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“You have to drink, it’s how the game works!” Tay insisted yet again as Kinn rolled his eyes and threw back a shot. “You act like we don’t all know that you’ve fucked Porsche in a pool,” Tay raised one eyebrow at Kinn, sitting back in the booth, as Arm and Pol stifled laughs.
Pete glanced at Vegas who was staring at the large group with contempt, eyes flitting to each person, before finally landing on Pete. Pete smiled to himself when Vegas’ eyes instantly softened upon seeing Pete looking at him. Pete settled back into the crook of Vegas’ arm resting on the back of the booth behind him. “I’m glad you’re here,” Pete whispered to Vegas for probably the tenth time that night, leaning in to press a light kiss to the underside of Vegas’ jaw.
Pete didn’t flinch at the retching sound Tankhun made from beside him, but he easily picked up on the annoyance in Vegas’ movements in the way he bounced his leg slightly up and down. Pete reached a hand out and rested it on Vegas’ thigh, familiar, squeezing and releasing it at a slow pace. From his position half leaning on Vegas, Pete could feel Vegas begin to breathe more easily just from Pete’s reassuring movements. Pete couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine, goosebumps forming involuntarily, when Vegas bent the arm that was resting behind Pete so that he could lightly run his fingers through the back of Pete’s hair.
“Okay, Kinn, it’s your turn!” Porsche interrupted Pete’s thoughts, pulling him back into the game. Porsche had somehow managed to get almost the whole crew—his whole crew—together at Yok’s bar that night and the group had taken over a large booth tucked away in the back reserved for Yok’s “special guests only,” as she had winked at them as they entered several hours earlier, Porsche kissing her outstretched hand. Pete knew that this was absolutely not Vegas’ scene—Vegas was reluctant to “hang out” with anybody, let alone his cousins and their entourage. These were Pete’s friends though, Porsche had invited them, had specifically made sure to let Pete know that he was “inviting Vegas too!” and Pete couldn’t help but want to get Vegas out more, to let him see that his life didn’t have to be lived either consciously on edge or blissfully unaware.
So, Pete had managed to convince Vegas to come with him. Sure, it had taken Pete sucking Vegas’ cock for nearly an hour that morning, a smirk on Vegas’ face as he demanded “blow me or I don’t go,” but Pete would have done that anyway—Vegas agreeing to go out with him was just a bonus.
How they had managed to start playing never have I ever was beyond Pete. This was a game Pete had played once in high school and once at a New Year’s party with the other bodyguards—this was certainly not the type of thing he had been expecting to happen when he had convinced Vegas that they were just going to Yok’s, socializing a bit, and then going home, where Pete had promised Vegas that he could do anything he wanted to him. “Anything?” Vegas had smirked earlier that morning after he had jerked Pete off in less than a minute with his gorgeously soft hands (which Pete had always wondered—how did Vegas manage to have such soft hands?) and Pete, jaw sore, lay sprawled across Vegas’ outstretched legs, a blissful fog over his mind.
“Anything, Vegas,” Pete had responded hoarsely before he had fallen back asleep, seeing Vegas grinning contemplatively. Oh, Pete knew he had something good coming for when they got back home, and as much as he was enjoying seeing his friends, he was also itching to get back home so he could see what Vegas had in store for him.
Somehow, though, Vegas and Pete had gotten stuck in the middle of the booth, with Tankhun, Arm, and Pol squished up on Pete’s side, and Vegas constantly pushing away Time, Tay, and Tem, sneering angrily at them (and Pete couldn’t even blame him—what did those three have going on?). So, they were stuck playing until everyone got drunk enough that they could push their way out and make their way to the exit. For now, Pete settled for pressing himself as close to Vegas as he could, keeping his hand resting possessively on Vegas’ thigh, Vegas’ hand still scratching the back of Pete’s head mindlessly.
It was obvious that Kinn had never played “never have I ever” before, because every time it was his turn to think of something he hadn’t done before, he would look helplessly at Porsche who would roll his eyes fondly and whisper something in his ear for Kinn to blurt out. This round was no different—after the whole routine, Kinn smiled at Porsche and proclaimed: “never have I ever been tied up during sex!”
Pete suspected one of the only reasons that Vegas hadn’t caused a scene about playing this whole game yet was because, unsurprisingly, every remark any of the guys made had to do with sex. Not only was this great blackmail material for the increasingly drunk crowd (Pete and Vegas the exception, Pete having wholeheartedly agreed with Vegas in the car before they arrived that they were definitely not getting drunk, not around this rowdy crowd, and not so that they couldn’t have their fun when they got home), but Pete knew that Vegas felt a sense of pride at how many sips Pete had had to take of his drink that night. Pete rolled his eyes every time there was a call-out like this by one of the guys around the table—he had been slightly embarrassed at first, flushing when he had to take drinks after Time had said “never have I ever been rimmed” and Arm, with a knowing glance at Pete, remarked “never have I ever liked to be spanked during sex,” but now it was just getting old.
Vegas reached his glass forward to clink with Pete’s as the two of them both took sips, along with Tay and, sheepishly, Pol. “Shit, Vegas, I’m surprised at you,” Kinn exclaimed.
Pete swiveled his head slightly to look at Vegas’ grin. “Oh, what, cousin, never tried being tied up? Letting your partner be fully in control,” at this, Vegas gripped the back of Pete’s hair tightly and Pete had to actively hold back a moan, “is truly a wonderful experience.”
Tankhun retched again. “I think he might actually vomit this time,” Arm said, concerned.
Vegas returned to scratching the back of Pete’s head and neck and Pete trailed the fingers of the hand resting on Vegas’ thigh back and forth, slightly higher every time. Though this was almost absentminded, Pete could feel Vegas’ breath hitch slightly and it made him, as always, feel powerful when he could make his boyfriend react like that to his touch.
“Okay, okay, my turn,” Pol raised his glass in the air, alcohol sloshing a bit over the sides, wetting his hair, at which Arm giggled. “Never have I ever… ooh, had sex in public!”
All eyes turned to Vegas and Pete after Kinn, Porsche, Time, Tay, and Tem took drinks, and Vegas scoffed, “all of the things I like to use during sex live at home, thank you very much.”
Arm, Pol, and Porsche glared daggers at Pete. Pete’s hand stopped moving on Vegas’ thigh and Pete could feel Vegas turn his head to look at him as, hand shaking slightly, Pete quickly took a sip of his drink, setting it down on the table in front of him as if it burned his hand afterwards. Fuck, Pol knew what he was doing with that one. This was why Pete didn’t get drunk with his friends anymore—he had a big mouth when he was drunk. That New Year’s party… Pete couldn’t even fully remember the things he had revealed to his friends that night and he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
Vegas’ hand stopped scratching and instead moved to grip at the back of Pete’s neck. Pete was glad that it was decently dark in the bar or everyone at the booth would have been able to see how tightly Vegas was gripping him, fingernails digging into the skin, Vegas’ soft hand from earlier that morning replaced with strength that Pete knew all too well.
“Oh, hoh, hoh! Now this is interesting!” Tankhun exclaimed, delighted. “So, Pete has had sex in public… but my dear cousin hasn’t! Then this means…” Tankhun trailed off and Pete felt one fingernail digging into the back of his neck so hard that Vegas broke skin, Pete forcing himself for the second time that night to stifle a moan, though this time, he was close enough to letting it out that he had to disguise the moan as a cough. Pete felt Vegas’ hand flex on the back of his neck and could tell that Vegas knew and was pleased that he had almost drawn a moan out of Pete around all of these people.
“So, Pete, when did you have sex in public?” Porsche asked casually, swirling his drink before taking a sip, leaning back into the booth and crossing his arms, eyebrows raised playfully. If Pete had the option, he might have reached across the table and strangled Porsche but that would have created more chaos than he could handle.
“I-I don’t know if that… if that’s something…” Pete stammered.
“No, Pete, when did you have sex in public?” Vegas asked quietly and Pete froze, goosebumps racing across his entire body. Porsche provoking Vegas’ jealousy like this was downright evil when Porsche knew about Vegas’ jealous streak after the incident at the “water bottle launch event” that had nearly bankrupted Pete with all the gratitude gifts he sent to Porsche. Well, no gratitude gifts were to be had this time. In fact, Pete was already thinking about how he could realistically send Porsche a series of heavy punches in the mail when Vegas interrupted his thoughts with a growled, “And with who?”
Vegas’ jealous streak was, possibly, one of Pete’s favorite things about him, like when it was due to innocent things, things Pete had no control over. Like, when a guy would flirt with Pete when they were checking out at the supermarket and Vegas would wrap a hand possessively around Pete’s waist, or when Pete would spend one too many hours helping Macau with his homework in a day and Vegas would slam him roughly into their bedroom door the second Macau had finished. Oh, Pete dreamt about those moments.
But sometimes, Vegas’ jealousy could make him turn red hot, like now. Like, when Pete had offhandedly mentioned once how he used to buy a different brand of condoms than the kind he and Vegas occasionally used, or when Porsche had described how he and Pete had almost kissed a few too many times, had laid in bed with their arms and legs tangled after a drunken night. Pete had thoroughly enjoyed how roughly Vegas had fucked him after those instances, but although Vegas’ reactions turned him on and made him feel excited, desired, wanted, he worried about what others would think about Vegas’ possessiveness.
Pete cleared his throat, knowing that nine pairs of eyes were staring expectantly at him, but only actively feeling the one pair that mattered. “Uh, it was, oh man, I don’t know, like, probably five years ago? It was, um, just this girl who I had been sort of seeing at the time, I mean, you know how it is, just seeing her occasionally, mostly just, uh, hooking up,” Pete mentally slapped his hand across his mouth, but for some reason, his hand didn’t cooperate in reality and Pete’s mouth kept moving, “and, um, yeah, we, I guess, we had sex outside once, like, at a park, in the grass, it was so meh! You know! Like, definitely not something I wanted to do with her again, I stopped seeing her really soon after that, but yeah, um, yeah. So.” Pete took in a deep, shuddering breath after he finally managed to cut off his rambling and looked around the table, eight of the other nine guys staring at him with a mixture of shock, amusement, and empathy, their eyes flicking back and forth between Pete and Vegas.
Pete couldn’t even turn his head to look at Vegas—he wasn’t scared of Vegas’ reaction; he was scared that he was going to immediately get hard in front of his friends, and he was pretty sure that was the last thing that he needed.
“Mm,” Vegas finally hummed before resuming his light scratching on the back of Pete’s neck, though it stung this time as his nails slid across the places where he had drawn blood. Pete gripped Vegas’ thigh tightly and felt Vegas’ muscles contract in reaction to his touch. Pete breathed shakily—he knew that if he even dared to look at Vegas, neither of them would be able to hold themselves back and then Vegas would be able to take a drink along with Pete in response to Pol’s statement.
The others all laughed lightly or breathed a sigh of relief before they turned back to the game, Tem trying desperately to actually move every inquiry away from sex, by saying “never have I ever been to Japan!” causing eyerolls from almost everyone at the table.
There was a heavy rushing in Pete’s ears, and he could barely hear what the others around the table were saying as he scooted minutely closer to Vegas, trying to get as close as possible to him, so that he didn’t have any feasible way to look Vegas in the eyes. Pete knew the exact expression that Vegas would have on—schooled to everyone else, calm, as if nothing was amiss. Pete was the only one, and they both knew it, who could read what was beneath that expression, whether it was bitterness, desperation, playfulness, or—as Pete knew it would be tonight—lust.
The game continued for ten more minutes and even when there were statements that Pete knew he and Vegas should have drunk in response to, neither of them did, and nobody around the table forced it. It seemed that everyone’s creativity was running dry the more they drank and there were quite a few guys who were teetering on just the edge of too giggly that Pete knew they were truly drunk.
“I need to go to the bathroom!” Tankhun finally proclaimed and shooed Arm and Pol out of his way to exit the booth, all three of them stumbling towards the bathroom at the back of the bar, laughing loudly at some joke Tankhun had just made at Pol’s expense.
Pete, seizing the opportunity, extracted himself from Vegas quickly and scooted out of the booth, feeling the bouncing of the vinyl as Vegas moved along with him. “I think we’re probably going to head out!” Pete exclaimed, probably too eagerly, but he was well past caring, as Pete felt Vegas’ hand sneak around to grip firmly at his waist as he came to stand beside him.
Porsche wiggled his eyebrows at Pete and Pete rolled his eyes. “Okay, have fun, you two! I’d say don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, but…”
“They already do that,” Time blurted from across the booth and Pete felt Vegas’ hand tighten around his waist in response.
“Okay, we’re going!” Pete said forcefully as he led Vegas towards the bar’s exit. However, before Pete could make it to the front door, he felt Vegas’ hand leave his waist and move to intertwine their fingers, Pete’s shoulder nearly pulled out of its socket as Vegas veered towards the door that led to the alleyway instead of the exit.
Pete could tell immediately what Vegas’ plan was—he knew that this was Porsche’s old hookup spot, where he had hooked up with girls before meeting Kinn (and even once tried to after meeting Kinn)—and he felt blood rush instantly to his cock as Vegas slammed him against the wall of the alley, not at all far from the door through which they had exited.
Pete knew that Porsche had punched Vegas twice here—he also knew that this was where Porsche had told Vegas that he would give him five million baht, all just for a chance to see Pete again. Pete thought about the moment he had seen Vegas again after escaping from the safehouse, about the feelings swelling in his chest and stomach when he had seen him then, about how this was the very place where he accepted that he had feelings for Vegas, feelings that, at the time, he wanted to rip his own heart out to get rid of. Now, he would rip out someone else’s heart—and he had—for Vegas.
Tonight, the love of his life was pressing the full weight of his body against Pete and glaring into his eyes, the expression that Pete knew would be there filling every inch of Vegas’ face. Blown-out lust and possessiveness schooled into Vegas’ gorgeous features combined to cause Pete to let out an involuntary moan. “Was she good?” Vegas growled.
Pete shook his head. “Baby, no, nobody has ever been good, not like you, you know that.” Pete didn’t care how cliché it was, and neither did Vegas—they both knew that Vegas was the best Pete had ever had, and Pete was the best Vegas had ever had. Ever would have. It still surprised Pete sometimes—he and Vegas had been together, officially actually together, post-hospital, for almost nine months, and every time they kissed, touched, fucked, it sent thrills through Pete’s body. He knew he had the same effect on Vegas. Pete could easily imagine life like this forever.
“I’m going to make you forget about her, about everyone else who has ever touched you,” Vegas whispered in Pete’s ear, digging his fingers harshly into Pete’s waist. Pete grasped at Vegas’ shoulders, a low moan escaping his lax mouth.
“You know I never think about anybody else, Vegas, you’re it for me, you’re always it for me,” Pete gasped as Vegas tugged on the silver hoop in Pete’s left ear lightly with his teeth. “You’ve been it for me since the moment I saw you back here,” Pete added softly, hands tightening on Vegas’ shoulders, knowing that Vegas would know exactly what he meant. Pete felt Vegas inhale sharply and he leaned back to look Pete in the eyes.
“That night, I…” Vegas swallowed. “I wanted to say so much more, I had so many things to say to you, all before that fucking worker…”
“I know, I know,” Pete cupped Vegas’ face with one hand gently. “I knew then, I know now. You didn’t even have to say it.”
“I’m sorry,” Vegas breathed. “Always.”
Pete leaned in to rest their foreheads together. “You don’t have to be sorry. Not anymore.”
“I love you,” Vegas added. “Always.”
Pete leaned in again and kissed Vegas softly. “That’s all you ever have to say.”
Vegas captured Pete’s lips again, Pete melting against him. Every time Vegas pulled back for a moment, he whispered, “I love you,” bringing Pete half to tears.
Pete pulled away completely and Vegas frowned. Pete took Vegas’ face in both hands. “I love you. That night, that’s when I realized. I love you. I knew I’d choose you. And now I get to do it every day.” Pete ran his thumbs over Vegas’ gorgeous, sculpted, sexy cheekbones. “Now, please, Vegas, make me forget all about that girl.”
“The only word you’re going to remember is my name,” Vegas growled, back to his lustful look, as he pulled Pete’s hips into his own and attacked Pete’s lips again, teeth biting at Pete’s bottom lip until Pete nearly yelled at the roughness, his cock growing harder with each second.
Vegas tangled their tongues together, Pete looping his arms around Vegas’ neck, trying to draw Vegas closer. Pete couldn’t handle even one centimeter of space between them—he needed every part of him to be touching every part of Vegas.
Vegas moved his hands from Pete’s hips to his ass, pushing Pete impossibly nearer to Vegas, Pete gasping against Vegas’ lips at their erections pressed against each other. The sensation of Vegas’ hardness pressing into his own would never cease to be the best feeling in the world to Pete. “Fuck, you’re so hard already,” Vegas groaned, gripping Pete’s ass with all of his strength. Pete knew he would have bruises there tomorrow and he already envisioned himself turning this way and that way in the bathroom, trying to get a glimpse of them in the mirror and he shuddered at the thought.
“I’ve been half hard since you dug your nails into my neck and made me bleed,” Pete confessed against Vegas’ mouth reverently.
“Fuck,” Vegas said emphatically as he slipped his hands underneath the waistband of Pete’s pants and underwear and began massaging his bare ass, his hands pressed tightly to Pete with the fabric still clinging to Pete’s body.
“Vegas,” Pete moaned, throwing his head back against the wall, giving Vegas ample neck space to lean forward and suck at his neck, marking Pete again and again, leaving bruises on his neck, his ass, decorating every centimeter of his body.
Without looking, Pete maneuvered his hands to the front of Vegas’ shirt and began undoing the few buttons that were still holding Vegas’ silky shirt together. Vegas had worn a dark blue one tonight to match Pete’s own blue top and Pete had to hold himself back from ripping the buttons right off of the shirt—he liked it way too much to ruin it.
Pete tugged the shirt out of Vegas’ pants once he had finished unbuttoning it all the way and moved to work on unbuttoning his own shirt, not wanting Vegas to stop groping at his ass until he absolutely had to. Pete made quick work of it while Vegas was distracted sucking another mark into his neck, or he knew that Vegas would have pulled away and undone Pete’s shirt on his own—Vegas seriously had a thing for taking Pete’s clothes off himself.
Vegas pulled away from Pete’s neck and grinned wickedly, hands still groping wildly at Pete’s ass, as he bent his neck and began sucking at Pete’s nipples, first one, then the other, then back again. Pete moaned without abandon, hands flying to Vegas’ hair and pulling—he no longer cared if anyone heard them, the alcohol that he had had tonight flowing through his system just enough to loosen him up to the point where Vegas was the only thing on his mind.
Vegas rested his forehead on Pete’s chest, taking gulping breaths after minutes of laving away at Pete’s chest before he pulled back and looked up at Pete through his eyelashes and, cocky grin on his face, blew cool air gently onto Pete’s hardened, pulsing nipples. “Vegas, fuck,” Pete groaned, squirming at the sensation, shivers cascading over his chest and down his legs.
Vegas cocked his head slightly as he straightened up, looking Pete in the eyes, a fiery lust burning through them, as he asked, “do you know how sexy you are?”
“Fuck,” Pete moaned as he pulled Vegas towards him, their lips colliding, tongues twisting, teeth biting. Pete sucked hard on Vegas’ lower lip, making Vegas moan. Pete whined as Vegas finally pulled his hands out of Pete’s pants to slide his shirt off of his shoulders before pushing at Pete’s shirt, Pete letting it fall to the ground easily (though he did make a mental note to make sure to wash their clothes twice later—who knew what kind of filth was out here behind the bar?).
Vegas pulled away from Pete’s lips and Pete found himself frowning without meaning to. Vegas grinned, pulling a small sachet of lube from his back pocket before he began undoing his belt, pushing his pants down and off, stepping out of his shoes (oh, they were going to take several showers tonight after this, Pete made another mental note) and reaching out to rid Pete of his remaining clothes. Of course, Pete knew that normally fucking in public meant a quickie—it meant clothes were only coming partially off, it meant trying to conceal yourself and your partner from any potential wandering eyes. Of course, too, Pete knew that that was the last thing Vegas would want—Vegas needed their naked bodies pressed against each other as badly as Pete needed it and they were both past the point of caring who might see them.
“I can’t believe that you have lube with you when we’ve never even fucked in public before,” Pete laughed breathlessly as Vegas finally released Pete’s aching cock from the confines of his tight pants. Vegas squatted, pushing Pete’s pants and underwear the rest of the way off of him, never breaking eye contact with Pete. As Pete stepped out of his clothes, Vegas licked Pete’s cock from base to tip before standing back up, pre-come shining on his lower lip. Pete reached for Vegas, licking the stickiness off of Vegas’ mouth and swallowing it with a grin.
“Baby, I always come prepared, I had a feeling this would happen eventually,” Vegas grinned as he dove towards Pete’s mouth with his teeth, biting Pete’s lips relentlessly.
Pete pulled back. “Even though you said that all of the things you like to use during sex live at home?” Pete teased, cocking one eyebrow, sticking his tongue partway out of his mouth.
Vegas laughed. “The thing that I like to use during sex is you,” Vegas murmured as he leaned in to suck on Pete’s tongue, Pete’s mouth hanging open wantonly, breathy moans escaping his lips at the sensation.
Pete scratched his nails down Vegas’ back, pulling him closer so that their erections could rub against each other. Vegas pulled away from Pete’s mouth, both of their moans joining together to create a glorious harmony. The dry sensation was uncomfortable and after only a moment, Vegas ripped open the packet of lube and drizzled half of it into his hand, throwing the rest of the packet on top of his pants. Pete prayed that it wouldn’t leak out of the open packet—he and Vegas both liked to use spit a lot when they fucked, but it was always easier with lube, and especially would be while they were in public.
Vegas slicked his cock up with lube before reaching out to do the same to Pete’s cock and Pete moaned loudly at Vegas’ hand jerking him off at a rapid pace. “Vegas,” Pete moaned Vegas’ name over and over, until he couldn’t form words anymore when Vegas took both their cocks together in one hand, fisting them both.
“Pete, oh fuck, Pete,” Vegas moaned, right hand grabbing at the back of Pete’s neck, their foreheads resting against each other, as both Pete and Vegas watched Vegas’ hand moving rapidly on their erections.
Eventually, Pete couldn’t take it anymore and he reached his hand down in between them as well, his hand overlapping Vegas’ on their cocks, as they jerked themselves off together. “Vegas, it’s never been like this, you know it’s never been like this, you make me feel so good every time, fuck, how do you do it,” Pete gasped, edging closer and closer to orgasm with every stroke of their tangled hands.
“You, you, you’re how I do it,” Vegas admitted breathlessly, eyes glazed over with lust. Pete grinned. “I do it because of you, I do it for you, fuck, Pete, everything is for you.”
“I know,” Pete breathed, before he yanked his hand away and pushed Vegas’ hand off their cocks, pushing Vegas back slightly. Vegas looked unbelievably angry.
“What the fuck, Pete?” Vegas growled.
Pete swallowed. “I was so close to coming, Vegas, I had to stop, I… I was too close,” he admitted, trying to breathe before he came even without being touched.
Vegas wrapped a tight hand around Pete’s throat and Pete groaned. “You tell me if you’re close,” he demanded, and Pete nodded, his airway constricting, the lack of air making him feel heady and pleasurable.
Vegas withdrew almost as soon as he began and Pete whined, both of his hands reaching down for Vegas to bring Vegas’ hand back to his throat. Vegas smirked. “Oh, baby, you’re so good for me.” Vegas took back his hand again and Pete had to physically hold himself back from angrily stomping his feet like a child. Vegas reached down to grab the packet of lube and Pete was relieved to see that it hadn’t spilled out.
Pete turned around to face the wall without instruction from Vegas and Vegas slapped his ass roughly. Pete moaned. “You wait to do something until I give you instructions.” Vegas commanded. He slapped Pete’s other cheek, the stinging sensation causing Pete to want to rut into the wall, but he held himself back because fuck only knew what that wall had seen.
Pete heard Vegas squeeze the rest of the lube out of the packet and gasped softly as Vegas spread his ass apart with one hand, the other hand spreading lube generously on the outside of his rim before Vegas inserted one finger into him, down to the base, causing Pete to let out what was just on the verge of a shout. Pete threw his head back on Vegas’ shoulder. “Vegas, oh my god,” he groaned.
Vegas kissed Pete’s neck as he fucked one finger in and out of Pete at a rapid pace, already finding and rubbing against Pete’s prostate with every thrust. “Are you trying to kill me?” Pete accused as Vegas rubbed his prostate again.
“Not until after I’ve fucked you, at least,” Vegas teased, adding another finger so that two fingers were now stretching Pete, preparing him for Vegas. It was rare that Pete wasn’t at least a bit prepared for Vegas to be inside him, but Vegas finger fucking him never ceased to cause Pete to teeter on the edge of orgasm regardless of how prepared he was.
Pete could tell that Vegas was making to withdraw his fingers from Pete and Pete clamped down on them quickly. Vegas bit into his neck. “I need another one,” Pete begged. “Please, another one, please, Vegas.”
Pete felt Vegas grin against his neck. “Only because you asked so nicely,” Vegas conceded and withdrew the two fingers currently inside of Pete until only the tips of them were still inside, before adding a third finger and slamming them all back inside Pete at once.
“Fuck!” Pete finally, loudly screamed. He hoped, prayed, crossed his fingers that his friends had already gone home, because he knew that neither he nor Vegas would stop what they were doing, no matter who walked into that alleyway. He also was so far into sex that he thought he might even like it.
Vegas continued to kiss at Pete’s neck and thrust his fingers rapidly in and out of Pete. Pete continued to clutch at the wall in front of him, willing away any orgasm because he was not going to come before Vegas had fucked him, no fucking way.
Finally, Vegas moved to pull his fingers out and Pete unclenched his hole enough for Vegas to remove them and, with his other hand, spread the remaining bit of lube all over his cock, the tip at Pete’s entrance within ten seconds of Vegas pulling his fingers out of Pete.
One of Pete’s hands flew behind him to clutch at Vegas’ hair, needing something to anchor himself as Vegas pushed inside of him, both Pete and Vegas holding their breath until Vegas had bottomed out inside Pete. Pete let out a shaky breath and smiled at Vegas doing the same. Vegas slowly started to thrust in and out of Pete, not pulling the whole way out, just rocking inside of him, letting Pete adjust to his size (and seriously, Pete knew he was lucky to have Vegas for so many reasons, but the size of his cock was, like, top five). “You’re so tight,” Vegas praised Pete and even though Vegas said the same thing to Pete every time, it never stopped making Pete feel incredibly turned on, knowing how much Vegas liked being inside of him, how good he could make Vegas feel.
Pete clenched down on Vegas’ cock and Vegas’ hips stuttered for a moment, bringing a grin to Pete’s face as he turned his head on Vegas’ shoulder to look at him and raise his eyebrows. Vegas groaned as he captured Pete’s lips, kissing him again and again as he continued to fuck him.
Suddenly, the music was louder, and Pete pulled away from Vegas’ mouth to look toward the source of the increased noise, dropping the hand that had still been gripping at Vegas so that he could see more clearly. Arm and Pol had stumbled out into the alley and were laughing, seemingly not having noticed Vegas and Pete yet. Pete felt Vegas turning his head the same direction, following Pete’s gaze, and Vegas gave Pete a particularly hard thrust, sliding one hand down Pete’s chest to wrap loosely around Pete’s aching cock.
Pete let out a loud moan without meaning to and clapped his hand over his mouth. Sure, he could tell himself all he wanted that he didn’t care who heard him and Vegas having sex, but when those people were right there? Vegas kept thrusting into Pete at the same pace and reached up to tear Pete’s hand away from his mouth, Pete continuing to let out moan after moan, unable to hold himself back, Vegas just felt so good inside him.
Pete watched as Arm and Pol’s attention snapped to him and Vegas. Pete could only imagine what they were seeing in the illumination from the bar lights—Vegas thrusting harshly into Pete, one hand wrapped around Pete’s cock, Pete’s head lolled back on Vegas’ shoulder, the both of them staring at Arm and Pol. Pete knew that Vegas was wearing a positively evil grin—he didn’t even have to look.
Arm and Pol stared at the couple, frozen in place, but Vegas did not stop fucking Pete for even one second—it was like he was built for this. Finally, Vegas thrust directly into Pete’s prostate and Pete moaned “Vegas” like his life depended on it (which, at that moment, it felt like it probably did), and Arm and Pol seemed to be shaken from their stupor.
“Shit, sorry! Sorry, fuck, fuck, sorry!” Pete’s friends nearly tripped over each other on their way back into the bar, the door slamming shut behind them as Vegas slammed into Pete again before pulling all the way out.
Pete groaned in frustration. “Vegas, fuck, why did you do that?”
Vegas turned Pete back towards him and pushed him roughly into the wall. Vegas grabbed Pete’s face with both hands and kissed him, again and again, his tongue sending a rush of blood to Pete’s cock, causing it to somehow, impossibly, harden even further. “That was so fucking hot, Pete,” Vegas finally admitted after a few breathless minutes of kissing.
Pete grinned. “Oh, so you like fucking me in public, huh?”
“Yes, and I liked seeing other people watch me fuck you. You’re mine,” Vegas growled.
Fuck, maybe Pete had liked other people seeing Vegas fuck him—even if they were his friends, embarrassment be damned.
“I’m yours, fuck, Vegas, you know I’m yours,” Pete yanked Vegas close again, kissing him like he never wanted to do anything else. Well—except his cock did want Vegas to do something else. Namely, get back to what they had been doing. Pete pulled away only a moment later. “Will you please fuck me again?”
Vegas grinned and lifted Pete’s right leg to wrap around his hip. Pete took the hint and, letting Vegas and the wall at his back hold him up, wrapped his left leg around Vegas’ hip as well. Pete had muscle, for sure, but Vegas was strong, he had core strength that even Pete, the ex-head bodyguard of the main fucking family, was lacking, and Pete knew from experience that Vegas could easily hold Pete up while he fucked him.
Vegas lined himself up again and, hands on Pete’s hips, slammed into Pete with full force. “Vegas, fuck me,” Pete whined as Vegas began thrusting at a rapid pace, both of them teetering on the edge but neither wanting the sex to end.
Vegas tucked his face into Pete’s neck and sucked lightly on one spot, where Pete knew he was going to have an extra dark bruise come morning. Eventually, Pete got tired of not being able to see Vegas and he lifted Vegas’ face up so he could see the lustful, wanting look on Vegas’ face that he could never, would never, get tired of. “Vegas, fuck, you’re so hot,” Pete breathed, bringing Vegas’ face forward to kiss him, their kiss really a tangle of tongues and breathy moans into each other’s mouths.
“You’re so good for me, Pete, you’re so good, you’re so sexy,” Vegas said for the second time that evening and Pete grinned.
Vegas continued to thrust into Pete at a steady, fast pace, enough to keep them both on edge, but not enough to send them over. “No fucking way,” Pete breathed into Vegas’ mouth as the music, once again, got louder and Pete reluctantly pulled away to take in their newest intruders.
Porsche, Tay, and Tem had all stepped out, cigarettes dangling from their fingers, the lighter being passed around between them as each of them lit up. “Fuck,” Pete shouted involuntarily at a particularly deep thrust, his moans returning to him as Vegas picked up the pace, seemingly capable of entering Pete faster and deeper now that he was less distracted by Pete’s tongue.
Pete watched, on the verge of amused, as the trio slowly turned towards Vegas and Pete and Pete let his tongue roll of out of his mouth playfully as his boyfriend continued to fuck him into the wall. Pete’s back was going to be torn up after they were finished—Pete couldn’t wait to feel the pain over the next few days and he also couldn’t wait to get home so that Vegas could take care of him, carefully apply ointment and run soothing warm water over the scrapes.
Vegas finally turned his head towards the trio and rolled his eyes. Pete wrapped his arms around Vegas’ neck and hugged him closer, causing Vegas to thrust impossibly deeper. Pete moaned, still staring at his friends, who each took a long drag of their cigarette, staring right back at Vegas and Pete, before throwing them on the floor and stomping them out.
Tay and Tem entered the bar first, Porsche behind them, and Porsche turned back to look at Vegas and Pete one more time, shaking his head. “Maybe one day you’ll find a kink you don’t like,” Porsche let his voice carry.
“Maybe,” Pete agreed breathlessly. “But probably n—Vegas,” Pete’s reply was cut off with a moan as Vegas thrust into him brutally, one hand leaving Pete’s hip momentarily to roughly turn Pete’s chin towards him.
“Don’t speak to him. You’re mine.” Pete nodded and heard the music returning to its low thumping, meaning the door was closed.
“Yours,” Pete agreed, nodding.
Vegas moved to kiss Pete again and returned his hand to Pete’s hips, shuffling closer to Pete so that he could fuck him more vigorously.
Pete broke away from the kiss, moaning, begging, “please, please Vegas, can I touch myself, please I’m so close, please,” before Vegas nodded wordlessly, low groans spilling out of Vegas’ mouth without stopping now.
Pete reached a hand in between them and grasped his cock, stroking it in time with Vegas’ thrusts. “I’m close, Pete, I’m so close,” Vegas gasped.
“Baby, fuck, I’m so close, you’re fucking me so good, please don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Pete begged.
“You’re so good, you’re so tight, Pete, fuck, this is everything, you’re everything, you’re so gorgeous, you’re so sexy, you’re mine, Pete, Pete, fuck, Pete,” Vegas’ usual rambling took over and Pete felt Vegas empty himself inside of Pete, Pete moaning loudly at the sensation of being filled so completely.
Vegas continued thrusting as Pete stroked himself, on the brink of orgasm, even when Pete knew that Vegas would be feeling oversensitive. “Oh, Vegas, fuck me, Vegas, please, please fuck me, I’m coming,” Pete let himself shout his release as he came all over his stomach and Vegas’ chest. Vegas finally slowed down his thrusts, thrusting slowly and without much force, before he finally pulled out and let Pete down on shaky legs, Pete’s hips aching from the position he had held around Vegas’ waist.
Pete absentmindedly brought his hand up to his mouth and licked the come off of it, which caused a glint to come to Vegas’ eyes when Pete finally realized what he was doing. Vegas reached down to wipe Pete’s come off of his chest with one hand and gathered what remained on Pete’s stomach as well, sucking Pete’s come off of his fingers. Pete was absolutely spent, but he still felt his cock twitch with a good faith effort trying to getting hard at the sight.
“Well, you’ve certainly fucked me in public,” Pete leaned back against the wall, the scrapes forming on his back causing him to hiss. Vegas frowned and pulled Pete off of the wall, turning him around so he could examine his back.
“Shit,” Vegas shook his head. “We better get home. I don’t want these to get infected.”
Pete turned back around and leaned into Vegas, kissing him softly. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Vegas murmured against his lips, leaning down to grab his and Pete’s clothes off the floor, the couple pulling pants on and leaving shirts unbuttoned as they slipped into their shoes.
“Normally I don’t like ‘never have I ever,’ but maybe if it causes something like this to happen again… well, maybe I wouldn’t mind it,” Pete admitted, interlacing his fingers with Vegas as Vegas led him through the alleyway around to where his motorcycle was parked.
Vegas squeezed Pete’s hand tightly. “Abso-fucking-lutely not, Pete. You’re going to tell me tonight what all you have done with any other fucking people in the past so that I can do those things to you too and you can stop thinking about them ever.”
Pete rolled his eyes as he climbed onto the motorcycle behind Vegas, snapping his helmet on and wrapping his arms tightly around Vegas’ waist. “I don’t ever think about anybody but you, baby.”
Vegas revved his motorcycle. “Good,” he said as he sped out of the parking lot and towards the highway, Pete already envisioning the aftercare he’d get and what that might lead to later that night.
--
Porsche flopped down in the booth next to Kinn. He looked across the table at Arm and Pol, who were both comforting and being comforted by Tankhun, somehow at the same time. “What’s going on with them?” Porsche jutted his chin towards the group.
“Awful, really, they, uh… well, they saw Vegas” Kinn lowered his voice “fucking Pete.”
Porsche laughed. “Oh, so did Tay and Tem and I.”
“What?!” Tankhun’s head snapped towards Porsche’s voice. “They were still… they were still doing it?” Tankhun asked scandalously.
Porsche nodded vigorously. “They were doing it, alright, I mean, fuck, I knew they were into kinky shit but the way they were looking at us? They downright liked being watched.” Kinn looked incredulously over to Tay and Tem, who were both snuggled into Time. Both nodded in agreement.
“Corrupted! My poor baby Pete has been corrupted by our devil cousin! Kinn, what are you going to do about this?” Tankhun wailed.
“I’m going to take my ass and Porsche’s ass home and not think about our cousin fucking his boyfriend, that’s what I’m going to do,” Kinn stood up and offered Porsche his hand, which Porsche took easily. “Can you handle him, Arm? Pol?”
Arm and Pol, still in shock, nodded at their boss’ request, and Kinn turned around, leading Porsche out of the bar. “Do you think you would like being watched?” Porsche asked Kinn experimentally as they climbed into the backseat of the car.
Kinn rolled his eyes. “Do not let Pete and Vegas get into your head, Porsche. I was humiliated having to drink tonight about the fact that we’ve had sex in a pool before.”
Porsche rolled his eyes. “You’re no fun!”
“Yeah, well, you love me anyway.” Kinn reached out a hand to settle on Porsche’s thigh and Porsche smiled, leaning back into the seat and hoping that maybe he and Kinn could go for round two in the pool when they got home.