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"Are you sure it won't be a problem?"
"I've guarded Tankhun, so I'm sure no child will be worse than him. Not even your little gremlin."
They were best friends, so it was no surprise that Porsche listened to Pete's complaints about his love life. And to his surprise, all the problems came down to the child. It seemed that the kid wanted all the attention of both his parents to be paid only to him, finding ridiculous excuses for that. He could write a book and call it "10 Ways the Youngest Theerapanyakun Ruined His Parents' Dates". For example, one time Pete was in a restaurant with Vegas first in a long time. Venice was with them, so they had to go home before they got their orders ‘cause the kid got a headache and threw a tantrum. Only when they got back to the minor family residence, Venice admit that he just didn't like the decor of the restaurant, and seriously, Dad, how could you forget my headphones? I wouldn't have sat there for another half and a hour listening to that elevator music. Or when Venice punched a guy at school a month ago just so he could be suspended and be home for the next week.Porsche could tell it had turned into a problem, and to be honest, he blamed it on Vegas's parenting methods. He should have known that a new-born-father would choose one of those parenting methods. Allow the child everything that you weren't allowed to do, what can go wrong. It was obvious that the boy needed to be taken care of.
Hiring a nanny or babysitter would have been wise in this situation, but there was another problem. None of the girls they hired lasted more than a couple of hours with him.
"Please come in." Pete gestured to the door.
Much had indeed changed since Porsche had last been in the house. The dark wood paneling made him crane his head upward, his eyes tracing fingerprints and remnants of children's art. Colorful carpets covered the polished floor, muffling his footsteps. There were no guards anywhere. It was eerily quiet.
"Stay here, I'll get him in a minute." Pete said, hiding in one of the building's corridors. Try not to do anything that might make Vegas angry, He remembered what Kinn had told him. What was he doing? He had experience with childcare, of course, but that was his brother. His younger, sweet, understanding brother, Chey, who had never been a problem. He didn't know what to expect from the Vegas kid.
"This is going to be fine," he told himself, ignoring the urge to walk carefully out of Pete's house without getting Vegas mad. "It's only for a few hours. How bad can a kiddo be, knowing that i- fuck"
Then a small figure in an obviously oversized shirt bumped into him.
Porsche heard a youthful voice.
"I don't like him.", Kid said, pointing a toy gun at him. "The matter is settled, dad. No need for a nanny, I'm coming with you."
"No." Pete said calmly as he followed Venice out the door. "It's just me and Dad tonight. Just the two of us." He insisted.
"But if Venice doesn't like the nanny , then there won't be a nanny. You said so!" The child shouted, moving away from Porsche.
"That rule doesn't apply this time." Pete said as he tied his tie. "We'll try to get back as soon as we can." He turns to Porsche. "Just don't let him eat too many sweets and make sure he goes to bed no later than ten. I appreciate your help tonight, you know how much our time with Vegas means to me.He'll never tell you this, but he appreciates it too."
Then Porsche turned slightly and saw Vegas in slacks and a white patterned shirt. He looked up from the child, narrowing his eyes at Porsche.
"Kittisawat," he said, pausing. Porsche moved nervously under the devil's gaze, clenching his fists. "Don't break anything, we'll be back by eleven."
"I want him to be in one piece by the time I get back," Vegas ordered, ignoring his son's insistent hand. "Understand?" Venice nodded seriously.
***
As Pete's car drove away from the gate, something heavy hit Porsche's head.
"Who are you?" the kid asked, brandishing an impressive-looking toy gun. Stunned, Porsche looked up, pointing it at his chin. "Answer me!"
"I- I-," his hand dropped. The barrel was pushed closer to his throat with a thud. "Jesus Christ, are you four? Put that down, you'll hurt someone!"
"I'm eight," Kid hissed, stepping forward. Dark eyes set between high cheekbones looked at him, dark hair framing parched skin. "And the point is to hurt people, you idiot. Now give me an answer. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, oh, oh, oh," Porsche whispered, making a peace sign with his hands. "I'm your nanny, okay? I'm supposed to be here. Who the hell you think you are?"
The baby straightened up a little, sniffing. "My name is Venice Theerapanyakun. An only child..."
"You are indeed a child of Vegas. I shouldn't have asked. Looks like his real child, doesn't it?" Porsche took a step back, feeling his hand clench the belt that had once held the knife. Oh no, he was not afraid of little gremlin. "You're kind of, uh, small for eight, aren't you?"
"You-"
"I'm starting to see the resemblance a little bit," Porsche said, casting a wicked glance at his distress. It was good to see that this trait hadn't skipped a generation. "Maybe more than a little."
"Don't give me any trouble and we'll get along just fine, you little gremlin."
***
"We have to unite."
"No!" Macau grumbles without looking up from the game. "Hia said not to give him any more trouble. He already has enough, especially with Porsche in his house."
"And we can fix that problem," Venice raises an eyebrow. "I’ll take care of him. You know that I'm gonna do it anyway, I just need your help to speed things up." He catches Macau's sly glance.
***
"No, really, Kinn, you're not listening..."
Porsche dove to the side as Macau actually flew out of the room with guns in both hands. Orange darts whizzed past his head as he ducked behind the couch. In the hallway, he heard Venice's battle cry again, which meant he either found more bullets or Porsche was screwed.
"This isn't fair! Two on one is against the rules, I don't even have a weapon!" Porsche roared as a bullet hit him between the eyes, nearly dropping his phone.
"One of them has a gun, and the other one seems to have taken the paintballs."
He ducked as Venice jumped over the back of the couch, raising his free hand in time. The cheeky gremlin bounced off the light blow, landed on his feet without being startled. He had a pistol in both hands.
"Accept your defeat," Macau said. "Surrender!"
"Hell, no!" said Porsche, jumping back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Venice preparing for another volley and ducked just in time. "Kinn! "
"Of course, you're just overreacting," Softly laughed in his ear, "they're just kids, Porsche. They want you to play with them, that's a good sign. Macau is a teen, he's just playing along with a child. Didn't you do that when you were a kid?"
"They're not playing!" Porsche nearly tripped over another rug as he strategically backed away to what looked like a bathroom. He dove behind the wall, slamming the door behind him. "They're trying to kill me!"
"Porsche, you're such a drama queen. If it's that bad, why don't you text Pete..."
The sound of the darts hitting the door scared him so much that he dropped his phone. He gave it up to prop the door with another structure, kicking it for good measure.
***
Porsche :
COME HOME
20:34
Porsche:
YOU SAID HE WAS A GOOD KID! YOU'RE A LIAR!!
20:34
Porsche:
WHEN ME AND KINN WILL HAVE KIDS I'M GONNA GET BACK AT YOU FOR THIS! THEY BREAK DOWN THE BATHROOM DOOR!
20:35
Pete leaves a message on delivered and runs his hand across the table. "They're fine, you shouldn't have worried."
Vegas looks less nervous. It was a miracle that he had allowed Porsche to enter minor family's territory at all, let alone look after his only heir.
"Why you insist on torturing this poor man, I don't understand."
"I'm not torturing him, it's just another experience in life," said Pete. He sat back in his chair. "He ate the last cupcake. It had my name on it."
"Oh, honey."
"I don't let things go easy."
***
Porsche didn't know which gods to thank when he found this in a pile of unpleasant things and bathroom ducks. A huge water pistol.
If his ego takes a hit today, so does the Macau heir styling.
***
"Father, the situation is really dire enough to warrant your return..."
Pete held his nose, holding back the urge to sigh,
Venice.
"We're under attack, Father! The war is being fought in the front! We need help!"
"I'm sure you can handle it. You remember what Nodt taught you, right?"
"We already tried to hit him on the head. The operation was unsuccessful, Dad." Venice states.
Pete sighs. "Then just give me Macau."
"Negative. The nanny found a water gun and ruined his hair. Macau is either going to cry or kill the new nanny."
Pete hung up the phone, feeling his lips twitch. The gin and tonic dropped into his hand. He looked up to see Vegas smiling.
“Trouble at home?”
Vegas walked over, giving the other man a place to sit. "Nothing our friend can't handle...for now."
Pete shook his head slowly, taking a sip from his glass.
“This poor, stupid man.”
***
Pete hesitated and opened the back door. Vegas sighed behind him, handing Nodt the bag.
"You left him here all night. Stop hesitating, if we find his mangled body, I can't say I'll be pissed."
"I'm not hesitating," Pete insisted."It's just like the previous babysitter has gone... You remember what happened. Porsche was the best option. Besides, he was guilty."
He opened the door and helped the man in, ears flattened.
Silence.
Pete sighed, raising his hand to his head.
"Porsche, are you alive?"
"…Yeah."
"You hesitated."