Chapter Text
Pete had been home from the hospital for a handful of days when Tankhun showed up on their doorstep.
Pete sat on the couch, where he’d been helped (since moving still kind of hurt and he wasn’t supposed to do too much) and spent most of the last several days sitting and watching TV with either Vegas or Macau or both, depending on the time of day. Vegas was being truly, impressively clingy, sticking to Pete’s side like glue, and he thought that would probably last a while. He didn’t mind. Just like after the kidnapping, having Vegas close helped to keep him calm. Though it annoyed Vegas whenever Pete mentioned it, Pete wasn’t going to forget why he’d been hurt. He’d been worried about Vegas, too, and didn’t mind the way he hovered close. It helped to keep him from overthinking and spiraling.
The knock on the door disturbed them both, where Pete was leaned up against Vegas while they watched daytime TV. It was excruciatingly boring, honestly, but they’d already rewatched Pete’s favorite movies and he wasn’t desperate enough to start rewatching the K-dramas he knew. Yet.
Vegas looked irritated. It was the middle of the day, and Macau was at school. “Who the fuck?” muttered Vegas, and glared at the door.
“I don’t know.” Who would be in their building? They hadn’t buzzed anyone in.
Vegas snorted and looked back at the TV. “They’ll go away.”
They did not, in fact, go away, and after two more increasingly-sharp knocks, Vegas made an annoyed noise and extracted his arm from around Pete carefully. “They better have a damn good reason for being here,” muttered Vegas under his breath.
Pete was a little nervous after all the violence recently and hooked an elbow over the back of the couch to watch as Vegas stalked over toward the door. The movement stung but Pete ignored it, still worried. Luckily, it seemed Vegas shared his worry because Pete saw the way he glanced at the table near the door – where they both kept their pistols locked up, for easy access but still safe – before looking through the peephole.
“What the fuck, ” muttered Vegas.
“Who is it?” asked Pete, and Vegas shot him a look, then just sighed and yanked the door open.
Pete blinked, a little shocked, as he took in the sight of a familiar, tall, red-haired man wearing an alarmingly hot-pink feathered jacket (like it wasn’t wickedly hot outside), matching pink gloves, sunglasses, and patterned green pants. “What do you want?” asked Vegas a bit flatly.
“I’m here to do a house check.” Tankhun spoke as if that were the most obvious answer in the world before pushing right past Vegas and walking inside. Arm trailed behind him, looking a little apologetic as he ducked a quick bow to Vegas.
“Khun Vegas,” he mumbled awkwardly.
“Khun Tankhun?” said Pete as Tankhun came to a stop in the middle of their living area, between the couch and the kitchen, hands on his hips and glanced around as if surveying the area.
“Pete,” replied Tankhun, frowning slightly. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“I was watching TV, and the doctor said that small, basic movements are good for me to heal.” It was arguably too soon for those movements, but Pete was bored and if he was going to watch TV all day, he’d rather use their flatscreen than Vegas’ laptop.
“Hmm.” Tankhun sounded unconvinced and he reinforced that with a skeptical look over the top of his sunglasses at Pete. “It sounds to me like Vegas is being a bad nurse.”
Vegas made an outraged noise by the door and Pete winced. “He’s taking great care of me, Khun Tankhun, I promise.”
“Well that’s what I’m here to check,” replied Tankhun with finality, as if what he said made any sort of sense. “I don’t trust your lovesick brain to tell me the truth so I’m checking for myself.”
“What?” replied Pete because he was entirely lost.
Tankhun ignored him. “If I find your living conditions aren’t satisfactory then I’ll make sure the situation is remedied.”
“Who gave you permission to barge in here and decide things?” challenged Vegas, walking over to lean his hips against the back of the couch, running his fingers through Pete’s hair lightly, almost passingly. Pete leaned into the touch a little, though his gaze was still on Tankhun.
Tankhun shot Vegas a look over his sunglasses. “Of course I can make decisions. I have Pete’s best interests at heart.”
“And you think I don’t?”
“That remains to be seen,” replied Tankhun loftily, then he gestured. “Show me around. Pete says you’re neat . I want proof.”
Vegas looked deeply annoyed and Pete reached up and caught his hand, squeezing it. Vegas glanced down at him, raising his eyebrows. “Do you mind indulging him?” said Pete quietly. “It’ll just be easier.”
Vegas got an odd look on his face for a moment before letting out a gusty, long-suffering sigh. “ Fine.” He squeezed Pete’s hand lightly, then straightened upright, shooting a slightly-hostile glare at Tankhun. “Come on, then. Follow me.”
—
Vegas’ patience wore dangerously thin as he showed Tankhun around the apartment. The annoying, flamboyant man didn’t just look into each room. He inspected them down to the last detail. He poked under the mattress in Vegas and Pete’s bedroom, swept his finger over the dresser looking for dust, looked for soap-scum in the shower, tried to find dust-bunnies under the couch, and came just short of having a full fit when he saw Macau’s room (which was, as always, a disaster).
“I thought Pete said you were neat,” said Tankhun accusatorily, a hand pressed to his chest as if actually clutching at pearls.
Vegas had his hands on his hips, glaring at his cousin, annoyed. “That’s Macau’s room, not mine, idiot.”
Tankhun shot him a look. “And you think this kind of slobbery is acceptable in your home?”
“It’s his room. If he’s messy in it, then he has to live with the consequences. I don’t let it overflow into the rest of the place.”
Tankhun looked at him for a long moment, clearly dissatisfied, then let out a gusty sigh and shut the door. “ Fine. But if I find anything else unsatisfactory then we’ll be having a conversation about how to remedy it.”
Vegas let out a breath, flexing his fingers against his hips and reminded himself that Pete would be sad if he strangled Tankhun, then followed as Tankhun swept off to look at their gym. He seemed vaguely put out that he didn’t find anything out of place.
Vegas didn’t consider himself obsessively neat by any means, but he liked the place to be orderly. Pete never objected and pitched in to help with chores whenever Vegas set out to do more than tidy. They did it on Saturday mornings usually, and it didn’t take too long since they kept the place pretty orderly.
Still, he thought maybe he did border on obsessive since Tankhun seemed disappointed not to find anything else that was out of place or dirty enough to criticize. Tankhun simply examined everything and sighed dramatically before shooing Vegas back toward the living area again.
—
Pete couldn’t follow Vegas and Tankhun as they went on their tour of the condo and just watched them flit around the living area and kitchen before Tankhun stalked off toward the bedrooms and Vegas trailed, looking incredibly annoyed. Pete hoped that they wouldn’t kill each other, but wasn’t worried enough to send Arm after them.
“Hey, come here.” Arm’s gaze snapped to him from where he’d been watching the two Theerapanyakun cousins disappear through that doorway.
“What?” he said blankly, then Pete gestured for him to come sit closer.
“Come talk to me. We haven’t caught up in a while.”
“Oh.” Arm cast a glance toward the door again. “Do you think they’ll —“
“I have full faith that Tankhun will come out of there alive,” replied Pete, somewhat amused. “Now come here!”
Arm hesitated a moment longer before letting out a soft sigh and coming around the couch to sit next to Pete, shooting him a small smile. “How are you doing? Recovering okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just not supposed to move too much right now. The stitches are still fresh. Don’t want to rip them.” Pete couldn’t help examining his friend. Arm looked a bit tired and pinched around the eyes. It made Pete wonder…
“That’s good. I’m sure Vegas has been taking good care of you.” Arm offered him a small smile. Why did it look sad?
“Are you okay?” asked Pete quietly, unable to shake the thought that Arm looked wrong.
Arm blinked. “What? What makes you ask that?”
“I don’t know. You just seem a bit off.” Pete examined his face again, watching the way Arm’s expression flickered.
“I’m just tired,” replied Arm with a smile that Pete didn’t believe. “Been working a lot, lately.”
“To fill in for someone?”
“Something like that.”
Arm was being vague. Pete was a little frustrated but also wasn’t sure if it was something he should push on… still, he decided to poke just a little bit more. Then he’d back off.
“Or are you working because you’re trying not to think about something?”
Pete didn’t miss the way Arm flinched a little, then, slowly, his shoulders dropped. He shot Pete a rueful look. “Am I really that easy to read?”
“No. But we’ve been friends for quite a while.” Pete shot him a small, comforting smile. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, though.” After all, there were so many things that Pete hadn’t told Arm. But after everything that happened with the kidnapping, Pete couldn’t help wanting to be there for Arm. They were friends, but also Pete owed him. Since Arm did favors for him when no one else would’ve.
Arm looked at him for a moment before slowly taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose, letting out a soft but fervent sigh. “I made a mistake,” he said quietly, still pinching the bridge of his nose.
“What kind of mistake?” asked Pete softly.
Arm was silent for a long moment. Long enough that Pete wondered if he would speak at all or simply let the subject drop. Then, again, slowly, he moved, removing his fingers from the bridge of his nose and looking over at Pete. And he looked even more tired without his glasses on. And sad…
“I fell in love with someone I shouldn’t,” murmured Arm quietly, looking, for an instant, impossibly sad. “And it’s tearing me apart.”
Pete stared at him for a moment, entirely speechless. He’d never really seen Arm show much interest in other people. At least not romantically. “Why shouldn’t you?” he finally asked, voice soft.
Arm dropped his gaze, looking across the room at the muted TV. “He’s with someone else.”
“Oh.”
Pete chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t know what to say… but he hated the sad look on his friend’s face. “Maybe you can steal him away?” he suggested half-heartedly.
Arm cracked a small, obligatory smile. “No. He’s made his choice.”
“You talked to him about it?” asked Pete softly.
Arm nodded, still looking across at the TV. “Yeah. We decided it’s best if we stay away from each other.”
Pete swallowed and shifted to put a hand on Arm’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “I’m sorry.”
Arm let out a ragged sigh and put his glasses back on, shooting Pete another tight, fake little smile. “It’s okay. I just have to move past it. That’s why I’m working so much. Keeps me distracted.”
“Yeah, I get that.” Pete squeezed his shoulder. “Who is it? Do I know him?”
Arm glanced up at him, and there was something really, intensely sad in his expression that made Pete’s gut twist.
Arm opened his mouth, speaking softly, “It’s —“
“Pete!” Tankhun’s loud, almost whiny voice interrupted them and made Arm jump before hopping to his feet. Pete regretted that the moment was over before he could even really comfort Arm — he could tell by the look on Arm’s face that he wouldn’t want to talk about any of this in front of Vegas or Tankhun. He resolved to meet with Arm again soon so they could catch up more thoroughly. It had been too long.
Pete glanced over his shoulder in time to see Vegas followed Tankhun back out into the living area, looking viscerally annoyed. Pete hooked his elbow over the back of the couch again, then reached out as Vegas drew close. Vegas caught his hand and squeezed it, moving closer to again lean against the couch.
“Are you satisfied now?”
“Moderately,” replied Tankhun, glancing around. “Your taste in decor is lacking, but your cleanliness is above reproach.”
“Thanks,” replied Vegas sarcastically, and Pete squeezed his hand firmly. Vegas shot him a glance and then sighed and rolled his eyes before glancing back at Vegas. “Now get out.”
“Not so fast,” replied Tankhun, pushing his feathery jacket behind him so he could put his hands on his hips. He sort of looked like a tropical bird puffing up for a fight, which was an image that perversely made Pete want to laugh. He restrained himself, of course, instead watching the showdown between Vegas and Tankhun with amusement.
“What the fuck do you want now?” replied Vegas testily. “To watch me change his bandages or some shit?”
“Actually yes, but that can wait until later. But first, Pete tells me you’re a good cook. So.” Tankhun looked at Vegas expectantly.
Vegas stared back. Then, slowly, disbelievingly, he muttered, “You want me to cook for you?”
“Yes,” replied Tankhun as though that was obvious. “I need to make sure Pete isn’t lying for you.”
Vegas stared at him in disbelief for a moment then he shot a sincerely helpless look at Pete that had Pete biting the inside of his cheek struggling not to laugh.
“It is almost dinner time,” Pete offered, and Vegas’ eyes narrowed.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Well, you’re going to cook either way,” replied Pete with a smile.
Vegas leaned down to breathe into his ear, “You’re lucky you’re injured or I’d punish you for this.” Then he straightened up and shot an annoyed look at Tankun. “Fine, then. I’ll cook for you, but don’t hold your breath about it being bad.”
“You’re awfully overconfident for someone who’s had cooks all his life,” replied Tankhun, arching an eyebrow. “So, go on then. Amaze me.”
“I fucking will,” muttered Vegas, sounding annoyed, then he straightened up and let go of Pete’s hand. “You.” He pointed at Arm, who jumped, looking alarmed. “Know how to make rice?”
“Um, yes,” replied Arm uneasily.
“Good. Start that while I’m cooking.” Vegas shooed a very confused-looking Arm into the kitchen while Tankhun watched with a disapproving look before coming to sit down next to Pete on the couch with a sigh.
“I should penalize him for asking for help but I suppose since it’s just rice I’ll be kind this once.”
“How generous of you, Khun,” said Pete, unable to entirely hide his amusement as he glanced back to see Vegas pulling vegetables out of the fridge. “He really is a good cook, you know.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” replied Tankhun. “ You are too in love to be any sort of fair measure.”
Pete let out a soft laugh and glanced over his shoulder to find Vegas aggressively chopping vegetables as Arm washed rice nearby, eyeing him nervously. It was kind of a funny sight, even if Pete still wondered about what Arm had talked about. He’d have to talk to him soon to find out more.
But, for now, he amused himself with watching Vegas prepare a curry for them all, looking aggressively annoyed the entire time. Soon, it was simmering, and filled the condo with a delicious, fragrant aroma. Tankhun looked suspicious, but said nothing, as Vegas hovered over the pot and stirred it occasionally, adding in some other aromatics later and making sure it wasn’t burning.
Macau came home from school when the food was just about done and looked very confused to find Tankhun on their couch and Arm fluffing cooked rice in the kitchen, which led Vegas to order him – a little too grouchily – to set the table. Pete shot him an apologetic look but Macau still mostly just looked confused as he did as he was told.
A few moments later, Vegas poked Arm to take the food to the table while he came over to help Pete up – glaring off Tankhun who clearly wanted to help, but Vegas was territorial. Moving still hurt a bit, but with Vegas supporting him it wasn’t too painful and a few moments later he was settled at the table, Tankhun trailing right behind, watching carefully. Vegas was, as always, incredibly gentle and made sure Pete was settled before shooting a glare at Tankhun and jerking his chin at another chair at the table. “Sit.”
“Vegas,” said Pete admonishingly as Vegas dropped into the seat right next to him.
Vegas shot him a look. “What?”
Pete shook his head. There was something oddly amusing about all of this, honestly, but Pete knew he couldn’t laugh because it would offend everyone present (except Arm).
The table was circular, and Tankhun sat down directly on the other side of Pete, and Macau sat down next to Vegas. Arm hovered awkwardly nearby and Pete caught his eye and raised his eyebrows. “Eat with us.”
Arm balked. “I don’t know if –”
“Ai’Arm, do you think Vegas poisoned us, is that why you’re refusing?” sniffed Tankhun. “Sit.”
Arm seemed a little lost but slowly walked over and sat down at the table. Pete sent him a small smile, and Arm caught his gaze and replied with a slightly strained smile – probably because he was now seated between Macau (who was side-eying him) and Tankhun (who was tugging his gloves off one finger at a time).
What passed from there was a deeply uncomfortable meal for probably everyone except Pete. Macau and Tankhun sniped at each other across the table, but luckily weren’t within reach of each other. Arm kept glancing sideways at Vegas, who was mostly intent on making sure Pete ate. Tankhun was visibly disappointed to discover the food was good, and Pete made sure to exclaim over it a little more than normal just so Vegas could preen and shoot Tankhun smug looks.
By the time they finished dinner, it was getting late and dark outside. Vegas bullied Arm and Macau into doing the dishes – Pete sent an apologetic look to Arm, but he didn’t seem to truly mind so Pete didn’t protest – then Vegas, Tankhun, and Pete sat at the table together in silence. Vegas and Tankhun eyed each other, and Pete glanced between them. After a moment, though, it seemed clear that neither was inclined to say anything so Pete cleared his throat. “Khun Tankhun?”
Tankhun glanced at him, his sunglasses now perched on top of his head carefully instead of on his face, since it had gotten a bit darker in the apartment. “Pete.”
“Are you satisfied I was telling the truth?”
Tankhun arched an eyebrow and glanced between them for a moment. “It seems that your lovesick ramblings were at least marginally accurate,” he finally replied and Pete had to stop himself from laughing again, chewing lightly on his tongue. He reached out and picked up Vegas’ hand under the table.
“Vegas and I are really happy here, you know,” replied Pete quietly.
Tankhun examined them again for a moment before sighing. “I know.” He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “This was hardly a proper housewarming, though. I’m disappointed.”
“You weren’t invited, you just showed up, ” muttered Vegas cuttingly and Pete squeezed his hand again, mostly just amused, still.
“You’re welcome to come back again, sometime. I’d enjoy that.”
Tankhun perked up immediately. “Great! I’m holding you to that, Pete.”
“Again?” muttered Vegas resignedly, and Pete squeezed his hand before tugging on it. Vegas glanced at him, then leaned closer so Pete could drop a kiss on his cheek lightly.
“Disgusting,” commented Tankhun as if just speaking about the weather.
Pete ignored him. “You know he doesn’t mean any harm,” he murmured to Vegas.
“Debatable,” muttered Vegas, but he sighed and squeezed Pete’s hand. “Whatever makes you happy, baby.”
Pete smiled and squeezed his in return. “I love you.”
“I want to throw up.” Tankhun sounded vaguely bored.
“Then go home ,” snapped Vegas, clearly annoyed.
“It is getting late,” added Pete, glancing at Tankhun. “Now that you’re satisfied, maybe it’s time to head home.”
“Who said I’m satisfied?” replied Tankhun, fixing them both with a look. “There’s still one area that we discussed that you haven’t demonstrated.”
Pete stared at him blankly for a moment. Then the memories clicked and he found himself almost immediately turning red. “Khun – that’s – um –”
Vegas shot Pete a look, raising both eyebrows. “What’s the last area? Cooking, cleaning…?”
“Sex, of course,” replied Tankhun and Vegas flinched and then immediately turned red as well as he glared at Tankhun.
“ What?”
“Pete claims you’re good in bed. I want a demonstration.” He spoke as if it was a completely reasonable thing to request and not something that made Pete want to crawl into a hole and die.
Vegas was entirely speechless for a long moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Pete scrambled for some kind of excuse, face feeling hot, and finally came up with, “We can’t – I’m not supposed to do too much physical activity!”
“Vegas is so confident in his ability to take care of you, I’m sure he can manage,” replied Tankhun unworriedly, and Vegas spluttered, seemingly still entirely lost for words.
Pete cast a desperate glance into the kitchen at Arm, who caught the look and immediately understood it, passing the plate he was washing off to Macau and drying his hands before darting over. “Khun Tankhun! It’s almost time for your series. It starts at 8!”
“What!” Tankhun stomped a foot on the ground and stood immediately, glaring at Arm. “Why didn’t you say so?! We have to go home immediately.”
Pete let out a quiet, relieved breath and avoided Vegas’ gaze for a moment, mouthing a silent thank you at Arm, who shot him a small, awkward smile before ushering Tankhun toward the door. He seemed more than happy to go, but at the last moment he came to a stop and turned back.
“Vegas. A final word.”
“For fuck’s sake,” muttered Vegas, then he got to his feet and smoothed Pete’s bangs off his forehead to drop a kiss on the skin there. “Be one minute.” Then he followed Tankhun over to the door.
—
“What the fuck do you want now?” Vegas wanted Tankhun out of here before he caused more chaos, and he was still warm in the face from that last run in and he hated it.
Tankhun shot him a disapproving look before pulling something out of his pocket and holding it out. It was a USB drive on a small chain. “Porsche sent this along for you. With his compliments.”
Vegas stared blankly for a moment before it clicked what that was.
“What happened to that bastard who stabbed Pete?”
“We killed him.”
“I want the video.”
“I’ll have it sent immediately.”
A surge of dark satisfaction overtook Vegas and he reached out and accepted the USB, tucking it into his pocket. “Thanks,” he muttered a little grudgingly.
“Don’t ever thank me again, I don’t like it,” replied Tankhun with an unsettled look. “Take good care of Pete. If he gets bored, let me know and I’ll send over my series collection.”
Vegas could already picture the despair on Pete’s face at that and had to suppress a smile. “I’ll let you know if he gets bored.”
“Good.” Tankhun surveyed the place once again, then sighed. “It appears that despite my wanting it to be otherwise you two have a good life here. So well done, for once.”
Vegas rolled his eyes. “Get out of my home.”
Tankhun arched an eyebrow before turning dramatically, his coat flying up so that Vegas almost got a mouthful of feathers, and then Tankhun flounced out, followed by a deeply apologetic-looking Arm, who closed the door on his way.
There was a moment of silence, and then Macau spoke. “What the fuck just happened?”
Vegas turned back as Pete let out a laugh, and as he sat at the table, laughing, face crinkled up, dimples on his cheeks, Vegas was momentarily struck all over again with how lucky he was to have Pete. It made him tighten his hand around the USB, thinking of the person who’d tried to separate them. He was going to enjoy watching that later and ensuring the man suffered as much as he deserved to.
But, for now, he slipped the USB into his pocket and walked over to the table. “Finish up the dishes,” he said to Macau, who still looked utterly blank. Macau made a face at him, but did as he was told.
Vegas walked over and dropped a kiss on Pete’s forehead. “Do you want to go to the couch? Or to bed?”
“Couch is fine.” Pete shot Vegas a curious look as Vegas took his hand to carefully help him upright. “What did he give you?”
“A video. From Porsche.” Slowly, Vegas helped Pete over to the couch and he sat down with a small wince. Vegas hated those winces – hated the reminder of what Pete had gone through. But it was okay. Because Pete was alive and here with him, and that man was dead, and Vegas had the proof in his pocket.
“A video of what?” asked Pete, looking up at Vegas, still curious.
“The man who hurt you. What happened to him.” Pete blinked, understanding flashing across his face.
Carefully, Vegas settled on the couch, then laid sideways so he could put his head in Pete’s lap. Pete made an amused noise and immediately started petting his hair, fingers gentle along Vegas’ scalp. Vegas hummed and closed his eyes, relaxing for the first time since Tankhun had arrived. He didn’t think Tankhun would ever hurt any of them, he just didn’t like him.
“You did good today, love,” murmured Pete, and it made Vegas hum happily, smiling reflexively before he could stop himself. He didn’t mind, it felt nice when Pete praised him.
“Just wanted to make you happy,” replied Vegas quietly, relaxing even further as Pete continued playing with his hair.
Pete laughed softly. “You do. Every day.”
Vegas flicked his eyes open and found Pete looking down at him with a soft, adoring, happy little smile, and it made his lips curve up on reflex. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” murmured Pete. “Relax, now. He won’t be back for a while.”
“How do you know?”
“I know him. He won’t be. Don’t worry.”
Vegas let out another gusty sigh. “I’ll put up with him for you, but I’m never going to like him.”
“I know. That’s okay.” Pete still looked amused. “He’s a good person. And he may have an odd way of showing it, but he really cares.”
“I can tell that,” replied Vegas dryly. “You talked to him about our sex life?”
“He grilled me about you!” replied Pete with a small laugh. “He thought you cried during sex.”
“One of us does,” replied Vegas with a smirk and Pete rolled his eyes.
“I hate you both,” said Macau’s voice from the kitchen. “I’m going to my room before I hear something traumatic.”
“Do your homework,” called Vegas without sitting up and he could feel rather than see the way Macau flicked him off as he walked away.
Pete stroked gently at his hair again. “I love you,” he repeated, and it made Vegas relax again, smiling up at Pete.
“I love you too, baby.” Pete hummed and Vegas let his eyes drift shut, relaxed and at ease with his head in Pete’s lap. And even though he’d hated pretty much every second of having Tankhun here (even if it had been somewhat satisfying to show that yes he and Pete were truly happy and had a good life together), Vegas thought that it was okay. Because Pete was happy. And Vegas didn’t mind what made Pete happy. Even if it came with an annoyance along the way.
So he stayed there, with his head in Pete’s lap, for quite a while, perfectly content with their cozy little life.