So,” Arm started, “what about this Game guy?”

“Yeah,” Pol nodded, “seems like a tool.” Pete scoffed.

“Oh sure,” he agreed. “He is. He just hides behind pretty words and charming smiles.” Arm and Pol both ahh’ed.

“So he’s that type,” Arm hummed.

“Hate that type,” Pol huffed.

“Yeah. I prefer outright evil people,” Arm reasoned. “Like Pete apparently does.” That earned him a snorting laugh from Pol and Pete elbowing Arm harshly in the side.

“Vegas isn’t-“ he started protesting but the words died out. “Well.” Vegas was a bit evil, but Pete definitely preferred him being evil outright than trying to conceal it and hide it from Pete.

“Hah!” Pol pointed at him. “You can’t deny it. But that’s okay, we see the appeal.” He said this confidently. Pete huffed a laugh and shoved at the both of them. Idiots.

~

Porsche accosted him in the kitchen as soon as Pete entered it after leaving the pond. He had volunteered to get everyone drinks, even after Tankhun insisting the bodyguards would do that. Pete just needed a moment. Which he did not get. Porsche was quick to follow him.

“Pete!” Porsche said, closing the door to the kitchen behind himself. Pete huffed a sigh, but proceeded to collect the drinks anyway, putting them on a tray. “Did Chay enjoy his weekend?” Pete glanced at his best friend, seeing the wide eyes and quivering lip.

“Ask him yourself,” Pete suggested gently. Porsche looked dejected at that.

“He will only say it’s fine. Then I’ll ask what he did. Then he’ll say they played games. Then I won’t have anything else because he gives me literally no space to say anything meaningful in those situations,” Porsche whined. Pete sighed again.

“You’ll just have to be patient,” Pete turned around to face him, abandoning the drinks. Porsche looked at him with wide pleading eyes.

“I can’t Pete. It’s been too long, he’ll never come around,” Porsche said in a whisper. Pete breathed in deeply. He reached out to place a hand on Porsche’s shoulder.

“I mean it. He’s young. But you’re family and he knows you love him. Give him space and time,” Pete tried to reassure him. Porsche nodded, eyes downcast, before glancing up at Pete, eyes searching.

“That never worked with you,” he said suddenly, and nonsensically.

“Hmm?” Pete frowned. Porsche stepped away from his friend, pacing the kitchen for a few seconds before stopping in front of him again.

“You never did tell me what happened,” Porsche said then, words holding weight. And it clicked for Pete what he meant.

“Porsche…”

“I know!” The other man interrupted him. “This isn’t some guilt trip or whatever. I’m just saying,” Porsche shrugged, a bit petulantly. Pete hunched in on himself, wrapping his arms around himself. His mind fell back in time, to a moment when he’d done the same, sitting in a bathtub, Porsche next to him, with both gentle hands and fierce eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Pete finally settled for. Hurt flashed in Porsche’s eyes, and Pete felt knots in his stomach at that.

“But I want to,” Porsche murmured. “You’re my friend. And I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. From everything that happened. From him. I saw how miserable you were.” Pete looked down at the floor, feeling ripped open and flayed. Porsche continued talking. “I’m really sorry.” A part of Pete appreciated the apology, because he had gone in to the minor family house knowing it might go south and resources were usually not wasted on a single bodyguard, but it had still hurt that no one even looked for him. Or, at the very least, thought about him. His skin was itching uncomfortably. He pulled at his collar to relieve the sudden urge to crawl out of his skin. Porsche’s eyes caught on the movement and he was suddenly up in Pete’s space.

“Porsche!” Pete protested indignantly as his friend pulled on his shirt. Then he stilled, understanding what the other man had seen. What he’d found.

“Pete…” Porsche’s voice was hoarse. “What is this? Is he hurting you?” Pete was breathing shallowly, and reached out to tug his shirt back in place, covering the fresh bite marks, the fingerprints, the bruises. Porsche let him. And what a complicated question to answer really.

“Pete,” Porsche said then, demanding. “If he’s hurting you we can help. Tankhun would love to have you back you know. And we can make sure he never sees you again. I will personally make sure of it. Pete-“

“Porsche!” It burst out from deep within him. Porsche fell silent. Pete’s first instinct was to reassure and smile at him, but he knew it wouldn’t work. Porsche knew him too well by now and he wouldn’t let it go this time. So Pete refrained from smiling and instead reached up to put his hands on either side of his friend’s neck. “Porsche…” The other looked at him with determined eyes.

“Pete.”

“Vegas doesn’t do anything I don’t ask him to do, okay?” Pete finally breathed out. Porsche looked like a lost puppy.

“But Pete. This is bad. Really bad. You look like you got assaulted,” Porsche said, intently. Pete sighed through his nose. This was going to be difficult.

“Porsche, I ask him to do that. It’s completely consensual from both ways,” Pete said, keeping the eye contact with his best friend, even if it’s weird to be talking about this with him.

“I knew you liked some kinky stuff, but Pete,” Porsche still looked hesitant.

“Porsche, I love him,” Pete stated firmly. “I love him, okay? And he loves me. And part of that love is this. He understands what I need and I understand what he needs.”

Porsche’s eyes darted between his for a few more seconds before he sighed.

“Fine. Fine. I won’t bug you about it,” he said, stepping back. Pete let his hands fall down to his sides. “Let’s get the drinks out.” Porsche picked up one of the trays and left, leaving Pete with the remaining one. He shook his head slightly; Porsche was definitely not cool with it and still didn’t understand. But Pete dropped it, that was Porsche’s issue. And it would be until he got over it.

~

Chapter Text

The meeting spot for Pete and Game was one of the restaurants on neutral ground. Pete walked inside, met by the smell of delicious foods, his guards flanking him. He had Beam and another guard right with him, the others spreading out in the area, and two by the main entrance. Game was already seated in one of the booths, two drinks in front of him. Pete did not like that, he had not seen the drink being ordered or made, so he did not trust it. Pete smiled brightly at Game though and sat down, shaking hands with the man, glimpsing the king of hearts tattoo on Game’s hand which symbolised his gang.

“Khun Pete, what a pleasant sight,” Game purred at him. He was handsomely built, a bit on the older side, but his eyes were deceptively kind. Pete didn’t trust it.

“Khun Game,” Pete said respectfully. “Always a pleasure.”

“So polite you are,” Game smirked. “Cute.” Pete forced the smile to stay on his face. Game continued talking. “I bought you a drink, a Pink Panther, for a sweetheart such as yourself.” Pete shook his head apologetically.

“I’m sorry, but I will have to decline. I will be driving my brother-in-law later,” Pete excused himself. Game’s own smirk faltered, but he quickly pulled it back up.

“Surely the bodyguards can drive him?”

“I’m afraid I promised,” Pete countered, not entirely true. He did promise to go with Macau, but he hadn’t promised to drive. Game looked thoughtful, and Pete thought he would call him out, but the man nodded in assent.

“I see,” he pulled the drink a bit closer to himself. “Smart man you are, not drinking and driving. And a beauty too.”

“Khun Game,” Pete breezed over the comment. “Do you have any more inquiries before we sign the contract?” Game’s smirk turned into something teasing.

“So eager to leave?” He said, but there was a dangerous undercurrent in his tone.

“Oh of course not,” Pete refuted. He would have to tread carefully. “You are wonderful company, and this deal with you is very important to the minor family, we appreciate your time,” he smiled innocently, hoping Game would buy it. Game hummed.

“Really, tell me all about how you appreciate my time,” he drawled, leaning forward over the table. Pete kept his smile, leaning in as well, before he spoke softly.

“You are very kind and handsome, it is always a pleasure to discuss business with you.” Game smiled widely at that.

“Likewise,” he nodded, looking pleased. “Then let’s discuss.”

What followed was, yet again, an unnecessarily long conversation about matters they had already straightened out. But Pete persevered. He was nothing if not patient, his many years under Tankhun had made sure of that. He saw Beam looking bored out of his mind though, having attended all of the previous meetings with this gang as well. Pete wanted to laugh at the other but refrained. At some point Game ran out of questions and Pete finally pulled up the contract. Game took the pen he offered by unnecessarily grabbing his whole hand but Pete let it be. With a flourish, the older man finally signed it. Pete wanted to jump with joy but, yet again, refrained.

“Seems like we’re done,” Pete said, looking over the signed papers. Game hummed.

“Seems so,” he agreed. “And I may not tempt you with a drink?”

“No thank you,” Pete said, keeping his voice soft. “I promised my brother-in-law,” he smiled. Game nodded, smile a bit sharp around the edges, which made Pete wary. He stood to leave, holding out a hand for Game to shake. The older man stood as well and grabbed his hand, hard, and pulled him close all of a sudden. Pete noticed Beam’s hand going for his gun, but Pete remained calm as a hand settled on the back of his neck.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Game whispered in his ear. Pete forced a laugh.

“Likewise,” he said, not struggling in the grip, he figured it would not be appreciated. Eventually, Game released him, smirking. Pete nodded his head slightly and then turned to walk out, Beam right by his side.

~

“What was that about?” Beam said when they were in the van, he still looked on guard.

“Not sure,” Pete hummed, thinking over the interaction. “Maybe he just wanted to stake some imaginary claim,” he pondered. Beam looked unconvinced. Pete had a bad feeling about it all of a sudden.

“Beam, will you check my neck for me?” He asked abruptly, turning in his seat slightly.

“Your neck…?” Beam muttered, but did as he was told. Pete knew he was right when he heard a little gasp from behind him.

“What?” Pete inquired. Beam plucked something from inside his collar and Pete turned around to look at it. It was a circular, tiny device, that had been stuck to his neck by Game. “Tracker. Bastard.”

Beam quickly crushed the tiny thing between his fingers and rolled down a window to dispose of it.

“Why would he?” Pete wondered aloud, confused. What was Game’s goal here? Beam looked at him like he was crazy. He got that a lot, unsurprisingly.

“How did you even- never mind,” Beam sighed. “Khun Pete, should I report to khun Vegas immediately?”

“No,” Pete said, “I’ll tell him tonight, I’m taking Macau to the mall first. Vegas’ll just worry.” Beam looked unsure but listened to his orders.

They got back to the minor family mansion within 20 minutes and Pete walked inside swiftly, locating Macau in the kitchen, on his phone. Vegas was nowhere to be found, but it wasn’t impossible that Pete wouldn’t see him, it was a big property after all, and Pete knew he had meetings all afternoon. Pete cleared his throat pointedly.

“P’Pete!” Macau jumped up, looking delighted to see him, which warmed Pete’s heart. The other was wearing tight black jeans and a white t-shirt, a long necklace around his neck. He looked so similar to Vegas.

“Are you ready to go?” Pete asked, smiling genuinely at the younger boy. Macau nodded vehemently, grabbing his varsity jacket from the back of his chair before bounding over. He slung an arm around Pete’s shoulders.

“This is gonna be so good, P’. I’ve been waiting months for these!” Pete grinned, because yes, he knew that. Macau continued chattering as they made their way to the garage, this time taking only Beam and Macau’s head guard, Decha. They picked out a nondescript car and Pete insisted he’d drive. It felt less like lying to Game then, and just in case someone was double checking on him, which now seemed very likely. Macau sat in the front, messing with the music. Eventually it landed on a channel playing one of Kim’s songs. Pete snickered when Macau let it play, the boy shot him a nasty glare.

“Shut up P’.” He protested, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. Pete threw a grin at him.

“Admit it, you like your cousin’s music,” Pete pressed. Macau gasped in offense.

“Never. I hate it. I’m hate-listening!”

“So you didn’t cry when Chay played you the song Kim made for him?” Pete said innocently, being rewarded by Macau’s mouth falling open in shock.

“We promised to never speak of that! That traitor!” He growled. Pete laughed loudly, then he mellowed slightly at Macau’s miffed out look.

“It’s okay to cry you know, I almost cried at that song too,” Pete assured him. Macau shook his head slightly, not saying anything. Pete knew he was thinking about his dad, and Pete could imagine what Kan had thought about men crying. Pete decided to pull out the big guns. “You know, your brother thinks it’s okay too.” Macau looked over with suspicious eyes at that.

“Really?” He said, voice drawling slightly.

“You’ve seen him cry,” Pete protested. Macau shrugged uncomfortably.

“Yeah, but only like once or twice. And not over a silly song,” Macau mumbled. Pete smiled a little to himself.

“If you felt so many emotions about it, that means it’s important. Not just a silly song,” Pete stated. Macau looked at him, still not entirely convinced, but nodding a bit to himself.

And for Pete, that was enough for now.

~

The mall seemed relatively calm when they arrived, which made everything much simpler. No long lines, no difficult scenarios where the bodyguards would lose sight of them and much easier to keep track of their surroundings. Pete preferred if that way. He walked together with Macau toward the store, only stopping when his phone started ringing. He plucked it from his back pocket, a little smile on his face when he saw the name, and then he accepted the call.

“Hello.”

“Pete, where are you?” Vegas sounded almost petulant over the phone, though there was a hint of worry in his voice. Pete knew it couldn’t have been too much though, the other bodyguards should have reported back that the meeting went well already (omitting the tiny detail about the tracker he’d found).

“At the mall with Macau,” Pete said, the boy looking over at his name.

“Is it hia?” Macau hissed at him. Pete nodded.

“The mall?” Vegas sounded miffed. “And my dear brother didn’t invite me along?” Pete smirked all of a sudden, which had Macau looking at him suspiciously.

“Maybe I’m his favourite,” Pete sniffed, laughing at the panicked face Macau made at that. Vegas scoffed on the other side of the line when Macau wrestled the phone out of Pete’s hands.

“Hia!” Macau exclaimed loudly into the device, looking embarrassed at himself, so he continued with a slightly lower volume. “I figured you were busy so I asked p’Pete!”

“Hmm,” Vegas vaguely hummed, which Pete knew meant he was indeed busy, but wanted to pout about the situation. “I guess if I’m not the favourite anymore I’ll just throw out all the games I got you.” Macau looked scandalised.

“Hia!” He protested, sputtering.

“And I’ll stop cooking your food. And watching your movies. And-“

Macau quickly thrust the phone back at Pete.

“Fix him!” he hissed. Pete laughed loudly, shaking his head before lifting the phone up to his ear.

“Stop pouting Vegas,” he said, knowing he was gonna pay for that comment tonight and already looking forward to it, “we knew you were busy.” Vegas huffed moodily. “Anyway, we’re going to an opening gala tonight.”

“Oh?” Vegas voice was teasing, and in that delicious way that made a shiver race up Pete’s spine. “We are, are we now?” Pete swallowed his arousal.

“Yes. Tay invited us,” Pete said pointedly, not rising to the bait. Vegas chuckled, the sound warm and fond, which made Pete’s heart beat faster.

“Okay okay,” Vegas agreed. “We’ll go.”

“Great, see you later,” Pete said with a smile playing on his lips.

“See you,” Vegas said and then they hung up. Macau fake-gagged at the smile on Pete’s face, grimacing unattractively at him. Pete huffed and knocked their shoulders together.

“Come on, let’s go get those shoes and go home before your brother has a conniption,” Pete said mildly. Macau shuddered but nodded. They finally reached the store and Pete’s heart jumped a little because the store was absolutely crowded. Every mall goer must have converged in this very spot. Macau looked very excited though so Pete didn’t say anything. He did exchange wary glances with Beam and Decha though, conveying to them to be on guard. Macau swiftly grabbed his forearm to drag him toward the new release. Pete grabbed onto his hand even after Macau let his arm go, not wanting to lose track of the other boy for even a second. His instincts were flaring and that usually meant something was very wrong. Macau looked back at him, questioning, and seemed to see it on his face because he was swift in grabbing two pairs of the shoes and heading toward the register.

“Why two pairs?” Pete questioned, intrigued by the choice. Macau smirked at him.

“One for my in-law of course,” he said cheerily, squeezing Pete’s hand. Pete huffed a laugh. He wasn’t big on sneakers but Macau was adamant on contributing to his style journey. “Imagine hia’s face when he sees us with matching shoes!” There was a shit-eating grin on his face and Pete was reminded of Macau’s young age, and how much he liked teasing Vegas. He rolled his eyes but did imagine it and found the image funny. He knew Vegas would tip between being endeared they were getting along - or being jealous, over either Pete matching with Macau and not him or Macau being his younger brother not Pete’s. It would be quite funny indeed.

Macau only let go of his hand to pay for the shoes and then they were off, hands held tightly again. Pete led the way as they weaved through the mall to get outside. They were almost there, Beam and Decha were following them closely, and Pete kept glancing around them, on his guard. And thus, Pete was the first one to notice the gun.

“Macau!” He urged and pulled the boy toward him. But there was no need, the masked man with the gun aimed clearly at Decha and shot him right in the chest before taking off. Macau let out a distressed sound and Pete quickly pulled him even closer. There was no need to follow the man, it was obviously a trap. People around them were quick to scatter, screaming in terror. Beam was leaning over Decha who was collapsed on the floor, speaking urgently into his earpiece. Decha was still alive, but Pete didn’t know for how long. He found he couldn’t really care though. Macau was right here. He needed to get him to safety.

“Beam,” he barked. “We need to leave.” Beam looked up and nodded, speaking into the earpiece quietly before standing properly, giving Decha one last look before pulling up on Macau’s other side, so he was protected.

“But Decha-“ Macau started protesting as they started to leave.

“Backup is on its way khun Macau, don’t worry,” Beam was quick to assure him and then Pete forcibly pulled Macau along, the boy finally going with it. Pete pulled out his gun from his waistband, holding it in one hand and Macau with the other. If this was an organised attempt they were severely outnumbered and needed to get back to the (bulletproof) car as soon as possible.

“If more come, run for the car,” Pete told Macau sternly, hoping it wouldn’t come to that. The boy nodded, determined. “Don’t look back, get to the compound and stay safe okay?” Macau nodded again. “And if the compound is suspicious in any way, head for the main family.” Macau nodded yet again, with finality. Pete felt pride swell in his chest. Sometimes he forgot Macau was born and raised in this world.

Pete’s hopes had been in vain. As soon as they stepped into the parking lot, five cars pulled in, unloading several men with guns. Beam raised his gun and started firing, Pete doing the same, as they dove behind a parked car. Return fire was quick to come, pinging off the other side of the car and shattering the side mirror by Beam’s head. The gunfire continued to rain over them. Anyone who tried to get close to them got a clean shot to the head by either Pete or Beam. Macau was ducked down, trying to avoid any stray bullets. Eventually it stopped. Pete peered over the side of the car and saw a few of the men abandoning their big guns and disappearing. He noticed them heading for a back alley and figured they would try and run up on them from the other side.

“We need to move,” he said with urgency.

“How, P’?” Macau protested. Pete looked over at Beam but he deferred to Pete. Technically Pete was the one with most experience in the situation so he figured that was smart.

“Right,” Pete nodded, it had been a while since he did this but he tried to channel his bodyguard persona. “Head for the alley over there,” he nodded at the indicated street, which was in front of them, the route there still protected by cars. “The men heading up there were few and they dropped their big guns so it will be easier to fight through them. Beam, try and return fire if the ones behind us start shooting.” Pete said, Beam nodded, and Pete hauled Macau up into a crouched run. Bullets immediately started raining again but they kept low and kept behind the parked cars. Beam returned it as best as he could while running. Pete heard a pained grunt and glanced to see his head bodyguard had been clipped in the shoulder. Pete pushed on faster and they reached the alleyway quickly. The bullets stopped. Pete stopped as well and observed as Beam ripped off the bottom of his shirt to tie his wound. He also saw Macau picking up a broken lead pipe.

“What?” Macau said at his questioning gaze. “I need a weapon too.” Pete sighed but conceded that it would be a good idea.

“Okay let’s hurry,” he urged them onward. It didn’t take long before they were met by the men who had left the parking lot to box them in. Pete immediately fired off two shots, bringing down two of them. Beam was holding his own, even with an injured arm, and Macau stayed behind Pete for the time being. Their enemies were firing back enthusiastically but seemed to aim more for Beam and not Pete or Macau. Pete had to assume they wanted them alive. But why? The men were all wearing masks and dark clothing, but Pete spotted a tattoo on one of their hands. A playing card, the king of hearts. It was the symbol for Game’s gang. Pete instantly felt his mood souring. That bastard really turned on them like this, huh? He fired off the last of his round and instantly the men started advancing on them. Beam also quickly ran out of bullets and they had to resort to hand on hand fighting. Pete picked two of the five guys left and saw the rest heading for Beam. Pete punched one of them straight up the nose and heard a satisfying crack. The other, he kicked in the stomach. He noted Macau coming up behind him and slamming the pipe over one of the other men’s heads, knocking him unconscious, which made pride bloom in Pete’s chest.

He kept fighting but faltered when one of them whipped out a baton and swung for his knee. He fell down on the ground, hitting the pavement roughly with his legs, a pained grunt escaping him. Macau was there in a flash, beating at the two guys with his pipe. Pete glanced over to see Beam had been subdued, knocked out as it looked from his head wound. Two of the men he’d been fighting were dead but the last one stomped over to help his two buddies who were fighting Macau. Pete quickly got to his feet and grabbed the man in a punishing chokehold. A gun cocking had his attention in a second though, and he whipped his head up to see Macau kneeling on the ground with a gun pointed at his head, which was bleeding. It reminded Pete of the day he’d been pushed into the koi pond. Pete’s grip on the man in his chokehold tightened.

“Let him go!” The man holding a gun to Macau’s head demanded. Pete scowled at him but one look at Macau’s glossy eyes made him slowly let go. The man gasped desperately for air and scrambled away from him. Pete was trying to figure out a way for them to get out of this when he heard footsteps rushing over. And it was just their luck that the people arriving were not their backup, but more goons from Game’s gang, the ones who had been shooting at them in the parking lot.

“Drop to your knees,” one of the newly arrived men demanded and pointed his gun at Pete’s head. There were several pointed at his head actually. Pete reluctantly got down on his knees. Even if he’d clocked that they didn’t want to kill them, that didn’t stop any maiming or injuring and he didn’t want to risk Macau. “You’re coming with us.” The same man spoke as he approached Pete. The man had a nasty grin on his face, enhanced by his ugly moustache. Pete kept calm outwardly, but inside he was panicking a little bit. There was no way for him to get both of them out of this safely. Maybe he could get Macau free. But one look at the boy and his head wound had him second guessing. Macau was listing to one side, looking disoriented. He might not be able to run for it.

The man was finally upon him, pulling out handcuffs as his accomplices kept pointing their guns at him. Pete roughly bit his bottom lip, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth it to resist at this point. Within two minutes they were both cuffed and dragged toward the parking lot where your typical white kidnapping van was waiting. Pete rolled his eyes at that. Him and Macau were pushed inside, three of the goons following them and pulling the door closed. Then they started moving.

Chapter Text

Vegas was listening to the rambling of a man who ran one of their casino locations, and barely suppressed a yawn. This man had been talking for almost one hour and he was not showing signs of stopping. Kinn knew exactly what he was doing when he assigned Vegas to these meetings. Bastard. Vegas really despised his cousins, they were all so fucking determined to make life harder for him. Even Kim was insufferable. Kinn was the worst by far though, smug and arrogant. Even Tankhun had mellowed after Pete had a talk with him. But Kinn just got under Vegas’s skin. Maybe because it was still always a competition with him, it seemed like they couldn’t get out of it. Vegas remembered a time when they were very young, where they always played with each other, joined at the hip. Then their mothers died.

“Khun Vegas,” Nop interrupted his musings from his spot in the corner of the room, mouth set tightly, the only sign something was deeply wrong. Vegas immediately held up a hand to shush the casino manager.

“Nop,” he said, voice teetering on murderous. Nop, to his credit, did not look the least bit scared.

“Beam just radioed in, there has been an incident.”

And Vegas felt like his heart dropped out of his chest.

~

The car could not drive fast enough for Vegas’s taste. He was weaving in and out of traffic, ignoring every rule. Nop still looked calm as ever, except for that little tenseness around his lips, sitting in the front seat next to him with a running feed of the situation going down in the mall. Vegas’s heart was still beating double time in his chest and absolutely refused to calm down. Beam had reported that they were pinned down behind a car, and Vegas could hear Pete’s voice occasionally, giving orders. Every time he did his heart did a little relieved jump, knowing they were even alive settled his bones infinitesimally. There was the continued sound of shooting which soon faded to flesh on flesh punches. Vegas was glaring at the traffic, pissed that the mall was so fucking far. Or at least, felt really fucking far.

“Drop to your knees,” a voice then spoke, the sounds of fighting having evaporated completely. Vegas gripped the wheel tighter. This could not be happening. He refused.

“You’re coming with us.”

There was some shuffling and unintelligible muttering through the comms and then it went silent. Too silent.

“Nop,” Vegas said, urgently, wanting to convey every little thing he wanted to say in that short word.

“They moved out of range from Beam,” Nop reported. “And both their trackers vanished off the map.”

“What do you mean vanished?” Vegas a managed to bark.

“They must be jamming them,” Nop said, after listening in his earpiece for a second. Vegas stepped on the gas a bit harder and they finally peeled into the parking lot. It was dead silent except for some mall goers huddling up in terrified groups. Vegas could distantly hear the sirens. He jumped out of the car with Nop and followed as his bodyguard started running. They entered the mall, seeing Decha bleeding out on the floor. One of the mall goers was at least putting pressure on the wound. Vegas felt an all consuming anger at the man for failing at his job, but he tried to calm down. Nop motioned for the bodyguards who had been in the car behind them to take over the situation and started heading out again. Vegas followed.

They found Beam in the back alley of the mall and Nop quickly ran over to check him. He had a head wound but no other visible injuries. And again, Vegas felt that anger rising up and fucking choking him. Nop managed to shake Beam awake and Vegas quickly stalked over, grabbing Beam by the collar.

“What the fuck happened?” He hissed menacingly at the man. “Where the fuck are they?”

Beam did not have much to say, staring down at the ground instead.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I don’t know.” Vegas gritted his teeth, giving the man a shake before letting go and stepping back, a shout of anger leaving him as his heart hammered in his chest. This was fucked. This was all so fucked.

~

Vegas was desperate. No one had seen which vehicle they had been taken in, no one could get the signal to the trackers unjammed, no one could say who took them, no one could do anything to help at all. Beam and Decha were both being treated urgently in the infirmary so Vegas forced himself to calm down, having to wait for their reports. In the meantime, he was working with the guards to try and regain the tracking signal.

“They must be in a vehicle heading north,” Cake, one of Macau’s guards, spoke, pointing on the paper map of Bangkok he’d laid out. Vegas leaned over it, clenching at the table. “The cameras were tampered with and didn’t pick up on the exact vehicle but only 14 vans left the mall parking lot today and it would have to be one of those.” Vegas nodded tersely. He looked up when another guard entered the control room.

“Khun Vegas,” he bowed hastily. “The main family are inquiring about your presence.”

“Tell them to fuck off,” Vegas bit out, looking back at the map. The guard looked like he very much did not want to do that.

“Khun Vegas-“

“Leave.”

“But-“

“Did I fucking stutter?” Vegas snarled, turning venomous eyes on the man, who cowered. Good.

Well, Pete wouldn’t like that. But Vegas couldn’t really care about that right now, because Pete was not here to tell him that. The man left the room swiftly. Vegas turned back to the map. Cake was glancing at him apprehensively, but continued laying out the possible routes.

“I want surveillance on all the vans that left today,” Vegas ordered when Cake was done, turning to leave the room. “And get the fucking signal working.”

With that, he slammed the door, stalking toward his and Pete’s room. Every guard and worker in his way quickly moved when they saw him coming so Vegas figured he must be looking some type of way. As soon as he entered the room and closed the door he let himself slump over, back against the door. His heart was still hammering in his chest, not giving him any room to breathe. Vegas tried to take deep breaths, but it was so fucking hard when Pete wasn’t there. He was gone. Gone. He’d left Vegas. No, not left. He was taken. Fuck fuck fuck.

Vegas threw his head back against the door and it hurt, the back of his head throbbing at the move. Good, he deserved that, Pete and Macau were gone. The two people Vegas had always sworn to himself to protect. But as usual, he was useless at it all. Vegas tried to pull in some more deep breaths. He couldn’t afford to do this now, he had to find them, he had to stay sharp and ready.

So with one final breath, he opened the door.

~

Vegas headed straight for the infirmary when word reached him that Beam was somewhat lucid. He hurried into the man’s room, where Beam was sitting in a hospital gown, head wrapped up with gauze. Vegas walked over to him, grabbing the man by the forearm.

“Report, immediately,” Vegas barked. Beam’s face settled into a stoic mask as he relayed the events. It wasn’t anything new, Vegas had heard the whole thing over the comms after all.

“Do you have anything fucking useful to say?” Vegas demanded, frowning at the man. Beam looked appropriately shamed at having nothing to offer, before he perked up infinitesimally.

“Pete was bugged by khun Game at the meeting today,” he spoke. Vegas inwardly startled at that. Outwardly, he barely moved a muscle, except tightening his bruising grip on Beam’s forearm.

“Why is this the first time I’m hearing of this.”

“Khun Pete asked us not to say, he wanted to tell you himself,” Beam reported dutifully. Vegas drew in a breath through his nose before letting go of the man.

“Are you saying this abduction is Game’s doing?” Vegas confirmed. Beam nodded hesitantly.

“It’s possible, khun.”

Vegas nodded slowly. Fine. If Game wanted to play. Vegas was ready to play.

~

They set to work immediately on locating Game or his gang members. They had files on all potential allies for the Theerapanyakul empire but Game’s file didn’t have anything helpful at all. Vegas personally scoured the known locations of the gang and determined none of them would be where Pete and Macau had been taken. He still sent guards to scope them all out, with no luck. Game had disappeared off the earth. Vegas didn’t understand what he wanted, there had been no ransom text or video or note. Nothing to say why they had been taken, for what purpose? Vegas hated not knowing things, and usually prided himself on his ability to read people. But this was fucking with him.

Game could have wanted Pete for information, for power, for money, for his own twisted pleasure. Vegas could see it and it made his blood boil, just thinking about the times Game had leered at Pete during their meetings. But why take Macau too? Sure, the ransom (which he still hadn’t asked for) would be hefty but Macau didn’t have much information about many things, Vegas made sure of it. And Game had never met Macau either so why… Vegas just couldn’t wrap his head around it as he shuffled through the file on Game’s gang members.

Only one thing was for sure. It was all giving him a fucking headache.

~

It took three hours before the signal to the trackers came back to them. Tuen, one of the older guards on the minor family’s detail, was typing away at the computer when the two dots blinked into existence on the digital map.

“Khun Vegas,” he called, Vegas looking up from the files he was looking over on every known member of Game’s gang. None of whom they had managed to find yet. Nop was out in the field, trying to locate anyone who might be affiliated enough to know something about the abduction. “The signal is back.” Vegas was quickly on his feet, stalking over to the monitors by Tuen. His heart pounded as he watched the two dots moving. They were two hours out of Bangkok, which seemed very strange. The abduction happened 5 hours ago and they were still on the move, but only two hours out of Bangkok? Had they been driving in circles?

Vegas didn’t much care though, and quickly radioed out to the guards, ordering everyone to pack up as many weapons as they could and move out. His heart still refused to beat normally but Vegas had finally figured out why his fucking heart could not calm down. It wasn’t even in his chest. It was two blips on a screen, moving further and further away from him.

~

Vegas mentally took stock of his guns as they sat in the van. It was dark outside, which wasn’t ideal but they would have to make do. He had two tucked into his chest holster and one tucked into his black jeans. He was wearing a bulletproof vest over his white t-shirt and tried to not let the stuff material suffocate him. Vegas counted his knives to occupy his mind as they got further from the city. Nop was sitting beside him, holding the monitor which showed the trackers location. They had stopped around 30 minutes before, and hadn’t moved since. Vegas just hoped they weren’t dead. The thought made him shudder involuntarily but he quickly locked up his muscles. None of the guards were going to see him being vulnerable, absolutely not. He stowed away his panic, letting a mask of cold indifference slide over his face. This was just a mission. Nothing new.

There were three vans of minor family guards and Vegas hoped the manpower would be enough. From what he knew of Game’s gang they had roughly 25 active members. The minor family had 40 guards on duty, and 30 of them were with Vegas. The major family had way more but Vegas was not keen on talking to any of them about this or asking for help.

“Khun,” Nop spoke. “The location appears to be a industrial warehouse. But it’s under a shell company that can be traced back to Game.” Vegas frowned. There had been no discussions of further assets like shell companies during the negotiations with Game. He had lied to them. It settled uncomfortably in Vegas’s stomach, the idea that he was going in unknowingly. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen through Game before this, but something stirred in him, and he felt slightly chastised as he thought about it. He’d been so busy being jealous and possessive over Pete to properly fish for information during their meetings. He was so fucking weak. Stupid stupid stupid.

Vegas clenched his teeth together, trying to ignore that voice in his head.

“Delta and alpha teams go from the back and push them forward, try to identify targets before eliminating them. I want as much information as possible. And prioritize capturing one alive,” Vegas ordered through gritted teeth. Nop nodded and relayed the orders.

It wasn’t long before they reached the warehouse, a wide rectangular building that looked rundown. Vegas stepped out of the van confidently, watching as the guards from the other vans poured out and started heading for the warehouse’s back entrance. Vegas steeled his shoulders and pulled out a glock, starting for the main entrance, the remaining guards following him closely. Vegas couldn’t afford to be callous with this, so he took it slow, even if his body was buzzing with the desperate need to barge in and take back what was his. He nudged the door open with his shoulder, surprised it wasn’t locked - his first sign that something was off. Nop was right behind him, gesturing toward the guards, which had them splitting off in three groups. The warehouse was stacked with crates, open and closed, and Vegas could see a multitude of weapons and jewellery. Game has been keeping a lot from them apparently, a thought which pissed Vegas off to no end.

“Khun Vegas,” Nop spoke. “The delta team ran into two bodies.” Vegas looked at him sharply. There was his second sign.

“Game’s gang?” Vegas murmured.

“Unclear,” Nop responded. Vegas briefly turned it over in his head but couldn’t make sense of it. It was unsettling, the whole situation, but he would never forgive himself if he backed out now and Pete and Macau were actually right there - so he pressed onward.

When they had weaved through several crates, Vegas got his answer. His eyes caught on a glimpse of silver, and right there on a metal table by a crate filled with guns, was Pete’s necklace and Macau’s watch. The trackers. Vegas stalked over and grabbed at the items, growling all the while. They weren’t fucking there, they could be anywhere.

“Fuck!” He shouted, uncaring, and kicked the table over. Which gave him a new problem to focus on. The explosive charge taped to the underside of it, counting down. Vegas gaped at it, before shouting at Nop. “Evacuate! Right now!”

Nop swiftly assessed the situation and relayed it in the comms as they started running for the exit. Vegas still clutched the watch and necklace in his hand as they sprinted for the door they had come in through. The count on the charge had been down to 30 seconds so they did not have much time at all. He spared a thought for the delta and alpha teams in the back, they weren’t likely to make it out in time. Goddammit.

Vegas was panting by the time they made it out, Nop quickly leading him over to the parked vans to take cover, but not in time for the warehouse to go up in flames. The heatwave knocked Vegas off his feet, washing over his back. Pained screams rose up from the building and Vegas groaned softly, ears ringing from it all. He shifted enough to see the scene in front of him, the flaming warehouse, the bodyguards flailing about - on fire, and how alarmingly few of them seemed unharmed or alive. He noticed Nop was relatively unscathed at least. And the only thought in his head, slightly hysterical, was that Pete would be pissed at how many new guards he would have to recruit after this.

Chapter Text

Pete counted to 20 minutes before they stopped the van. Macau was across from him, still bleeding sluggishly, but at least conscious. The pit stop did not last long, they were quickly ushered out and into a new van. Changing vehicles, smart, at least Game’s goons weren’t complete idiots.

Another thirty minutes and they stopped again. This time they were led inside a rundown apartment complex after parking in a back alley. The apartment they entered was deceptive, as the inside housed several high tech gadgets and devices. Pete flicked his gaze around carefully, wary of this pit stop. It didn’t seem to be their final destination - there was a lack of chains and torture devices.

“Strip them,” the man who seemed to have some type of higher responsibility spoke. It wasn’t anyone Pete had seen before and he had been to every meeting Game had had with the Theerapanyakul’s. The man had curly hair and an annoying moustache and looked to be only half Thai.

“Hey!” Macau protested, although his voice sounded weak. Pete remained silent, waiting to see what would happen. He was swiftly stripped of his shoes, his hidden pocket knife and his jewellery, which had him nervous, but he kept his expression perfectly neutral. The man in charge examined the items critically and ran some type of test with a gently beeping device. He smirked when it let out a loud shrill beep, and picked up Pete’s necklace. Then he proceeded to do the same with Macau’s things, and got a similar sound from his watch, which was also picked up.

“Trackers, figures,” he murmured. “Khun Vegas seems like the type - he doesn’t lose his toys easily.” The ‘khun’ sounded venomous, coming from him. Pete wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. He heard Macau squawking indignantly though. “Lucky for you, all our vans have tracker jammers. And so does this condo.” Pete pressed his lips together. Damn. There went his primary plan. The men shuffled around a bit more, putting things in a big black bag, Pete only caught a few glimpses but he thought some of it was C-4 which was worrying. He did see clearly that both his necklace and Macau’s watch was dropped into it. Eventually they were led back to the van they had arrived in, although two of the men split off and left with the black bag. Pete didn’t manage to see where they disappeared off to, but it couldn’t be good.

They were back in the van in no time, strapped down and buckled in. Macau gave Pete a short look, eyes blinking in question. Pete shook his head slightly. Macau let out a small sigh but leaned back against the interior, closing his eyes. Pete glanced at the mustache man and additional man in the back with them, and then at the tiny window showing the driver and passenger. He shifted his hands and shuffled his feet slightly, feeling the pull of chains on his wrists and ankles. No, not time to escape yet.

~

The drive lasted for 40 minutes and when they exited the vehicle they were met with a very pretty view. A large mansion situated in a forest area, tall trees surrounding it on every side. The house looked to be three stories and had beautifully crafted wooden details. Pete tried to take in as much of the surroundings as possible but only saw trees and more trees. They were quickly shuffled inside the house, the door closing behind them, a lock clicking into place. Pete glanced over to see the windows had been reinforced with padlocks and probably bulletproof glass. The foyer they entered was wide and elegant, vases and fresh flowers in abundance.

They didn’t stay long though, the men marched them down a set of stairs and right into a basement. They were finally led through an open door and yes, there it was. Pete looked at the various torture instruments lining the walls and the chains waiting for them inside a smaller room beyond the walls of torture devices. Macau was fastened first, his handcuffs being locked into the chain coming down from the ceiling. Pete was next to be locked in. There was a surprising amount of give to the chains, they could walk the whole surface. Unfortunately there was nothing inside except for a bucket in the corner.

Mustache man gave them a smirk before closing the door on them, the lock clicking into place. Pete thought it sounded like a padlock, which made things slightly more difficult on their side. Macau sank to the floor as soon as they were gone, cradling his head.

“Fuck,” he muttered softly. Pete pulled slightly at his handcuffs, trying to get used to the feeling, before approaching the boy and crouching down next to him.

“Hey,” Pete murmured, looking up at the ceiling. At least it didn’t look like there were cameras in the room, but he needed to sweep for any bugs. But for now, distressed Macau. Pete put his hand gently on Macau’s shoulder. “Let me see.” Macau pulled in a deep breath before turning toward him, hands falling away to reveal the sluggishly bleeding wound. Pete frowned as he inspected it. It looked superficial, and head wounds did tend to bleed a lot. “Any dizziness? Confusion?”

“No,” Macau muttered. “It’s all perfectly clear unfortunately. I can’t believe we’ve been kidnapped, this is such bullshit.” Yeah he was fine. Pete rolled his eyes fondly, reaching up to gently sweep Macau’s hair back. He then quickly ripped off a strip from the underside of his button up shirt and wrapped it around Macau’s head instead, like a makeshift bandage. Macau winced at the pressure but let him do it.

“Come on, you’ve had training for this,” Pete tried to sound encouraging but his heart was pounding in his chest, scared for Macau’s safety. Macau hummed, noncommittal.

“But it’s still never happened,” he murmured. Pete kept petting Macau’s hair gently, getting comfortable on the floor. “The only one who has been is p’Tankhun.” Oh yes, and Pete knew all about it, he’d been hired a few years after the incident and a big part of his job at the start had been implementing measures preventing it from happening again.

“Well…” Pete hummed. “Now you can also claim that badge at least.” He tried to joke but it fell flat, which convinced him that Macau was doing way worse than he let on. The boy never missed an opportunity to one up his cousins. Pete scooted closer, putting his arm around Macau’s shoulders. The boy sank into him.

“Hey,” Pete said gently. “I’m sure your brother is already on his way, ready to bust in here, okay? He won’t let them get away with this.”

“But they took our trackers,” Macau murmured into his neck.

“He’ll find a way,” Pete was absolutely certain of it. “And until then, I’ll protect you, okay? That’s my job after all.” Pete smiled a bit, the roads always seemed to lead him down the same way.

“Not anymore,” Macau protested. “And I don’t need protection.”

“I know, but still. I want to protect you, just let me,” Pete said with a fond smile. Macau glanced up at him.

“Fine,” he responded. “But only if you let me protect you too.” Pete had to bite his lip to stop from hysterically laughing. Having been a bodyguard for close to ten years, he was not used to anyone wanting to guard him for a change. This was why Macau was his favourite.

“Deal,” Pete promised, nodding at the younger boy. Macau seemed satisfied with that. Pete hoped Vegas would arrive before it came to them having to protect each other though. He could only imagine the panic Vegas was feeling right now. If it was him, and Vegas and Macau were missing, he didn’t know what he’d do. But it would be gory, for sure. Either way, Vegas would find them, or they would escape. Whichever came first.

Now they just had to settle in and wait.

~

They did not have to wait long before the door rattled open. Pete had gotten to his feet, doing a standard sweep of the room and finding nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t even bugged. After that, he settled for standing in the middle of the room, trying to figure out their next move. Macau was still sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. It was as he was standing there, that their guest entered. Pete held himself back from scoffing when he saw who it was. The man entered, dressed in an elegant maroon suit, which definitely didn’t suit him very well. He looked at them both for a long while before speaking, eyes on Pete.

“You don’t seem very surprised to see me,” Game mused, looking thoughtful. Pete took a split second to consider his approach with the man.

“Well, your men weren’t the most subtle I’ve ever met, khun Game,” Pete said, aloof, putting emphasis on the khun. Game considered him.

“You know, when I found out you used to be a head bodyguard for the main family I didn’t quite believe it,” Game started, walking around the small space. “But I see it now. Where’s that pretty smile, Pete?” Pete stared at him, unmoved. “Fascinating.”

Pete still didn’t respond. He wondered what exactly Game wanted from them. Usually kidnapping happened for a few reasons, most commonly: information, ransom money or personal vendetta. He just needed to figure out which one Game was heading for.

“Not very talkative today are we? You seemed very talkative this morning,” Game spoke, smile sharp. “And I would like you to stay that way.”

Ahh, so information it was. Pete should’ve known. Game wouldn’t have dragged their meetings out so much otherwise. He was feeling them out, getting ahead in the playing field.

“What the fuck do you want?” Macau suddenly growled, no tact at all. Game looked at him, still smiling in that unsettling way. Macau shifted uncomfortably.

“Well, I want many things, Macau.” Pete took note of the blatant disrespect. “And hopefully you can give them to me.” Game suddenly stepped a bit closer to where Macau was sitting and Pete reacted without thinking, stepping in front of him immediately. Game reared back a little bit, then he laughed.

“Ahh, what a good little bodyguard you must have been,” he almost cooed, Pete remained calm, even as Macau started protesting. “Such a shame for someone like yourself to become Vegas’s whore.”

“Hey!” Macau stood, wobbling a bit. “Don’t talk to him like that!” Game didn’t look away from Pete, and Game’s smile fell a little. Apparently not satisfied with the lack of response he was getting from Pete, he stepped closer. Pete could feel his breath fanning his cheek, but kept eye contact.

“Seems like you’ve got both brothers under your spell,” Game murmured, a hand coming up to grab Pete’s chin hard. “Maybe I should find out for myself what’s making them so hot and bothered for you.” Pete remained stoic, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He had many insults thrown at him in his life and this wasn’t even the worst of them, so he told himself he could take it.

Game searched his gaze for any twitchiness but when he found none his mouth set angrily. Pete was prepared when he reared back and slapped him. A few seconds went by in shocked silence from Macau and even Game seemed like he hadn’t meant to do that. Not yet at least. Pete had to laugh. Vegas hit him harder than that in bed.

“Is this fucking funny?” Game demanded. “Shut the fuck up!” Pete chuckled a bit more, then fell silent again. His cheek was throbbing and it was thrilling.

“What do you want from us?” Macau demanded again, voice a bit weaker than before. Game still looked pissed but hummed at his question.

“I’ll return for breakfast. We’ll see if you’re more agreeable then,” he said, then turned and walked out, the lock clicking in place again. The tension drained from both of them quickly. Macau rushed over to look at Pete’s cheek.

“It looks okay, I think. Are you okay P’Pete?” he said, fretting over it. Pete grabbed his hands and held them gently.

“I’m fine, don’t worry. He didn’t hit me that hard,” he did not want to explain to Macau that Vegas had done worse to him, so he didn’t.

“Sure sounded hard,” Macau muttered but backed off. He fell to the floor again, sprawling out. “I’m tired P’Pete.”

“Then try and get some sleep, I’ll stay awake a bit longer,” Pete urged him softly. Macau nodded without protest, and closed his eyes. Pete thought everything over. It seemed like Game was mostly after information, about what though? And why?

The method seemed to be waiting them out, but Pete knew it wouldn’t be long before they started really hurting them. They must know Vegas would stop at nothing to get them back. They would just have to make sure they weren’t disposable before that. Easy enough if it had been only Pete, but Macau being there worried him. Pete knew they would use them against each other. Pete really hoped Vegas would hurry up.

~

The next morning, Pete had managed to get a few hours of sleep but the cold stone floor was less than inviting. Macau was still sleeping when he woke up. Pete had made sure
to wake up the boy every once in a while during the night to ensure he didn’t have a concussion.

He now sat on the floor, feeling around the edges of the walls for any stray nails they might use to open the handcuffs. So far, no luck.

Within a few minutes the door opened with a bang, and Pete startled slightly. Macau sat up, looking around blearily at having been woken up. Pete stood, eyes narrowed as Game walked in, looking pleasant as ever. Must have gotten his temper back in check then.

“Good morning,” he said cheerily. “Ready to talk?”

Macau had taken a page out of Pete’s book and remained silent. Game was unfazed.

“Maybe some prompting is in order,” he said lightly then gestured to someone outside. The man with the mustache from yesterday stepped in, walked over to Pete and grabbed him by the neck. Pete squirmed a bit, but another man came inside to pull at the chains he was attached to, making them taut. Pete could only manage to stand, hands pulled up above him. This was very familiar, and he did not like to be reminded of those times. Mustache man held him tightly by the neck as the other man came forward and pulled his shirt open roughly, buttons flying around. Pete shivered as his chest and stomach were exposed to the cold air in the basement. Game chuckled at the sight, walking closer to him, a hand coming up to caress the faint white scar lines on his chest, and then the more fresh bruises. Pete hated that they were up for display for them to see. Usually he didn’t mind it, especially since he knew Vegas loved when people could see who he belonged to. But now, it was unsettling.

“I assume you like it rough,” Game mused out loud, causing Pete’s ears to burn red, but he remained still. He did glance at Macau, who was still sitting on the floor, looking at Game apprehensively. “Good, maybe you’ll enjoy this then.” Pete set his lips tightly. They were moving quickly then. Game stepped back and gestured for one of his men who brought in a chair, which he sat down on. Mustache man let go of his neck and walked around to face him. Pete had a split second to brave himself before the first blow came. Mustache man started punching roughly, knuckles digging into Pete’s sides and stomach. Then a hand came up to hit him on the cheek, hard. Pete’s head swivelled around, and he got clear sight of Macau looking down at the floor, refusing to look at him. Which was good; he didn’t need to see this. Hearing it was bad enough. Pete tried to step out of his body, like they’d been taught, and treated this pain as an otherworldly thing.

A few minutes went by before mustache man stopped. Pete slumped in his chains.

“So,” Game said, unaffected by the whole ordeal. “Why don’t you start by telling me all of the minor family’s storage units for the drug distribution.” Pete furrowed his eyebrows. That’s what he wanted? Drugs? Made no sense.

“Why?” Pete questioned, voice managing to sound even in spite of the pain coursing through him, especially his ribs.

“Prisoners don’t get to ask questions,” Game said airily. “Tell me. I want locations.” Pete remained silent then. Game leaned back with a sigh in his chair.

“Hansu,” he gestured at the mustache man, who was apparently named Hansu, good to know, so Pete could stop referring to him as mustache man. Hansu nodded briefly before stepping out of the room. He entered again with a leather whip. Pete pulled in a deep breath and braced himself by grabbing his chains.

“Start with 10,” Game said, like he was discussing the weather. Hansu did as told. The first lash felt like liquid fire against his back. Pete managed to stifle a shout, but he must’ve made some type of noise because Macau whimpered softly. The 9 remaining lashes felt just as bad, but Pete managed to be mostly quiet. He’d always been one of the best at pain management. Chan had been impressed by that many times before and Pete was proud of it. It had certainly helped when Vegas was his captor (among other things). And it was again proven useful.

“Locations Pete,” Game spoke after Hansu was done. “Vegas must have divulged all information about the business if he was letting you have meetings by yourself,” Game mused. Pete was annoyed at that, again with the ‘let him’, like Vegas was his keeper. Game looked angrier by the minute since he was not getting the wanted results.

“Fine.” Game finally said, standing up. He walked over, grabbing the whip from Hansu, and then started his own session. Five lashes on the back of Pete’s thighs, which stung like a bitch. Three on his stomach. Five more on his back. Eventually he lost count, and his sense of time.

“-it! Stop it! Stop!” A voice finally cleared through the foggy pain. Macau. Game had backed off. Macau was now on his feet, standing in front of Pete’s limp form, facing off with the gang leader. “I’ll tell you.” Macau was breathing harshly as he spoke, and Pete could see his shoulders shaking from behind. Game smirked and sat down on his chair again, giving the whip to Hansu before sweeping his grey speckled hair back into place.

“Go on,” Game nodded at Macau.

“Macau,” Pete said, warningly, but he figured his raspy, and frankly weak voice did not have the effect he intended it to.

“I only know of a few,” Macau started, cautiously. Pete knew this was not true, but played along. Macau had done a lot of learning about the family businesses while Vegas was in a coma, and his knowledge about the ongoing business had not been appreciated by Vegas when he woke up. Pete had been glad Macau had something to focus on and had happily assisted his pursuit for knowledge after the boy pleaded with him. Macau and Pete had been the ones to search and empty out all of Kan’s stashes and his office, as well as his different vaults. So Macau was definitely more in the know than he was letting on.

Game seemed critical of his lack of knowledge as well, but didn’t protest. Yet.

“Fine. Point them out on the map,” Game demanded and then his henchman brought forth a paper map of Bangkok. Macau dutifully pointed to three places on it and the henchman marked them down. Game looked at it for a few seconds before nodding.

“If we find this intel to be moot, there will be consequences,” he spoke, “see you tomorrow beautiful.” He directed that last part at Pete who rolled his eyes in annoyance. They left the room thereafter and Hansu released his chains from their strung out positions before slamming the door on his way out. Pete slumped to the floor as his chains gave way, and stayed there. Macau quietly joined him. Pete took a few moments to gather himself and breathe.

“Are you okay?” Macau then asked, fidgeting like he couldn’t help himself. Pete opens his eyes to look at the boy. Macau’s eyes were red around the corners, and he was biting his lips anxiously. There was also fury brewing in his eyes. So like his brother but so not.

“I’m okay, nothing’s seriously damaged,” Pete relayed. Macau nodded. Pete was trying to feel his body but everything was like a bruise. He hoped there wasn’t too much blood, or he would be running out of shirt strips to tie around them.

“Good.”

“Good thinking by the way.” Pete sat up with some effort. “Giving them a few locations, no real damage done.”

“I figured they would at least be distracted.”

“You did good,” Pete repeated firmly. “Now come here.” He pulled at the boy with his hands, and Macau came willingly, sighing as he laid down on Pete’s thigh. Pete stroked his hair softly. Macau relaxed into it, body slacking completely. Pete’s entire body ached and he was bleeding sluggishly but it was okay. They just had to hold out a little longer.

Chapter Text

Tay looked around as the lobby filled up with people. The new hotel was located a bit further on the outskirts of Bangkok, and had a running theme of gold and red, stunning. The lobby was bathed in red lights and golden accents to emphasise the theme. Every guest also got a complementary sample of the hotel’s own fragrance that had been especially brought forward with Tay’s help. The people attending all seemed to enjoy the atmosphere so Tay felt pride swelling in his chest at that, he had worked closely with his father’s team on this launch and the payoff was amazing. His unconscious smile fell a little as he remembered Time wasn’t here to see it, but Tay was not going to let that ruin his night. He had let Time ruin too many of his nights already.

Tay shook himself out of his head and started doing rounds of greetings. He greeted everyone he recognised with a wide smile and well wishes, and everyone he didn’t with his name and a greeting wai. Tay had always been good with faces, that’s why his father always wanted him at events. Tay remembered a lot about people he spoke to, and everyone who spoke to him took a liking to him. Tay thought it was because, in a world where everybody were so busy talking about themselves, he was genuinely listening. Tay had always been a good listener. He was the youngest of four, with three older sisters, and they were all extremely outgoing. Tay often faded into the background, too much of a listener and observer to really participate in their greatness. He wondered if that was how Time saw him too. As a part of the decor, long since faded into the background.

It took him half an hour to greet people that had arrived, before he started searching out Kinn and Porsche. He hadn’t seen them arrive, but sure enough, they were standing in the far right of the lobby and talking to Time’s mother, four suited bodyguards flanking them (Tay was spiteful that even Time’s mother was here but he wasn’t, but he tried to let it go). When she hugged Kinn and continued on, Tay swiftly made his way over.

“Tay!” Porsche greeted him with that dazzling smile of his. Tay couldn’t help but genuinely smile back.

“Hello Porsche, Kinn,” Tay nodded his head, hugging them both. He nodded at the bodyguards behind them too, recognizing Arm, Fiat and Sand. The fourth one was newer though, Tay could tell by the way his eyes flacked around constantly and his hands were tightly clenched. Adorable really. “So, what do you think?” Tay inquired, curious.

“It looks amazing,” Kinn said, his expression contradicting his words. There was that bored look on his face as he looked around, but Tay knew it was part of the persona he had to uphold and didn’t take it personally. Porsche had no such qualms as he gushed about the decor.

“You’re so good at this Tay! Seriously,” Porsche told him. Tay smiled in thanks. They chatted for a bit longer before Tay remembered.

“Kinn, do you know if your cousin intends to show up?” Tay inquired. Kinn looked confused.

“Vegas?” He clarified. Tay rolled his eyes, because of course. “I don’t know. Haven’t heard anything about him intending to come here.” Tay frowned slightly. Pete didn’t seem like the type to bail on anything, so it would be strange for them not to even show up for a little while.

“Weird, Pete said they’d come,” Tay hummed.

“You asked Pete?” Kinn said, incredulous. Tay wanted to roll his eyes at him again.

“Yes. I asked Pete. Why not? Vegas is an important part of the network and Pete as well, as his partner,” Tay elaborated. Kinn looked a bit constipated, but Tay knew he was simply reworking his thoughts. Pete had been the main family’s bodyguard for a long while, it took time to reconcile the Pete then and Pete now. Even Tay struggled a bit with the change. Porsche seemed completely at ease though, but he was good like that.

“Maybe something came up,” he shrugged and they dismissed it. Tay couldn’t help but think about it during the night. Neither Pete nor Vegas showed up and no one knew why or where they were. Tay had a bad feeling about it.

The night continued on though, and the speech his father held about the hotel seemed very appreciated. The free alcohol certainly helped. Tay was only on his third glass of the evening, not into drinking heavily at events where he was hosting. He continued to mingle and chat with the guests, often returning to Kinn and Porsche to get a break from the stuffy officials and the sleazy mafia members. It was when he was chatting with Kinn that the first explosion went off.

~

Arm heard shouting in his earpiece before he heard and felt the blast. The explosion rocked the ground floor, but it still seemed relatively distant. Arm was quick to gesture for his colleagues and press down on his earpiece to relay to the guards stationed outside.

“Extraction of K and P imminent, prepare the vehicles.”

“Understood. Pursuit of the source is ongoing,” came the reply promptly.

“Understood,” Arm said, then he was at Kinn’s side. The man looked around, confused about the explosion, but swiftly followed as Arm started to lead him and Porsche out. Fiat came up behind them. Porsche also dragged Tay with them.

“Arm, what’s happening?” Porsche asked, sounding apprehensive, his bodyguard mode on.

“Unclear, we’re investigating,” Arm relayed. They made their way outside the establishment amidst the panicking guests who were also scrambling to leave. Having several bodyguards helped their case significantly though.

Once outside, the second blast went off, closer this time. Arm had Kinn and Porsche (and Tay) duck behind the car as heat blasted over them. People around them were panicking even more, running around heedlessly trying to get in their cars.

“What is going on?!” Tay shouted over the screaming. Arm pursed his lips. He had no idea. And he did not like having no idea. Arm was usually the one who had all the answers. He stayed quiet and simply opened the doors for his charges. Porsche got in and Kinn made to follow when Tay stopped him.

“I need to check on my pa, and handle this mess,” Tay said, eyes shiny. There was no doubt Tay’s family’s guards were already trying to do damage control. Kinn nodded gravely, grabbing Tay’s hand gently.

“Come to the compound after you’ve settled everything,” Kinn told him. Tay nodded determinedly before turning away. Arm closed the door as Kinn got in and then took the front seat.

They were on their way within seconds.

~

Vegas’s ears were still ringing as he tore down the road. He was bleeding down the front and his cheek was scratched to hell from being blasted to the ground. Nop was in the passenger seat. He had tried insisting that he drive but Vegas had refused. He needed to feel in control of something. And that was currently driving this fucking van.

Only Nop, Cake, two of Pete’s guards and three of Vegas’s made it out of the blast. The rest were dead or heavily injured. Their resources were depleted, they had no new leads and the warehouse was a complete bust. Vegas could feel the headache coming on. What the fuck was he supposed to do?

“Sir,” Nop spoke, brave of him, considering Vegas felt ready to murder someone. Anyone really.

“What?” He barked.

“With all due respect, where are we heading?” Nop asked. “We can’t keep going like this with no plan. We need more resources.” Nop was calm as he said this, like always, but Vegas could tell it grated on him. And he understood why.

“Are you saying I should go to the main family,” Vegas gritted through his bleeding teeth. Nop didn’t answer, and that was answer enough. Vegas tried to keep his breathing even, feeling the rapid beating of his heart, the blood pumping in his ears. The idea of asking the main family for any favours made him want to die. But if he didn’t get Pete and Macau back soon, dying would be a fucking mercy.

“Fuck!” He shouted, hitting the steering wheel. “Fucking fine! We’ll go there.”

~

Porchay was just heading downstairs for a glass of water when commotion caught his attention. He could hear his brother’s raised voice followed by Kinn’s calmer one. Then Tankhun’s swiftly followed, less frantic but not as calm as Kinn. Porchay had a feeling something was very wrong, and his stomach had been turning all night since Macau hadn’t responded to his texts at all after saying they were at the mall. Porchay figured he was busy, but hearing the arguing going on, something more sinister must have happened. Swiftly, he padded over to the meeting room the sound was coming from instead of heading to the kitchen.

He felt severely underdressed as he entered and saw Kinn, Porsche and Tay wearing their finest suits, and the bodyguards were also fully decked out. Even Kim was there, still in his day clothes. He must not have left the compound after Porchay went to bed. Tankhun’s pajamas and robes comforted him though, even if they were far more extravagant than Porchay’s ratty t-shirt that was a hand me down from Porsche, and his shorts. Porchay listened to the nonsensical arguing for a few more moments before speaking over them.

“What’s going on?!” His voice stopped all other conversation.

“Chay…” Porsche said, looking like he was going to send him back to his room. Porchay stopped that immediately.

“I want to know what’s going on. Is it Macau?” He asked, anxious, but determined. The others seemed shocked though.

“Macau? What’s wrong with Macau?” Kinn asked him, voice lilting like he couldn’t believe anything would be wrong with Macau. Porchay understood why, Macau was the most normal one out of all the cousins.

“He hasn’t been responding to texts since this morning,” Porchay reported petulantly. “I’m worried.”

“I’m sure he’s just busy-“ Kinn started.

“No,” Tankhun interrupted swiftly, sounding more alert than he usually did. At least from what Porchay had seen of him. “It makes perfect sense. Vegas didn’t take your call.” Kinn rolled his eyes.

“That was hours ago now. Why would that have anything to do with anything? Vegas loves ignoring me when it’s most inconvenient for me,” Kinn said through gritted teeth.

“Pete wouldn’t let him,” Porsche protested.

“Unless Pete wasn’t there,” Tay said then, quietly, but apparently the sentence carried.

“What?” Kinn sputtered. Tay looked around, noticing the attention was on him.

“Well,” he started, “Pete said they would come to the gala, but they didn’t. No one’s heard from them, and Vegas is not taking your calls. Maybe something’s wrong with Pete or Macau,” Tay trailed off uncertainly.

“What makes you think it isn’t Vegas something’s wrong with?” Tankhun asked, genuinely curious.

“The bodyguard on call would’ve said so, or Pete would’ve contacted you immediately. Vegas likes to do things on his own,” Tay concluded.

“Where’s the lie though?” Porsche nodded tiredly.

“Fine, fine. But that still doesn’t explain the explosions,” Kinn said.

“They’re a diversion,” Kim said, not looking up from his phone. His posture was tense though, Porchay could see it. “There was another at a seemingly abandoned warehouse an hour and a half ago. Vegas was there.”

“How the fuck-“

“You know what, Porsche, we don’t question the youngest brothers here,” Tankhun stopped him. “Where is Vegas now?”

“And what warehouse? Why would he be there? And why would there be an explosion there?” Kinn fired off in quick succession.

“They’re distracting us from something,” Kim repeated. “The warehouse looks to be a shell company, I cannot see who’s though.”

“It belongs to khun Game. The man Pete had a meeting with today,” Arm piped in swiftly, showing the profile of the man on his touchpad. Porchay was spinning from all the information. He just wanted to know what happened to his best friend.

“What does this have to do with Macau though?” He said impatiently.

“We need to talk to Vegas,” Tay said, looking at Kinn pointedly. The mafia boss clenched his jaw.

“What do you want me to do? He won’t take calls. And if he’s not at the minor family mansion there’s no point in going there and trying to talk either,” Kinn pointed out.

“There’s obviously a targeted attack going on,” Porsche spoke. “We need to work together. If Vegas has information we need to get ahold of him. Maybe if we split up? Some people head for the mansion and sweep it and some head for the warehouse,” Porsche suggested. Kinn looked very displeased at that.

“No,” he said firmly. “We are not splitting. The mansion could be compromised and the warehouse is definitely compromised. I’m not risking that.”

“Kinn,” Porsche spoke, and Porchay saw his brother reach out to grab Kinn’s hand gently. “If something is wrong with Pete I need to know.”

“Waiting is the best course of action,” Kinn emphasised.

“Ai’Kinn! Are you dumb?!” Tankhun suddenly shrieked. “This is exactly what you did last time! And then we almost lost him!”

“Tankhun is right,” Porsche said, eyebrows set in that stubborn way Porchay loved to see in his brother. “I don’t want to make the same mistake with Pete again. Do you?”

Before Kinn could answer, Arm spoke.

“Khun Kinn! Khun Vegas just pulled into the driveway!”

~

Kinn didn’t know how to feel when their little group headed for the living area. Vegas had barged in, after Arm told the guards through the comms it was okay, and they rushed to meet up with him in the sitting area. The first thing Kinn saw was the abandoned bulletproof vest on the floor, sprayed with blood. Second, he saw Vegas himself. His cousin was pacing back and forth, hands locked tightly behind his back. Vegas looked up sharply when they entered, eyes almost feral. Kinn recoiled slightly, and scolded himself. He was stronger than that. Get a grip.

“Vegas-“ he started, then faltered as he took in his cousin’s full state. Vegas was bleeding sluggishly from the corner of his mouth, his face was scraped up on one side, his hair was ruffled and his white T-shirt was bloodied. Guns were peeking out from holsters on him, and Kinn saw two knives in the holsters as well. “What happened?” Kinn asked sternly. Vegas mouth twisted in an unpleasant way, almost anguished and Kinn was surprised. It had been a while since Vegas showed his emotions so openly in front of them. The last time Kinn could tell what Vegas was genuinely thinking was when they were kids.

“What happened? What fucking happened indeed,” Vegas said, seeming to gather himself enough to stand straight and face them. Kinn noticed Vegas’s head bodyguard straightening as well, looking as beaten as Vegas himself.

“Vegas,” Tay spoke, voice gentle and soothing. Kinn glanced around and saw similar expressions on his companions. Tay, Porchay and Porsche all looked slightly taken aback by Vegas’s state. “Are you okay?”

Vegas scoffed harshly at that, hand coming up to seemingly touch his hair, but he aborted the movement halfway through, letting it fall back to his side again. Tankhun and Kim were both looking on apprehensively, Kinn felt similar to them.

“What a fucking question,” Vegas said then, voice venomous. “Let me just recap the fucking day I’ve had. Pete and Macau have both been taken by a fucking nobody gang leader, the clues we followed led to a warehouse in the middle of fucking nowhere and it literally blew up in our faces and we lost majority of our guards to that,” Vegas spoke, voice gradually growing more agitated. Kinn felt his face move into stunned territory.

“Both P’Pete and Macau have been kidnapped?” Porchay asked, looking despaired. Vegas drew a shuddering breath, looking like he was at the end of his patience.

“Do you all just sit on your asses here all day? How the fuck did you not notice?” Vegas asked, looking accusingly at Kinn, who bristled familiarly.

“How would we know? You didn’t pick up the phone,” Kinn said. Vegas laughed harshly.

“You know, this is so typical,” Vegas exploded. “You always do this huh? I thought maybe it was temporary lapse in judgement when Pete was gone the first time around but you really only rely on one phone call and then you’re done? You don’t bother to investigate further? Even just turning on the news would’ve given you all the fucking information! The incident at the mall was all over!” Kinn could feel his blood boiling. Only Vegas could get him to be like this.

“The first time around? And whose fucking fault was it the first time around? Don’t talk to me about that when you’re the one who fucked him up the first time around,” Kinn spat back, heart thudding harshly against his chest. However, as soon as he said it, guilt twisted in his stomach. Vegas reeled back like someone had punched him in the face, looking wounded. And wasn’t that a sight - Kinn could count on one hand how often he’d seen that expression on Vegas’s face.

“Kinn!” Porsche barked harshly, Kinn looked back to see his boyfriend looking supremely disappointed and also worried. He had to remind himself that Porsche just heard his best friend had been kidnapped. “This is so not the time for this,” Porsche continued and pushed Kinn aside to get closer to Vegas. Not too close though.

“Vegas,” Porsche called, gentler than he’d sounded with Vegas since before the coup. Vegas still looked out of it though, but only minutely before it looked like he pulled back into himself, eyes coming up to meet Kinn’s. It was unsettling, his gaze. Filled with so much sorrow, desperation and swirling emotions Kinn had never seen from his cousin before.

“What do you want from me?” Vegas said, voice unsteady. “You win, okay? Want me to say it? Yes I fucking kidnapped him. I tortured him. I did so many horrible things and he still loves me. I know I don’t fucking deserve it, but he does. I’m fucked up and broken and insane but I love him. Him and Macau are everything I have left.” For once, Kinn was stunned into genuine silence. Vegas had never been this honest with them ever. “I can’t fucking lose them. They’re all I have. And I know it’s selfish and horrible to keep them but I can’t stop. I am selfish and horrible, right? So I can’t give them up.”

Then, Kinn didn’t think he could be more shocked tonight but here we are, Vegas dropped to his knees. The thud of his knees on the hardwood floor was loud and Kinn knew it must’ve hurt like hell, but Vegas simply shook his head, looking purely desperate, and then tears spilled over his cheeks.

“Help me, okay? Fucking help me get them back,” Vegas outright pleaded with them, on his knees, looking pitiful. “I’ll do anything. You win, okay? Take control of the minor family, take all the wealth, take all the deals. Beat me up if you want, I don’t care.” Vegas’s voice was scratchy and pained as he spoke and Kinn itched to get him to stop. Vegas had never been like this, he had to stop being so weird.

“Vegas.” Tankhun’s voice was wobbly but he spoke with firmness. “Get up.” Vegas still had tears running down his face and he shook his head, a choked sob sounding from him.

“No,” he managed. “No, not until you help me.” He sounded like such a helpless child, Kinn didn’t know what to do. He was frozen in his spot. Tankhun seemed to have had enough though. He stormed over and, in a surprising show of strength, hauled Vegas to his feet by his bloody shirt. Tankhun firmly held Vegas’ face between his hands, not caring about the blood.

“Vegas,” he said again. “Stop begging, we’ll help you. Of course, we will.” Vegas seemed to gather himself slightly at that, but tears still ran silently down his cheeks.

“Under what conditions?” He asked, looking resigned to his fate.

“No conditions,” Tankhun said firmly, shaking Vegas’s face slightly. “Pete and Macau are family, you hear me?” Vegas mouth fell open in shock. He seemed like he wanted to say something but stopped himself. Then he glanced at Kinn, who felt compelled to say something.

“No conditions,” he reiterated, listening to his older brother. Vegas drew a shuddering breath at that, still crying, rather pathetically. Tankhun pulled him in by the face and gave him a fierce hug that seemed to surprise everyone in the room. Vegas froze for a few seconds before quickly putting his arms around Tankhun’s waist, holding him tightly as he sobbed into his oldest cousin’s shoulder. It drew up a memory from the dredges of Kinn’s mind, something distant, from their childhood. Vegas had accidentally broken something in the major family’s house and his dad had given him a rather rough slap. Kinn remembered being shocked at the treatment but somehow it had slipped his mind in later years. Tankhun had been the one to hug Vegas after and give him ice cream to cheer him up after he sobbed his five year old heart out. This felt eerily similar.

“Let’s get Pete and Macau back,” Porsche said firmly, drawing the attention from Vegas’s shaking form as he gestured for Arm. “Arm, what do we have to work with?”