tyrant

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39804945.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: |
KinnPorsche: The Series (TV)
Relationship: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham/Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun
Character: Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham, Vegas Kornwit Theerapanyakun
Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon
Divergence, Shift in Power, Verbal Humiliation, Dom/sub, Aftercare, Mild
Breathplay, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Spit As Lube, Not Canon
Compliant, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Riding, Pete is kinda cruel in this but
Vegas deserves it, I only wanted to make Vegas cry, Spoiler alert: Kan
is dead, POV Alternating, Angst and Porn, Topping from the Bottom
Stats: Published: 2022-06-22 Words: 8292

tyrant
by foreigncars (lunarsoo)

Summary

"In all honesty, Vegas thinks power looks good on Pete, and he doesn’t mind sharing it
with him."

Or: After Vegas's father dies, Vegas is a mess and Pete has to take control.

Notes

before you read, yes i'm well aware sex isn't therapy but this is vegaspete and well, let's just
say, one day I will write something that's not fucked up featuring these two, but today is not
that day.

also, beware there's a tiny mention of suicide and certain descriptions of Vegas's state of
mind which might be disturbing/triggering for some!

See the end of the work for more notes

It’s a slow afternoon at the minor family’s compound. Pete chose not to accompany Vegas to his
meeting with the new supplier. He’d figured Vegas could handle this one.

After Kan died, Vegas seemed to lose most, if not all, of his confidence. Pete has to be patient and
help Vegas build it back up while also subtly but surely letting Vegas know he will need someone
to be his right arm if he wants to keep control of the second family.

And, of course, this someone happens to be Pete .

He is the obvious choice, anyway. Vegas adores him, ready to get on his knees and propose, to lay
the world on Pete’s feet if Pete asked for it.

Pete can’t say he was ever one to lust after power or money or glory, but he has to admit, they’re
pretty nice to have, especially when you’re in the mafia world.

When Pete accepted Vegas's offer and left the main family to serve the second family – or, to be
more accurate, to have the second family serve him –, he knew it’d be hard work. He’d observed
the difference between the two branches of the family for many years as he worked for Tankhun
under Khun Korn’s orders: whereas the first family worries about abiding by a set of rules, keeping
up appearances, and exerting power through diplomacy more often than through intimidation or
force; the second family seems to have thrown away any care for whatever doesn’t serve their
immediate purposes. The second family has no established power ranks among the people who
work for them, they all answered to Kan and now to Vegas (and, by extension, to Pete) with no
middle man or chain of hierarchy.

The second family is also incredibly disorganized. Pete has been working tirelessly on developing
yearly, monthly, and weekly budgets to raise their profit. He has hired new personnel: accountants,
lawyers, and even a secretary for Vegas. The first thing Pete did was to hire a head bodyguard to
see if some discipline could be taught among the men. Carrying guns and looking scary could only
get them so far.

Pete has been accompanying Vegas to meetings and trading deals and even checking out the
warehouses when necessary. But he has kept Vegas on a leash for too long. He can’t be Vegas's
puppy trainer forever, can't be his crutch for much longer if Vegas wants to look even remotely
capable of running this organization.

So Pete told Vegas he’d be going alone to make a deal with this new dealer who wanted to sell
them some expensive pieces of stolen art. Vegas had looked unsure, fear visible in his eyes as he
sat by the foot of the bed with his arms around Pete’s waist, red resting against Pete’s stomach.

Despite the satisfaction it gives Pete to see how badly Vegas needs him, he dislikes seeing how
Vegas has become a shadow of the man Pete learned to love. But Pete can fix him. If he didn’t
believe that, and if he didn’t genuinely love Vegas, Pete might have killed him and taken control of
the minor clan long ago. He had ample opportunity for it.

“You can do this Vegas, you’re ready. Trust me,” Pete had said while he caressed Vegas's cheek
softly.

Vegas had nodded resolutely but he still held onto Pete for minutes on end until it was time to
leave.

That was hours ago, in the dawning of the afternoon. Sunset is now fast approaching and Vegas
still hasn’t returned. Pete has been keeping busy working with Vegas's secretary, Sorn, on creating
a weapon inventory. Pete is still in disbelief that the compound doesn’t have proper weaponry or a
system in place to manage the weapons. Pete has already found so many inconsistencies in the data
he was handed, he wishes he had Arm to help him because he is starting to get a headache.

The telephone rings, making the side of his head throb painfully and Sorn hurries to answer it
before it rings a second time.

“Y-yes, Khun Vegas, he is here in the office with me… Yeah, I’ll ask him to meet you, sir.”

Pete sighs, rubbing his temple. Something must have happened. Vegas wouldn’t ask for Pete
immediately after he got home if things had gone smoothly.

“Tell him I’ll take a while. An hour or two maybe,” Pete tells Sorn before Vegas can end the call.

Sorn looks nervous before he relays the message almost word-for-word.

There’s apparently no answer from the other end of the line because Sorn winces before putting the
phone down.

Pete swallows a question he knows Sorn won’t be able to answer.

“Let’s keep going. I think we can finish this today,” Pete says as Sorn takes the chair next to him,
settling with a stack of papers on his lap.

“Yes, Khun Pete,” Sorn dutifully agrees.

//

Vegas is angry at himself.

He feels useless and worthless and like he can never go back to the way he was.

Vegas had been used to feeling unloved and unworthy before he met Pete. He’d been used to
feeling like a disappointment like he would never be good enough and it didn’t matter how hard he
tried. But that was also before Pete.

Pete changed his entire world with his presence, his words, his gestures, the way he treats Vegas.
He changed Vegas in ways he never expected to be changed. It was like Pete stuck his hand into
Vegas's very core and rearranged it, rewired him until he started to believe he could be a better
person than he ever dreamed of being. To believe he could love and be loved, to care and be cared
for – to believe that he could, for once, be good enough for someone.

And then Vegas's entire world was changed, turned upside-down once again. Vegas's father died in
such circumstances, and he saw himself alone, standing at the edge, ready to take the plunge and
end it all because what was the point? Even his younger brother would be better off without him.

But then Pete had been there and he pulled Vegas back from the abyss he was slowly sinking into.

As always, Pete. Steady and reliable and always there for Vegas.

Pete, the constant in Vegas's life like the ticking of his mama’s vintage clock in his father’s office
– now his office., like the sunrise and sunset every day, and like the pain in Vegas's chest
whenever he thought about losing Pete: growing, everlasting pain and fear of losing Pete. They’re
tethered together, Vegas knows this, logically. But he can’t help but be afraid one day Pete will
walk away.

Vegas would himself and Pete if it ever came to that.

It’d never happen.

He would never live in this world without Pete. And Pete knows that. He knows who Vegas is, and
yet, he chooses to stay, to drown in Vegas's shadows, to embrace it. They’re one now, two sides of
the same coin, two parts of a whole.

Then why isn’t Pete here when Vegas needs him?

Is Vegas being punished? Did he do something wrong? Is whatever Pete is doing more important
than coming to see Vegas?

Vegas fucked up. He knew he wasn’t ready but Pete made him go there alone and Vegas fucked it
all up like he knew he would.

He can’t do anything by himself because he is inept and hopeless. Ruined.

But Pete doesn’t know Vegas messed up, does he? There’s no way.

This is all so ironic, so pathetic, Vegas thinks as he curls up into a ball in their bed. He has bled all
his life, suffocating on his own blood as he cut open his own arteries over and over and betrayed,
deceived, lied, and manipulated people until he was nothing but a monster even in his own eyes;
merely the ghost of a person.

Then along came Pete and he somewhat stitched Vegas back together to the best of his ability, and
he did such a good job that Vegas thought he could find redemption and forgiveness within
himself.

Until everything came crashing down after his father’s death.

Because in the end, Vegas knows he is rotten to the core, even though all he has ever wanted was
all he could never have: a family, his father’s love and approval, a place in this world to call his
own, to feel like he belonged.

Pete has given him that, unquestionably. But Vegas still feels a hollow inside of him and it only
grows bigger when he can’t do his job as head of the minor family. It’s something so simple, he
has done it multiple times before. It shouldn’t be this fucking hard to make a deal with some stupid
art smuggler who was desperate to make some big bucks. But Vegas had failed, and in failing, he
disappointed Pete, himself, and the entire family.

In his mind, Vegas keeps seeing the faces of his men staring at Vegas slowly crumble in front of
them, hands shaking as he held his gun, pointing at the dealer, eyes unfocused and sweat gathering
in his temple and neck.

Vegas knew he shouldn’t shoot. That would create a whole mess that Pete would have to figure out
how to clean. This is all I’m good for now: creating messes , Vegas thinks with a bitter chuckle.

At least he has Pete. In all honesty, Vegas thinks power looks good on Pete, and he doesn’t mind
sharing it with him.

He barely hears the bedroom door opening and shutting, or the click of the lock, but he senses
Pete’s presence even before the bed dips under his weight and there is a hand on his shoulder,
heavy and familiar and soothing.

“What happened, baby?” Pete’s voice is gentle and it makes Vegas sick. He doesn’t deserve the
gentleness, the softness.
“What do you think?” Vegas knows he sounds like a petulant child and it's not like he can’t feel the
hot tears welling up in his eyes but it’s hard to bring himself to fight it.

“I take it that things didn’t go according to plan,” Pete offers kindly.

Vegas wishes Pete wouldn’t spare him right now. It might be too early to tell, but Vegas hopes
Pete understands, without him having to verbalize it, that what he needs from him is not empathy
or kindness – not yet, at least.

Pete starts to rub circles on Vegas's back, and Vegas can feel the warmth of his hand even through
the silky fabric of his shirt. He closes his eyes, a few prickly tears falling down his cheek, then he
buries his face in the pillow. This is Pete’s side of the bed, the pillow he uses, so it’s completely
permeated with his scent. Vegas inhales deeply, holding the air in his lungs, trying to keep Pete’s
scent there for as long as he can.

When he can’t hold his breath anymore, Vegas exhales slowly, noticing the shaky way the air
leaves his lungs through his mouth. His hands are trapped under him, crossed over his chest in an
uncomfortable position but he doesn’t care. Pete’s touch is distracting, it’s welcome, and even
though it’s not what Vegas needs now he basks in it.

Until he feels slender fingers wrapping around his neck from behind, a tentative thumb pressing
against his pulse point. Vegas's heart rate immediately picks up, but then he wills himself to relax,
slowly letting go of the tenseness in his muscles while Pete caresses up and down the sides of his
neck.

Vegas's entire body reacts in anticipation when Pete moves to straddle him. He expected
gentleness, expected to have to beg for Pete to give him his fix but he shouldn’t have doubted
Pete’s ability to know exactly what Vegas's needs are and meet them every single time.

“Color?” Pete asks, nails raking the nape of Vegas's neck, the touch a little rougher than anything
else Pete has done tonight.

“Green,” Vegas says, raising his head from the pillow just enough that he can be heard clearly.

Pete hums in acknowledgment, and shifts his weight a little on top of Vegas, his thighs flanking
Vegas's hips. Then Pete’s hand travels upwards until it’s buried in Vegas's hair, fingers tangled in
the strands and firmly gripping a fistful of his hair. Pete pulls Vegas's head back first, leaning
forward until his lips are brushing Vegas's ear.

When Pete speaks, his voice is a little deeper and breathier than his usual, “Do you want me to tell
you how fucking disappointed I am in you, don’t you? How ashamed I am of having such a
pathetic leader who can’t do his job properly. Isn’t that what you want?”

Vegas nods to the best of his ability with Pete holding his head back so tightly.

“Use your words, baby. Cat got your tongue?”

“Y-yes, Pete. That’s what I want,” Vegas answers, voice strained. His heart is thundering in his
chest and his entire body feels both numb and filled with electricity at the same time. He’s not
aroused yet but he knows it won’t be long until he is if Pete keeps this going. He is so, so good for
Vegas.

“Pete? You will call me master until I say you can say my name with that filthy mouth of yours,”
Pete says, voice a warning, then he yanks on Vegas's hair forcefully, baring Vegas's neck so he
can sink his teeth into the flesh.
Vegas lets out a strangled sound, a mix of a painful cry and a moan when Pete bites him hard –
once, twice, on the same spot, clearly intent on leaving a mark that’ll last for at least a couple of
weeks.

It stings, but it’s the kind of sting Vegas loves. He’s always been drawn to pain, even though he’s
often been the one inflicting it. With Pete, though, he has discovered a new side of himself: one
that enjoys being on the receiving end of pain, who revels in being punished and marked, who
finds pleasure in it.

“Say it,” Pete whispers against the tender flash he’s just abused, sending shivers down Vegas's
spine. In his pants, Vegas's dick stirs for the first time.

“Yes, master. ”

“Good boy. My pathetic, little Vegas. My pet. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? Obeying orders
from your master. Being an obedient pet who does as he is told,” Pete taunts before he leans back
and pushes Vegas's head against the pillow.

Vegas tries to huff out a breath but his face is pressed against the pillow and he can barely breathe
properly. Pete pushes his face down harder until Vegas can’t breathe at all and all he can do is stay
still, and wait for Pete to allow him some room to breathe again.

“You like this, don’t you? You think you deserve this punishment, for being so useless you can’t
even complete a simple task. You want me to do this to you so you don’t have to think about what
a disappointment you are to this family or how you will never be like Khun Kinn.”

The words cut Vegas deep, he can’t help but thrash around a bit, even though it’s half-hearted,
barely a struggle. Pete knows where to press, where to poke. He knows what will hurt Vegas more
than any physical pain, but he also knows the further he goes, the faster Vegas will heal.

The more often he confronts his demons, the closer he gets to conquering them.

So Vegas listens and he complies and he takes it, willingly, with a sick kind of pleasure. He is
lucky to have someone like Pete being the one to inflict this type of pain on him, out of love and
understanding, and not out of hatred or contempt. Like his father used to.

“You should’ve stopped comparing yourself to Khun Kinn long ago since you know you’ll never
be as good as him. Well, at least you’re a good fuck,” Pete keeps talking and he still hasn’t let
Vegas breathe. The lightheadedness makes everything around him feel like a distant dream,
including Pete’s voice, so the words don’t affect Vegas as much as they would and maybe that’s
the point.

“Are you hard?” Pete asks at the same time as he pulls Vegas's head back.

Vegas doesn’t answer, too focused on taking a breath, letting oxygen fill his lungs again, relief
washing over him. He didn’t expect Pete to actually suffocate him but there is always that tiny
spark of fear that he might. Which, honestly, Vegas doesn’t entirely hate.

“I asked you a question,” Pete says, fingers painfully digging into Vegas's scalp. Without waiting
for a reply, his other hand sneaks under Vegas's body and cups his crotch, feeling it up. “Oh, I
should’ve known, you little slut. You really get off on this. Guess I should humiliate you some
more, then.”

“Please, Pe--, No. Please, master.”

“Please what?”

Vegas bites his lower lip and attempts to turn his head slightly to look at Pete, but the latter still has
an iron grip on him.

“I need more,” Vegas says and he can’t see but he can picture the way Pete’s irises go dark, pupils
blown at the plea. Vegas knows Pete likes this as much as he does, that he revels in being able to
please Vegas, to fulfill Vegas's needs.

“I will be right back. Don’t move,” Pete says, voice stern. He lets go of Vegas's hair, who
welcomes the soreness of his scalp and neck, focusing on that while Pete climbs off the bed and
disappears through the door.

Pete comes back to the room to find Vegas half-naked on the bed. He should’ve expected Vegas to
not obey. Telling him not to move is the same as telling him to go ahead and do whatever he
pleases. He loves to act up just to see what Pete will do.

Tonight, Pete won’t give Vegas the satisfaction of a reaction. And Vegas will be grateful for it.

At least he had the decency to keep his underwear on, the swell of his cock distracting enough for
Pete to forget for a second that they’re in the middle of a scene. He catches himself just in time so
Vegas doesn’t see him slipping, assuming a nonchalant yet assertive stance again.

“Missed me?” Pete teases, getting on the bed once again.

He places the black, elegant box made of wood he was carrying on the bed next to him.

“I did, master” Vegas's eyes never stray from Pete, not even once.

Pete takes advantage of that and starts undoing the buttons on his black dress shirt; all but the last
one. Vegas's gaze follows his finger as they work their way down.

“It’s such a nuisance to have to keep our toy box locked in another room because you’re such an
insatiable slut who can’t behave,” Pete comments off-handedly.

Vegas seems to want to reply but bites down on his lip instead.

Pete isn’t entirely lying. He did lock the box of toys in a drawer in his office, but it was more out of
a sense of self-preservation. He knows it’s common knowledge among the people in the house that
he and Vegas aren’t exactly conventional lovers but Pete doesn’t trust their people yet and he
didn’t want anyone snooping around their things. Better to be on the safe side. Vegas had protested
when Pete got rid of the chains he had in their room and convinced Vegas to put away the ball gags
and collars he kept lying around like decoration.

“You want our people to respect and fear us. There’s a reputation we need to build and uphold.”

Vegas didn’t understand it at first but, slowly, as he noticed a slight change in the way the men
started to treat him, (there are fewer whispers in the hallway and considerably fewer cases of
misconduct) he relented.

“What’s your color?” Pete asks as he opens the box and starts rummaging through its contents to
try and find what he wants.

“Green,” Vegas sounds slightly annoyed so Pete gives him a hard stare.

“Don’t act bratty now,” Pete warns and watches, satisfied, as Vegas seems to shrink slightly, knees
drawn up as he curls on his side, watching Pete.

“Are you going to gag me?” Vegas sounds almost hopeful.

“Not tonight. I want to hear you,” Pete says.

Vegas makes a sound in the back of his throat, between a grunt and a whimper and Pete smirks.
Finally, he finds the two things he’s looking for: a small, bullet vibrator remote-controlled and a
silicone cockring. He eyes the transparent glass dildo tucked in the back of the box but decides
he’ll save it for another time.

“On your back,” Pete orders, leaving the box at arm's length, lid open, just in case he needs
something else from it.

Vegas rolls onto his back immediately, hands obediently resting on the bed on either side of him.
Pete didn’t tell Vegas could touch him so he won’t do it unless he is allowed to. Pete notices it but
saves the praise for later, gives Vegas's thigh a couple of gentle pats instead.

Pete reaches for the waistband of Vegas's boxers and undresses him of his last piece of clothing.
Now Vegas is completely naked and Pete still has all of his clothes on. The detail seems to not be
lost to Vegas either because his cock instantly stirs as soon as he finds himself completely bare.

“You’re still quite soft, we’ll have to do something about that,” Pete comments, then flicks Vegas's
still-flaccid cockhead with a finger. Vegas whimpers low and pathetically. “Spread your legs.”

Once again, Vegas hurries to obey. Pete places himself in between Vegas's spread thighs, delighted
that Vegas is being so compliant tonight. He is usually much harder to control and sink into
subspace. Pete guesses he must really need this. Whatever happened earlier sent him into a spiral.
They’re going to have to talk about it later, but for now, Pete will do his best to give Vegas the
release he so desperately needs in other ways.

“You know, you’re such a pretty pet,” Pete tells Vegas, reaching forward with a hand, placing a
thumb on Vegas's bottom lip, and pressing against it until Vegas can’t help but part his lips. “Open
up for me, baby.”

As soon as Vegas's jaw drops further, Pete slides the cockring inside Vegas's mouth. “Suck on it,
get it really wet, come on,” Pete coaxes.

Vegas sucks on the ring like he’s been told to, while Pete holds it between his index and middle
finger, shivering slightly as he feels Vegas's tongue brush his fingertips from time to time. Vegas
makes everything look even lewder than it’s supposed to, thrusting the tip of his tongue into the
ring hole and twisting it this way and that when he is not sucking it and coating the cockring (and
Pete’s fingers) with saliva.

“That’s enough,” Pete says, well aware his voice comes out more strained than he intended to. It’s
impossible to stay immune to Vegas. Pete’s hardening dick agrees.

Vegas sticks his tongue out, pushing the cockring out of his mouth. Pete watches as the toy glistens
with Vegas's spit as he guides it towards Vegas's cock. It’s a little harder than before, but still soft
enough that Pete can slide the cockring almost to the base with ease and room to spare.
Pete wastes no time and fits the bullet vibrator in the space between the ring and the underside of
Vegas's cock, making sure it won’t fall off.

“W-hat--,” Vegas starts but Pete immediately shushes him with a look.

“You need to be punished for your incompetency. So you won’t come until you’re allowed.”

Vegas smirks, acquiesces, and relaxes back onto the bed while Pete takes care of him. Pete sits
back on his heels, making himself comfortable between Vegas's spread legs. He holds Vegas's
erection with one hand, while the other holds the vibrator’s remote control.

Pete gathers some saliva in his mouth, and spits on Vega’s cockhead, watching it drip down the
side.

“Fuck!” Vegas curses under his breath, his cock visibly hardening, the cockring becoming fairly
snug around it. Pete can’t help but admire, even as he starts to masturbate Vegas to bring him to
full hardness.

“Imagine if your men could see you like this, so vulnerable, while I play with your cock. And when
you start begging? I hope you’re loud enough for them to hear you outside.”

“N-no, master, no!” There’s genuine panic in the way Vegas's eyes widen even though he probably
knows Pete asked for the floor to be cleared before he got up here. He’s serious about crafting
Vegas a respectful image.

“You may call me Pete. For now. I like my name on your tongue,” Pete tells Vegas. Then he gives
Vegas's cock a particularly hard tug that has Vegas keening and arching off the bed as he moans
loud enough to be heard in every room on their floor. Luckily, they’re all empty.

“I haven’t even started and you’re already this loud? Oh, baby. You really are pitiful.”

“I know-- I know I am,” Vegas replies, sounding breathless.

“I’m glad you agree. Such a good whore, huh? Are you trying to please me? You’ll have to do
better than that.”

With that, Pete stops touching Vegas and then climbs over his body, straddling Vegas's chest. He
looks down at Vegas, the anticipation clear on his face.

“You’re going to put that mouth of yours to good use, then I might let you fuck me, and maybe
come before the night ends,” Pete says, reaching for Vegas's face so he can slowly caress his chin.

“Please, Pete. I’ll be so good f--.” Vegas doesn’t get to finish his sentence, his voice breaking out
into a moan when Pete presses the button of the remote control and pushes the switch up to the
highest setting.

The buzzing of the vibrator echoes loudly in the silent room. Pete watches with satisfaction as
Vegas's expression forms into one of pure pleasure. He allows Vegas a few seconds of stimulation
before he turns the vibrator off.

“That felt good, didn’t it?” Pete asks.

Vegas seems to only have enough presence of mind to nod frantically and nothing else.

“Time to make me feel good, then,” Pete says before he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, pulling
them and his underwear down along only low enough to free his already half-hard cock.

The sight of Pete’s erection, his scent, and the way he stares down at Vegas with visible lust in his
eyes, makes Vegas's blood run hot in his veins, like a forest fire spreading rapidly through his body,
making his dick throb painfully but deliciously.

“Please,” Vegas breathes out and it’s all he can manage before Pete shuts him up with a sudden
kiss.

It’s not what Vegas expected but he welcomes Pete’s prodding tongue in his mouth, sucking on it
just to signal to Pete how much he wants, needs this. Their lips work frantically like two opposite
forces pulled into each other’s gravity. They breathe into each other’s mouths, Vegas lets out a gasp
when Pete turns on the vibrator again, sending zaps of pleasure through his dick.

Pete is the one who breaks the kiss. He doesn’t give Vegas much time to recompose himself before
he is pressing the tip of his cock to Vegas's already parted lips. Vegas sucks the head into his
mouth, circling it with his tongue, gathering saliva in the back of his mouth so he can coat Pete’s
length with it the further Pete slides in.

Pete knows Vegas likes it rough, so he doesn’t waste any time, grabbing Vegas’s hair with his free
hand and guiding Vegas’s head forward so he can take Pete halfway in before he snaps his hips
once in an experimental thrust. A moan forms in the back of Vegas’s throat, muffled by Pete’s cock
stuffed into his mouth.

“Gonna move now. Take it like the good boy you are and mind your teeth,” Pete says.

He picks up a pace that’s neither too slow nor fast, sliding in and out of Vegas’s mouth shallowly.
All of Vegas’s senses seem to be heightened now as he sucks Pete’s dick, movements hindered and
guided by Pete’s firm grip on his hair. He grips the sheets, fighting the urge to place his hands on
Pete’s hips, remembering he wasn’t told he could do so.

The vibrating against his dick sends a weird sensation throughout his body; not enough stimulation
to get him off but enough to have his cock hardening faster than it would without Pete touching
him directly.

“Fuck, you feel so good, pet. Your mouth really was made to suck dick. You do it so well.”

Pete’s praise travels directly to Vegas’s cock and he jerks his hips up involuntarily. That earns him
a painful yank at his hair, then Pete increases the setting on the vibrator. Vegas attempts some kind
of protest but Pete is still working his mouth, going slower but deeper.

“Remember to breathe through your nose. We don’t want you choking just yet, right?” Pete’s tone
is soft despite the way he’s plunging into the heat of Vegas’s mouth.

Pete’s cockhead grazes the back of Vegas’s throat and he half-chokes around it, doing his best to
relax his throat. Pete pulls back just enough to allow Vegas some breathing room. When he deems
it safe enough he thrusts forward again, all the way in, lodging his cock deep into Vegas’s mouth,
watching with sparkly, lust-clouded eyes as a few tears escape from under Vegas’s fluttering
eyelids.

“So pretty for me,” Pete whispers, his hand sliding down to the base of Vegas’s neck, gentle but
firm. The touch tells Vegas to stay still, to be good; obedient. This is his punishment but it’s also
his reward. He can make it up to Pete like this – he can give Pete pleasure, making him feel
incredible and then, maybe, Pete won’t think of him as someone who is completely useless.
Pete gasps and moans as Vegas manages a good hard suck on his dick, even with his mouth stuffed
so full. Pete’s hips stutter causing Vegas’s nose to brush against his pubes. Vegas takes in a deep
breath, inhaling Pete’s characteristic clean, soapy scent – there’s only a hint of musk mixed with it,
which Vegas secretly loves.

Pete starts fucking into Vegas again, without warning, the salty taste of his pre-cum filling Vegas’s
mouth. Vegas moans around it, loves it. Everything about Pete, he loves.

The stimulation of the senses overwhelms but also helps Vegas sink deeper and deeper into that
peaceful, mindless state where he exists only to be used by Pete.

“Wanna fuck me now, hm? Do you think you-- ahh , do you think you deserve it?” Pete is visibly
worked up if his shallow, unrhythmic thrusts are any indication. His thighs are also visibly
trembling, tired of kneeling for long, straddling Vegas.

Vegas can’t use words, but he nods to the best of his ability, opening his eyes to look up at Pete’s
beautiful face. He is glowing. And, sure, some of it is the thin layer of sweat covering his skin, but
Vegas knows it’s also from arousal. Pete always looks the most gorgeous when they’re fucking.

“Let’s lube you up, then.”

Vegas can’t help but protest at the loss once Pete’s cock is gone from his mouth. He massages his
jaw slightly, watching as Pete settles next to him on the bed and retrieves a small plastic tube from
the black wooden box, uncapping it.

“This might feel uncomfortable.” Vegas doesn’t register what exactly is supposed to feel
uncomfortable but he nods anyway.

Pete pours a good amount of it over Vegas’s dick, lets it drip from head to base before he starts
spreading it up and down the length, driving Vegas a bit mad with how slow his hand is moving.

“This has to go now, sorry,” Pete says before he hooks a finger into the very narrow gap between
the cockring and Vegas’s erection He pushes against the bottom of the small vibrator so it
painfully slides up, dragging along Vegas’s length.

Pete isn’t sorry at all or he would have at least turned the damn thing off before doing this. The
stupid toy is still vibrating against Vegas’s dick, making him squirm slightly. Vegas is rock-hard
by now, especially after Pete fucked his mouth so good, so having the toy pressed up against his
sensitive skin is a kind of torture when he knows he can’t come and that it would be physically
hard to even if he’s already desperate enough.

Vegas is grateful when Pete finally turns the thing off and discards it somewhere on the bed
allowing him and his dick some brief respite.

“That wasn’t so bad, huh?” Pete teases and Vegas curses low, his throat feeling a bit sore from
earlier. Pete laughs. “You’ve endured worse, baby. Do you think you can fuck me long enough to
make me come? Be honest.”

“Yes, I can. Let me, Pete. Wanna make you feel so good.”

He truly believes he would have come by now if it wasn’t for the ring wrapped snugly around his
base, with how fucking pent-up and on edge he is, but he won’t back down now.

“If you’re sure,” Pete says.

He does quick work of undressing, throwing his clothes on the small pile on top of Vegas’s. Pete
lies down next to Vegas, coaxing Vegas to lie on his side facing him. “You can touch me now, but
you’ll do as I say.”

“I love you,” Vegas says, his hand coming up to cup one of Pete’s cheeks, caressing it with
something akin to desperation settling in his expression.

Pete hums, noncommittally. Vegas’s jaw tightens, his throat constricting.

“I do love you,” Vegas repeats.

Pete’s eyes soften but the way he smirks is meant to be cruel. “Prove it. The only way you know
how.”

Vegas downright snarls, his face shutting down, eyes gone completely dark. His hand slides down
to rest on the base of Pete’s neck, heavy and bruising. Pete holds Vegas’s gaze, challenging him.
Squeeze it and you’ll be sorry, Pete warns with his eyes.

Vegas’s grip loosens, but he is on top of Pete in an instant. He isn’t allowed to demand or give
orders since Pete is calling the shots, but he doesn’t need to because Pete is already spreading his
legs beautifully for him and all Vegas has to do is suck on two fingers before he slides them into
Pete.

Pete’s hole flutters around Vegas’s fingers, giving little to no resistance. It’s one of the things
Vegas loves about Pete: he seems to always be ready for Vegas to fuck him.

“Good, Vegas. It feels really good, keep going,” Pete praises, eyes fluttering shut as Vegas keeps
fingerfucking him, spreading him open.

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Vegas says, impatient. He needs to be inside Pete in the next minute
or so or he won’t answer for his actions.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you. Now, give me another finger,” Pete coaxes, eyes open now so he can
give Vegas a meaningful, assertive look.

“As you wish,” Vegas says, a small smile adorning his lips.

Vegas pulls the previous two fingers out so he can spread lube on his pointer, middle and ring
finger, making them slick enough so he can slide all three with ease inside Pete.

Pete mewls at the fullness, the stretch stinging just enough to make it even more pleasurable.
Pete’s eyes roll to the back of his head once Vegas grazes his prostate with the tips of his fingers.

“Shit. Vegas, fuck, baby. You really know how to treat me well,” Pete exhales, reaching for his
own dick so he can stroke it lazily.

“I know I do, you don’t need to tell me.” Vegas is smirking down at Pete, basking in the way Pete
looks lost in pleasure.

“Now, don’t get cheeky. You’re still being punished, don’t forget it.”

As if to make a point, Pete hauls himself up on an elbow and stops touching his dick, so he can
reach between Vegas’s thigh and squeeze his balls. Vegas’s breath hitches and he grunts low and
feral as his dick pulsates.
“Remember your place,” Pete says, still fondling Vegas’s balls, teasingly, before he slides a finger
down his perineum. “You’re my pet, you’re here to do as I say.”

“Yes, Khun Pete.”

Pete snickers, seemingly satisfied with Vegas’s display of submission.

“Now, fuck me,” Pete says, settling on his back again.

Vegas slides his fingers out of Pete’s ass, one by one, before he drapes himself half on top of Pete,
only keeping his weight off Pete by supporting himself with one elbow on the mattress.,

Vegas starts kissing Pete’s neck, taking his time there, nibbling and sucking. Pete lets Vegas do his
thing, knowing how badly he wanted to touch Pete all night, even though Pete is craving Vegas
inside him.

Trailing kisses down Pete’s body, Vegas takes a nipple between his lips, and sucks on it a few
times with gusto, before he bites down teasingly on it. Pete’s back arches off the bed, hands flying
to Vegas’s back where he digs his fingers in the flesh with enough force to break skin.

“Vegas, come on. I won’t say it again,” Pete manages even though he feels his self-control
slipping. It’s hard to be the one taking the lead when Vegas’s mouth is all over him like this.

Vegas pretends not to listen, reaching to pinch the nipple which is not trapped between his hungry
lips. Pete can’t help but whimper embarrassingly when Vegas grinds against him, his dick
dragging against Pete’s which, at this point, is as hard as Vegas.

“ Vegas,” Pete’s commanding tone has Vegas finally stopping feasting on Pete’s nipples and
looking up. “Inside me. Now. ”

Pete doesn’t know if it’s the impatience in his voice or the way he’s painfully hard, pressed up
against Vegas. Or the look of desperation he knows he is sporting right now – whatever it is, it
makes Vegas finally stop being a brat and grab one of Pete’s legs, throwing it over one of his
shoulders. He aligns his cock to Pete’s entrance, rubbing the head of his cock against the rim,
watching it flutter prettily, invitingly.

“Go slow. I have work to do in the morning and I don’t want to be limping.” That’s not the real
reason Pete asks Vegas to slow. He simply wants to torture Vegas a little more, see how far he can
go without breaking. Before he starts begging and pleading for Pete to let him come.

Vegas assents before he starts to enter Pete slowly.

It feels so fucking good to finally be full of Vegas’s cock. Pete can’t tear his eyes away from the
look of concentration Vegas has. He looks beautiful, the marks Pete has left on the juncture of his
neck a reminder that he is Pete’s and nobody else’s.

Vegas splays a hand across Pete’s lower belly, keeping him in place while he slides inside until he
bottoms out.

“Stay still,” Pete orders. Vegas doesn’t move. He lets Pete adjust, his own breathing heavy and a
little uneven.

Pete doesn’t rush, reveling in how delicious it is to have Vegas fit so perfectly inside of him. It’s
almost comforting to be connected to him in this way. Especially when he knows how devoted
Vegas is to him. If Pete asked, Vegas would endure the pain of not getting any release and would
keep his cock inside Pete all night.

Luckily for Vegas, Pete isn’t that cruel.

“You can move now,” Pete tells Vegas, seeing the obvious relief on his face.

Vegas starts moving his hips, using both hands to hold onto Pete’s side so he can keep his balance
and rhythm. He is gentle at first, going at a slow pace, letting Pete enjoy the way his length drags
against Pete’s inner walls and Pete loves it, he does, but he needs more.

“You can go faster,” Pete says and Vegas immediately increases his pace. His grip on Pete’s hips
tightens as he does so.

Vegas starts fucking into Pete faster, going deeper with each thrust. Pete’s body reacts naturally as
he moves his hips to meet Vegas’s thrusts. It feels too good for him to keep this up for as long as he
wants it to so he suddenly tells Vegas to stop.

The look of confusion on Vegas’s face melts Pete’s core just a bit, but he tells Vegas to pull out
anyway.

“On your back,” Pete commands. Vegas looks like he’s going to protest but doesn’t, doing as he’s
told.

They flip positions so Pete is on top, straddling Vegas’s hips. Pete takes a good look at Vegas’s
angry-red cock. He looks so fucking hard, it must be painful, so Pete checks in on him again before
he sinks into Vegas’s cock.

“Are you ok? What’s your color?”

“Green, it’s fucking green, Pete. Please just hurry up,” Vegas half-whines, snapping his hips up,
dragging his cock against Pete’s ass in the process.

Pete clicks his tongue then leans forward, hovering over Vegas until their noses almost brush. He
holds Vegas’s chin, tipping it up so Vegas will look him in the eye.

“I will take my time with you and you will be obedient. Understood?” Pete says between gritted
teeth.

Vegas doesn’t say anything, doesn’t nod. Pete knows he might be dangling on that very edge
between complete submission and resistance. It’s nothing new. Vegas always vacillates between
the two. Pete always jokes he is a work in progress as a sub.

“Obedient pets get rewarded, don’t forget that,” Pete says, threatening enough that he sees the
moment it dawns on Vegas how serious Pete is.

“I will be good.”

“We’ll see,” Pete says, nonchalantly, then he pushes himself to his knees again.

Pete sinks into Vegas’s cock without making a single noise. Even though it takes all of his self-
control not to moan, he doesn’t want to give Vegas the satisfaction yet. Vegas is fully sheathed
inside of him, his balls pressing against Pete’s ass, when Pete experimentally rolls his hips and
then starts to move, the cockring adding an extra pleasure factor to the slow grind.

“Fuck, Pete” Vegas curses, placing his hands on Pete’s waist as Pete keeps riding him, increasing
the pace the better it feels and the closer he gets to his climax.

“Say my name, again. And you can move, fuck into me, come on. Make me come.”

The words coax Vegas into starting fucking up into Pete, trying to match Pete’s movements. He
can’t quite follow at first, likely too desperate to come himself, even though he isn’t sure he’ll be
able to with the ring constricting his dick.

They’re both chasing their orgasms, Pete now bouncing on Vegas’s cock, the sound of skin
slapping against skin, and the squelching of Vegas’s length sliding in and out of Pete’s hole filling
the air.

“You close?” Pete asks just to tease.

“Y-yes, but.. Fuck, Pete. It hurts. ”

Pete sends Vegas a pitiful look and rolls his hips once, twice. Then he leans back, braces a hand on
each of Vegas’s thighs, and raises his hips so Vegas slides halfway out, then he sinks back into
Vegas’s cock again, and just like that, Pete sets up a brutal rhythm, ignoring the way his thighs
burn and his arms feel like giving out any moment

He rides and rides Vegas until he finds the perfect angle for Vegas to hit his sweet spot. Then he
reduces his movements to a frantic grind, unraveling slowly, feeling his balls tighten until his cock
is shooting thick ropes of cum all over Vegas’s chest and stomach.

Pete moans and chants Vegas’s name as he rides out his orgasm, holding onto his cock and jerking
himself off until the last remnants of jizz have dripped out all over his fingers. Then he guides his
hand to Vegas’s lips, pressing his cum-slick fingers against them, forcing Vegas’s mouth open.

“Suck,” Pete orders.

He watches with a lustful gaze as Vegas filthily laps at his fingers and sucks on them until they’re
clean.

“Such a good boy for me.”

“Only for you,” Vegas moans around Pete’s fingers, then bites on one of them playfully.

“Ouch. Good pets don’t bite their owners, Vegas,” Pete scolds then clenches around Vegas’s cock
still inside him.

“Pete, s-stop. I can’t take it anymore,” Vegas pleads, his eyes watering. His hands tighten around
Pete’s waist, but the latter only snickers at Vegas’s pathetic state.

Vegas wants to beg, ready to humiliate himself just so Pete lets him come. He has been holding on
for so long, that Vegas thinks he’ll burst soon, regardless of Pete allowing it or not and he doesn’t
want to misbehave.

“I’ll let you come. But not inside me. You haven’t done your job properly so that’s a reward you
won’t get.”

Vegas’s face burns with humiliation. He’s grateful that Pete keeps reminding him of how big of a
disappointment he is, but he can’t help the shame that overwhelms him.

“You can come on my face,” Pete smiles gently and leans in to kiss the tip of Vegas’s nose,
causing Vegas’s cock to slide out of his hole with a lewd, wet sound in the process.

Pete flops them over with ease, always stronger than he seems. He takes hold of Vegas’s cock once
Vegas has positioned himself with his thighs flanking Pete’s chest.

“It looks like a lot will come out, baby,” Pete comments while he teases Vegas’s slit with the tip of
a finger. He slots his thumb right under Vegas’s crown and presses, making Vegas keen and fall
forward, his hands gripping the headboard until his knuckles turn white.

“Pete, please . Please let me come , already.”

This might be the longest Pete has ever kept Vegas from coming and he is surprised he has been
able to hold out for so long. Vegas would be proud of himself if he had any pride left.

Pete keeps teasing Vegas’s cock, his pretty fingers working the whole length of it up and down,
until he finally, mercifully starts to slide out the cockring.

“You did well tonight, baby. You were a very good boy for me, despite everything.”

Vegas can feel his eyes wet again. He’s spilled so many tears tonight that he knows he should feel
ashamed.

Once the ring is completely out, Pete holds Vegas by the base, kisses the tip of his cock gently,
then says, “You can come now.”

Pete starts jerking Vegas off at a frantic, sloppy pace but Vegas doesn’t care at all, shutting his
eyes as he feels the pleasure build and build and build until it reaches its peak. His body goes
taught and only at the last second does he remember to look down so he can watch the way his seed
shoots out of his cock to paint Pete’s face and chest.

Pete has his eyes half-closed, but Vegas wills himself to stay with his own eyes open even though
his climax hits him with such force he doesn’t think he will ever stop coming.

But eventually, it does subside, after what seems like minutes, hours. Vegas is shaking, his arms
giving out. Pete wipes the worst of the mess on his face using one of their shirts before Vegas’s
body slides down to rest on top of Pete. Pete has got him, wraps his arms around Vegas, lets him
rest his head on his shoulder, and bury his face in the crook of Pete’s neck. Vegas feels hands
carding through his hair, gentle and grounding, keeping him tethered to reality.

“Don’t fall asleep. I gotta get us cleaned up,” Pete says, voice barely above a whisper but Vegas
hears him, does his best to stay conscious. “You’re still half-hard.”

Pete giggles and Vegas squirms at the feather-light touch against his overly sensitive dick.

“Shh, it’s okay. It will feel better soon. I’ll have some food sent up for us and then you can sleep.
We’ll talk in the morning, alright?”

Vegas only hums to show he is listening. He has no energy left to do anything else.

In the next few minutes, he’s only semi-aware of Pete carefully untangling himself from Vegas’s
embrace and arranging some pillows under Vegas’s head before he briefly leaves the bed. Then
there are expert hands cleaning him up with a wet and warm washcloth: his face, chest, stomach,
armpits, crotch, and thighs.

The touch is gentle and familiar and Vegas is barely awake but he does hum satisfied while he is
 cleaned and taken care of.

Pete feeds him.

A couple of spoonfuls of congee and some warm tea. He coaxes Vegas to chew and swallow,
caressing his hair, the nape of his neck, kissing him in all the right places.

“By the way, I love you too.”

Vegas feels lucky, less broken, almost whole, in moments like this. Whenever he is with Pete, he
feels like he is more than what he knows he is. Better than what he knows he is. Pete is the only
one who can take him apart so beautifully and then put him back together so expertly.

End Notes

thank u for reading!

please drop a comment or kudo if you enjoyed this <3

also you can find me on twitter where i obsess over kinnporsche AND vegaspete every day
of my life

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