Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Panting, Vegas stumbled through his office, tripping over the debris. He could not even recall what had set him off this time. Perhaps it was the quiet. Perhaps it was the dark, setting in and making it that much harder for him to see. 

“Venice!” Vegas screamed. “Turn the goddamn lights up!”

A chirp from the doorway was the reply he got as he was hit with the increased luminosity. It made his head hurt, but at least he could somewhat see. 

Vegas did not thank it as Venice rolled closer. Why should he thank a mindless robot just obeying orders?

There was another melodic chirp as Vegas still managed to trip over some paperwork, almost sending himself sliding. 

“No,” Vegas moaned, but Venice had already answered the call, little traitorous shit that it was. It wasn’t really Venice’s fault. It was programmed to always accept calls from Macau, no matter what. Vegas could still blame it, though. 

“Hia, oh my god,” Macau gasped quietly. “What happened?”

Vegas’s jaw set as he rolled his eyes and made his way to the door, where Venice’s screen was lit up with his little brother’s blurred face. 

“I don’t know,” Vegas said snarkily. “Must have been a tornado.”

He could hear Macau sigh again. 

This scenario was so played out, Vegas had the script memorized. 

“Hia, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Ah, that was what had set him off. Venice had reminded him of the date, and that Macau would be leaving to study abroad in the morning. 

“Don’t,” Vegas snapped, his anger only turned inward. “You need to finish packing. And rest.”

“I’m already packed,” Macau countered. “And it won’t take me long to grab the last stuff. Besides, I’m too anxious to sleep. This will help wear me out.”

“Suit yourself,” Vegas muttered, pushing past Venice as it wheeled around to follow Vegas to his room. “Just make sure you-”

“I know, I know.”

The call ended and Vegas followed the familiar path to his bedroom. The house was large, certainly much larger than he needed, living alone. Regardless of the size, a prison was still a prison, even if his was partially self-imposed. 

Korn had not presented it like a jail, years ago, but he might as well have. No, it was offered as a retreat, a safe space for the broken Theerapanyakul. Vegas knew they were waiting for him to really break, like his mother had, but Vegas was too bitter to give them the satisfaction. 

Besides, there was still Macau. 

Vegas undressed, staring weakly at his shape in the mirror. 

“Venice, go be ready to welcome Macau in.”

A childlike, artificial voice said, “Yes, Boss.”

Vegas started the bath, inhaling the steam while he waited. When the water felt high enough, Vegas climbed in, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the porcelain, which was still cold enough to make him shiver. 

Now that the anger–the fear over the lack of control–had worn off, Vegas was left with the resignation. Macau was leaving. No tantrum of his would, or should, persuade him to stay. And it was a good thing. Really. 

Vegas did not want Macau easily within their uncle’s clutches. Their father had by no means protected them, but at least their father had tried to find use in them. And Vegas had been useful. He had tried to be twice as useful, to spare Macau. He had even managed to hide his symptoms until…

Vegas shook his head, gripping the edge of the tub as he pulled himself below the surface. He held his breath for as long as he could, while his knees grew cold. When his chest burned, Vegas shot up, splashing some water over the side of the tub in the process. Taking gulping breaths, Vegas swiped a hand over his face. 

He curled in on himself, resting his chin on his knee as he wrapped his arms around his legs. 

The speaker beside his bed alerted him from the next room that his front door had been opened. Macau had arrived. 

So Vegas pulled the plug, listening to the tub drain as he toweled off and slipped his robe on. He did not go out to greet Macau. He never did. If he ever had other visitors, he did not greet them, either. 

Vegas did not rush, either way. He knew it would take Macau several minutes to put on the hazmat suit.

The specialist his father had taken him to years ago had told Vegas that he was contagious, unlike how the condition usually presented, a bastardized mutation. Vegas was a danger, especially to Macau, who might also be carrying the gene. He would infect Macau, like their mother had infected him. Worse, Vegas’s twisted mind had also flipped it around. People were a threat to him. He had internalized that to the degree that he could not be around other humans without his breathing going shallow. If they got too close, he would break out into a rash, requiring medication that Venice kept near him at all times. 

He was just meant to be alone until he died alone. Korn had agreed, helping Vegas with his goal of near-total isolation He had been put in that house and as his condition progressed, he was presented with Venice: his Virtual and Emotional Network Intelligence Caretaking Equipment. Macau had named him, wanting his name to be similar to Vegas’s, in the hopes that Vegas would like him more. 

Venice was his main link to the outside world, which namely consisted of his brother. 

Vegas was sitting on the edge of his bed, lost in thought, when Macau knocked on his door. His voice was a little muffled in the suit as he said, “Venice said you were in the bath. You didn’t drown, right?”

He knew Macau was only teasing, trying to break the tension permeating every room of the house, but the joke put a sour taste in Vegas’s mouth. 

“No. But I’ll drown that thing if it keeps tattling on me.”

Macau sounded teasingly defensive as he said, “Hey, be nicer to him!”

“It, Macau. It’s a thing. Stop personifying it.” 

“Stop ignoring his gender expression.”

Vegas rolled his eyes, wanting to (affectionately) strangle his brother. He knew Macau wanted him to bond with the hunk of metal, but the thing was a fancified tablet on treads. Vegas refused to get attached. It was much better for everyone, but especially himself, if he released all hope of any bond of any kind, no matter how much he yearned for genuine connection. 

Besides, Venice could never be the type of connection Vegas ached for when he lay awake in bed at night. He would never press his hands into the flesh of another, leaving a bruise, a mark that he was there, that he existed. He would never steal the breath from another, only to have it stolen right back as he panted and moaned, but that would have to be fine. Vegas would survive.

He heard Macau muttering something to Venice, who was chirping excitedly in response. 

“Hey,” Macau said, loud enough for Vegas to hear. “Don’t forget that Porsche is coming this weekend.”

Falling back onto his mattress, Vegas groaned loud enough to be heard through the door. 

“Stop reminding me.”

“We had a deal, Hia.”

They did. Before Macau could again threaten to cancel his flight, Vegas snapped, “Fine, fine. I’ll honor the deal. But I don’t have to be happy about it.”

“You should be! Arm and I built someone pretty fucking cool for you. And you know I won’t be able to focus on my studies unless I know someone is looking after you.”

“Something,” Vegas muttered under his breath. He knew it was pointless to try and correct Macau. 

If nothing else, at least this whole situation helped Macau find what he was interested in studying from hanging around the family business. Their uncle still controlled most of it, but he had allowed Kinn to take over the branch of science and innovation. They had started to delve into A.I., but their focus had been on robotics, mainly. 

Arm was young but already eccentric, but Kinn had found him at some lecture and snatched him up to work on a secret project. 

A project that Kinn intended on testing on Vegas. 

“I’ll be fine,” Vegas insisted. “Just focus on your classes. And make sure you eat well. I know you get distracted when you get involved in some project.”

“Speaking of which, I already let Je Yok know you’ll be ordering more soon.”

Venice helped Vegas organize grocery deliveries, but he did like to order from Yok’s noodle bar. He didn’t trust most other places, and Porsche used to work there before he became Kinn’s arm candy. He had brought food over often, in his effort to win Vegas’s friendship. Vegas hadn’t been interested, but the noodles had been quite addicting.

He didn’t see Porsche in person often, but Porsche called him enough to make up for it. Vegas wouldn’t call them friends; he didn’t have friends and Porsche was a nuisance. Macau had a crush on Porsche’s little brother, though, so Vegas doubted the man would get out of his life anytime soon, and especially not if Kinn married him. He wasn’t even entirely sure how they had met, but Porsche had taken Vegas on as a sort of project. 

“I’ll go straighten up the study, Hia,” Macau announced. “I’ll be right back. But, Hia, can you try not to smash anything else? At least wait until your new caretaker is here. Better yet, wait until I get home on break.”

Vegas sighed, rolling onto his side. “No promises.”

Macau made a frustrated noise, but Vegas heard his footsteps retreat from his door. A moment later, his automatic door slid open as Venice rolled in with a low whir.

Narrowing his eyes, Vegas said, “I know you messaged Cau, you little snitch.”

Venice trilled, his screen lighting up with an exaggerated, pixelated expression. 

“Boss was breaking things!”

Leaning closer, Vegas hissed, “If you had a neck, I’d strangle it.”

It was bad enough that he was a grown man still throwing tantrums, but then to be ratted out by his supposed helper…

Exhaling, Vegas got up, slipping on some underwear and tightening his robe.

He needed to keep his distance, but he felt guilty about making Macau clean up his mess alone. Besides, he did not know when he would see his little brother again. His break was surely months away.

“Oh,” Macau said, glancing up as Venice rolled into the office with Vegas following in his wake. “I didn’t think you would come out.”

“It’s my mess,” Vegas huffed. “And since I don’t need help, I don’t need that thing after all.”

Macau shook his head. “It’s a state of the art android, Hia. One of a kind.”

“And I’m just a guinea pig for Kinn so he can perfect it and sell a million.”

Vegas did not point out that the family business was what kept him in such a nice house with whatever he needed or wanted, and Macau did not point out that it was also sending him to the best robotics program in the world. Their uncle had said that their father had squandered away his money. He had made some bad investments after losing his wife, then had left his sons to clean up his mess. 

Vegas knew he was supposed to feel grateful to his uncle, and by extension his cousin, but he only resented them. He did not want their pity. 

“You pick up the papers,” Macau said. “I’ll get the rest.”

Vegas nodded, making sure to keep his distance from his brother as he began gathering the records and notes. He would take his time sorting them later. 

“I’ll call you once I get settled in. And I’ll call as often as I can. But make sure you call me when the android is here. I really want to see him in action.”

Vegas had purposely not bothered to learn more about the thing. He had not wanted to see it or really hear anything. He would not accept a human in his space for so much time, so he understood why they all thought he would settle for another robot like Venice. Vegas did not trust people, other than Macau, but he did not want to show his weaknesses to his little brother. He was already putting him at enough risk. 

“Cau, have you seen a doctor recently?”

Macau froze, sighing as he turned to face Vegas. 

He was sweating inside his polymer suit, Vegas was sure, but Macau did not complain. He never would. About anything. It made Vegas worry about him even more.

“I had a full checkup just last week.”

“And?”

Vegas held his breath. He had been younger than Macau when his symptoms started, but he knew that had been unusually early. Their mother had already been in her twenties when she started showing signs. 

“20/20,” Macau said. “Everything looked good.”

Vegas nodded, exhaling slowly. Once he knew Macau was fine, he went back to reaching around the floor, hating how light the carpet was. It made the paper blend in more. 

“I think I got them all,” Macau said easily. “And I’m just about done, too. You didn’t throw as much this time. I’d say that’s a win.” 

Standing, Vegas placed the stack he had in his hands on the desk. 

Vegas could see the curve of Macau’s smile through the plastic visor and huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“At least Venice won’t call you every time this happens anymore. That stupid robot can handle it.”

“Yes,” Macau laughed. “That incredible piece of technology–your Personalized Enrichment Tech 3–can clean up after you while I’m gone. But seriously, Hia, please give him a chance. He’s meant to be a proper companion. No offense, Venice.”

Venice chirped in a way that Vegas assumed meant that none was taken. 

“I don’t need a companion.”

“Well, if you won’t accept one, at least let Venice have a friend.”

The office righted once again, Vegas walked Macau to the door from a comfortable distance. There was an entryway he would have to go in to take off the suit, but before he did, he awkwardly asked Vegas for a hug.

They only hugged on special occasions, namely birthdays, but Vegas knew this was an exception. 

He wrapped around his little brother, who had gotten so big somehow, and sighed.

“I love you, Hia.”

“Same, you brat. Be careful. And just do your best.”

They stayed close as they pulled apart, so Vegas looked as closely as he could, hating that his brother’s face was still hazy around the edges. He knew, though, that it would likely be worse the next time he saw him, so he drank in every detail he could. 

“Get some rest,” Vegas said, patting Macau’s shoulder as he stepped back. 

“I’ll let you know when my plane takes off and lands.”

“Good.”

“Why don’t you order Yok’s tomorrow, to celebrate me leaving the nest?”

“Go home,” Vegas grumbled, nodding. 

With another wave and a smile, Macau left. A few minutes later, Vegas heard the front door shut. 

“Let’s go to bed, Venice,” he muttered. 

Vegas was a little curious about the android, he could not lie. He told himself it was just Macau’s excitement rubbing off on him. Perhaps it would be something he could talk to Macau about on his frequent calls. Vegas would take any topic over himself and how he was(n’t) coping. 

As he crawled into bed, he had Venice turn all the lights off. With a soft chirp, Venice’s screen glowed softly as he backed into his charging station. 

“Well,” Vegas said, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess at least you will have a friend.”

Venice buzzed, and Vegas rolled away onto his side. 

Already, he missed his brother.

Chapter Text

Pete was sweating under his cheap suit. He used to be able to handle the heat better, but living in the city with air conditioning had softened him. He reached for his pack of cigarettes, only to remember he had quit. As much as he wanted to just say fuck it and march into the nearest convenience store for a fresh pack, he could not walk back a promise made to Yaai. 

Pulling out his lightly scratched and outdated phone, Pete called Yaai’s hospital room. 

“Hello?”

Pete swallowed his frustration and put on his best smile, knowing it would carry through his voice. “It’s me, Yaai.”

“Are you on your lunch break?”

Pete hummed, glancing up at the shiny, modern office building he had just stepped out of. 

“Yep.”

“So late! Heoi!”

“I, uh, got held up in a meeting. Are you doing okay? I should be able to visit you soon.”

“Oh, yeah. Me and Pim are going to play poker later with the next room. You just take care of yourself and eat something good.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Pete nodded. 

“I will, Yaai. I should go.”

Rather than hang up, Pete hummed as Yaai said a few more things. He could not open his mouth to speak, fearing he would burst into humiliated tears. When they finally hung up, Pete found a cheap noodle stand. After he ate, he took the bus back to his dingy apartment to change so he could hit the gym before his shift at Yok’s. 

He had only been at the punching bag a few minutes when he heard his name. Steadying the bag, Pete turned to greet Porsche. 

“You asshole,” Porsche yelled, his designer gym bag slung over his shoulder. “You should have called me if you were coming to the gym. I never see you anymore.”

Pete held his tongue, even as he wanted to argue that he had not been the one who had changed. They had met at Yok’s in their third year of college, but in the last year, Porsche had landed himself a rich man. It had surprised them both, since neither of them had known that Porsche was also into men. It did put some drunken, almost kisses into a fresh light, in hindsight. 

Pete was happy for his friend, truly, but he also couldn’t help but feel like he had lost him, too. 

“It was a last minute decision,” Pete lied. “Yaai was busy setting up poker games, so I figured I should fit in a quick workout. Her and her roommate have been chatting with the widowers in the next room.”

Porsche laughed, throwing a towel over his shoulder. 

“What about you? You hitting on any guys, widower or otherwise?”

Pete scoffed, thinking back to the last time he tried hooking up with someone from a dating app. The guy had been nice, but that wasn’t exactly the vibe Pete was craving. He wanted someone to boss him around, to take the lead. He wanted someone to take what they wanted from him, to use him for their pleasure. He knew a first date wouldn’t tell him much, but he had pretty much decided to give up trying. He had other things to worry about that took precedence over getting his dick wet. 

“You working a shift at Yok’s tonight?”

Pete nodded, taking a sip from his water bottle. 

“Hey, how’s the job search going?”

Pete winced. Even though Porsche was distracted, fiddling with the weight machine, Pete still worked quickly to regain his composure. 

“That bad, huh?” Porsche asked quietly, taking his non-answer for what it was. 

“It’s a rough market,” Pete explained, giving the excuse he always gave himself with each rejection. It was much easier than admitting that he just wasn’t good enough, that no one wanted or needed him. 

“Come work at Kinn’s company. I’m sure he can find a spot for you.”

A wave of nausea rolled through Pete. He did not want charity, no matter how desperate he felt. Even if he was struggling, he still had his pride. 

“Isn’t it a tech company?”

“Mostly, yeah,” Porsche shrugged. “But I’m sure there’s like a design team and stuff. Let me talk to him. Show him your portfolio. I’m sure he will know where he can use you. Who knows, maybe you can design his brother’s next album cover or something.”

The corner of Pete’s mouth curved down. 

“Doesn’t Arm still work for Kinn?”

Porsche’s eyes flew to the wall, as if something wildly interesting were happening over there. 

“You probably wouldn’t see him,” Porsche said quickly, his attention returning as he waved his hand. They had met Arm in their senior year at a party that Porsche had dragged Pete to. They had gone on a couple of dates, but Pete just hadn’t felt that spark he was looking for. Arm hadn’t taken the news well, crying on the sidewalk outside of Yok’s while Pete tried to cover his face, mortified at the attention from passersby. According to Porsche, Arm had never really gotten over Pete, although he had not elaborated on what that meant. 

Pete sighed. “I don’t want to kick that mess up again.” Glancing at the clock on the wall, Pete realized he was going to be late for his shift if he didn’t leave soon. “Hey, man, I gotta head out. It was good seeing you.”

“Think about the offer,” Porsche begged. “And tell Yaai I said hi. Call me when you’re free to grab a drink. I miss you.”

“I will,” Pete replied, not indicating which thing he was agreeing to. He knew Porsche would get distracted again, soon enough. 

Pete showered quickly and changed into his work uniform of a white shirt and jeans. His jacket with the restaurant logo was in his locker there, which was fine by him as it was still blisteringly hot. 

Yok greeted him with a wide smile as Pete entered through the back. Pete knew that business was good, which meant he would be exhausted by the end of the night. That was probably a good thing, though. It might at least keep his mind off getting rejected once again from a potential career. 

The night flew by quickly, with Pete helping bus tables in between delivery orders when the other drivers were gone. He had just returned from the bathroom when he found the newest, younger delivery drivers bickering. 

“You go!”

“Hell no, it’s your turn!”

They spun around to see Pete, and they both pounced as one. 

“P’Pete, can you take this order?”

Pete frowned. “Why don’t you guys want it?”

“It’s out in the middle of nowhere. And the house is creepy, Phi. I think it’s haunted.”

“By a ghost who eats noodles?” Pete asked, checking the order ticket. “They’ve not even spicy. This is the most basic order I’ve ever seen.”

“Please, Phi,” the youngest whined. “I hate going.”

Pete glanced at the clock. It was almost time for his shift to end, but this order would put him past that time. 

“Are you going to help clean up? I’ll go if you guys clean the bathrooms for the next month.”

Both kids nodded emphatically, which made Pete even more curious about this delivery. 

With a resigned sigh, Pete said, “Tell Je I’ll just go home right after. I’ll return my bike tomorrow.”

The kids gave twin sighs of relief. Pete didn’t have time to worry about why they had put up such a fuss. As he hopped on his bike, putting the address into his phone, Pete wondered why the hell Yok accepted orders so far out. It was unusual, but the other drivers made it seem like it was a frequent enough occurrence that even they had a history in their six or so months of working there. Perhaps Pete had just been lucky so far. He was quick, so Yok kept him close for the locals and regulars. 

The traffic thinned out and all but dissipated as Pete left the city limits. The food was bound to be cold, so why the hell did this guy insist on ordering from Yok’s?

The GPS turned him onto a dark, paved road, surrounded by trees, and Pete began to have second thoughts about the ghost theory. Ghosts had always been more of a Porsche problem, though. Pete had dealt with enough horrors in his life that he didn’t need the actual supernatural. 

He glanced at his phone when he reached a large iron gate, but he was still on the right path. Finding a speaker, Pete pushed the button, lifting the helmet visor that had protected his eyes from the wind. 

There was a click, but nothing else, so Pete called out, “Hello?”

“Who are you?” A sharp voice snapped, making Pete bristle and tense immediately. 

Crossing his arms, he replied, “I have a delivery from Yok’s. If you don’t want it, I can go home.”

There was a pause, and then the voice at the gate said, “You don’t have to be so rude,” and the gate swung open. 

Pete’s mouth fell open, and he had half a mind to just toss the bag of cold noodles into the woods out of spite. 

Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. He really needed this job. It was all he had left. He just made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t take any future orders this far out. He didn’t care about ghosts, but this guy seemed intolerable. 

Pete kicked off the ground, hurrying through the gate before it closed on him. The house–the mansion, holy shit–was magnificent, even in the dark, with a wide, circular drive with a large fountain in the middle. 

Parking his bike, Pete left his helmet on and grabbed the bag of noodles from the insulated carrier, surprised to find them still lukewarm. 

Judging from the size of the place, he expected a butler or something to answer the door. Who was the grumpy guy who lived here? Bruce Wayne?

When he knocked, he only waited a few moments before he heard the automatic lock disengage. Fancy. 

Pete stepped into the entryway and let out a sharp yell when he saw what looked like white fabric floating. No wonder they thought there was a ghost. When Pete looked closer, he saw there was a short rack of what looked like biohazard suits. 

What the hell?

A speaker crackled from above him, making him jolt as the same voice said, “Hang the bag on the doorknob.”

Pete sighed, but moved to do as asked. He was so thrown off by everything that he had already half-stepped out the door again before he realized he forgot to ask if the guy wanted any extra sauce packets. Yok would never let him hear the end of it if he got a complaint. Shutting the door again, he turned back to the second door. He was halfway to it when it opened, and the most absurdly, obnoxiously handsome man Pete had ever seen stepped through in a loose silk robe to collect the bag. 

It took all but a half second for the man to realize Pete was there. He dropped the bag of noodles, backing up so quickly that he tripped over his own ankle. 

“G-get back!” the man yelled. 

Pete narrowed his eyes. He hadn’t moved, but the man was panicking. He didn’t look well, not at all, and Pete didn’t feel right leaving him in that state, even if he was an asshole. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Pete said calmly, holding up his hands. “I just brought the food, but do you need me to call someone?” The man’s face was flushed, his eyes wide. Pete’s phone was still with his bike, but surely this guy had a phone. 

The man looked like he was trying to speak, but he was gasping, like he couldn’t get enough air. As Pete stepped closer, he saw the man’s chest, where the robe had fallen open, turning a splotchy crimson, like he was having some sort of reaction. 

“Oh, shit,” Pete exclaimed. “Do you have an Epi-pen or something you need?”

The man tried to nod, calling out, “Hedgehog!” while he looked like he was seconds away from losing consciousness. 

Pete heard a whir and a melodic chirp, and a small robot with wide tread spun around the corner. A drawer popped out of the robot’s base compartment. Inside, Pete saw a syringe. The man scrambled, but his fingers could only claw at the carpet, uncoordinated. 

“Is this what you need?” Pete asked, trying to keep as calm as possible. 

The man nodded, still gasping, so Pete grabbed the syringe and uncapped it. There was a push button at the bottom of the plunger, so it seemed pretty straightforward. 

“Uh, where?” Pete asked, trying not to stare too long when the man uncovered a milky, toned thigh. “Okay,” Pete said, taking a deep breath. “This might pinch.” 

Pressing the needle into the man’s thigh, Pete pushed the button, deploying the serum. The syringe clicked after a couple of seconds, and the man sucked in a breath. 

He was flat on his back, his chest heaving. He looked clammy. 

Pete just sat back on his knees, not wanting to leave until he made sure the man was alright. 

Finally, the man shakily sat up, putting his face inches from Pete’s. His eyes were dark, seemingly bottomless, and they pulled Pete in, even as the man’s full mouth twisted into a sneer. 

“You’re not one of the usuals,” the man complained. 

“No, but-”

“They know to leave the food at the door.”

Pete frowned, but the man couldn’t see that with his face covered, not that he was really looking at Pete, anyway. 

Pete could not explain why, but he wanted the man to look at him. 

“Should I call someone? An ambulance? I don’t want to just-”

“Leave,” the man snapped, getting to his feet. “Tell Yok to only send me someone who can handle basic instructions.”

“Hey-” Pete exclaimed, getting up as his irritation returned. The man was perhaps just slightly shorter than Pete, but currently he seemed the perfect height to punch. It had been a while since Pete had really hit someone, and his knuckles suddenly itched. 

Regardless of how attractive this man was, sweeping his thick dark hair out of his face as he huffed at Pete, Pete wanted to throttle him. 

“Better yet,” the man continued, stepping forward to make Pete back up toward the door, “I’ll just tell Yok to fire you for almost killing a customer. If I tell a journalist about this, what do you think will happen to you?”

What an arrogant asshole. 

“As if I’d ever accept an order again all the way out in fuck-knows-where,” Pete yelled. “I don’t know what your problem is, but I hope you choke on those noodles.”

Pete stormed out, certain that he was not going back to a job. Since he was certain that he was going to be fired, he hopped on his bike and flipped off the house before hurrying out of there, almost too quickly for the gate to automatically open as he approached. 

Pete fumed, muttering to himself all the way back to the city. Instead of going home, he returned the bike and jacket to Yok’s. 

“Pete?” Yok called as he stomped over to her. “I thought you left for the night. I was about to lock up.”

“I did. I am.” Pete sucked in much-needed air and said, “I quit.”

Pete truthfully only worked there part-time as it was. He just needed to cut the umbilical cord, though. Yok always helped him out in a pinch when she could, but Pete was getting tangled in his safety net. He needed to just get his shit together. 

Without another word, he went home and promptly got wasted, hoping that his job interview on Friday went better than all the others. 

Chapter Text

Vegas sat on the floor, feeling shaky from the medicine and the adrenaline crash. Venice had retrieved the bag of noodles, which had miraculously not split open, but Vegas made no move to take them. His mind and heart were still racing. 

He went through the events as best as he could remember. The man had been wearing a helmet over his face, leaving only his eyes–those two bewitchingly warm orbs–exposed. He had been wearing a jacket and gloves. It was not a hazmat suit by any means, but it was better than exposed skin. 

Vegas glanced down, turning red at the amount of skin he had exposed. Vegas was confident in his body, and sometimes even wandered around in the nude, but he had not shown off to anyone other than a doctor in quite some time. Even the last doctor he had agreed to see in person had been years ago. He could not risk having a reaction, not in a crowded hospital. 

But what was he to do about the driver? Vegas had not seen a phone in his hand, so he did not think he had taken pictures. Vegas thought about his threat to have the man fired. Now that he had calmed down a little, he could see that he might have overreacted. The man was not familiar in the least. Likely, the usual guys hadn’t told him the protocol. Besides, he had saved Vegas’s life, ultimately. He could have left, but he stayed. He helped. 

Then, Vegas had chased him off like the asshole he was. 

Venice’s screen lit up as a call was trying to come through. 

Porsche. 

As much as Vegas wanted to ignore it, he knew that Macau had designated Porsche the emergency contact while he was in school, and he didn’t want to worry his brother. 

“Answer, Venice,” Vegas croaked, clearing his throat. 

“I got a ping that your medicine was deployed,” Porsche cut straight to the point. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Vegas assured him, standing to toss the noodles in the trash while Venice trailed after him. “The delivery guy just got a little too close, but I got my shot so I’m fine now.”

Porsche sighed, sounding tired. Vegas hoped he had woken him up. 

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I am. I know my body.” Vegas paused on the way to his bedroom, turning back to the screen to say, “And don’t tell Macau. He just left and I don’t need him to worry before he even gets settled in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Porsche said, humor starting to color his voice. “I’ll keep it between us friends.”

With a scoff, Vegas bent to end the call. 

He lay awake in bed for hours, just thinking about those eyes. 

Venice woke him up in the morning with a call from Macau.

“Bro,” Macau sighed, sounding exhausted. Vegas could hear a cacophony of voices and other sounds in the background. “I finally landed. Now I just need to get a taxi to my dorm.”

Vegas yawned, fluffing up his pillow before crashing back onto it. With a slow, heavy blink, he asked, “What took so long?”

As if he hadn’t memorized Macau’s travel itinerary. 

“My layovers lasted hours. But at least it let me charge my devices and sit down to eat a real meal.”

The noise from the traffic got so much louder as Vegas imagined Macau stepping out of the airport. Macau quickly said, “I’ll call you later, once I’m settled in. Don’t forget Porsche and Arm are coming over Friday night with your new friend.”

Vegas grunted. He wanted to argue that the android was technically the property of Theerapanyakul Industries, and he was merely the first test subject, but he kept it to himself. 

No, instead of being grumpy, he told his little brother to be safe, and left him to navigate the big, wide world on his own. 

It would be a lie, if Vegas claimed to not be anxious about Macau, but it would also be incorrect to say that a small part of him was also a little bit relieved. Macau would not be easily accessible to their uncle, but more importantly, he was safe from Vegas potentially infecting him. 

Vegas let himself laze around for a few more minutes, but only succeeded in thinking about those eyes again. The man’s hands had felt large, wrapped around his thigh to hold him still for the injection, and Vegas found himself wishing the man hadn’t been wearing those thick gloves. He wondered if his hands were warm. With a heavy sigh, he got up and into the shower. With Venice playing the news for him, Vegas got dressed and made his way to the kitchen to make breakfast.

Eating made him think of the noodles he hadn’t gotten to eat, which only reminded him once again of those goddamn eyes.

It was late when Macau finally called him again. For several minutes, Macau described his room and the campus. 

“You okay?” Macau asked. “You seem distracted, Hia. Unless I’m boring you.”

Vegas frowned. “Brat. It’s just late here. Do you think it’s too late to order Yok’s?”

“I think she's about to close. They won’t come out.”

“You’re right. Now what were you saying about the library?”

“That it’s massive, but I can tell you more another day. It’s late. You should get some sleep.”

Vegas hated to agree, but he was feeling rather tired. Briefly, he wondered if he should mention the incident with the delivery driver to his brother, despite warning Porsche against it, but he really didn’t want him to worry. He was fine. Before he could change his mind, someone called Macau’s name. 

“You go have fun.”

“And you get some sleep.”

The next day, after pacing through every square meter of his home, Vegas ordered noodles. 

Then, he paced even faster while he waited for them to arrive. He wasn’t even sure of what he wanted. To apologize? To thank him? Finally, the gate buzzed, and Vegas told Venice to open it as, fully dressed, he also donned a face mask and gloves. He didn’t expect a repeat of Monday’s incident, but at least he was prepared. 

When the anticipated knock on the door came, Vegas’s fingers flexed on the inner door handle. As Venice let them in, he took a deep breath. As soon as there was the knock, Vegas opened the door, finding his bag of noodles hanging as he always directed. The delivery driver swung around. He was scrawny. Shorter. It wasn’t him. 

“Sorry!” the kid yelped. 

Before he could hurry away, Vegas said, “Send the other guy next time.”

“Yes, sir,” came the clipped reply. The kid turned to rush back to his bike, taking a few tries to get the kickstand up in his hurry. 

Although Vegas preferred his noodles fairly plain, he could hardly taste anything at all, so distracted was he. He knew he should just give up. He wasn’t even sure what he expected to get out of this. It wasn’t as if he could get close to the guy. 

One more time. He would try one more time, then he would give in to his fate. 

The next night, Vegas hovered by the door again, waiting, feeling like he had laid a trap. In a way, he supposed he had. The gate opened, then the first door, and Vegas barely waited for the knock on the second door before he flung it open, jumping back as the delivery guy screamed at the sight of Vegas in a biohazard suit. The driver was tall enough, but heavier. It wasn’t him. 

“Are there any other drivers?” Vegas snapped. 

“N-n-no, sir. The other guy quit.”

Vegas sighed, taking his noodles. Slowly, he removed the suit, feeling dejected. 

With his noodles in hand, Vegas shuffled over to the table, where he had a plate already waiting for him. Venice followed, his tread whirring across the floor quietly as he chirped sadly. 

Vegas stared at his food, trying to distinguish one noodle from another in the dim light and failing, when he yelled, “Fuck! I should have at least asked the guy’s fucking name!” 

Dropping his head in his hands, Vegas just breathed for a moment. It was fine. The universe was telling him it was not meant to be. Not that it could have been anything. Vegas was bored, with Macau gone. That was all. Nothing more. 

“It’s fine,” Vegas said, picking up his fork. “Soon you will have a new friend, Venice. And I will have a new pet. We will be fine.”

“Yes, Boss!” Venice trilled, his screen showing pulsing heart eyes. 

“Actually, call Arm.”

Vegas took a bite of his food while the call rang. Arm never picked up quickly. 

“Khun Vegas,” Arm said suddenly, sounding out of breath. “Is everything alright with Venice?”

Vegas glanced at the little bot. “He seems fine.”

“Then, you’re calling about-”

“Will everything be ready tomorrow night?”

“Y-yes, Khun Vegas,” Arm stammered, pressing his face as close to the camera as he could. It was something Vegas would never admit he was grateful for. It wasn’t that he disliked Arm, per se, since Macau liked him well enough. Being able to see detailed expressions clearly was something Vegas did miss. 

Glancing over his shoulder, Arm yelled for his lanky assistant. “Pol! Khun Vegas is on the phone. Let’s show him.”

The camera shook as Vegas took another slow bite, hoping the move came off as disinterested. He had never cared to see the android before. He had actively avoided it, actually. Macau always said he was cute, so Vegas had imagined some kind of pixie twink or something. 

As the camera was pushed closer, Vegas could make out what looked like a sleeping man. Arm dragged the camera close to the figure’s face, letting it rove over the android’s face, and Vegas saw that he had an upturned nose and bow-shaped lips. His hair looked soft framing his face.

“That’s a man,” Vegas gasped, in disbelief.

Arm’s face reappeared. “He’s supposed to look and feel as realistic as possible. But he has a titanium skeleton and-”

Vegas waved a hand. He wasn’t as interested in the metal guts and gears as his brother was. 

“See?” Pol said, pushing a series of hidden points to unlock the droid to access its innards. It looked clean, neat, with blue lights flashing around pulsing organ-like structures. “He’s charging, Khun Vegas.”

A flash of red caught Vegas’s attention before the camera was yanked back to show Arm’s face. 

“We should get back to it,” Arm said. “And we shouldn’t keep you from your dinner. See you tomorrow, Khun Vegas.”

Vegas nodded, and the call ended.

He sat with his arms crossed for a few minutes as he thought. Macau had been so focused on the android for months, spending much of his free time in Arm’s lab. Vegas had been forced to listen about the whole process, but it was still strange to be presented with the reality of it. 

Everything had felt so rushed, with Macau going off to school, but Porsche would also call him, as if they were friends, to complain about how much Kinn needed this project to succeed. His father was pressuring him for something they could corner the market with, and wasn’t it convenient that Vegas had nothing better to do than test it out? As if Vegas didn't help on the back end, going through reports and meeting notes to present Kinn with more efficient solutions to what he was doing. 

He finished eating, then got up to wash his plate, thinking that he would have a new distraction soon enough. Hopefully it would work. 

The next morning, Vegas was awoken by Porsche calling him. He groaned, burying his face in his pillow. 

The call kept ringing, so Vegas waved a hand. 

“Answer it, Venice.”

The bot chirped, then Vegas heard Porsche’s obnoxiously chipper voice, sounding much too loud, as usual. 

“Good morning, pal!”

“We’re not friends,” Vegas grouchily reminded him. “You’re just fucking my cousin.”

“Hey!” Porsche protested. “Macau is practically my brother-in-law, so that makes us family.”

Vegas rolled his eyes at the ceiling but couldn’t argue. Macau was quite smitten with the little dork, Chay, for reasons Vegas could not fathom. 

“Why are you calling me so early?”

“Well,” Porsche drawled, sounding suddenly evasive. “Arm called me last night. Are you still set on tonight?”

Narrowing his eyes, Vegas turned to study Venice’s monitor. Porsche had deliberately angled the phone so that most of his face was hidden. 

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Kinn’s voice cut in as he snatched the phone while Porsche protested. “Everything’s on track, we just wanted to see if you were ready.”

Something was off, judging from the curtness of Kinn’s tone and how visually evasive Porsche bad been, but Vegas did not care enough about either of them to pry. 

“What time should I expect you?”

“We’ll be there at six.”

“Fine.” Reaching out, Vegas pressed the large red dot on the screen to end the call. 

That gave Vegas entirely too much time to wander around the house, tidying up bits and bobs as he failed to tamp down his restless energy.

He thought he was just anxious about having someone in his home, as usual, but there was something more surfacing as the day dragged on. 

Thinking perhaps that he was just pent up, Vegas left Venice chirping dejectedly in the hallway and shut himself in his room. 

Reclining on his bed, Vegas grabbed the lube from the bedside drawer, along with the tablet he used to watch porn. The tablet which hadn’t been charged, apparently. Not wanting to wait, Vegas plugged it in, then opened his robe and slid his briefs down. He could at least get started on his own. 

He began by running his hands lightly over his chest, his thighs. Closing his eyes helped him imagine it was someone else touching him, that he was touching someone else.

As his excitement and anticipation built, Vegas began to palm himself, adding more and more pressure. Pouring some lube into his palm, Vegas began to stroke along his length. The image of the android entered his mind. It certainly was pretty, but it was lifeless. Vegas tried to latch onto something else, but his mind only dragged him once more to those large, dark eyes in a face otherwise obscured by a shiny helmet. 

Sliding further down into the bed, Vegas let himself go back to picturing that night, but without the haze of fear and anxiety. He let himself imagine the delivery driver had come to him, simply because he wanted him. Vegas clutched at his spread open thigh, remembering the secure feel of the man’s gloved hands on him. The man loomed over him, pinning him in place, and Vegas’s hand sped up on his cock. 

The man’s eyes had stared into his, and Vegas wanted to see the rest of him. He seemed fit, strong. In his fantasy, Vegas panted, spreading his legs wider as the man crawled between them. 

Vegas let his other hand gather the mess of lubricant and drag lower, past his balls to tease his perineum for a moment before finding his puckered rim. Would the man be gentle?

He remembered how concerned the man had been when giving Vegas his injection, and knew he would be gentle, caring. He would prep Vegas well–would take his time. Vegas pressed a finger into himself, thumbing over the head of his cock at the same time. What would the man’s mouth be like?

Vegas’s chest heaved as, in his fantasy, he reached for the man’s helmet, desperate to yank it off. He needed to see his face. He imagined the man, panting and desperate for him, as he finally managed to take the cumbersome thing off. His face was nothing but a blur in Vegas’s mind’s eye as he came messily in his hand. 

Licking his lips, Vegas blinked up at his ceiling as he caught his breath. Having found his release, Vegas scowled. 

He really needed to forget about that man. 

Chapter Text

Pete tried to straighten his tie in the elevator’s reflective wall but only managed to drop his papers. Cursing under his breath, he bent down to pick everything up just as the doors opened on the floor he needed. A handful of office workers rushed in, stepping on his papers, and the doors were closed again by the time Pete managed to stand in the crowded space. He was already running late, having missed his bus, and the elevator was still going up, so he squeezed himself out at the next stop and hurriedly found the nearest stairwell. His dress shoes almost slipped several times as he nearly floated down three flights of stairs. 

Finally, he made it to the correct office and let the secretary know he was there for his interview. She pursed her lips, picking up the phone to call someone. Glancing at the massive clock on the wall, Pete winced. He was more than fifteen minutes late, not the best first impression. 

Pete did not let himself sit while he waited. It would be too embarrassing to get back up if they just asked him to leave. He was still sweating, despite the air conditioning, when a man in a crisp navy suit finally came to fetch him. 

Internally, he battled over apologizing for being late and wondering if he should just not acknowledge it and hope they wouldn’t notice. They probably didn’t care to hear his excuses, anyway. 

There was a three-person panel, two women and a man, that Pete was offered a seat across from. He greeted them politely, giving his best grin, and they all returned shallow smiles.

They started with the usual: what was his experience, why did he want to work for them, what were his strengths and weaknesses?

Pete answered everything just how he had meticulously rehearsed. 

When they asked to see his work, Pete handed over his portfolio with a little hum. He had picked his best pieces, of course, and ones that showed his range. They did not comment as they looked at them, their expressions unreadable, and Pete found himself reaching for the previously offered water bottle, grateful for something to do. 

Finished, the panel exchanged furtive glances, then the woman in the center nodded at Pete, sliding his portfolio across the table back to him. 

“How proficient are you with computers?”

Pete swallowed. “I would say I’m definitely comfortable. I’m quick to learn new software and databases.”

We are looking for someone to help us expand our use of A.I. We already use it in our technical writing, but we want to use it more for design, as well.”

Pete glanced down at his hands. It was the same thing, every time. They did not want his talent, his human touch. They wanted him to feed their machine, thus making himself obsolete. 

“I don’t think we can call what those machines create art,” Pete murmured. “No offense.”

The man glanced over at the woman, eyes wide, and said, “Perhaps not, but we care about what is marketability, at the end of the day.”

Of course. Business was business. 

Pete stood up, raising his gaze at the last minute. 

“Perhaps you are just not a great fit for us,” the woman said, unnecessarily. 

Pete could only nod and thank them for their time as he stumbled out of the office. The traffic was overstimulating, the sun was hot, and Pete just wanted everything to fucking stop, at least for a little while, so he could just breathe a moment. 

His phone buzzed. It was the hospital, so he answered it quickly, his heart leaping into his throat. Moments later, he exhaled. Yaai was fine. It had just been the billing department calling him again. Pete didn’t need to check his bank account to know that he didn’t have the money, but he still promised to send the payment soon. 

Pete trudged back to his apartment, where he had a good cry in the shower. He was zoning out on the sofa when his phone rang again. This time it was Porsche. 

“What?” Pete deadpanned. 

“Pete? I need you. It’s an emergency.”

Immediately, Pete sat up, gripping the back of the couch as he asked Porsche what was going on. 

“I can’t explain over the phone. I’ll send you an address. Just get here as soon as you can. Alone.”

Pete swallowed, nodding as he agreed. Porsche sounded panicked, and he usually downplayed his problems, so Pete knew Porsche had to be desperate. Had that rich boyfriend of his done something? Pete would kill the fucker.

Stomping into his shoes, Pete grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet, and grabbed the first tuk-tuk he saw, giving them the address Porsche had shared. Pete chewed his thumbnail as they wound down side streets, stopping in front of an abandoned-looking warehouse. Pete paid the man, not waiting to watch him leave before he was pounding on the first door he found. 

“Thank god.” Porsche opened the door moments later and exhaled as he pulled Pete into the dark hallway. 

“What’s going on? Do we have to fight, or-”

Porsche laughed, confusing Pete and annoying him slightly. 

“No fighting. Probably. No, I have a job for you.”

“Porsche-”

“It’s a legitimate one. One that only you are qualified for, but I need you to promise not to freak out.”

Pete cocked his head to the side, confused but equally intrigued. Porsche had often gotten Pete into trouble with the weird situations he found himself in, but they were always at least interesting. 

“You remember those acting classes we took?”

It was Pete’s turn to huff out a laugh. “Yes. You wanted to be a stunt double.”

“Well,” Porsche said, stopping in front of a windowless metal door. “We need you to act. As a double.”

Porsche opened the door to some sort of cluttered laboratory. Through the mass of tangled wires and machine parts, Pete’s eyes quickly landed on Arm, though, standing in front of a screen in a white lab coat. 

“Porsche…” Pete complained. 

Just then, Porsche’s boyfriend stepped out of the shadows, his suit jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up. Pete hadn’t properly met him before–Porsche said he was always busy–but Pete had seen pictures on Porsche’s social media. 

“Oh, yeah,” Kinn exclaimed, moving closer to Pete. “He really does look just like it.”

Pete turned to Porsche, cocking an eyebrow as he waited for an explanation. 

Arm’s gaze was lowered as he cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up his nose, looking nervous. 

“We really need you, Pete. Please hear us out.”

“I’ll pay you 600,000 Baht,” Kinn blurted.

Pete’s eyes went wide. “Do you want me to kill someone or something?” 

That amount was insane, whatever they were asking. 

“The opposite,” Kinn said. “I want to hire you as my cousin’s caretaker and companion. The contract is three months, but it might need to be extended.”

“I’ve never worked as a caretaker,” Pete said simply. 

Stepping forward, Porsche crossed his arms over his chest, looking determined. 

“You’ve taken care of Yaai most of your life.”

Pete met all of their eyes. There was something they weren’t telling him. 

“What’s the catch?”

Arm looked at Kinn, who nodded. 

“Follow me,” Arm sighed. 

Pete waited for Porsche to start moving before he followed Arm around the corner to a larger section of the space. There, in the center, lay…Pete.

It looked like him, but it was hooked up to cables and lights, lifeless.

Pete took a step back. 

“What the fuck?”

This is why you’re the only person I can ask, Pete,” Porsche said. “Arm made his android look like you, so-”

Pete didn’t wait for him to finish before rushing over and punching Arm on the jaw. Arm hissed in pain, but as he righted himself, he only said, “I deserved that.”

“Why the fuck did you make a doll that looks like me?”

“Because!” Arm shouted, startling Pete quiet. Lowering his voice, Arm admitted, “Because you’re the kindest person I know. And he’s not a doll. He’s so much more…”

Pete’s mouth fell open. He needed to get out of there. It was too insane to even contemplate. 

“Porsche, I can’t-”

“I’ll pay double,” Kinn interjected, stopping Pete in his tracks. 

With that kind of money, Pete could live comfortably for a long while, even after paying off his debts and the hospital. He could give Yaai the life she deserved, for the little remaining time she had left. He wouldn’t have to stress so much about finding a job. He could even work on his art for a time, without feeling guilty about it. 

Keeping his voice steady, Pete glared at Porsche as he asked, “Just what am I expected to do?”

A teenager appeared then, followed by a tall man, also in a lab coat. Each of them carried bags of what looked like takeout.

“We want you to just spend time with my brother.”

Pete’s head was spinning. He could feel the initial pounding of a headache. 

“I brought lunch,” the kid said with a smile. “Let’s sit and talk while we eat.”

Pete’s stomach growled, so he reluctantly agreed. He knew he was dangerously close to accepting the offer–he would be crazy not to for that money–but he needed to know more about it first. Within minutes, the entire group had gathered at a table messy with old coffee cups and paperwork. 

“My name’s Macau. Behind us is the android Arm and Pol made for my brother, P’Pete. He’s called Personalized Enrichment Tech 3. PET3 for short, like your name.”

Pete blinked at the machinery that resembled him before taking the plate Porsche offered him. 

“There is a fault,” Arm said. “And the part we need to replace the broken piece won’t be here for at least two months. If you stay for three, we should have time to correct it and test PET3 out.”

“So,” Pete asked, “Why not just tell this guy that his robot needs more time? Why not have someone else take care of him in the meantime?”

“He’s…he’s not good with people,” Macau mumbled carefully. “He can’t be around them, really. Us.”

“But I’m not a robot,” Pete countered. “Not any more than you.”

“It’s mental,” Kinn sighed. “Psychosomatic. But we can’t get him out of the house to see a doctor to work on it. We're running more than one experiment at once, here.”

Staring at the android, Pete nodded. It gave him the creeps. 

“So you built him a robot?”

“In short, yes,” Macau said. “Although I only helped a little. Hia thinks I’m studying abroad, but I’m taking my first semester online. I wanted to make sure I was close if he needed me.” Lowering his voice, Macau leaned a little closer to Pete. “To be honest, P’Pete, Hia isn’t the easiest person to be around.”

Kinn scoffed, and Pete turned to glare at him, thinking he was being rude to the kid. 

“Macau is being kind, speaking as the only person Vegas even remotely likes.”

“Hey,” Porsche protested, his mouth full of food. “Vegas likes me.”

Kinn gave him a patient look, patting Porsche’s head fondly as he said, “Of course, honey.”

It was Macau’s turn to scoff. “I’ll admit it. He takes a while to warm up to people. But that’s just it. You aren’t a person. Well, he’s not.” Macau nodded in the android’s direction with a soft smile. “Hia doesn’t like depending on people. He hates asking for help, even when he needs it. I think it’ll be easier for him to bond with someone less human.”

Putting aside the…insanity of it all…Pete was getting curious about this person. 

“What does he need help with?” Pete asked, and Macau beamed. He was a cute kid. 

He pulled out his phone, searching for a moment before handing it over to Pete. On the screen, Pete saw what he would have best described as a shining galaxy with branching veins curled around and over it. 

“What’s this?”

“Hia has BCD. Bietti Crystalline Dystrophy. Our Mae had it, too.”

“Is it curable?” Pete asked, lost in the image.

“There’s a possible treatment, but Hia won’t see a doctor. Not for years, when he last saw a specialist in Taiwan. It’s rare, so it’s hard to find people.”

“But what about your Mae?”

Macau glanced away. “She’s gone.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Hia’s sight is getting worse. I at least want to convince him to see a doctor, but with his fear of people, it’s nearly impossible.”

Pete swallowed. “And you think I can convince him?”

“I’ll try anything,” Macau sighed, the vulnerable desperation in his eyes tugging at Pete’s heart.

Pete focused on his plate for a moment, even though he had mostly lost his appetite. He could really use the money, and it wouldn’t be a handout. Pete really was the only person they could ask. They needed him. More than that, Pete thought about Yaai. He would do anything to get her the help and care she needed. He could sense the same feeling from Macau.

Turning to Porsche, Pete sighed and asked, “How do we know it’ll work? Won’t he be suspicious?”

“Yes!” Porsche cheered, clapping his hands together. “Pete’s on board!”

“I didn’t say that,” Pete groaned. “I just don’t think it’ll work.”

Arm cleared his throat, getting Pete’s attention. 

“Khun Vegas hasn’t seen my creation in person. Only on a screen, briefly. As Khun Macau said, his vision is not the clearest. And we’ve told him how realistic and lifelike he–you–are. You’re meant to be as human as possible, to help him reconnect with the world he shuns.”

Pete narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms as he looked at Kinn. 

“And I suppose you invested in this out of the kindness of your heart? To help your cousin?”

Kinn coughed, covering his mouth with a napkin. “Partly. But my father’s company is eager for the successful launch. If we can make this work, we can help so many people.”

Pete didn’t buy the altruistic angle for a second. People like Kinn operated through potential currency over morals. 

“And you’ll pay me at once?”

“As soon as you agree and sign the NDA.”

“Let me meet him first,” Pete insisted. “If he suspects me, the game is over anyway. And that way I can decline if he and I aren’t…compatible.”

Pete wanted to say something more colorful, but he was trying to be mindful of the kid giving him hopeful, puppy eyes.

“Just–whatever you do–don’t tell Hia I’m here,” Macau begged. “If you have to say you spoke to me, just say it was on the phone. I've been using audio clips to convince him I'm no longer in Thailand, and I've been keeping tabs on the time zones.”

“Got it.”

“We should get started,” Porsche exclaimed, snatching Pete’s plate before he was done with it. “We’re meeting him in a few hours.”

“What?” Pete shouted, wondering just what the hell he had gotten himself into this time, truly. Trust Porsche to get Pete in over his head. 

Arm appeared at Pete’s side, holding a plain black suit and white shirt. 

At least he was smart enough to not make direct eye contact with Pete. 

“You’re lucky I’m not suing you for using my likeness,” Pete grumbled, taking the suit to examine it. “And what’s this?” The quality was so much better than the one suit Pete owned. 

“Your uniform,” Arm said. “And I’m sorry, Pete. I promise, only Khun Vegas will get this android. When we market them, we’ll give them generic faces and change the name. Khun Macau just wanted someone safe and warm for Khun Vegas to bond with, and you really were the first person I thought of.”

Wincing slightly, Pete nodded uncomfortably. He might have taken the compliment under other circumstances, but it was still too weird. 

Pol stepped forward then, smiling brightly. 

“Please come this way to change, Pete. We will brief you on everything we have time for.”

Chapter Text

Over the next few hours, Pete practiced how to walk, how to move. It wasn’t hard, since the android was calibrated to be nearly undetectably different to the human eye. He practiced how to speak, making himself sound just slightly off from a normal human cadence. 

It was weird. 

“What if my accent slips out?” Pete asked, feeling a looming headache from trying to absorb so many instructions so quickly. 

Macau smiled at him. 

“You’re meant to be as human and relatable as possible, so it might even be nice.”

Porsche announced it was almost time to leave, and Pete’s stomach dropped. He was so nervous. 

Taking a seat, Kinn called for Pete to get his attention. 

“Khun Kinn?”

Kinn slid a contract across the table. “Please review and sign this before we go. It’s a standard NDA. You are not to discuss Vegas, his medical condition, or your time with him. You cannot tell anyone you are pretending to be a robot, especially not Vegas. If he ever finds out, it could undo all the progress Macau is hoping you make. 

Pete swallowed, nodding as his eyes glazed over the paperwork. 

After a moment, Kinn cleared his throat, handing Pete a pen. 

“Just because you are Porsche’s friend, do not think my family will not be brutally litigious.”

“Got it,” Pete muttered, meeting his gaze as he took the pen, fiddling with it as he kept reading. Some of it went over his head, but Pete could understand the basics. Lie. Don’t admit to the lie. Don’t tell anyone outside of that room about the lie. Or else. 

Pete signed his name, and watched as Kinn put the paper into a folder. 

“You will be tested, by Vegas, for an hour. If he accepts you, you will have the weekend to get your affairs in order, then you will be Vegas’s companion for three months, while we fix the real android.”

“My Yaai-”

“Arm will pick you up every evening, using the excuse that you will need to charge. You can handle your personal business at that time. And every other Sunday we can get you earlier in the day to give you a longer break. Other than that, all of your time and attention should be on convincing Vegas to leave the house and reintegrate into society.” 

Kinn stared a hole into the table, his jaw clenching. 

“My father is glad he is out of the way, but I am…less thrilled. Vegas is smart. He could be an asset to the business, even more than he is. But he also just…”

Pete stared, unblinking as Kinn tried to force out his words. Taking pity on him, Pete said, “Deserves better than a guided cage?”

Kinn frowned up at him, but he said, “Yes.”

Pete had wondered what Porsche possibly saw in his rich, nepo boyfriend, besides the money, but he was starting to see. Kinn cared about his family quite a bit. 

With a soft smile, Pete assured him, “I’ll try my best, and I’ll take very good care of him.”

Macau appeared then, tugging Pete’s arm with excitement.

“P’Pete! Arm got the droid to work a little. Come meet him before we go.”

Pete could not imagine doing anything stranger, but he knew it would help him get into character, if nothing else. Arm jolted as they approached, stepping out of the way. After the first study of the android, Pete had not really looked at it. It was weird, like he had a twin he never knew about, but the android had been completely lifeless until now. 

As Pete stepped closer, the android tilted its head in Pete’s direction. 

“Hello,” it said, sounding eerily like Pete. 

Pete looked into the android’s eyes, which looked darker than his own, and oddly flat. 

“Hi,” Pete exhaled. 

The android tried to smile, but his lips twitched, and one eyelid began to rapidly open and close. 

“Aw, shit,” Macau hummed. “That power surge really messed him up.”

They had given Pete a truncated version of events that had led to them needing his services. 

“Do you feel it’s a little rushed?” Pete asked, leaning back, wanting to distance himself from the android as he crossed his arms. 

With a somber smile, Arm powered the droid down and said, “Khun Kinn’s father is eager to learn more about this project. If he likes it, he wants to get it approved by the board and on the market before one of their competitors does.” Blinking at Pete’s scowl, he added, “But don’t worry. They’ve only seen the generic model and the schematics. Your face is still your own.”

“And Vegas’s,” Pete muttered under his breath. “My whole body belongs to him.”

“And Hia’s gonna love you,” Macau crowed, his eyes bright in a way that frightened Pete a little. “Just be yourself, as much as you can.”

It was time, so Pete put the jacket on, with the lapel pin that would allow Arm and the others to see and hear everything in case they needed to hurriedly extract Pete. 

When he turned around, Porsche scoffed at him. 

“What?” Pete begged, checking himself over. 

Shaking his head, Porsche said, “Nothing. You look like one of Kinn’s assistants or something.”

“I think he looks handsome,” Pol countered. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” Pete grumbled, straightening his bangs.

He didn’t consider himself an overly anxious person, but he had never dealt with such high stakes before. He needed Vegas to accept him, and he needed Vegas to like him. One wrong move and he could kiss the money goodbye. He would be back to begging for interviews while dreading the calls from the hospital’s billing department and the creditors. 

They had told him that Vegas’s vision wasn’t clear. It was hazy, at best. Perhaps he would buy the story that Pete was just an incredibly lifelike robot. Taking a deep breath, Pete got into the ventilated box he would be delivered in. He tried to relax his tense muscles as the box was tilted back and wheeled out to the commercial van they would be taking. 

Porsche didn’t talk to him much as they drove, which Pete was grateful for, as it allowed him time to mentally prepare himself by going over everything they had told him. 

Pete realized he hadn’t asked how old Vegas was. From how they spoke, he was older than Macau and younger than Kinn. Pete wondered if he and Vegas were around the same age. 

With a sigh, Pete closed his eyes. It was stuffy in the box, so he tried to move as little as possible. Androids probably didn’t sweat, after all. 

Finally, they arrived. Pete heard a few buttons being pushed, then the loud rattle of a metal gate opening. The van pulled through, driving in a wide loop before coming to a stop. 

“We’re here, buddy,” Porsche announced the obvious. “Remember, you just have to last an hour.”

“Easy,” Pete replied, trying to sound relaxed as he tugged on the bottom of the suit jacket. He felt a little dizzy when the doors were opened and the box was slid out of the van and onto the dolley. 

Pete closed his eyes again, taking a slow breath. Silently, he practiced the standard greeting. 

Hello, Master.

Hello, Master. I am PET3, your Personalized Enrichment Tech 3.

The box was propped up as Pete heard the shuffling around him, like plastic sheeting, along with the buzz of long zippers. 

“I hate putting these on,” Porsche grumbled. 

“Well, hopefully we won’t have to one day,” Arm commiserated. 

Before Pete could ask what they meant, there was the crackle of a loudspeaker, followed by a voice that sounded weirdly familiar. 

“You’re late.”

Porsche scoffed, and Pete could practically hear his eyes rolling. 

“There was traffic. And we’re only, like, ten minutes late.”

“Whatever,” Pete presumed that was Vegas, and didn’t he sound like a delight?

A door opened, and Pete braced himself. It was showtime. 

As instructed, he closed his eyes and relaxed his body as much as possible. 

“Hey, friend,” Porsche called loudly, his voice sounding muffled. 

“We’re not friends,” Vegas retorted. 

“Boo,” Porsche mumbled amicably, and Pete had to hold back his laugh. He was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who bullied Porsche, though Pete did it with more affection. 

“Where can we put him?” Arm asked, all business.

“I don’t care where you put it.”

It. That wasn’t a great start, but Pete had to remind himself he wasn’t human. At least, not when he was with Vegas. The most human non-human he could be. 

The box rocked slightly as Porsche and Arm placed it somewhere, and Pete felt a rush of cool air conditioning as Arm opened the lid. Pete had been strapped down, so Arm quickly unbuckled him. 

“Pete,” Arm commanded. “Online.”

Pete’s eyes blinked open, his mouth opening to say the scripted line, when he saw a familiar man standing across the room. He wore a facemask and gloves, but Pete recognized him immediately, even without the little robot beside him. 

“What the fuck?” Pete screeched before he could stop himself. 

Vegas’s eyes went wide, and Arm immediately began stammering. 

“Is it defective?” Vegas asked, turning to glance in Porsche’s direction. “Were you messing with it?”

Porsche laughed, pushing Arm out of the way to help Pete out of the box. Pete tried not to stare at the biohazard suits they wore. 

“No,” he said. “He’s, uh, in friend mode.”

“Friend mode?” Vegas balked. 

Leaning into it, Pete (courtesy of many hours of improv practice) put his hands on his hips and said, “What? You never had a friend before?”

“No,” Vegas grunted. “And I never wanted one.”

Pete knew that had to be a lie. Who out there could honestly say they never yearned for a companion? 

“What a load of bullshit,” Pete exhaled with a laugh. “I’m going to be the best friend you could possibly want.”

Nodding to his companions, Vegas instructed Porsche and Arm to leave.

“We’ll be back to get him in an hour,” Arm reminded Vegas. “But remember our deal. Think of him as a fully functioning human. Don’t do anything to harm or damage him.”

“I”m not going to break Macau’s science fair project,” Vegas snarled. 

Pete turned, wide-eyed, to Porsche, who gave him an apologetic smile. Had that been a considered possibility? Vegas was talking about him like he was just some toy, but Pete supposed to him, he was. 

With a wave, Porsche followed Arm out the door, leaving Pete alone with Vegas, who still hadn’t crossed the room. Pete remembered the reaction Vegas had had the last time he was there, so he made no move to close the distance himself. What if Kinn was wrong about the allergy being all in Vegas’s head and he had another reaction?

The robot, with a bright chirp, rolled over to Pete to greet him. 

“Hello,” the bot said, a kid’s cartoon face lighting up its screen. “You can call me Venice.”

“Nice to meet you, Venice,” Pete replied, as if he were talking to a real kid. “My name is Pete.”

“P’Pete!” Venice cheered, his wheels spinning in a tight circle. “New friend.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Vegas grumbled, his tone decidedly more gentle now that the others were gone. “Calm down, Venice. Pete’s supposed to be my friend, not yours.”

Was he actually jealous of a robot?

Pete straightened, noticing that Vegas was moving closer, though cautiously. 

Watching Vegas with a patient smile, Pete said, “I’m not going to bite.” Unbidden, Pete recalled the creamy smoothness of Vegas’s thighs on display as he had given him his injection. He wasn’t planning on biting Vegas, but some part of him wasn’t mad at the idea. 

Vegas peeled off his face mask first, and Pete had time to fully appreciate how handsome he was. 

When Vegas next opened his mouth, though, Pete hadn’t anticipated his next command. 

“Strip.”

Pete narrowed his eyes. Just what the fuck was this guy playing at?

“Why?”

Chapter Text

Vegas cocked his head to the side. He hadn’t expected the android to question a direct order. Was this because he was in friend mode, or whatever the fuck Porsche had said?

“Do it. I’m your master, right?”

“Are you implying I should possess no autonomy?”

Vegas frowned, stepping closer, and asked, “Are you implying that you do?”

“Yes,” Pete replied curtly, jutting his chin out. The closer he got, the more Vegas could make out the details of his face. He was beautiful. Prior to meeting Pete, Vegas could not have described what his type might be. Why bother dwelling on such vanity, when he couldn’t get close to anyone? And even if he could, their looks would eventually fade from his sight, even before they faded with time. 

Pete wasn’t human, though he seemed to want to act like he was. Very well, Vegas could humor the artificial human. 

“Pete?” Vegas called. “I am curious about you and how lifelike you appear to be. Will you undress for me so I can see and touch you?”

Vegas felt absurd asking to touch something that was his, but he could not deny the thrill it gave him when Pete began to unbutton his dark jacket. After folding it carefully over a chair, Pete did the same with his shirt. He reached for his pants, but Vegas said, “That’s enough.”

Pete nodded, then held still as Vegas closed the distance between them. He waited for his breath to catch and go shallow, for his skin to break out in a rash, but he had no reaction other than the thundering of his heart. Emboldened, Vegas removed his mask and peeled his gloves off, letting them drop to the floor so he could reach out and touch Pete’s bare chest. 

He was the perfect temperature, his outer layer as soft as real skin. 

With a gasp, Vegas closed his eyes.

“Master?”

His instinct told him to snap, to protect himself. Vegas did not need to expose any weaknesses, but he reminded himself that Pete wasn’t human. Pete wouldn’t try to lie, manipulate, or trick him. Macau had helped shape him and his operating system. Pete was pure. He could be…safe.

“I can’t remember the last time I really touched someone.”

There was a moment of quiet, where Vegas let his hands drag over Pete’s chest and down his stomach. 

“Do I feel real enough?” Pete asked quietly, and Vegas’s eyes snapped open. 

With a nod, Vegas licked his lips. Pete felt incredibly, unbelievably real. He breathed. Muscles flexed under Vegas’s touch. Arm had really outdone himself. 

With a smirk, Vegas teased a hand lower. 

“Do you also come with a boyfriend mode?”

Pete’s dark eyes went wide, and Vegas thought about the mystery man who had saved him. Perhaps Pete could be a fun substitute. 

“I’m not a sex doll,” Pete said without heat, his eyelids lowering as Vegas cupped Pete’s crotch. He certainly seemed to have the right parts. 

“Why else would you be anatomically correct?”

Arm had called earlier, letting Vegas know he shouldn’t freak out about Pete’s quirks. Unlike Venice, Arm said that Pete not only could but needed to eat, use the restroom, and even sleep. Why anyone would want a napping robot was beyond Vegas, but now he was thinking of taking a nap with Pete curled around him, and that idea was certainly appealing. 

He pressed his hand a little harder against Pete’s cock, and felt it twitch. He wanted to see it. Oddly, Vegas found himself seconds away from dropping to his knees to take Pete in his mouth. Would he come?

Instead, Vegas removed his hand and walked around Pete, leaning close to get a good look at him. 

“You’re very pretty. I saw you on the screen, but you’re much better in person.”

“Thank you,” Pete replied. “I think you’re very pretty, too.”

Vegas paused, studying Pete’s face closely. 

“Do androids often have opinions on beauty?”

He watched as Pete shrugged. 

“There isn’t another android like me.”

Vegas hummed, then asked Pete several questions, his facial expression souring with each answer. Pete couldn’t speak French, could barely speak English, and spoke Thai with a bit of an accent. Not that Vegas minded the accent. It was cute. But Pete couldn’t solve complex equations. He did not have superhuman strength. 

“What is the point of you?” Vegas blurted. 

Pete cocked his head to the side. He took a step closer, and Vegas tamped down the instinct to step back. Lowering his gaze, Pete ran his fingers down Vegas’s arm, making him shiver. Taking Vegas’s hand, Pete placed it on his still-bare chest. He was so goddamn warm. 

“I’m here to be whatever you want me to be.”

Vegas licked his lips.

“Even if that means being a sex bot?”

To his surprise, Pete threw his head back and laughed. 

“I see you have a one track mind, Master.”

“Vegas. Don’t call me Master.”

“Very well.”

Pete looked almost flirtatious, up close, as Vegas decided to take yet another opportunity to touch him. Touching Pete felt borderline addictive, even as Vegas tried to shut away how much that exposed his cravings for physical connection. 

“Will you be mine, Pete?” Vegas asked, wrapping his arms around Pete to hug him. Resting his chin on Pete’s shoulder, Vegas felt Pete hold him back and closed his eyes. 

With a slow sigh, Vegas opened himself up even more than he did with Venice. And Venice had seen him in pretty low points. 

“Pete, did they tell you I’m losing my sight?”

“Yes.”

“I hate even the idea of…relying…on someone else. But Macau wants me to have you. And that’s not the same, right? You won’t grow to resent me if I get too needy, will you?”

Pete hummed, his hand moving to stroke the back of Vegas’s head. 

“You can rely on me, Vegas. You can lean on me. I was made to be whatever you need. I was made for you.”

Vegas nodded, inhaling deeply. Pete even smelled nice. Turning his head, Vegas pressed his nose into Pete’s neck to take a stronger whiff. 

“Can I be safe with you?”

“Of course. I will do anything I can to keep you safe. And I will never judge you. You can be yourself. You can be weak, and I will protect you.”

Prying himself away from Pete, Vegas wondered if he needed to have a talk with Macau. His little brother had gotten even more into his head than he thought possible. 

“Let me show you around, Pete.”

Distracted, Vegas almost tripped over Venice as he whirled around, but Pete was quick to catch him, their eyes meeting with a lingering glance. When he was steady, Pete dutifully followed Vegas and Venice around as they showed him the most important areas. When he was done, Vegas led them back to the kitchen. To check Pete’s object recognition, he instructed him to get several ingredients. Pete completed his task flawlessly. 

“Pete?” Vegas called. 

“Yes?”

“If I am in distress–if I look different–I will need you to give me an injection. Are you capable of doing that?”

“I have basic medical training,” Pete replied coolly. 

Nodding, Vegas took out the cutting board and began washing vegetables to chop. 

“Would you like me to do that?” Pete offered, but Vegas shook his head. 

“I like to do as much for myself as possible. They keep me locked up in here, so I need to keep busy.”

“Does anyone come?”

“Nop. He’s the groundskeeper. He brings groceries, takes the trash, that kind of stuff. But usually I am alone. It’s safer that way. Less risk.”

Watching Pete glance out the window, the sun brightening his face, Vegas hissed as the knife slipped and cut his finger. 

“Fuck!” 

Frustrated with himself for getting distracted so stupidly, Vegas lunged, shoving the glass bowls he had set out for his ingredients to the floor, where they shattered loudly. 

“Vegas!”

Before the shame could wash through him for throwing yet another tantrum, Vegas was being lifted in the air by strong arms and sat carefully on the counter. 

“Don’t move,” Pete commanded. 

Vegas focused on his breathing while his finger throbbed. He was so immature. He was reckless. At least Pete would not offer any type of judgment. He was pressed between Vegas’s legs, inspecting the cut seriously, but he didn’t look mad. 

“It’s not deep. You don’t even need stitches. But let me get a bandage.”

Pete walked away, stepping carefully, as Venice chirped sadly from across the room. 

“Shut up,” Vegas snapped at the bot pathetically. “I know it was stupid to break glass.”

Just then, a call from Macau came through, and Vegas growled as he rolled his eyes. 

“Hia? What’s going on? Is Pete there?”

“Yes,” Vegas replied. “He’s getting a bandage.”

“You’re hurt?”

“Don’t send Porsche,” Vegas ordered sternly. “Pete is here. It’s what you made him for, right?”

Macau was quiet for a moment as Vegas tried to make out his face. 

“Do you like him?”

Vegas could hear how desperate Macau sounded. He knew he had been helping Arm for so long, and it was important to Macau. 

“He’s…nice. Friendly.”

“Cute, too, yeah?” Macau added, and Vegas could hear his grin.

Just then, Pete returned with ointment and a bandage. 

“Gotta run, Hia,” Macau said, as Vegas was captured yet again by Pete’s simple beauty. Vegas hummed, but Macau had already ended the call. 

“That was Macau.”

Pete grinned. “I know. He’s nice.”

Suddenly, Vegas couldn’t help but be a little jealous of his little brother, who had already spent countless hours with Pete before Vegas had spent a single one. 

“He’s a brat, but he’s the only person I like.”

“I’m sure that’s not entirely true.”

“It is.”

Pete bandaged Vegas’s finger carefully, and Vegas examined his work when he was done. 

“Your dexterity and reflexes are phenomenal.”

Pete blinked. “I’m state of the art. I told you, there isn’t another android like me.”

Lifting his unbandaged hand, Vegas stroked Pete’s cheek, once again thrown by how soft he was. 

“Are you disappointed in being given to a worthless human like me?”

With a serious look, Pete shook his head. 

“I am not disappointed, though I hope you react differently in the future. It’s dangerous to break things. And you are certainly not worthless. From now on, you’re my whole world.”

Pete was being kind, like he was programmed to be, but Vegas still felt both properly chastised and uplifted to a height that made it possible to touch the face of god. 

Then, Pete surprised him again. After fetching the broom, Pete scooped Vegas off of the counter and set him down carefully, handing the broom over. 

“Aren’t you going to clean up for me?”

“You made the mess, Vegas. You are quite capable of cleaning it up.”

Strangely, Vegas actually liked that Pete wasn’t going to coddle him. 

“Just go slow,” Pete directed, his warm hands landing solidly on Vegas’s hips as he slotted behind him. “Sweep away a few times before you take a step, and push everything to one spot.” 

Vegas followed Pete’s instructions, moving carefully as he swept up the glass. When he was done, Pete checked for any stray pieces before helping him scoop everything into the dustpan. 

“Very good work,” Pete hummed, and Vegas felt his stomach drop dizzily at the praise. 

“Thank you.”

Vegas felt weightless, slightly lost. 

Grabbing Pete’s arm, Vegas told Venice to order his usual from Yok’s. Pete followed him wordlessly to the sofa, where Vegas pushed him to sit. As soon as Pete was still, Vegas crawled onto his lap, pressing his cheek against Pete’s shoulder. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t enough. Leaning back, Vegas discarded his shirt, then pressed his skin against Pete’s. 

“You feel so real,” Vegas murmured.

“Then,” Pete began, “Do I pass the test?”

Vegas sighed. Sitting up, he traced Pete’s lips with his fingertips. He could not get enough of being so close to him. 

“Pete?” Vegas whispered, feeling raw and split open. “I know you’re not real, but do you think you could learn to…have real affection for me? Could I be the most important person to you, really?”

Pete tilted his head to the side, but before he could open his mouth to reply, Venice rolled forward with a whir. 

“Incoming call from Porsche, Boss,” Venice reported. 

Rolling his eyes, Vegas directed him to answer it. 

“Veg- What the fuck are you doing, Pete?” Porsche exclaimed. 

“What does it look like he’s doing?” Vegas replied. 

Porsche sputtered as Vegas crawled off of Pete’s lap with a sigh. “It looks like you were about to- Vegas, listen to me carefully. Under no circumstances are you to have sexual contact with Pete.”

Vegas laughed out loud as Pete stood up. 

“He’s mine to do with as I please. You guys are the weird ones who gave him a dick.”

Porsche was quiet for a long moment, which made Vegas want to squirm. 

“What?”

“Him, huh?” 

“What are you talking about now?”

“Nothing. I’m sure Pete prefers not being referred to as an ‘it’, is all.”

“Whatever. I’m guessing you’re calling because my time is up?”

Arm pushed Porsche out of the way so his face filled the screen instead. 

“Pete? We’re coming in. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Pete said. 

“Okay,” Arm said, exhaling. “We will be coming to get you shortly.”

The call ended, and Vegas found himself following Pete as he moved to put his clothes back on. 

“Don’t let them reprogram you this weekend,” Vegas sulked, crossing his arms over his still-bare chest. “You’re mine.”

To his shock, Pete finished buttoning his jacket and leant forward to pat the top of Vegas’s head. 

“Will you miss me?”

“Yes.” Vegas hated how Pete seemed to effortlessly pull the truth out of him, but it was worth it for the warm smile the android gave him. 

“Then,” Pete said seriously, taking Vegas’s hand to make sure his bandage was still fine, “Please take care of yourself, and don’t break anything.”

“What will I get in return?”

Pete’s eyebrow raised. “What would you like?”

Aware that Porsche and Arm could burst through the front door at any moment, Vegas wound his arms around Pete’s neck and whispered in his ear, “I would like to try out that boyfriend mode.”

Quickly licking Pete’s cheek, Vegas hurried off to hide in his bedroom, along with Venice, as he tried to settle the furious pounding of his heart.

Chapter Text

As soon as they made it through the gate and Pete made sure he was securely buckled, Arm and Porsche turned on him. 

“What the fuck happened?” Porsche asked, as Arm said at the same time, “Are you okay? You took your jacket off.”

Pete exhaled heavily, turning away from Arm’s too-caring stare to face his friend. 

“I had it under control. That was just…more than I was expecting. Different.”

Pete couldn’t tell them he had already had a previous run-in with Vegas. Pete had thought it would put a quick end to the whole thing, but Vegas clearly hadn’t recognized him. Pete saw no reason to ruin things for himself, in the event they didn’t want to take the risk. Besides, Pete had a new reason to see this through. 

“Why did you take your clothes off?” Arm asked. 

“He asked me to.”

“You should have said no. Told him it was against your protocol or something. You- You’re not like that, Pete. You’re…you deserve to be treated better.”

With a scoff, Pete retorted, “Says the guy who made a creepy doll of me. We went on a few dates that went nowhere years ago. Don’t presume to know anything about my sex life.”

“You never slept together?” Porsche balked. 

“No!” Pete said. “We didn’t have chemistry.”

When he glanced over, Arm was looking out the window. 

“That’s in the past,” Pete added, more gently. “The important thing right now is that Vegas bought it. He doesn’t even suspect I’m human.”

“That’s great,” Kinn said, speaking up for the first time since they left the house. “He seemed to really like you. At least, he didn’t torture you or anything, right?”

Torture?? Pete thought about the vulnerable look in Vegas’s eyes, of how desperate he seemed to have his skin touching Pete’s, and shifted in his seat. 

“No, I think it’s safe to say he likes me.”

“As long as he doesn’t like you too much,” Porsche huffed, crossing his arms. “No funny business. If he tries anything weird, just have Venice call one of us and we’ll get you out of there.”

Pete hummed noncommittally, staring ahead blankly as he thought about the reverent way Vegas had handled him. He seemed fascinated, but in a way that made Pete feel like he was seconds away from being consumed. 

Pete wasn’t ignorant. He knew he had a fairly pretty face and delicate features. It made a lot of things in life easier for him. People assumed he wasn’t too bright, or felt like he needed protecting. Pete often wondered where all of those people were when his father was beating the shit out of him. 

Arm had been like that, thinking Pete was porcelain. He kept a respectful distance, always the gentleman. 

No one understood that Pete was always hungry. He was hollowed out. Life had sucked him dry and left a husk behind. Pete was always the one to give and give and give, but there was something about the way Vegas wanted to take from him that intrigued Pete. 

Vegas was not worried about protecting Pete’s sensibilities. He had not crossed any lines with Pete, nothing he objected to, but Pete had liked the way Vegas did not hold back. He wanted Pete, and no one else would suffice. Pete wondered what a full day of Vegas’s attention would feel like. 

How long would it take for Vegas to ask Pete to touch him? He seemed incredibly pent up, even just for any kind of physical contact, but Pete knew he wanted more than just Pete’s warmth. And Pete already kind of wanted to give it to him. 

Vegas seemed shameless, which was freeing in a way. He was cast out from society, in a self-imposed isolation, and it felt very liberating to Pete, who was so used to doing what everyone else wanted him to do. 

Acting as Vegas’s android companion would give Pete a much-needed break from the world. For three months, he wouldn’t have to worry about money, or finding a job, or the day-to-day bullshit. The noise of the city, the stress, all of it–Pete could just hide out with Vegas and Venice for a while. He could focus his attention, his energy, on one person.

Vegas already seemed pleased with him just as he was, with just his presence, and that had filled Pete with more lightness than he thought he would ever muster. Could it really be that simple, just to be around Vegas?

Even as Pete wanted–wanted more than he could ever remember wanting–the guilt began to eat at him. He needed to accept the job for more than just himself. He needed to get Yaai the best care he could, but it would mean he wouldn’t be able to spend much time with her for the next few months. He was at his breaking point, eager for a reprieve from existing in the world as himself, but wasn’t that selfish?

“Pete?”

Pete startled, turning to face Porsche. When he blinked, he realized they had arrived back at the lab while he had been lost in thought. 

“Sorry,” Pete mumbled. 

Porsche gave him a heavy look, but waited until they were inside to speak to Pete. 

“Hey, if you’re not okay doing this, we’ll just tell Vegas that we need some time. And about the money, I can give you a loan, or-”

“When were you going to tell me?” Pete asked. When Porsche didn’t say anything, he pushed harder. “Were you ever?”

Wincing, Porsche said, “Pete, by the time I found out, this plan was well in the works. I didn’t think you would like the idea of your ex making a robot that looked like you.”

“Whatever,” Pete sighed. There was no point in fighting with Porsche about it. Maybe that time would come later, but Pete had a job to focus on. He would much rather play pretend rather than put their friendship in an even weirder place by owing Porsche money he didn’t even know how to begin to pay back. “We can talk about it later. I just have a lot on my mind, what with all this. And I need to see Yaai.”

“Where is she?” Macau asked, sliding closer with a tepid smile on his face. 

“TK Hospital. Cancer Ward.”

Macau gave Porsche a look, but Porsche just shook his head. 

“What?” Pete asked, slipping the jacket off to hand it to Pol. “What are you keeping from me, now?”

“Nothing,” Macau blurted. “How did it go? Hia didn’t go too far, did he? I know he broke stuff.”

“No, he was…” Pete swallowed, cocking his head to the side as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say. 

He thought about Vegas’s hands on him, on how intensely Vegas stared at him. 

“He was nice,” Pete muttered. 

Macau actually scoffed at that. 

“Nice? I love him to death, but he’s not the easiest person to be around.”

“I think I can handle him.”

The group finished debriefing Pete, their frustration visibly mounting each time Pete artfully dodged their questions about everything that happened. As far as Pete was concerned, it wasn’t their business what had taken place between the two of them. Pete had kept Vegas safe, and he had given him what he wanted, so what else did they need to know?

As Pete got up to leave, Kinn said, “Take the weekend to think it over. If you are on board, you can sign the final contract and begin Monday.”

Pete nodded, but stayed rooted where he was for a moment. 

“What happens when the contract ends? You’ll just swap me out for my double?”

“Technically,” Arm said, “You’re the double in this case. But yes. We will let Khun Vegas know that his android had to undergo emergency updates and has been rebooted. That will account for the abrupt difference in behavior. And Khun Vegas will start fresh with PET3.”

Lowering his gaze, Pete let that image wash through him as he said, “I’ll be in touch.”

With that, Pete made his way home. He showered, taking his time under the warm water, then fell, exhausted, into bed. 

The next morning, Pete hit the gym, his mind still distracted. He couldn’t avoid Yaai forever, so after he showered, Pete snuck into the hospital to see her. 

To his shock, she had company. 

“Macau?”

The kid turned, giving Pete a wai. 

“Hi, P’Pete! I hope it’s okay I came to meet your Yaai.”

Pete took in the warm smile on Yaai’s face and nodded. It was actually quite nice of Macau to visit. 

“This young man said he met you recently and wanted to meet me, too. He said you might be helping him soon.” Turning to Macau, Yaai said, “My Pete is such a good boy. Not a selfish bone in his body.” 

That’s not true.

Pete just grinned, narrowing his eyes as he took an empty seat near Yaai’s bed. 

“Sorry I’m late, Yaai. I went to the gym first.”

“That’s alright. Macau said he could visit me, too. And Porsche came by this morning with that man of his. So handsome. Nurse Tay told me he actually owns the hospital. Can you believe it? I think they know each other.”

Pete glanced at Macau, who was pointedly looking away. His red face confirmed it, though. 

“I had no idea,” Pete admitted truthfully. “What a small world.”

“I should let you two speak in private,” Macau said suddenly, getting up. 

Pete gave him a nod, taking Yaai’s hand as he waited for the door to close. 

“What’s wrong, Pete?” Yaai asked. “You seem tense.”

Taking a deep breath, Pete scooted his chair closer and began to explain how he was thinking about taking a job that would keep him quite busy for a few months. 

“Is it a good opportunity? Is it worth the effort?”

Pete thought about the money and the mission he had been charged with. His mind quickly wandered to thoughts of Vegas as Pete selfishly said, “Yes. I think I’ll quite enjoy it.”

“Then, go for it. You can’t just wait around on me, Pete. You need to start living your life before it slips you by while you worry too much about mine.”

Pete felt sick. He wanted to say that was easy for her to say, but if Pete hadn’t stepped up to look after her, who would? He was the only decent family she had left. And he loved her, he did, but sometimes he also felt trapped by that love. 

Pete felt like he almost couldn’t breathe. 

Vegas was more than a job. He would be an escape for Pete from the world as much as from his own toxic thoughts. 

When he finally left her room, he found Macau leaning against the opposite wall in the hallway. 

“I’m surprised you actually came to see her,” Pete admitted. 

Macau only shrugged, unbothered, as he pushed off the wall to follow Pete down the hall. 

“In many ways, I’m all Hia has left, so it means a lot to me that you care enough to help him, even though he’s a stranger to you.”

“Don’t you think I’d do it for the money, anyway?”

Macau was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Not you. Maybe I’m optimistic or naïve, but I feel like you also want to help him.” With a short skip, Macau hopped in front of Pete, walking backwards as he declared, “I spoke with him after you went home. He…he said you were stubborn. He said you even made him clean up his own mess.”

Pete’s face heated a little as he rushed to defend his choice. “It’s- I just- Well, he’s not physically incapable, is he? He should learn the consequences of his actions. Respectfully.”

Macau laughed brightly, turning again gracefully to walk beside Pete again.

“Yeah, I think you’re perfect for him. I always feel bad for Hia–I worry–so I just try to make things easier for him. I just let him do what he wants. It’s good that you aren’t going to baby him. We’re in this situation because we’re all too scared to push Hia. But if he’s not challenged, how will he grow?”

Pete hummed, just observing this kid who seemed wise beyond his years. 

“Vegas is lucky to have a brother like you.”

Macau blushed, and Pete decided he would focus all of his attention on helping Macau get his brother back. As they reached the door, Pete stopped. 

“Macau, I’ll do everything I can to get Vegas out of the house as much as possible before my contract’s over. Maybe if he trusts me, I can show him that it’s safe for him to be around people.”

With a heavy exhale, Macau wrapped his arms around Pete, who stiffened in surprise. 

“Thank you, P’Pete. I wish you luck.”

Macau gave a small wave as he walked away. For a while, Pete just watched him go. It was nice to see that Macau wanted Vegas to more than just exist. He wanted his brother to live. 

Pete wandered the city. He tidied his apartment. He ordered takeout and watched television late into the night as he scrolled his phone for information on Bietti Crystalline Dystrophy. The next day, he spent as much time with Yaai as he could. As they played cards, Pete tried not to dwell on whether she was truly living, or just still existing for his sake. Thinking too much about that was too painful, so Pete reverted to doing what he always did: he focused on the outcome where she went into remission and was able to live out the rest of her days without pain. 

Before he left and as visiting hours ended, Pete gave his grandmother a big hug. 

“I love you, Doodle,” she murmured, using his childhood nickname. “Don’t work too hard, but work hard enough that you can be proud.”

“Thank you, Yaai. I love you, so you focus on getting lots of rest and feeling better, and I’ll visit as often as I can.”

“Deal.”

With a kiss on each of their cheeks, they parted. Rather than head home, Pete called Porsche. 

“I’m in.”

“I knew it!” Porsche yelled with glee. “I told Kinn you would do it. I’ll let Arm know. Can you meet us at the warehouse?”

After agreeing to meet, Pete went to his place to pack a few essentials before locking up. Since Vegas lived a ways away, they had made Pete up a room at their base of operations. It would be much easier to ferry him back and forth for his breaks.

When he arrived, Arm looked reluctant, but he went over everything in more detail with Pol’s help. 

Pete was restless that night, sleeping in a strange place. He was a little nervous about starting the ruse officially, but he was also eager to see Vegas again. 

Eventually, Pete managed to fall asleep, and morning arrived. Pete dressed in the plain suit, but this time he handed the hidden camera back to Arm.

“Pete, how can I keep up with what’s-”

Pete fixed him with a terse look before interrupting. 

“And how can I do my job in peace if I’m always wondering if you’re spying?”

Macau sat down, taking a sip of an energy drink. 

“P’Pete’s right. He can handle it, and he can call us with Venice if he needs anything. Besides, Hia will probably be walking around nude a lot, and no one needs to see that.”

Pete cleared his throat, turning away so Macau wouldn’t see him blush.

Porsche yawned, coming out of the room he had shared with Kinn. 

“Morning,” Pete grinned. 

Nodding, Porsche rubbed his eyes. “I just need a minute, and we can go.”

“No need,” Arm said briskly. “Pol and I will drop him off. Oh, but…” Turning to Pete, Arm reminded him that he would need to give up his phone. 

As reluctant as he was to do so, Pete understood that he couldn’t have it. Putting it in Porsche’s safe hands, in case the hospital called, Pete gave everyone a wave, took a deep breath, and followed Arm and Pol to the van. 

Chapter Text

Vegas had been very busy all weekend. In between anxious calls with Macau that updated him very little on his brother’s activities, Vegas had been putting in orders with Venice. He had called Nop to help him move things around a little. Frowning, Vegas had even stooped as low as placing a call to Arm, to see if Pete would need any special equipment. 

Arm’s eyebrows had raised as he thought for a moment before finally replying, “For what?”

With a scowl, Vegas frustratedly explained, “For whatever. You said he needs to charge, right?”

“We’ll handle that at the lab. We explained we’ll pick him up in the evenings for an hour or two, then-”

“That’s not convenient,” Vegas grit through his teeth. He would die before elaborating that he had spent the weekend fantasizing about having Pete’s company as he settled in to sleep, so he just stared at Arm’s exasperated expression. 

With a sigh, Arm capitulated. 

“I will check to see how long he can go between charges. Maybe he can last another day or two.”

Delighted with his win, Vegas smirked. 

“He should have a better battery pack, for the price. And you’re already taking him all afternoon every other Sunday.”

“You’re right,” Arm groaned. “I’ll make battery life a priority.”

Nodding, Vegas relaxed again as he asked, “And does he need anything else for routine care and maintenance that can be handled here?”

“Pete can tell you what he needs.”

Glancing down the hall to what Vegas had started calling ‘Pete’s room’, Vegas nodded. 

“Then I guess I called for nothing. Send Venice an alert when you’re on the way.”

Vegas had stayed up late that night, carefully arranging and rearranging the items he had express shipped to him. He didn’t know to what extent Pete could feel things like emotions, but he selfishly wanted Pete to be happy with him. 

After tossing and turning, his hands itching to touch Pete again, Vegas got up extra early to wait for their signal. 

Finally, it came, and Vegas gave them clear instructions to send Pete in alone. While he waited for the door to open, for his new pet to come home, he paced the floor. Venice chirped excitedly, tracing the tracks Vegas made in the carpet. 

The buzzer rang, and Vegas urged Venice to unlock the door without otherwise acknowledging him. Vegas’s hand was already on the inner door. He took a deep breath, hoping they had followed his order to send Pete in alone. Bracing for a potential reaction, Vegas threw the door open. There, looking a little caught off guard, was Pete. 

“Vegas?”

“You’re here,” Vegas exhaled. He was reaching for Pete before he could stop himself, nearly melting into a puddle as Pete smiled and stepped forward to take his hand. 

“I’m here.”

That was all the confirmation Vegas needed to yank Pete the rest of the way inside so he could shut the door behind him. Pete was still wearing that boring, ugly suit. His nose wrinkling, Vegas began peeling the jacket off of him. 

Pete let out a shy giggle, but even as he asked, “What are you doing?”, he still helped Vegas take his outer layer off. 

“I hate this uniform,” Vegas grunted, tossing the jacket aside forcefully. “Come with me, pet.”

As he took Pete’s hand again, he looked up to see that Pete’s eyes had gone a little wide at the nickname. 

“My name is Pete, your-”

“Yes,” Vegas interrupted. “And you’re mine to do with as I please.”

Pete stopped following Vegas at that, forcing Vegas to halt before he was forced to break contact. 

Sounding almost breathless, Pete asked, “And what do you plan on doing with me?”

With a heavy exhale, Vegas slid close, his eyes darting over Pete’s pretty face hungrily. With the hand not clutching Pete’s, Vegas reached up to tug at Pete’s full lower lip. 

With almost a purr, Vegas said, “I plan on doing a great many things with you, Pete.” Pete’s lips parted slightly as he drew in a breath, and Vegas didn’t hesitate to push his thumb into Pete’s mouth. He brushed over Pete’s warm, wet tongue, barely able to maintain his focus. That could wait, though, so Vegas withdrew his thumb to cradle Pete’s jaw. “But first I want to show you your room.”

“My room?” Pete blurted, blinking as he studied Vegas’s gaze. 

“You’re mine,” Vegas explained simply. “I’m going to spoil you.”

He turned around to keep walking, and Pete moved with him easily. 

“You can’t spoil a robot,” Pete muttered. 

Without turning back, Vegas grinned as he murmured, “Watch me.”

The anxiety was already creeping back in as Vegas stood in front of the door that now bore the text, “Pete’s room,” in bold letters. 

Taking a deep breath, Vegas triggered the door to open as he stepped aside so Pete could enter. 

Pete moved hesitantly as he turned in a wide circle. When he faced Vegas again, a warm smile was blooming on his face as he asked, “Is this for me? You did this for me?”

Venice whistled, his treads whirring as he rushed past Vegas to enter Pete’s room, too.

With his screen flashing, Venice said, “Boss worked all weekend to make it nice.”

Pete dropped into a squat to be more level with Venice, and Vegas felt a twinge of jealousy. He had put in the work, but Venice was still stealing Pete’s attention. Did they already like each other because they were both robots?

Clearing his throat loudly, Vegas stepped all the way into the room, eager to be close to Pete again. 

Pete turned to him, his face as open and warm as the sun. 

“Thank you,” Pete breathed, standing again. 

Nodding stiffly, Vegas cleared his throat a little louder as he nudged at Venice’s tread with the toe of his slipper. 

“Out, Venice.”

Pete blinked as Venice let out a series of disgruntled beeps. Even as he complained, though, Venice obeyed the command. When he was gone, Vegas shut the door and turned his full attention to Pete. 

“Now,” Vegas said in a low voice. “Strip.”

*****

Pete’s mouth dropped open at the command, given for the second time now. A part of him reflexively wanted to buck back like last time, but a bigger part of him had secretly been eager for it. Swallowing the saliva pooling in his mouth, Pete began undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

Vegas smirked, stepping closer as he breathed, “Good boy. Or should I say good bot?”

Pete barely repressed the shiver that wanted to course through him at the praise. 

“Good boy sounds nicer,” Pete found himself answering the surely rhetorical question. 

Vegas stepped closer, his fingers finding Pete’s jaw as Pete slipped his shirt off. That was all Vegas had asked of him before, so Pete stopped. 

Vegas was so beautiful, so intoxicatingly close as he studied Pete’s face. 

“Still think you’re human, huh?”

Pete’s stomach flipped, not exactly pleasantly, at the reminder as he carefully said, “No, but you’re supposed to believe I am.”

Vegas’s grip on his chin tightened for a moment before he said, “Touché.”

Pete could only hold still as Vegas’s eyes shuttered. He leaned closer, bracing a palm on Pete’s chest that felt almost scorching in the cold room. Then Vegas was pressing his face against Pete’s skin, tickling him with his nose as he inhaled deeply. 

“You smell so fucking good,” Vegas murmured, pressing more of himself into Pete’s warmth. 

Pete had used a plain soap, at Arm’s direction, to not involve too many scents. That meant Vegas was probably smelling Pete’s natural scent more clearly, and the fact that he seemed to like it so much was making Pete a little dizzy. 

When Vegas dragged his face away from Pete’s chest, he thought he was done. But then Vegas had tipped Pete’s head down to sniff at the crown of his head, and that somehow felt even more intimate as Vegas hummed contentedly. 

“Vegas?” Pete asked in a quiet voice as Vegas’s hands dragged down his torso to find his pants zipper. 

“Almost done,” Vegas replied, easy and confident. 

Pete swallowed, letting Vegas remove his pants, too. 

He wondered for a moment if Vegas would strip off his briefs, too, but Vegas only ran his knuckles over Pete’s thigh before turning Pete toward a door. 

“I got you new clothes,” Vegas explained. “Better clothes. I’ll have Nop burn that suit. It should be a crime to put such an exquisite invention in such hideous garb. 

Pete couldn’t help but smile at the vitriol. He hadn’t been a fan of the shapeless suit, either. It was fine to hide away in, but something about Vegas’s attention made Pete want to preen. It was terrifying. 

Inside the closet, Vegas let go of Pete to start sifting through sweaters. With each one, Vegas brought it close to his face, to check the small pattern or the stitching. 

“Vegas?” 

“Hmm?” 

Vegas found a knit cream-colored sweater, smiling at Pete as he handed it over. 

After Pete had tugged it over his head, marveling at how perfectly it fit, snug enough to be warm while loose enough to be comfortable, he swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and asked, “What does the world look like to you?”

Vegas’s hand paused on a pair of jeans. With a sigh, he also handed those to Pete, who slipped them on, glad for reason not to meet Vegas’s gaze. 

Pete thought for a moment that Vegas was going to ignore the question, but then he said, “It’s unclear. A little hazy. A little…less colorful.”

Pete thought back to the picture Macau had shown him as he explained Vegas’s condition. It seemed cruel that something resembling a vibrant galaxy was responsible for darkening Vegas’s world. 

“Are you going to try and fix it?” 

Immediately, Vegas stiffened. The small walk-in closet which had felt cozy shared between them suddenly felt stifling. 

Not looking at Pete, Vegas’s jaw clenched. Pete wanted to take the words back, but it was too late. He hadn’t meant to imply that Vegas was defective in any way. Pete braced himself instinctively for a blow, but instead, Vegas stormed out of the room entirely. 

Pete was left reeling, unsure how he could have fucked up so severely already and unsure how to even begin to fix it. Quiet as a mouse, Pete stepped out of the closet and over his discarded shirt on the bedroom floor. Without making a sound, he slid the door open on its track just a crack to carefully listen out. He didn’t hear any active destruction, only Venice chirping sadly in the hallway. 

“Venice?” Pete called in a loud whisper. “Can you come here?”

With a beep, Venice rolled into Pete’s room. As the door shut automatically, Pete asked Venice to call Macau. 

“Sure, P’Pete!” Venice replied, helpful but loud, as Pete winced. 

The screen went black, save for a green ringing phone icon, and suddenly Macau’s face filled the screen. 

“Hey, Hi- Oh. P’Pete. Is everything alright?”

Pete sighed, glancing at the door again. 

“I might have messed up.” 

Macau winced, but nodded for Pete to keep going, so he did. 

“We were talking about his condition, and I asked if he was going to try and fix it, and he just stormed out. What do I do?”

Macau sighed heavily, relaxing further into his seat as he leaned closer to his phone. 

“Is he breaking shit?”

Pete listened harder, but still heard nothing. 

“It doesn’t sound like it.”

“That’s good. Just give him a little space. He tends to shut down whenever one of us brings up treatment, so this is normal.”

Despite the reassurance, Pete could still taste bile when he swallowed. 

“What if he hates me now?”

Macau laughed. “Then he would have called Arm or Porsche immediately to take you back. He’s just throwing a tantrum. He’s not used to having other people around. He’s going to scrape a few knees as he learns.”

With a sigh, Pete said, “But he doesn’t have people around, not to him. I’m supposed to be his obedient android.”

Pete shifted his gaze more to Venice, and wondered if he should try and act more like him, just following Vegas’s orders without question and without his own opinions.

“He’ll forgive you, Phi. Just give him a little time.”

Ending the call, Pete left Venice to step back into his closet. In there, he found a sheer shirt and held it over his eyes as he looked around. The room was hazier, the colors muted through the light fabric. Was this how Vegas saw the world? Was this as bad as it would get? Or would he eventually lose even this? Pete knew from his research that treatment might help, but it could only work if Vegas tried. If he wanted to. Pete hoped he wanted to. He wanted to show Vegas more of the world. 

Chapter Text

Pete could only hope he hadn’t completely fucked up everything less than an hour into the job. 

Taking the advice to just give Vegas some space, Pete spent several minutes just inspecting his room. For a space meant for a robot, Vegas had made it surprisingly cozy. There were fairy lights near the bed, which had a thick mattress that bounced a little when Pete sat on it. 

There was a desk in another corner, and Pete found pens and paper in a drawer. Did Vegas expect him to write something?

The connected bathroom was spacious and sparkling, and Pete was grateful he would have privacy for his more…human traits. 

Spinning around, Pete took a closer look at the plants hanging by the large window. The view gave Pete a different look at the grounds behind the house, where there was a whole garden that Pete couldn’t wait to explore. He hoped he got a chance to explore it, at least. 

With a sigh, Pete gathered the courage to leave his room. It was still quiet, so Pete decided to see if there were any chores he could complete. Perhaps that would help persuade Vegas to forgive him. 

There were no dishes to wash, and the floor looked clean, so Pete decided to check the laundry. The basket was full, so Pete figured Vegas had meant to start laundry at some point and had simply forgotten. After checking the tags carefully for care instructions, Pete started a load. 

As he stepped back into the hallway, he spotted a pixelated little face waiting for him. 

“Venice? Is Vegas okay?”

Chirping as he rolled closer, Venice said, “Boss is in his office.”

That wasn’t exactly an answer, and Pete couldn’t help but think about Macau asking if he was breaking things. Perhaps he was just doing it quietly, and Pete had neglected to properly check?

Pete rushed through the massive house, barely processing that Venice was following. When he reached the door to Vegas’s office, he paused to catch his breath and collect himself. Too soon, Venice rolled right by, opening the door automatically and exposing Pete’s presence. 

“Boss!” Venice called. 

Vegas was pouting, his hands in his hair, but he looked up at the bot. 

“P’Pete came to see you.”

Pete didn’t know if he wanted to thank Venice or kick him when Vegas turned to look at him. 

“Hi,” Pete mumbled awkwardly as he stepped fully into the room. 

Vegas leaned back in his seat, a mask of indifference slipping over his face that Pete detested. 

“Come to lecture me about my eyes again?”

Pete took a slow breath. He knew he couldn’t do his job properly if Vegas didn’t trust him, if Vegas didn’t want him. He needed to find a way to get back to the scarily comfortable intimacy Vegas shared a few nights before. 

Rather than respond right away, Pete first closed the distance between them, going so far as to squeeze himself between Vegas and his desk so that he stood between Vegas’s spread legs. 

The casual proximity immediately had the desired effect. Vegas’s soft pout returned, but this time his cheeks turned a lovely pink. 

Taking another slow, deep breath, Pete reached to run his hands through Vegas’s hair. Vegas flinched for the briefest moment before leaning into the touch, seemingly against his own volition. He sighed, his face relaxing, and something warm began to hum inside of Pete. He was making Vegas feel good, but he could do better. 

Letting his fingers drag over Vegas’s skin, poking at a beautiful mole on his cheek, Pete dropped to his knees. 

“Vegas,” he called gently. “I’m sorry that I upset you earlier.” Pete knew Vegas struggled to trust, but what reason would a robot have to lie? Pete would need to be very clear to prevent future misunderstandings. 

Tilting his head just a little, Pete put a hand on Vegas’s knee, feeling him spread his legs even wider in response. This job was going to be even more dangerous than Pete had anticipated, with how perfectly Vegas responded to him. 

“I know you’re probably just programmed to be concerned about my sight.”

Pete frowned at that. 

“I’m concerned about you, Vegas. I just want you to have the best life you can, but I did not mean to imply there was anything wrong with you being just the way you are.”

“And,” Vegas said in a strained voice, licking his lips as he reached to thumb at Pete’s bottom lip, “How am I? Just as I am.”

Pete grinned, taking in the gorgeous man before him. Before he could stop himself, Pete sucked Vegas’s thumb into his mouth, delighting in the soft little moan the move pulled from Vegas. 

Pete swirled his tongue around Vegas’s thumb, suddenly wanting to use his mouth elsewhere. He could already tell he practically had Vegas wrapped around his finger, the man just needed a little push. 

Gazing up at Vegas through his lashes, Pete said, “I think you’re perfect.”

*****

Vegas swallowed audibly. Pete on his knees for Vegas had his brain short-circuiting. He could barely remember why he had gotten so upset before. It all seemed so silly. 

Pete was staring up at him, his eyes staggering and sultry, and Vegas was getting harder in his pants by the second. 

A chirp reminded him they weren’t alone, though. 

Pete blinked as Vegas quickly said, “Venice, leave the room.”

A trill came as a reply as Venice wheeled himself out. 

Once they were alone, Pete smiled, his hands crawling up Vegas’s thighs. 

“Pete, do you know what you’re doing?”

“I told you, I have autonomy.”

Vegas groaned as Pete’s hand brushed over his straining zipper. 

“You were the one who said you weren’t a sex doll.”

Pete shrugged and said, "Doesn't mean I can’t be used like one.”

A laugh forced itself from Vegas’s chest. He was convinced he was dreaming. 

“Is this your boyfriend mode?”

It was Pete’s turn to laugh, and Vegas would swear he was already addicted to the sound.

Rather than answer, Pete said, “I really like my room.”

That also made Vegas feel hot in a way he never had before. It was not often that he even attempted to do something nice for someone, especially in the last several years, but he had promised himself he would take the best care of his pet that he could. Knowing that Pete appreciated the effort Vegas had put in, enough that he got on his knees, made Vegas feel tipsy. 

“I-” Vegas muttered, feeling carved open. “I’ve never-”

Pete surged closer, pushing a finger against Vegas’s lips to silence him. 

“I’ve got you,” Pete said. “Will you let me take care of you?”

Even as he was certain Porsche and Arm, and even Macau, were going to kill him for debasing their android, Vegas reminded himself that Pete was his. It was their fault for designing him with such a tempting mouth. 

With a nod, Vegas rested a hand on Pete’s head. He wasn’t trying to guide him, at least not yet, he just wanted to touch him. 

Pete broke eye contact as he began undoing the front of Vegas’s pants. Vegas didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t for Pete to lift his shirt out of the way to trail open-mouthed kisses across Vegas’s abdomen. It tickled while also stoking a fire deep in Vegas’s belly. 

“This okay?” Pete asked, his cheeks a little flushed and his lips shining as he got Vegas’s fly open.

“Very,” Vegas huffed. He couldn’t get over how real Pete looked and felt. Clearly, Arm had outdone himself and everyone else. 

Then, Pete began to mouth at Vegas through his briefs, sucking as his tongue spread saliva, and Vegas threw his head back as he ground forward into the damp pressure. 

“More,” he begged. And Vegas could beg, because Pete wasn’t going to judge him. Pete was his. There were none of those pesky human emotional barriers between them, like shame or insecurity. 

Pete hummed, tugging the band of Vegas’s briefs down until Vegas’s cock sprang free, flushed and leaking. Vegas watched Pete’s face, brushing his fingers through Pete’s hair affectionately. The android even seemed affected. 

“You’ve seen a cock before,” Vegas teased. 

Not tearing his eyes away from the sight, Pete muttered, “Not one this pretty.”

At that moment, Vegas didn’t even care if Pete had been programmed to be partial to him. 

His cock pulsed in the air between them, and then Pete was rubbing his lips over the head. His tongue darted out, licking up the precum spilling out. Vegas could only let out a curse as Pete took Vegas between those sublime lips, his tongue pressing up against his frenulum. 

He was warm, and wet, and fucking perfect. 

Pete bobbed his head a few times, then his cheeks hollowed as he sucked. 

“Fuck,” Vegas hissed, his fingers tightening in Pete’s hair. He didn’t think it could get any better, but then Pete took him even deeper and hummed. Without meaning to, Vegas tugged Pete closer as he slid forward in his seat. Pete sounded surprised but he made no move to shift himself away. He just swallowed, and Vegas was suddenly coming, filling the android as he swelled hotly in Pete’s tight heat. 

Pete only swallowed again, dragging his tongue over Vegas’s softening cock as Vegas twitched, overly sensitive. 

As Vegas collapsed back in his chair, petting Pete clumsily, Pete tucked him back into his pants and zipped him up. 

“Sorry,” Vegas mumbled. Pete had rested his cheek on the inside of Vegas’s thigh for a moment, but at the sound of his apology, the android stood. 

“Come here.”

Pete tugged Vegas to his feet, then turned them around so he could sit and pull Vegas in to straddle his lap. 

Vegas went limp at the closeness as his orgasm made everything even hazier than usual. He let his full weight press into Pete’s chest and lap as he tucked his face against Pete’s neck and inhaled deeply. 

Pete’s arms wrapped tightly around Vegas as he asked, “Why are you sorry?”

Vegas shrugged, not wanting to leave the safe space behind Pete’s ear to speak. He wanted to be closer. With a whine, Vegas tugged at Pete’s sweater until Pete helped him get it off. Vegas discarded his own shirt in record time so he could press close again, skin to skin. 

Pete went back to rubbing Vegas’s back, and Vegas couldn’t help but tremble at the sensation and the tenderness. 

With a sigh, Vegas finally said, “I didn’t mean to be so rough. I didn’t damage any gears or anything, did I?”

Before Vegas could try and pry Pete’s mouth open to stare down his throat, Pete laughed and grabbed his hands. 

“I’m undamaged. And I liked it.”

“You did?” Vegas blinked, Pete’s exquisite face inches away from his. 

“I like making you feel good. And I like giving you what you want. What you need.”

That made sense. Once again, it was as if they had reached into the deepest parts of Vegas when designing Pete. But Pete’s whole purpose–the reason for his existence–was to make Vegas happy.

“I want that, too,” Vegas blurted. “I want to give you whatever you want.”

Pete smiled, his hand sliding up Vegas’s arm to pull him into a tight embrace again. Instantly, Vegas melted. Just being close to Pete affected him, body and soul. It made him feel calm, cherished. 

For a time, they just breathed together as Vegas lazily played with Pete’s hair. Just before Vegas could drift off to sleep, however, his stomach grumbled loudly. 

“Okay,” Pete exclaimed dryly. “Let’s get some food. Then, can you show me around the garden?”

Vegas smiled, his fingers curling around Pete’s pale neck as he leaned back. Pete was asking for what he wanted, so Vegas could only nod. 

“Of course. I’d be happy to.”

Chapter Text

Pete helped Vegas put his shirt back on before picking up his discarded sweater and slipping it on. He missed the feeling of Vegas pressed against his bare skin, but Pete knew it would only be a matter of time before he had that again. 

Vegas was obviously touch-starved and desperate for affection. He wasn’t as pushy or as greedy as Pete expected him to be, though. He was actually quite considerate. And sweet. He was certainly sweet, alright. 

Pete could still taste him in his mouth. 

He hadn’t been unaffected, but had managed to keep himself mostly soft as he focused on Vegas’s pleasure. By the time Vegas was securely in his lap, clinging to him, Pete had gotten himself settled again. 

Pete had enjoyed cuddling, too. Vegas’s weight felt right in Pete’s lap, like he was meant to be there, and they fit together so comfortably. Vegas seemed to agree, seeing as he almost fell asleep in Pete’s hold as he self-soothed by playing with Pete’s hair. That felt nice, too. 

So Pete let Vegas take his hand and lead him to the kitchen. 

“Arm said you eat,” Vegas said. 

“I’m very advanced.”

Vegas turned, his eyes very obviously finding Pete’s mouth as he muttered, “Evidently.”

Pete failed to contain his self-satisfied smirk. 

Knowing it was what Vegas preferred, Pete let him take the lead in the kitchen. Vegas seemed quite comfortable there, grabbing the ingredients he wanted without really looking. Pete was momentarily caught by how gracefully he moved. He looked forward to seeing Vegas move around in just his silk robe. 

“Can I help?” Pete asked, feeling a bit awkward just staring. 

Before Vegas could answer, Venice came rolling down the hall. 

“Washer is done, P’Pete.”

“Thank you, Venice,” Pete replied automatically, but when he looked back at Vegas, he was scowling. 

“You did the laundry?”

Pete could sense from his tone there was a landmine nearby, and he didn’t want to wait to find out if it would detonate or not. 

“This time,” Pete replied easily. “I just wanted to help. If you like, we can finish the laundry together.”

Vegas narrowed his eyes, the knife in his hand looking more menacing than it had when he was cutting the tofu. 

“Did you do it because you think I can’t?”

Whether he was meant to be in friend or boyfriend mode, Pete rolled his eyes. Vegas was so easy for him to read. He had been through the same thing with Yaai before she went into the hospital. She was stubbornly independent, too. 

Taking a risk, what with the knife still in Vegas’s hand, Pete shuffled over to him, wrapping his hands around Vegas’s waist. And oh, how perfectly they settled there. Vegas had a strong core and a narrow waist. Pete’s brain buzzed with thoughts of Vegas using that core strength and toned thighs to ride him.

“Pete?” Vegas called, sounding more concerned than upset. “Did you glitch or something?”

“Sorry,” Pete blurted, blinking rapidly. Thinking quickly, he said, “Just a slight processing delay.”

Vegas pouted at that, and Pete wanted to eat him alive. No wonder he hadn’t found the right guy yet. He had been locked away in an ivory tower. 

“Well, tell Arm to have a look at you while you charge tonight,” Vegas ordered, turning to try and go back to what he was doing. 

Pete wasn’t done yet, though, so he spun Vegas back around by his hips. 

“You asked if I thought you couldn’t do the laundry.”

“It’s fine,” Vegas huffed. “That's why you’re here.”

“No,” Pete insisted. “I know you are capable of doing your own laundry, Vegas. I helped because I wanted to. I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Blinking slowly, Vegas leaned in closer, studying Pete’s expression, and Pete just let him. 

“You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you, pet?”

Pete’s grip on Vegas tautened reflexively at the designation. He had disliked it before, but after having Vegas’s fingers tighten in his hair as he came, unable to even pace himself with how good Pete was making him feel, it hit differently. 

“Yes,” Pete breathed. 

For the next three months, Pete thought, I’m all yours.

Vegas gave him a genuine, fond smile, and Pete’s chest swelled. 

“Then you can start by getting the soy sauce.”

Pete grinned, finally releasing Vegas to do as he asked. 

“Okay, house rules,” Vegas said. “I need you to put things–especially food–back exactly where you got them from. Macau once put the salt where I kept the sugar and I had to throw my coffee out.”

“Put things where they go,” Pete repeated. “Got it.”

“And keep spaces free of clutter so I don’t trip. That, and certain things can block Venice’s mobility or tie up his treads.”

Pete sidled up just behind and to the side of Vegas, who jumped a little when he turned to find him there. 

“And don’t sneak up on me. My peripheral vision is especially bad.”

“Sorry,” Pete said. 

Vegas tugged the hem of Pete’s sweater, pulling him closer, and Pete went easily, happy to feel so wanted. 

*****

Vegas didn’t want to stop touching Pete. Luckily, Pete was his to touch anytime he wanted. It was especially nice touching him so freely after the intimacy they had shared in his office. 

So Vegas slipped his greedy fingers under Pete’s sweater to feel along his side and stomach. Pete was still so warm and soft. Vegas let himself think about just keeping Pete nude to have easier access to his skin, but then Macau might video call or Nop might come in. Vegas didn’t want to share Pete with anyone else. 

Venice chirped, announcing, “Boss, it’ll rain in about two hours.”

Vegas sighed. Pete had asked to see the garden, but he needed to eat first, so Vegas sorely took his hand away from Pete to finish cooking. 

Once the food was ready, Vegas sat with Pete at the table. He hadn’t shared a meal with anyone in years, and that realization nearly choked him up. 

“Here,” Vegas said, fondness coloring his voice as he offered Pete the first bite. 

As Pete leaned forward to wrap those sinful lips around the fork, Vegas regretted not just feeding Pete with his fingers. Instead, Vegas made up for it by wiping some sauce from Pete’s lip. He thought about pressing his thumb into Pete’s mouth, but he was still chewing, so Vegas took the opportunity to put his thumb in his own mouth. 

“It’s really good,” Pete moaned, his eyes closing. 

“I bet you say that to all the humans,” Vegas teased. 

Taking his own bite as Pete kept eating with a delighted hum, Vegas leaned his head to the side. “Can you actually taste?”

Like he was reading from a manual, Pete said evenly, “I have receptors for all five human senses.” 

That knowledge did strange things to Vegas. 

“So you really think it tastes good?”

Pete grinned, nodding as he ate more. 

Vegas leaned a little closer so their thighs were pressed together firmly. The touch felt even more electric as Vegas asked, “And how did I taste?”

Pete coughed a little, making Vegas’s smile drop immediately. Instinctively, he began to pound on Pete’s back as Pete drank some water. 

Once Pete settled again, Vegas asked, “Can robots choke? Arm said you needed to breathe…” He would have to be more careful with his android. 

But then Pete said, “You can try again later.”

It took Vegas a moment to register that Pete was referring to his cock. 

“Are you flirting with me, pet?”

Pete smiled, flashing his perfect teeth, and lifted his fork to Vegas’s mouth. 

“I thought that was what we were doing. Since you wanted me in boyfriend mode. If you prefer, I can go back to-”

Covering Pete’s mouth as he swallowed his food quickly, Vegas said, “No! Boyfriend mode is good. Stay in that.”

Leaning closer again, Vegas gripped Pete’s chin and added, “But only for me. If you meet anyone else, you can be friendly. But only I get to touch you.”

With a light chuckle, Pete said, “That might make repairs difficult.”

Vegas frowned. He kept forgetting he wouldn’t have access to Pete 24/7. 

“I suppose they can touch you. For repairs. They are your makers, after all.”

After that, they finished eating, grinning at one another like they were high school sweethearts stealing a moment in the cafeteria between classes. It felt a little odd, but nice, to wash the dishes with Pete there to help. 

With the weather report in mind, Vegas dragged Pete outside so they could explore the garden like he wanted. Vegas did not usually spend much time out there, but it felt new and exciting to show it to Pete. It was relaxing to stroll casually as Pete took his time, making Vegas slow down and literally smell the roses. 

The petals tickled Vegas’s nose, but the soothing scents were worth the slight discomfort. 

Everything was going well, until Vegas turned the corner and saw Nop, who was trimming some bushes. 

“Fuck,” Vegas hissed, grabbing Pete’s arm as he hid behind him. 

“Sorry, Khun Vegas,” Nop said. “I just wanted to do some landscaping before it rained. It’s supposed to really come down for a few days.”

“It’s fine,” Vegas replied tersely, tugging Pete with him as he put even more distance between them and Nop. They were outside, reducing Vegas’s likelihood of having a reaction, but he didn’t want to risk it, having left Venice and his medicine inside. 

With his face pressed between Pete’s shoulder blades, he heard Nop shout, “So, is this the companion I’ve heard about?”

“Yes,” Pete replied. “You can call me Pete.”

“Khun Pete. I’m Nop.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Pete said kindly, reaching back to squeeze Vegas’s hand, which had started trembling. “I am sorry, but I should get Vegas back inside before it rains.”

“Of course,” Nop called. “Nice to meet you.”

Vegas could only take in a shuddering breath before Pete spun around and lifted Vegas effortlessly to carry him inside. Vegas held on tight, pressing his face into Pete’s neck as he closed his eyes. He was so focused on keeping his breathing steady that it took him a moment to realize that Pete was trying to deposit him onto the sofa. 

Vegas unclenched his limbs from around Pete but kept him close as some sort of compromise. 

Pete just knelt between his knees and reached up to stroke Vegas’s face. 

“Are you okay? Do you need your medicine?”

Pete turned, likely to call for Venice, but Vegas felt the loss of eye contact like a slap. Quickly, he turned Pete to look at him again. There was something about his eyes that Vegas wanted to get lost in. 

“I’m okay. I’ll be okay. Thank you.”

Vegas was shaken up, but he was breathing. 

“Let me see,” Pete said, lifting Vegas’s shirt to examine his chest before he said, “You look alright.”

“I’m fine,” Vegas insisted, even as he tugged at Pete’s shoulders. “Just hold me.”

In seconds, Pete was on the sofa and Vegas had squirreled into his lap.

“You’re okay,” Pete murmured into Vegas’s hair. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

Vegas let himself go limp as he exhaled heavily. He wished he had had Pete the previous week when he had had a reaction. It was so much nicer to shake apart in Pete’s strong arms than it was to be alone. 

Once Vegas completely stopped quivering, Pete asked, “Can you tell me about it?”

Shifting so he could see Pete’s face, Vegas swallowed. He could trust Pete. Pete was only there to look after him. He stared at Pete, trying to distinguish each of his long lashes individually, and feeling frustrated with himself when he couldn’t. At least he could spot a mole on Pete’s cheek. The attention to detail really was superb. 

“I’m allergic to people,” Vegas expelled from his lungs in a burning rush. “It started off with me worrying that I might, I don’t know, trigger Macau into BCD presenting in him, too. Then, I had to worry about spreading it to anyone, after my father took me to a specialist. Just being around people would stress me out. I would get itchy, then it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Until, one day, I couldn’t breathe. I broke out in hives. My family sent for a doctor, and my uncle moved me here, away from the crowded city.”

Pete continued rubbing the small of Vegas’s back as he said, “That sounds scary. And very lonely.”

The next thing Vegas knew, his nose was burning with saline. Tears wavered in his eyes, blurring his vision even more. 

“I’m not allergic to you.”

Pete grinned, reaching to brush Vegas’s unshed tears away before they could fall, and that made him want to cry even more. 

“No,” Pete replied calmly. “You’re not allergic to me.”

Vegas buried his face into Pete’s neck again as he whispered, “Please, don’t ever leave me.”

Pete hummed, and Vegas drifted off to sleep. 

Chapter Text

Pete certainly had a memorable first day. Vegas had an orgasm, and later had cried and fallen asleep in Pete’s arms after nearly having an allergic reaction to the groundskeeper. He was a whirlwind of feelings and Pete found them all equally intoxicating. Vegas was both a deviant creature, yanking Pete every which direction emotionally, yet completely predictable in how he reacted to Pete. 

Pete felt drunk on the power Vegas let him yield. 

After Vegas’s nap, the man shut himself away in his office with Venice when Kinn called. Pete needed the toilet, anyway, so he kept himself busy until Vegas found him sketching flowers in his room. Pete quickly hid the papers, for some reason, and Vegas didn’t pry. They cooked more, did chores, and as the day ended, Pete read to Vegas while he relaxed in the bath. 

Though he blushed a little, Vegas seemed comfortable being nude around Pete. 

As for Pete…

Well, Pete was glad he had a book covering his lap. 

The sight of Vegas spread out so invitingly in the tub certainly was distracting. He was gorgeous, especially so confidently relaxed. 

Pete hadn’t been convinced he had a type, but after seeing Vegas, he knew he had just needed the right example. 

Vegas had sharp cheekbones but pillowy lips. His face could exude learned cruelty just as easily as innocent curiosity. He was a wonder. 

After his bath, Pete tucked Vegas into bed. Vegas had held his hand until Venice rolled in to announce that Arm had arrived to pick up Pete. 

Vegas had scowled. 

“Venice, you added Pete to the lock log, right?”

“What’s that?” Pete asked. 

Venice chirped affirmatively, rolling to his charging port as Vegas explained, “Venice controls the house. The lights, music, screens. He also unlocks the doors. Me, Macau, and Nop have universal access. And now you. So you can come and go as you want. The others have to rely on either myself or Venice letting them in.”

Rubbing his thumb against Pete’s hand, Vegas turned to stare at where they were joined, his voice lowering as he asked, “You will come back, right?”

Pete tugged Vegas’s hand until Vegas met his gaze again. 

Leaning close so Vegas could see him better, Pete promised, “Always.”

Vegas held on for as long as he could until Pete slipped out of his grasp. As Pete met Arm outside, all he could think about was how being so needed had never made him feel quite so buoyant. 

It was awkward, being in the van alone with Arm, so Pete just stared out the window. There wasn’t much to see, since it was dark out, but Pete wasn’t really looking. He was thinking about Vegas, and how he only had three more months with him, unless he could find another solution. 

“You’re quiet,” Arm said. “Was your first day that bad?”

“It was good,” Pete replied dryly. “Great, actually. I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

Annoyed at the persistent interruptions, Pete snapped, “About how someone I would barely qualify as an ex spent years making a fucking robot that looked exactly like me.”

Arm sighed, rolling his window down to let in some fresh air. 

“I don’t know how to apologize, Pete. I never meant to make you uncomfortable-”

“Because I was never supposed to find out, right?”

Pete scowled at his reflection in the window as he realized. 

“Porsche knew, didn’t he?”

“Not until more recently. He’s been helping Khun Kinn with the business more.”

Was Porsche planning on telling Pete? He thought they were friends. 

“I really didn’t have bad intentions,” Arm insisted. “I just always thought you were perfect.”

“And that was the problem,” Pete exhaled. “I’m not perfect. Never have been. I’m not even that good. I’m just a guy.”

Glancing at Pete, Arm pushed, “But Khun Vegas thinks you’re perfect, doesn’t he?”

“That’s different,” Pete fussed, squirming as he adjusted his seatbelt. “He’s not supposed to see me as human. I’m not supposed to have any wants other than to fulfill his. Speaking of which, why the fuck is the android anatomically correct?”

Arm blushed dark enough for Pete to see in the passing streetlights. 

“He, uh, you see… It’s for realism. That’s all.”

Pete rolled his eyes, going back to staring out his window. 

“You’ve never even seen my dick.”

“Khun Vegas won’t, either.”

“He hasn't yet. But I’m sure he will soon enough.”

Pete lurched forward as Arm slammed on the brakes. Luckily, there was no one behind them. 

“Jesus,” Pete hissed, quickly bracing himself on the dash as they came to a full stop.

“What do you mean?” Arm practically yelled. “I told him you’re not–he’s not–you’re not a sex doll!”

As he leaned back in his seat, Pete calmly replied, “Then plan on making updates. I already blew him, and I’m certain we’ll get up to much more before I’m out of there.”

“You- You-” Arm made incoherent noises that delighted Pete’s petty side. Arm and Pol had insisted on knowing anything important in regards to Vegas’s interactions with PET3, so they could try to make the later transition more seamless, but Pete couldn’t help but get a little sick delight from upsetting Arm so much when he deserved worse. 

The rest of the short ride was silent. 

Back at the lab, Pete gave them a shortened version of the day’s events as he scarfed down instant noodles. He left out the more personal details, and not just because Macau was present. 

When he was done, Arm pulled Pol aside, likely to speak in private about Pete’s earlier admission. As soon as they left, Macau sidled up right next to Pete with a grin. 

“It sounds like Hia has taken quite a liking to you.”

Pete couldn’t exactly say aloud that the feeling was mutual, so he just smiled. 

Then, Macau twisted in his chair to gaze over at where PET3 was lying, perfectly still. 

“It’s almost a shame we’ll be replacing you with him later, even if we have put in a lot of effort into PET3…”

Pete felt his chest tighten and tried to brush it off as heartburn from eating his noodles too fast. 

“I’m sure he’ll be perfect for Vegas. Once he’s fixed.”

“Yeah…” Macau trailed off, jolting when his phone rang. “Shit, that’s Hia. I’ll be back.”

Left alone with the android, Pete got up, peering over his shoulder as he crossed the room. 

It really was a fascinating piece of technology. Pete leaned closer to see where each strand of hair had been attached. It must’ve taken hours for such meticulous work. 

Next, Pete examined the face. It was the face he saw in photos rather than the mirror, so it still felt surreal to see it in person. Pete poked at the plush bottom lip, and as it gave way, he thought about the vision Vegas must have had that morning when Pete was on his knees for him. 

Something acrid burned in Pete as he thought about PET3 on his knees for Vegas. Would the thing even know what to do? It wouldn’t appreciate Vegas’s flavor, or his weight on its tongue. It wouldn’t think to apply pressure just under the head of his cock to make him feel even more pleasure. 

Pete sneered, leaning closer to whisper, “You’ll never be able to replace me. Not really. We’ll have to pretend you’ve been rebooted, your memory wiped.”

That was the plan, but Pete was starting to resent it. It wasn’t as if he could walk away with a wiped memory, with a fresh start. He would forever be changed by his time spent with Vegas. 

“You’ll never be his pet. Not like I am.”

The android’s eyes opened, making Pete jump back as he screamed. 

“Hello,” PET3 said. 

As his heart still thundered in his chest from the shock, Pete crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Hi.”

PET3 blinked, drawing Pete’s attention once more to how flat his eyes looked. 

Letting his eyes trail down PET3’s body, Pete huffed in distaste. 

“Maybe I’ll just ruin him for you, then pull your plug.”

PET3 only smiled. “Whatever I can do to serve.”

“Gross.”

“Oh,” Arm called. “Is he online?”

Pete stepped out of the way so Arm could get closer. He spoke gently to PET3, helping him sit up slowly. 

“He’s so good with him,” Pol suddenly said, as if he were talking about a baby and not a robot modeled after a fully grown man. The look in his eyes was fond, much warmer than Pete expected from just an assistant. 

Together, they watched as Arm checked PET3’s reflexes. 

“I suppose it does feel weirdly like the two of you conceived and raised him.”

Pol laughed, pulling Pete aside. 

“It does. Sorry if that’s weird. Arm adores him. He really wants to learn from him so we can help others. And he’s still quite fond of you, too.”

Pete shrugged. If Arm was still hung up on him, that wasn’t Pete’s fault. He did feel a little bad for Pol, though, who seemed to be harboring a not-so-subtle crush. 

“That’s why he was so shocked earlier,” Pol continued. “When you told him what happened today.”

Pete couldn’t help but want to defend his actions, to defend Vegas. 

“He wants a companion. I want to provide that in every sense of the word.”

“Until PET3 takes over those duties,” Pol reminded him with a knowing look in his eyes.

That sour taste returned to Pete’s mouth, so he quickly asked, “Isn’t it time for me to go back?”

“I’ll drop him off,” Pol offered, as Arm still seemed busy with PET3. 

“Wait for me!” Macau blurted, emerging once more. 

At least Pete wouldn’t have to ride awkwardly alone with Pol. He owed Macau. 

All the way back to the house, Macau chattered non-stop, relaying his whole conversation with Vegas to Pete. 

“And then Hia wouldn’t shut up about how nice you are, and how much he already likes having you around.”

“That’s good, right?” Pete checked. 

“It’s amazing, P’Pete. The fact that you already got him just to go outside is a huge step.”

Pete worried his lip between his teeth.

“Macau, can I send you a list of things I want through Venice? You can take it out of my pay, or-”

Macau snorted. “We can order you anything you want. Just tell Venice to email me and I’ll coordinate with Nop.”

“Thanks.”

“Oop!” Macau suddenly yelped, dropping down and out of sight. When Pete looked through the windshield, he saw why. 

Vegas was standing in the driveway by the fountain, waiting for them. 

“Oh, he’s whipped,” Macau whispered with a small laugh as Pete shushed him unnecessarily. 

“I’d better let you out here,” Pol said, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “Khun Vegas asked us to not take you so often for charging, so we’ll go with a Monday-Wednesday-Friday schedule. And next Sunday is your first long break.”

“Thanks,” Pete said, already slipping free of his seat belt and reaching for the door handle before the van was properly stopped. 

Vegas squinted a little, but he relaxed as soon as he saw it was Pete getting out, alone. 

He hadn’t been gone long at all, but Pete was surprised by how much he had missed Vegas. They had only spent the day together, but he was already eager to be close to Vegas once more. 

“Hi,” Vegas called, sounding a little breathless. As the van turned around, Pete caught the pink in Vegas’s cheeks. Automatically, he reached out to cup Vegas’s face. He was slightly chilled. After the rain and after the sun had gone down, the temperature had dropped significantly. 

“How long have you been out here?” Pete asked. 

Vegas shrugged, pulling Pete closer by the front of his sweater. 

“Not long.”

That was a lie, but Pete only said, “Let’s get you back in bed.”

Depositing Vegas on his bed, Pete said he would be right back, he just needed to get ready for bed. After he showered and brushed his teeth, Pete slipped into some sweats and a loose shirt. When he slipped back into Vegas’s room, he was still awake, waiting for him. 

“You came back,” Vegas said. 

Pete smiled, crawling into the bed with him. “I said I would. Now, sleep. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

As expected, Vegas slid over to lay his head on Pete’s chest. 

What Pete didn’t expect was to also fall asleep. 

Chapter Text

Before he opened his eyes in the morning, Vegas reached out, his hand searching for Pete’s familiar warmth but finding only cool sheets. He blinked heavily, sighing as he pushed himself upright. The only robot in the room was Venice, who-

…Wasn’t even in the room. 

Furrowing his brow, Vegas glanced around the dim room. He sighed, stretching, and stumbled his way to the bathroom to relieve himself and wash up. After dressing in only black briefs and his silk robe, Vegas went out to find his pet. 

It wasn’t hard, as all he had to do was follow the sound of music to the kitchen. 

“Venice, can you add some fruit to the shopping list? Whatever Vegas likes.”

“You got it,” Venice trilled. 

Vegas wasn’t used to so much boisterous noise so early, but he did quite enjoy watching Pete moving around so freely. 

“Good morning, Boss,” Venice chirped, rolling over. 

“Oh,” Pete said, spinning around with a smile. “You’re awake.”

Rather than respond, Vegas sleepily pressed his face into Pete’s chest, wrapping his arms around Pete’s waist. Just like he hoped, Pete curled around him, resting his cheek on top of Vegas’s head. 

With his eyes half-closed, Vegas leaned back to blink sleepily at Pete who was still smiling as he brushed some hair out of Vegas’s face. 

“What are you doing?” Vegas asked, and not can you be there when I wake up?

“Seeing what groceries and supplies we need. Macau said I could also order some things.”

Vegas frowned. He was supposed to be spoiling his pet, not Macau. 

“Whatever you want, pet.”

Peeling away, Vegas moved to make himself a cup of coffee as he rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes. 

To his surprise, his days continued like that. It was both completely different than before and as if that was how it had always been. 

He still did his chores, cooked, and worked in his office. Throughout the day, there were constant reminders that Pete was there, though. It was no longer just himself and Venice. 

Pete was not so underfoot as Venice, and would sometimes disappear for hours while Vegas  was busy. But he was there whenever Vegas wanted him, ready with a smile and open arms. 

Vegas hated when Pete had to leave to charge. He had felt a bit silly, waiting for Pete in the driveway the first night, but it had been worth the night chill to see Pete’s face that much sooner. 

The next time, though, Pete had asked him to stay inside, out of the rain and cold. 

So Vegas had stayed right inside the first door, throwing his arms around Pete as soon as he returned. 

The next day, though, Pete had disappeared again. Vegas had been on an early morning call with Macau, catching up. He hadn’t intended the call to go for so long, but it turned out that he had a lot to say about Pete, even after less than a week of having him. 

Talking about Pete just made him miss him, so Vegas ended the call with the excuse that Macau should probably go to bed. 

He started by checking Pete’s room, knocking on the door before he realized what he had done. It was his house, and Pete was his, so why was he knocking?

He sighed, remembering how insistent Macau was about Vegas treating Pete like a full person. That included having basic manners, he supposed. 

There was no answer, so Vegas let himself in. The room was neat, though Vegas could tell that Pete spent time in there. That made him happy. It meant that Pete really did find the space welcoming. He even remembered to water the plants that Vegas had hung to liven up the place. 

Out the window, Vegas could see that it was still pouring rain, making the world a gray haze in constant motion. Pete wouldn’t be out in the garden, then. 

He checked the library, the gym, the kitchen. No sign of him. 

“Venice,” Vegas called, waiting for the peep of a reply before he asked, “Do you know where Pete went?”

“P’Pete wanted to go for a swim.”

Vegas sucked in a breath. It was the one place he wouldn’t think to check, because it was the room he tried to forget existed. 

Nop kept up with the maintenance on the pool, so it was always ready if Vegas decided to swim a few laps, but he couldn’t bring himself to even look at the thing. It wasn’t the same pool, but it was close enough. 

With a steady exhale, Vegas said, “Okay. I’ll go find him.”

There were a few steps to get up to the pool, so Venice couldn’t follow. It was the one area of the house that wasn’t flat. 

Vegas could smell the chlorine as soon as he opened the door to the pool area. The cement steps were cool as he climbed them. He waited for a splash, an indicator that Pete was swimming, but there was nothing but the hum of the pump. The pool wasn’t all that big, it was more of a large plunge pool, but Vegas suddenly worried that Pete might be at the bottom. Did he even know how to swim? 

Inching forward anxiously, Vegas peered into the blue water. It was hard to see, but he couldn’t make out any shapes at the bottom. It wouldn’t have been the first time Vegas had failed to notice, though, so he got on his knees, swallowing as he leaned closer. 

“Vegas?”

Pete’s voice echoed in the room, nearly sending Vegas forward and into the water. 

Bottling his fear, Vegas snapped, “Where were you?”

Pete’s hand paused where it was drying his hair with a small towel. 

“I…I went for a swim. And then had a shower in the locker room to wash off the chlorine. Is that not allowed?”

Pushing himself away from the edge of the pool, Vegas sighed. As he took in the sight of Pete, hair still damp, in nothing but loose shorts, he said, “No, it’s fine. You’re allowed to use the pool whenever you want.”

Pete grinned, wrapping the towel around his shoulder as he moved closer to tug at the hem of Vegas’s shirt. 

“Did you miss me?”

Vegas nodded before he could stop. “I was talking with Cau about you, and then I wanted to see you.”

Pete hummed, his eyes going a little wider. 

“I want you to give me a bath,” Vegas said. “I’m feeling a little anxious.”

Without waiting for Pete’s response, Vegas turned to get out of there. He hadn’t been planning on a bath, but he wanted Pete to touch him. What better excuse than a bath?

As soon as Vegas made it to his room, he stripped his clothes off, tossing them into the hamper in the corner. 

“Come here,” Vegas commanded, even though Pete was already dutifully following. While he waited for the tub to fill, he pressed Pete up against the sink to blow dry his hair for him. Pete had to sink down a little for him to reach easier, and the position had one of Pete’s thighs trapped between Vegas’s. Vegas’s cock was being teased by the soft fabric of Pete’s shorts, but that was nothing compared to the heat of Pete’s large hand landing on his bare hip. 

He could also feel the heat of Pete’s eyes on him, and Vegas cleared his throat subtly. 

“If you keep looking at me like that…”

“You’ll what?” Pete teased, moving closer to brush the button of his nose over Vegas’s cheek. His hands slid up to Vegas’s waist, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

Vegas set the hairdryer aside. Pete’s hair was dry enough, and there was no way Vegas could concentrate with the way Pete’s mouth was gliding over his throat. 

Vegas ground against Pete’s thigh, just lightly, but then Pete’s hands were gripping his ass and tugging him closer. 

“Pete,” Vegas gasped, his hands grabbing onto Pete’s shoulders to keep his balance. Not that Pete would let him fall, but Vegas needed to hold onto something. 

“Do you want to come now, or in the bath?” Pete asked, his voice low and lulling. 

Vegas had almost forgotten all about the bath, but as he turned, he saw that the tub was almost full. 

“The bath.”

Pete nipped at his jugular, sending a shiver through Vegas. It both terrified and exhilarated him, how much of his safety he put into Pete’s care. He was rolling over, showing Pete his most vulnerable pressure points, both physically and emotionally, and trusting that Pete wouldn’t hurt him. 

Then Pete was lifting him easily, trapping Vegas’s swollen cock between their stomachs. Vegas couldn’t help but grind a little in the brief time it took for Pete to set him in the tub. 

“Is the water alright?” Pete asked, reaching to turn the spigot off. 

“It’s good,” Vegas mumbled, carefully sitting on his bottom as he let the water warm as much of his skin as it could reach. 

Pete was smiling at him as he grabbed a towel to place under his knees as he knelt beside Vegas on the tile. 

“Let’s get you nice and clean, yeah?” Pete cooed, reaching to brush Vegas’s hair away from his face. “Then, we’ll get you nice and relaxed.” 

Vegas nodded, at a loss for words. For the next several minutes, Pete made him feel so small. Using his large but gentle hands, Pete cupped the bathwater to pour it over Vegas’s shoulders, back, and chest. He had Vegas lean back to get his hair wet, so Pete could use those wonderful, strong hands to lather his hair with shampoo. The scalp massage had Vegas moaning a little, his eyes closed. 

Pete laughed sweetly. “That feel nice?”

“I’m still hard, if that means anything,” Vegas replied. And it was true. His erection had barely flagged as Pete bathed him. 

“I haven’t forgotten,” Pete said, letting his hand drag over where Vegas’s cock bobbed in the water. “But let’s finish getting you clean before we get you messy.”

Vegas wanted to argue that it made more sense for Pete to get him messy before he cleaned him, but Vegas didn’t feel like arguing. It felt too nice having Pete take such good care of him. 

After rinsing his hair, Pete conditioned the ends carefully. His chest was still bare, so Vegas entertained himself by touching Pete, simply because he could. 

“You always feel so nice.”

“Do I?”

Nodding gently to not mess up Pete’s work in his hair, Vegas said, “I feel like you really were made just for me.”

Tapping the bottom of Vegas’s chin to get his attention, Pete said, “I was.”

Rinsing his hair again, Vegas was moved all around as Pete scrubbed his body with soap. He especially liked Pete scrubbing his back. He hadn’t had someone do that since he was a kid. 

“You’re good at this,” Vegas mumbled. “Is this still boyfriend mode, or just some caretaker mode?”

“Definitely boyfriend mode,” Pete whispered, his lathered hand finally wrapping around Vegas’s now aching cock. Vegas hissed, thrusting lightly into Pete’s firm grip as Pete said, “Let me show you what else I’m good at.”

Vegas could only whimper as Pete’s hand sped up slightly, gliding up and down his full length before pressing his thumb over his tip. Back and forth, he went, up and down, and Vegas could feel he was close to coming. 

“That’s it,” Pete murmured. “Just relax.” 

“Pete,” he gasped, but then Pete took his hand away. 

Before Vegas could even frown, Pete switched hands, shifting the angle as his other hand reached to caress Vegas’s balls. He could feel them constricting in Pete’s hold, but then Pete’s hand moved even lower, two fingers pressing against Vegas’s perineum as his thumb pressed into Vegas’s frenulum at the same time, and then Vegas was coming so hard he swore he saw a flash of light. 

“Holy shit,” Vegas gasped, sliding down into the water with a loud squeak as his wet skin skid against the porcelain siding. 

Pete’s hands were still moving, though, albeit more slowly, as they milked and massaged him through his orgasm. He only eased up when Vegas’s thighs clenched, trapping Pete’s arm and forcing him to still. 

“Okay,” Vegas managed to say, shaking a little as he tried to let Pete go. 

“So perfect,” Pete whispered, and that had Vegas shivering for a different reason. “Stay right there for a moment. I’ll be right back.”

Pete was gone before Vegas could protest, but the water was still warm. His orgasm had made his limbs heavy, so Vegas only weakly washed the cum from his chest where it had landed and closed his eyes, waiting for Pete to return. 

He could not tell how long Pete was gone for, but it did not feel like long before the tub was drained and Vegas was rinsed off again in the shower. 

“Did you change your shorts?” Vegas asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“They were wet,” Pete said quickly, and Vegas nodded. He had probably splashed Pete quite a bit. 

Pete dried him off tenderly, then asked Vegas what he wanted to wear. 

“Nothing,” Vegas said. “And I want you naked, too. I need…” Vegas swallowed. It was still a little hard, even with Pete, to voice his desire for intimacy. “I would like to feel you.”

Pete nodded, tilting his head to the side. “Where would you like me?”

“On the couch. I want to watch a movie.”

“Alright,” Pete said, following Vegas out of the room. Vegas took a thick blanket from his room, but nothing else. He knew it wasn’t a day for Nop to come collect the trash or anything, so he had no worry of being spotted by anyone. Macau would be asleep, with the time difference, so Vegas could field any other calls. 

In the living room, Vegas lay the blanket down carefully, then tugged Pete’s shorts off of him. As Pete stepped out of them, Vegas finally got to admire Pete in his full glory. His cock was soft, but gorgeous. It sat, curved just slightly, in his thatch of dark hair, and Vegas was tempted to fondle him, to see what kind of reaction he could pull from an android, but he decided they had time for that later. 

Vegas asked Pete to lay on his stomach, waiting just until Pete seemed comfortable before climbing onto his back. Vegas let his body mold to Pete’s, resting his cheek between Pete’s broad shoulder blades. His cock hung soft in the divot between Pete’s thighs, and Pete’s deliciously round ass lifted his midsection, making a nice pillow. 

“Comfortable?” Pete asked, and Vegas propped his head up to see Pete smiling. 

“Very.” Vegas slipped an arm under Pete’s chest to hold him as he exhaled slowly. “Venice, can you put on Coco?”

Venice rolled into the room, chirping as the television started playing. 

“Not Wall-E?” Pete joked. 

“Shut up,” Vegas laughed. 

Pete shifted a little, settling in with Vegas’s weight on top of him. 

“I just didn’t expect you to like animated films.”

“I like how colorful they are,” Vegas said after a moment. “Even if they’re already more dim.”

Pete hummed. 

For several minutes, they just lay together in silence, watching the movie. Then, Vegas glanced up to see Pete’s eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted against the gathered bit of blanket he rested his head on. His breathing had gone even, and Vegas knew he was asleep. Or, in standby mode, or something. 

That was fine. Vegas just stared at him for a long while as the film droned on in the background. He was warm, pressed up against Pete’s heat. So close, Vegas could see the pretty moles on his skin. Pressing his lips against Pete’s shoulder, Vegas held him tight and closed his eyes, drifting off for a peaceful nap. 

Chapter Text

Pete was so snug and toasty when he woke up that he didn’t immediately open his eyes. Instead, he pressed his face further into the thick duvet and sighed. The slight movement rocked the weight on top of him, and Pete suddenly remembered where he had fallen asleep. 

From Vegas’s hot breath fanning over his back in slow, even waves, he could tell that Vegas had fallen asleep, too. 

Vegas had said he was anxious earlier, so Pete was glad to see that he was relaxed enough after his bath to fall asleep naked on the couch. Pete would have been happy to stay there, but his bladder had other ideas. 

So, so slowly, Pete began to shift himself up. 

“Pete?” Vegas mumbled sleepily, wrapping his arms around Pete’s waist. 

“I’ll just be a minute,” Pete replied. 

Vegas finally moved, and they peeled apart in a tangle of limbs. 

“You have dimples here, too,” Vegas murmured, then pressed his lips above Pete’s ass. “Where are you going?”

Pete was still reeling from the kiss when Vegas gave his ass a playful squeeze, still waiting for an answer. 

“I, uh, need to go recalibrate. My internal system.”

When he glanced at Vegas, Vegas was laughing, already settling back onto the sofa to wrap the blanket around himself. 

“Just say you need to use the toilet. It sounds more human.”

“Got it,” Pete replied, then dashed toward his room. 

It felt a little odd to be moving through the large house completely nude, but according to Macau, that was normal for Vegas. As Pete washed his hands, he reminded himself that an android would have no reason to feel something like shame or a need for modesty. He was just parts. Besides, only Vegas and Venice would see him, and Venice hardly counted. 

Still, Pete stood in his room for a moment, debating over whether or not he should put something on. He had left his shorts in the living room, and the pair he had been wearing earlier were buried in his hamper with dried cum on them. 

Pete still couldn’t believe he had come untouched, but Vegas had looked so fucking pretty in the bath. The sounds he had made as Pete touched him seemed to vibrate through Pete’s whole body and straight to his very interested dick. 

Truthfully, he was surprised he had lasted so long before Vegas had stripped him. And even then, he had expected more of an inspection. Vegas was certainly curious, but he also seemed content to take his time with Pete. To Vegas, they had the rest of his life. 

Did Pete want Vegas to touch him?

That was a stupid question. 

He wanted Vegas to use any part of him that he could to get himself off. And if Vegas didn’t care about trying to get him off, he would settle for jerking himself off when he was alone. Whatever it took to survive Vegas’s attention and stay somewhat sane. 

With a sigh, Pete left his room just as nude as he had entered it. His life was in Vegas’s hands, so Pete would just have to see what happened. 

“I’m cold without you,” Vegas said as Pete returned, that soft pout playing over his plush lips. 

“Even with that blanket?”

“You’re better,” Vegas insisted, lifting the edge of the blanket so Pete could crawl in with him. 

Resigned to his fate, Pete slid his side up against Vegas’s front. Instantly, Vegas threw an arm and a leg over him, making sure the blanket was wrapped around Pete, as well. 

Pete had been on dates, and he had his fair share of one night stands. Those things usually didn’t overlap, so Pete had not really had someone cling to him the way Vegas did. Cocooned there on the sofa as they shared body heat, Pete realized he had been missing out. 

“Do you still feel anxious?” Pete asked. 

Vegas blinked, confusion wafting over his features before he quietly said, “Ah. No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not. Not right now. Right now I just want to stay here. This moment. I want to feel you while I watch the light from the T.V. reflect in your eyes.”

Pete took in a sharp breath. He wasn’t used to feeling so wanted in the way Vegas wanted him. Vegas needed him in a way, true, but Vegas just liked having him there. He had expected a bit more bossing around, or more menial tasks, but Vegas honestly just seemed to want to be close. More and more, too, he was talking. He was asking Pete’s opinion about things, and with that closeness came more and more touching. 

Pete always felt invisible to others. He preferred it that way, most of the time. Growing up, to be perceived was to be hit. To be seen was to be screamed at. It was better, it was calmer, when Pete drifted through his childhood home like a ghost. Somewhere in there, he decided that tactic worked for school as well. Teachers didn’t have anything bad to say about him, but they didn’t have much to say about him at all. He kept to himself. He didn’t have many friends. 

If Porsche hadn’t latched on to him at Yok’s, working long shifts together, Pete would have continued to be alone. It was why it was easier to accept that Porsche had gotten too busy to make much time for Pete once he started dating Kinn. To Pete, it was inevitable that someone would get tired of him. 

Vegas at least came with a timer, so Pete knew when to expect the end. 

He figured it wouldn’t hurt to soak up as much affection as Vegas heaped upon him in the meantime. 

Perhaps he could hold onto that like a candle in the dark when it was time for him to be invisible again. 

Vegas’s thin fingers delicately traced over Pete’s chest as they snuggled closer on the sofa. 

“Pete? What does it feel like when I touch you?”

Pete hummed softly as he stared at the ceiling, trying to think of how to answer. 

“It tickles a little,” Pete said as Vegas brushed over a nipple. “But it feels nice. Safe.”

“Safe?”

Pete nodded, meeting Vegas’s sharp gaze. 

“Feels like I’m yours.”

Vegas’s look turned dark as his fingers pressed harder into Pete’s waist. 

“Oh, pet. You know you’re mine. And I told you I would spoil you.”

Then Vegas was dipping his head, his pink tongue lashing out to tease at Pete’s other nipple. 

“Just hold still and let me touch you,” Vegas murmured into his skin. 

And so Pete did. He lay there, trapped in the blanket against Vegas as Vegas teased him, dragging his fingers in wide loops that went lower and lower until they met the tuft of Pete’s pubic hair. 

Pete was already getting hard, swallowing thickly as his cock slid against his thigh. 

“Tell me I make you feel good, pet.”

“So good,” Pete groaned, gritting his teeth as Vegas’s fingers circled around his cock. 

He could feel Vegas getting hard against his hip and couldn’t help but shift closer to give him something to grind against. With his mouth around Pete’s nipple again, Vegas began to stroke Pete to the same rhythm he thrust against him. 

It was driving Pete crazy. Vegas had been driving him crazy all week, ever since Pete had gotten on his knees for him. 

“I want you to come for me, pet,” Vegas purred, his teeth finding Pete’s earlobe and giving it a tug. 

Pete was panting, his hand thrown over Vegas’s waist so he could cup Vegas’s ass, trying to urge him to move faster. Vegas grinned, menace that he was, and doubled his efforts. 

“Vegas-” Pete gasped. Vegas’s hand was dry, the friction after coming just a few hours earlier just shy of too much, but Pete didn’t care. He wanted to be good for Vegas, and Vegas wanted him to come. 

“You’re so amazing,” Vegas whispered. “My perfect pet, being such a good boy for me.”

Pete’s eyes rolled back in his head as he came, the wet feeling doubling as Vegas followed right after, spilling over Pete’s hip. 

The next night, when Pete was picked up for ‘charging’, he knew he would need to say something. 

Pol picked him up, so Pete felt only slightly more comfortable telling him, “Vegas now thinks PET3 can orgasm.”

Thankfully, Pol didn’t slam on the brakes, like Arm likely would have, but he did stare wide eyed for a moment before clearing his throat, aiming for professionalism. 

“So you’re saying we need to make sure the model can…”

“Ejaculate. Yes.”

Pol swallowed, nodding. “I’ll, uh, I’ll pass along the update to my colleague.”

“Great,” Pete replied, then burst out laughing. His whole situation just felt too insane. 

Back at the lab, Macau grinned up at Pete, his eyes magnified comically by the special glasses he wore. 

“Hi, P’Pete! Any progress with Hia?”

Pete sighed, moving to see the circuit board Macau was messing with. 

“It’s hard to get him out of the house with all the rain, but that should be giving us a break soon. But he’s very much…bonding…with me.”

“That’s great! Oh, and your art supplies should be coming in the next week or so. I tried to order them all at once, so it’s taking a little longer.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep an eye out.”

Leaving Macau to his work, Pete decided to see how the progress with PET3 was going. He wondered (only briefly) what would happen if he ‘accidentally’ spilled some water or hot coffee on him, but he would have to have him opened up or something for that to work. 

Arm came out of a back room with Pol, looking exhausted. Clearly he had been working long hours. 

With a slight frown, Arm said, “I got our…update.”

Pete grinned cheekily. “It was a good one.”

Arm rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to PET3 as he pushed Pete out of the way. 

“We’re doing all the modifications we can, but can you not overload us? He’s supposed to be a companion, not a fuck doll.”

“Wow,” Pete mouthed. “I didn’t know you could swear, Arm.”

“Fuck off,” Arm hissed. “What do you want us to do next, model his anatomy off of yours?”

“Bet you’d like a model,” Pete snapped, then furrowed his brow. “Wait a minute, what did you model him on?” 

Before Arm could shoo him away, Pete was peering into PET3’s pants, his jaw dropping a little as he let out a short laugh. 

“Yeah, that’s gonna have to be bigger.”

Whistling, Pete strolled off to his personal space in the lab to call the hospital. Porsche still had his phone, but Pete luckily had the number memorized to Yaai’s room. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Yaai, it’s me.”

“Oh, Doodle! How are you?”

Pete told Yaai that his job was going well. He was being spoiled and being well-fed. She let him know that they were going to be moving her to a bigger room over the weekend, so Pete would have to call the operator to get connected to her new room. She sounded well, so Pete was happy. 

“I’ll come visit you in your new place next Sunday, yeah?”

“Sounds good. I miss you.”

“Love you, Yaai. See you soon.”

Pete ended the call just as Pol shuffled back over. 

“Charging over?” Pete asked, getting to his feet with a huff. 

That was fine. All he had left to do for the day was tuck Vegas back into bed and crash in his own room. Easy. 

The next day was Saturday, so Vegas was even less distracted by work than usual. That meant he was glued to Pete’s side most of the morning. 

“Do you really have to charge for so long next weekend?” Vegas asked. 

“Arm told you I do. You wanted me to stretch out my charging sessions, and I need a day for regular maintenance. You want me working in top condition, right?”

Vegas sighed, but he nodded. “I’ll miss you.”

Pete grinned, cupping Vegas’s face between his hands. “And I’ll be back. Always. I promised.”

Vegas gave him a dirty look and said, “You better, or I’ll leave you outside to rust.”

With fake admonishment, Pete said, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“I wouldn’t,” Vegas admitted immediately. 

They cuddled on the sofa for a while, listening to Venice play an audiobook that even Pete was getting into, when he noticed Vegas squirming more and more. 

“You uncomfortable?” Pete asked. “Can I get you anything?”

“Venice, pause the book,” Vegas said, sitting up with a heavy sigh. 

He shifted closer, running his fingers under the sweater Pete wore. Vegas was dressed in just his robe and boxers, leaving so much delicious skin tauntingly on display for Pete. 

“Can you do something for me, Pete?”

“Of course,” Pete said easily. 

Vegas smiled, jumping up to drag Pete to his bedroom as he called, “Privacy, Venice.”

The bot whistled, then rolled off to go elsewhere. 

In Vegas’s room, he sat Pete on the edge of his bed as he fished a tablet out of his nightstand. 

“I made sure to charge it this time,” Vegas said. “But sometimes when I get really into it, I close my eyes and miss what’s happening.”

Pete nodded slowly, not quite understanding what he meant. Then Vegas sat beside him and pulled up a video. 

“Here, this is one of my favorites.”

Pete’s eyes went a little wide as what was clearly porn began to play. 

“What would you like me to do?” Pete asked. He needed clarification. He didn’t want to cross a line that Vegas didn’t want him to. 

“Describe to me what they’re doing.”

“Easy,” Pete said, grinning as Vegas handed the tablet over, reaching into his nightstand for a bottle of lube before he moved to get comfortable in the middle of the bed. 

Pete’s mouth was suddenly dry. This man was going to be the death of him. 

Moans filled the room from the video as the two men began their foreplay. 

Vegas tossed his robe aside and shimmied out of his boxers, leaning back as he uncapped the lube. 

“Well?”

“Sorry,” Pete mumbled, turning his attention back to the screen. “He’s touching his thighs, running his hands over his skin.”

From the corner of his eye, Pete watched as Vegas used the hand not clutching the bottle of lube to dance over his own thigh. 

“Like this?” Vegas asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“No,” Pete said, crawling closer to kneel between Vegas’s spread legs as he reached out with the hand not holding the tablet to mimic the touch from the video on Vegas’s creamy thigh. 

Vegas exhaled audibly and nodded. “I like that. What else?”

Pete could already tell where this was going, so he set the tablet on the bed beside Vegas and said, “Now he’s kissing his hip, his stomach.”

Vegas whined, and Pete bent low, whispering, “Like this,” as he pressed his lips against Vegas’s hip and stomach. 

The man in the video commanded the other to start touching himself, and Vegas was already uncapping the lube, pouring some into his hand before handing the bottle to Pete. 

“Is this right?” Vegas asked rhetorically as he spread the lube over his cock, which was already flushed and mostly hard. 

“Perfect,” Pete replied, hating to tear his eyes away even for a moment to glance back at the screen. Vegas obviously had the video memorized, but Pete was unfamiliar. 

“Now what?” 

Pete could feel his own cock swelling as the man in the video began to finger the one still stroking himself. 

“He’s, fuck, he’s fingering him.”

“Touch me,” Vegas whimpered, shifting closer on the bed as his hand kept stroking himself lightly. Vegas obviously didn’t want to come too quickly. 

Pete poured some lube into his hand, warming it between his fingers before he lowered to find Vegas’s puckered rim as Vegas spread his legs even wider. The man in the video was moaning like a whore, but Pete could only hear Vegas’s soft gasps as Pete spread lube around his rim. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Pete asked. 

Vegas opened his eyes to stare down at Pete. He looked downright starving. 

“With my own fingers a few times, but it felt weird.”

Pete nodded. With his thumb gently pressing and lightly tugging, he said, “Let me know if you want me to stop.”

Vegas grinned, victory on his face as he leaned his head back. 

Pete shut the video out as he focused completely on Vegas. With his dry hand, Pete gripped the underside of Vegas’s thigh, pressing it up to give himself more room to work as he continuously teased with his slick fingers. Vegas’s own hand had stilled, only giving his cock tiny little squeezes from time to time as he breathed evenly. 

“I’ve got you,” Pete assured him, “Just keep breathing.”

Vegas nodded, exhaling slowly as Pete began working a digit in. Vegas clenched, but Pete could feel him trying to relax. 

As soon as he could, he pressed in up to the second joint. Pete let him adjust to the feeling a little before sliding his finger out and back in, reaching a little deeper. 

“You’re so pretty,” Pete murmured, pressing his lips into Vegas’s thigh. That thigh had been driving him mad, even before he knew Vegas’s name. 

“More,” Vegas demanded, and Pete acquiesced, adding a second finger. He went slow, stretching Vegas open as he wiggled his fingers. 

When he felt Vegas was stretched enough, his fingers being sucked back in every time he went to withdraw them, Pete asked, “Think you can handle another?”

“Fuck,” Vegas gasped, nodding as he licked his lips. 

As Pete pressed a third finger in, picking up the pace as he fucked into Vegas’s hole, he couldn’t help but sink his teeth into the soft expanse of Vegas’s thigh. 

Vegas let out a shout, knocking the tablet off the bed as he reached to grab Pete by his hair. 

“That,” Vegas moaned. “Do it again.”

Pete laved his tongue over the indent his teeth had left, his eyes unable to choose between watching Vegas’s face and watching Vegas swallow his fingers greedily. 

Pete curled his fingers, nailing Vegas’s prostate as he sank his teeth in again, sucking on Vegas’s skin as Vegas began furiously stroking himself again. 

The moans from the floor were nothing compared to hearing Vegas gasp, “Yes, yes, yes,” over and over as Pete focused on that magical bundle of nerves until Vegas shook apart before him, spilling over his fingers and stomach. 

Vegas went limp, and Pete managed to say something about getting a towel to clean him up before darting into the bathroom, where he quickly released his cock from his pants and with three tight strokes, was coming into the sink.

“Pete?” Vegas called, as Pete struggled to catch his breath. 

“Coming,” Pete replied, huffing out a laugh. 

Pete needed to fuck someone, and soon.

Chapter Text

The clouds finally parted the next afternoon, and Vegas found himself once again being dragged out to the garden by an impossible to resist, grinning Pete. 

His head whipped around as he was wary of running into Nop again. 

As if he could read his mind, Pete said, “Venice and I called Nop earlier. He’ll be in the house doing what he needs to do while we’re out here, and I’ll make sure the coast is clear before we go back inside.”

“That was very…proactive of you.”

Pete looped his arm through Vegas’s, keeping him close. 

“You forget I’m a learning model. The more experiences we have, the better I can be what you need and want.” 

“I didn’t forget,” Vegas insisted. “But how far does it go? Do you feel emotions? Would that be something you could learn?”

Pete was quiet for a moment, and Vegas stared at him while he appeared to think. 

“Do you want me to feel emotions?” 

Vegas’s chest felt tight at the very notion. Could Pete one day even love him? Would his love be real, if the source was an artificial being? What was real love, anyway? It was a feeling. It was hard to define concretely, so who was to say that Pete couldn’t love him, in his own way?

“Yes,” Vegas breathed. 

Pete turned toward him, rubbing his nose against Vegas’s gently. 

“Even if that means anger? Sadness?” 

“I’ll make you happy,” Vegas replied confidently. “I won’t give you a reason to feel anything bad.” 

To his surprise, Pete frowned. 

“Being human isn’t just feeling nice things, Vegas. Besides, don’t you truly learn to appreciate the nice things when you have lived through the darkness?” 

It was Vegas’s turn to frown as they continued their stroll through the garden. The air still smelled of rain, blending nicely with the floral scent, but Vegas was too in his own head to fully appreciate it. He was turning over what Pete had said. Strangely, it gave him a new appreciation–maybe more so an acceptance–of his medical condition and the outcome. If he didn’t need and accept help, he wouldn’t have Pete. And knowing that his sight would only get worse and fade more made him focus so much more on the moments he had with Pete. He drank him in as often as he could, wanting to store the memories for later. It made him focus more on his other senses, too, though. He spent dedicated time inhaling Pete’s scent and touching him. Would he be so focused on the minute details in other circumstances? 

Days later, Vegas was still thinking about it when Pete asked, “Are you gay or bi?” 

Vegas blinked, the words taking a moment to sink in. 

“Gay. Definitely.”

Pete hummed, comparing two novels for a moment. They were reorganizing the library, which Vegas didn’t use as much anymore for obvious reasons, preferring to listen to audiobooks than be reminded he had to strain his eyes to read. At least on a screen he could enlarge the text. 

“Do you…have a…a preference?” Vegas asked, genuinely curious, then held his breath while he waited for Pete to answer. 

“You,” Pete replied cheekily, “Definitely.” 

Vegas rolled his eyes but was unable to stop the flush in his cheeks. 

It was so easy to be with Pete, to talk to him, that Vegas found himself divulging more. 

“My father hated that I was gay. My cousins are, too. Well, maybe not Khun. He’s…I’m not entirely sure what his deal is, but anyway, even with the others out and proud, my father was only disgusted by me. I don’t even think he cared about me producing the next family heir, even if they didn’t. It was as if it was just another thing about me for him to detest. And he did detest me. He told me, all the time. It was why I took so long to admit that I was losing my vision. I noticed symptoms early on, but I thought I could manage it. But when my mother… When I had to admit to him that I couldn’t see as well as I could before, he flew into a rage. He screamed and threw things. He said, ‘I thought you were defective mentally when I found out you were a faggot, and now it turns out you’re defective physically, too.’ He always made me feel like nothing I ever did was good enough. That I would never be good enough. And nothing I could do would ever shrink that gap. Not my grades, not anything.”

Pete was quiet, and when Vegas swiped a hand over his face to wipe away his angry tears, born from years of stifling the devastation he felt, he saw Pete place the books he had been holding on the shelf so he could cross the room. Vegas inhaled the sob he had barely been holding back when Pete wrapped his arms around him. 

All it took to have Vegas breaking down was Pete calling his name sweetly. He clung to Pete, his face burrowing into the safe space at the side of Pete’s neck, as his knees gave out. 

Pete didn’t let him fall, of course, he just gently eased them both to the floor. Not once did he relax his hold on Vegas as Vegas worked to get himself under control. 

He could not remember the last time he had just let himself cry, without inhibition. He usually found it easier to turn to violence to let out his inner turmoil. It was easier to break things than to appear as weak as his father told him he was. 

Swallowing thickly, Vegas pulled back as he said, “I’m sorry.”

Pete’s face was inches from his, a sad smile on his face as he reached up to wipe the tears and snot from Vegas’s face with the sleeve of his sweater. 

“Never be sorry about expressing the pain you feel. You cannot carry that blame. That lies on the ones who caused the hurt. No one–especially not your own father–should have ever said those things to you, Vegas. You were just a child, just doing your best. And you didn’t choose to be gay. You just are. You didn’t choose to lose your sight, you just are. It’s not your fault.”

A pathetic, wretched keen spilled from Vegas’s lips as he sobbed anew.

“Oh, baby,” Pete whispered, so low that Vegas barely heard it.

He had heard it, though. He was sure. 

“Say it again,” Vegas said, as soon as he could properly breathe again. 

Pete’s brow was furrowed as he wiped more tears from Vegas’s face. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“No,” Vegas said. “I mean, yes. But not just that. Call me that again.”

Pete cupped Vegas’s cheeks, holding him close as his features relaxed. When he smiled again, Vegas could see his dimple. 

“It’s not your fault, baby.”

Vegas’s eyes closed, his breath leaving him as the harpoon of self-hatred his father had buried in his chest began to splinter and shatter. 

Blindly, he reached to stroke Pete’s cheek. 

“I like that,” Vegas whispered. 

“Baby?”

“Yeah.”

Pete was his pet, but Vegas positively melted at the notion that Pete also saw him as something precious, someone to care for. Vegas belonged to Pete as much as Pete belonged to him. Pete had completely claimed him with a single word. 

When he opened his eyes again, Vegas was pulled into the compassion practically bleeding from Pete’s dark eyes. 

“Come here,” Pete called, helping Vegas to his feet before lifting him to wrap Vegas’s legs around his waist. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and we can take our time sorting out dinner, yeah?”

Vegas just nodded, closing his eyes again as he rested his head on Pete’s shoulder. He let the soft rocking motion of Pete carrying him to his room relax him further as he let his mind go blissfully blank. 

Vegas had had enough pain in his life. He had had enough heartbreak. He was ready for Pete to show him a different way to live, a gentler way to be, as they filled their days with little joys and comforts that felt monumental to Vegas’s battered heart. 

Vegas had asked Pete to stay with him that night, and Pete easily agreed, his fingers combing through Vegas’s thick hair.

It felt strange giving him the option, and Vegas would have shattered if Pete had declined, but his embrace felt so much sweeter knowing that Pete had agreed to be there. Pete asked Venice to play some rain sounds, which made the bot happily chirp as he complied, rolling into his charging station for the night. 

“Venice really likes you,” Vegas huffed with a laugh, his face already pressed into Pete’s back as he wrapped around him. As always, his heat and familiar scent soothed Vegas instantly, making his eyelids heavy as he yawned. 

“I like him, too,” Pete replied, his thumb stroking gently back and forth over Vegas’s palm as they loosely held hands. 

They were quiet for several minutes as Vegas matched his breathing to Pete’s and listened to the relaxing rain noises. With one last, contented sigh, Vegas fell asleep. 

The next evening, Pete left for charging, and Vegas trudged into his office with Venice close on his heels. 

He and Pete had had a lazy day, with Vegas still reeling emotionally from the day before, though he felt much lighter overall. He had been clinging to Pete all day, and Pete had indulged him, of course, so it was hard for Vegas to let him go, even though he knew he needed to charge. 

He wanted to get Pete something, something that would remind him always that he was Vegas’s. 

His pet. 

Opening his laptop, Vegas began to search online for the perfect item. He had narrowed it down to three options when the phone rang once before Venice automatically answered. 

Vegas glanced over, but it wasn’t a video call. That was fine. He could keep scrolling while he talked. 

“Hey, Cau.”

“What are you up to, Hia?”

“Shopping while I wait for Pete to come home.”

“What are you getting?”

“A present for Pete.”

Macau let out a fond snicker as he said, “I knew you were so whipped.”

Vegas glared at Venice’s screen, even though Macau couldn’t see him. 

“I don’t see why that’s a shock,” Vegas blurted. “You made him specifically for me, didn’t you?”

“We did. So tell me, what has P’Pete done this time that has you buying him things like a simp?”

Without getting into too much embarrassing detail, Vegas tried to explain that Pete was just perfect for him. He was gorgeous, and smart, and kind, and funny, and…

“Wow,” Macau said. “He sounds even better than what we even made.”

“He’s learning,” Vegas revealed. “He’s… I don’t know how to explain it. When I tell him things about myself, Cau, it’s not like he’s just listening and responding. It’s like he really hears me. Somehow, Pete understands my pain. His empathy is off the charts, and the closer we bond, the stronger I feel it. I feel like… Cau, I think he might actually have feelings for me. Maybe not yet. But one day.”

Macau was quiet, and Vegas suddenly got nervous. Had he said too much? Was he just crazy, and Macau was about to just tell him that it was all in his head?

“That’s,” Macau began slowly. “Wow, that’s incredible, Hia.” 

And oh, Macau was crying. 

“You don’t think I’m insane?”

Macau sniffled, then laughed. 

“You being insane and you wanting Pete to have feelings for you aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“Brat.”

“But seriously,” Macau said quickly, clearing his throat. “It sounds like you are getting exactly what I always wanted you to have: someone to connect with. Someone to share your feelings with, where you can have them reciprocated. I just… I only want you to be happy, Hia.”

“Thank you,” Vegas whispered, tears filling his own eyes. “Thank you for pushing me to do this. Really. I know I didn’t want to listen, but now that I have Pete, I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

“Not even your sight?”

Vegas inhaled sharply, thrown by the question. Even more, though, he was stunned by how easily the answer came to him. 

“No. Not even that.”

Pete was infinitely more precious to Vegas than he could even put into words. 

“Cau? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How do you feel about Pa not finding out that you were gay before he died?”

Macau sighed.

“Pa didn’t know much of anything about me, Hia. You know that. He didn’t care to know. And if he had found out, he would have been just as much of an asshole about it as he was to you. I was glad that I had you, instead, to come out to. I knew you obviously wouldn’t be mad about it, and you would accept me as I was, either way.”

“I love you, Macau.”

“I know. I love you, too, even if you are insane.”

Vegas couldn’t help but join Macau as he laughed. 

Pete had been right. It wasn’t Vegas’s fault he was who he was. He would have accepted Macau, no matter if he came out as straight, gay, trans, or whatever. And he still could, and Vegas would be happy. Because Macau was sharing his life with him. Macau cared about him, and he cared about Macau. He just wanted his little brother to be happy. 

Their father should have just wanted them to be happy. 

At least he couldn’t give them fresh wounds anymore. 

And now Vegas had Pete. 

Pete accepted him as he was. 

After chatting with Macau for a bit longer, Vegas put his order in for Pete’s gift. Then, he and Venice said goodbye to Macau so they could wait in the vestibule for Pete to return. 

“Hi,” Pete said as he entered, the camera outside the entrance automatically unlocking the door for him as it recognized his face. 

Vegas smiled, stepping close so he could get a good look at Pete. 

“Hi.”

Pete grinned, flashing that dimple. 

“Pete, are you really fine with your life here? You don’t see me as a burden? All I do is leech off this family, and now I’m just taking all I can get from you.”

When Pete frowned, it only accentuated the crater of his dimple. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing. I was just talking to Macau. We talked about our Pa a little. About how he was. And, I don’t know. I’m so happy with you, but a part of me still feels like all I do is take from those around me. Macau worked so hard to give you to me, and I don’t know how I can ever repay him.”

With a soft sigh, Pete ran his hand down Vegas’s arm, taking his hand as he reached it. 

“Come with me for a second. Venice, we’ll be right back.”

“Aye, aye, P’Pete!” 

Vegas let Pete lead him out of the house and across the drive to a clearing on the lawn. 

“Do you see that?” Pete asked, pointing up at the night sky. 

Vegas pursed his lips, but he followed Pete’s finger to see the faint glow of the full moon. 

“The sun is providing the light that makes the moon glow so beautifully. The sun works hard, all the time, but the moon is still so alluring that people write poems about it, even when it’s not doing anything itself except existing. Do you think the sun resents the moon?"

“No,” Vegas said. “The moon is just doing what it does. What it can. It can’t make its own light.”

Pete sighed. “Macau doesn’t resent you, either. None of them do. They know you are doing the best you can, with what you have. But they still love to see you glow, Vegas. I love to see you glow.”

Under the light of the moon, Vegas thought Pete’s face was glowing beautifully enough to inspire fine poetry, too.

Giving Pete’s hand a squeeze, Vegas said, “Thank you, Pete. You always make me look at things in a new way.”

Vegas wanted to think for a while, so after they went back inside, he let Pete disappear into his own room while Venice rolled after him quietly. 

He hoped that Pete was right, that Macau didn’t resent him for their lives turning out the way they had. 

Macau didn’t seem like he did. He wasn’t sure about Kinn or the others, but maybe with Pete’s help he could untangle those knots in his chest, one by one. 

Chapter Text

Nop arrived early one morning, delivering several packages all at once. Pete heard the door open as the man announced his presence, his voice muffled by the hazmat suit he wore. His arms were full, so Pete rushed to help him. Together, they loaded everything onto the dining table. 

Grinning at Pete through the visor, Nop said, “Is Khun Vegas awake yet?”

It was the morning after Pete’s first long break, and Vegas had stayed awake with him long into the night, just tracing his fingers over Pete’s face and body. He had missed him, too, but it had been nice to see Yaai. Even though Pete hadn’t been in the city in only a few weeks, it felt like stepping into another skin after being Vegas’s android for so long. It had certainly been an abrupt adjustment that Pete was still processing. 

Shaking his head at Nop, Pete said, “He’s sleeping in.”

“Best boss I ever had,” Nop said, lowering his voice a little. “I like being able to keep my own schedule, and Khun Vegas doesn’t mind as long as I follow safety protocol and just get my work done.”

“He’s sweet,” Pete agreed. 

Clearing his throat, Nop looked around for a moment. 

“I hope this isn’t offensive,” he began, and Pete stiffened a little. “But the only robot I’ve met is Venice, and you’re very different from him.”

Pete’s lips parted slightly as he took in a breath. “What’s your question?”

“Do you ever… I don’t know, think about how you’re obviously superior to us? I mean, technology is cool and can be helpful, but couldn’t you guys easily overthrow us?”

Pete couldn’t help but let out a laugh, moving quickly to cover his mouth. He didn’t want to wake Vegas, even though the house was huge and he probably couldn’t hear them. 

“What if I promise to be a benevolent overlord?” Pete teased, laughing again when Nop’s eyes went wide. Before the man could panic too much, Pete quickly said, “I’m kidding. My only directive is to care for Vegas. I’ll leave world domination to the other A.I.”

Nop let out a chuckle, his breath fogging the inside of the visor for a moment. 

“Well, from the little I’ve seen, you’re doing a great job. Khun Vegas is much more relaxed, I can tell. He’s…kinder. Not that he was bad before,” Nop blurted, waving a hand between them. “He’s… Well, he’s him. But he’s letting himself be more himself, I think. If that makes sense.”

Pete grinned, turning to fondly stare in Vegas’s vague direction. 

“It does.”

A bright chirp alerted them to Venice’s presence, widening Pete’s smile as the bot rolled into the kitchen to join them. 

“Morning!” Venice called, his screen brightening with pixels that formed a smiling, cartoonish face. 

“Morning,” Pete replied. He couldn’t help but reach out to stroke Venice fondly. 

Nop bent over to get closer to Venice to also greet him, and Pete noticed he was still holding a small box. 

“Oh, let me take that,” Pete offered, but Nop pulled the box closer to himself. 

“Sorry, Khun Pete. I’m under strict orders to deliver this directly to Khun Vegas.”

Pete furrowed his brows but didn’t question it. 

“Let me go wake him up.”

“You don’t have to-” Nop sputtered nervously, but Pete only laughed. 

“It’s alright. I’m not scared of him. I was planning on getting him up, anyway.”

While the sounds of Nop conversing pleasantly with Venice faded away, Pete very quickly and quietly made his way to Vegas’s room. Pete had slept with Vegas a few times, and napped with him even more often, but he always loved to watch Vegas sleep. 

He looked so soft, in repose, so innocent. Pete could just openly stare at his beauty without worrying about whatever his own face was doing. 

Although the automatic door function wasn’t loud, Pete opted to slide his door open manually to lower the risk of waking him. 

Just as he had hoped, Vegas was still asleep. He had moved around in his sleep, much more than he did when Pete slept with him, and one leg was sticking out of the sheets, exposing part of his tempting thigh. The rest of the sheets were gathered near his bellybutton, and Pete just knew he had slept in the nude. 

Crawling carefully onto the mattress, Pete softly called, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Vegas made no motion, no response, so Pete decided to tap him on the nose. That didn’t garner a reaction, either, so Pete began to lightly trace his full mouth with the tip of one finger. Vegas’s face scrunched up a little at that, so Pete touched his brow, smoothing it out and tracing a small scar as he said, “Time to wake up, Vegas.”

Vegas swallowed, letting out a weak groan. 

Deciding he needed to up the ante, Pete straddled Vegas’s hips, taking Vegas’s hands and placing them on the tops of his thighs. 

“If you wake up right now, I’ll give you a reward.”

Vegas’s eyes immediately flew open. He blinked a few times, his fingers digging into Pete’s thighs. 

“What will you give me, pet?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

That had the desired effect. Within seconds, Vegas was sitting up, his bedhead cutely fluffed around his face. With a smile, Pete began to comb it to make it a little more tame. It didn’t bother him, he just found he liked any excuse to touch Vegas. 

When Vegas’s hair looked a little more presentable, Pete ran his hands over Vegas’s shoulders and chest. 

“I dreamed about you.”

“You did?” Pete raised an eyebrow. He had had his fair share of dreams, both erotic and not, about Vegas, but this was the first time he was hearing that Vegas was also dreaming about him. 

“Yeah.” Vegas took one of Pete’s hands, lifting it to his mouth to kiss his palm. Then, Vegas’s hot tongue licked slowly over Pete’s palm, over and over, spreading his saliva. “I dreamed you were holding me so close. So safe and warm. And you were touching me.” 

Pete nodded, his eyelids drooping as Vegas pulled his slick hand under the sheets to where he was already stiffening. Reflexively, Pete wrapped his hand around Vegas’s cock, but he let Vegas set the pace. He clutched Pete’s wrist tightly, urging him to stroke him. The spit wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t last long, but soon enough a little precum was added to the mix as Vegas began to pant. 

Pete only tightened his grip, still letting Vegas control the speed of the strokes as he whined, his eyes struggling to stay open. 

“That’s it,” Pete murmured, leaning forward to lick a stripe up Vegas’s neck before he sat back again so he could watch his face. “Just use me, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

Letting out a weak grunt, Vegas nodded, moving his hand even faster as he flexed, struggling to fuck into Pete’s fist with Pete straddling him. 

Pete’s own pants were getting tight, and he couldn’t help but rock a little, to grind himself up against Vegas’s hardness. 

“Fuck,” Vegas hissed, releasing Pete’s wrist so he could tug Pete out of his sleep pants. Carefully, he peeled Pete’s fingers off of his cock so he could wrap Pete’s hand around them both. Pete’s hands were big, but together, they were too thick for him to reach all the way around. 

Choosing to wrap more of his hand around Vegas, Pete shifted close so he could grind his cock against Vegas’s as Vegas clutched Pete’s forearm, once more setting the pace. The sounds they were making were obscene, and Vegas’s soft moans and Pete’s responding gasps only added to it. 

Biting his bottom lip, Vegas whimpered, his other arm leaving the mattress so he could wrap it around Pete’s waist to hold himself up and bring them closer. 

“Fuck, Pete. Right there. Fuck, you feel so good. Want you to come. Come with me.”

Pete nodded, unable to form words. Instead, he wrapped his free hand around the back of Vegas’s neck so he could pull him close and press their foreheads together. 

Vegas’s eyes squeezed shut tightly as he came with a groan, his cum spilling and easing the glide as Pete worked him through it. Even though his grip on Pete’s arm tightened, Pete kept going, rutting against Vegas’s flushed, spent cock until he finally came, too, adding to the mess. 

Vegas whimpered again, and Pete wanted him to keep making that sound. He wanted to fuck into Vegas mercilessly, abusing his prostate as Vegas made that sound again and again. 

“So perfect for me, baby,” Pete finally said, working to steady his breathing. 

Vegas glanced down at the mess between them. Then, he released his bruising grip on Pete to slide two fingers through their combined slurry, gathering it on his fingers so he could reach up. 

Without needing to be told, Pete opened his mouth, his tongue lolling out to accept the gift. 

“How do we taste, pet?” 

Pete sucked Vegas’s fingers clean, and then kept sucking, rolling his tongue around the digits in his mouth. He found he really wouldn’t have minded if Vegas reached deeper into his throat, spreading the bitterness further. Perhaps he could choke on Vegas’s cock again, very soon. 

“Sweet,” Pete said, once Vegas reclaimed his fingers. 

Vegas cocked his head to the side, and Pete used his own fingers to give Vegas a taste, too. 

Pete’s cock twitched as Vegas gave a pleased hum as he licked his lips. 

“At least you don’t taste like motor oil,” Vegas teased, grinning shyly, and Pete was overcome with the urge to kiss him silly. 

Pete rolled his eyes instead, shifting off of Vegas to let him up. As he cleaned himself up in the bathroom and fetched a warm rag for Vegas, Pete said, “Oh, Nop’s here. He brought some packages but said there was one he needed to give to you directly.”

Vegas jumped out of the bed, his legs almost tangling in the sheets. 

“Did you see it?”

Pete narrowed his eyes as he just started cleaning the cum off of Vegas himself. 

“No. He said it was for you.”

“Good,” Vegas sighed. “It’s a surprise.”

Pete grinned, dropping to his knees without thinking so he could make sure he got all the mess cleaned up. When he glanced back up, his core began to boil with the heated way Vegas was watching him. 

“Thank you, pet.”

“Of course,” Pete replied, dropping the cloth in the hamper. As Vegas stepped into the bathroom to relieve himself, Pete turned away to give him privacy as he said. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Just make sure you put some clothes on.”

“Jealous?”

Hovering in the door for a moment, Pete decided not to voice that Vegas was his. 

Pete’s wish was granted the following day as he relaxed in the pool. 

He was swimming casually from one end to the other, when he popped his head out of the water to see Vegas staring down at him. His silk robe was open, his briefs the only thing covering him. 

The serious look on his face kept Pete from speaking. He just waited, his fingers curled around the edge of the pool. 

Vegas swallowed, his fists clenched at his side. Something had upset him. 

He was trembling, just slightly. 

When Pete cocked his head to the side, inviting Vegas to confide in him, Vegas opened his mouth. 

He closed it again, exhaling sharply through his nose, but Pete just waited patiently. He knew that Vegas just needed some time. Clearly, he wanted to tell Pete whatever it was. 

“I just got done with the board meeting.”

“Oh?” Pete blinked. Vegas had been somewhat stressed before going into the meeting, but he had told Pete he could handle it alone. 

Vegas nodded curtly. “It upset me. He, my uncle, upset me.”

“I’m sorry,” Pete whispered, his hands gripping the edge of the pool even tighter as he tried to diffuse his anger at this mystery man. 

Vegas’s voice echoed louder in the room as he blurted, “But I didn’t break anything.” Quieter, he added, “I didn’t. I knew that you would prefer I not break things.”

Pete grinned wickedly, pride zipping through his veins. 

“I would prefer you not to risk hurting yourself. But I’m so proud of you, baby.”

Vegas’s shoulders slumped, relief visibly coursing through him as his cheeks turned a rosy pink. 

Pushing himself just slightly away from the wall, Pete said, “Get in with me.”

“I don’t have my swimsuit.”

Pete grinned, tilting his head to the side. “You don’t need one.”

With a small smile, Vegas slipped out of his robe and slid off his briefs. Standing proudly naked, he moved closer, his eyes darting to the water for a moment. 

“Just sit,” Pete said. “There’s no rush.”

Nodding, Vegas carefully eased himself down, dropping his feet into the water. Pete knew it was warm, so Vegas’s legs quickly followed. The pool wasn’t very deep, so it was easy for Pete to stand as he maneuvered between Vegas’s thighs. 

He ran his fingers around Vegas’s knees, dripping more water onto his skin. Pete moved closer, keeping eye contact as he pressed his mouth to the inside of Vegas’s knee before giving him a long lick. 

“Pet,” Vegas called, his fingers tangling in Pete’s wet hair. “I didn’t break anything.”

“And I said I was very proud of you.”

Pete moved further up Vegas’s leg to nip his teeth into the softness there as Vegas said, “Are you proud enough to give me a reward?”

Pete reached for his waist, encouraging Vegas to shift closer to the edge. It put his cock at the perfect height for Pete’s mouth. 

He started with small licks, his eyes continually flicking back to meet Vegas’s gaze. Vegas didn’t release his hold on Pete’s head, instead, he began to tug Pete even closer, putting Pete’s mouth where he wanted it, and Pete couldn’t hold back his moan. 

“I was good,” Vegas mumbled. 

Pete paused his licking to say, “You’re always good. So good for me.”

That made Vegas put both hands in Pete’s hair as he yanked him closer. 

Pete wrapped his lips around the side of Vegas’s cock, sucking lightly before dipping to pay some attention to his balls. Vegas pulled him up eventually, and Pete gripped his base to guide Vegas’s tip into his mouth. He showered that pretty cock in open-mouthed kisses, licking and letting his saliva gather and spread. 

“Pete,” Vegas groaned, his hips rocking a little as he tugged Pete onto his cock, forcing himself in until he hit the back of Pete’s throat. Pete hummed, and Vegas pulled out, giving no warning before he was guiding Pete back onto him. Pete just let himself go slack, letting Vegas guide his head as he fucked himself with Pete’s face. It felt divine, to be used so thoroughly. Vegas wasn’t just asking for a reward, he was claiming it. He had behaved, and he wanted Pete to worship him for it. 

As Vegas pushed in as far as he could, Pete swallowed, relaxing his throat as he took Vegas even deeper. He could only hold onto Vegas’s waist as Vegas changed the angle, quickening the pace until he was grinding more than anything. Pete could hardly breathe, but he didn’t want Vegas to stop. 

“Pete,” Vegas panted, “Pete.”

Pete blinked up at him, tears trapped in the corners of his eyes as spit dripped down his chin. He hummed again the next time Vegas plunged deep, and then Vegas was coming with a sharp cry. 

Pete swallowed what he could, then coughed a little as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Are you okay?” Vegas asked, his tone instantly switching to concern. 

Pete nodded, taking another moment before he could say, “I’m so okay. Come here.”

Carefully, he helped Vegas ease the rest of the way into the water. 

Pete was achingly hard, and between both their hands fumbling under the water, they managed to get him out of his swim trunks. Vegas latched onto Pete, wrapping both his arms and legs around him, and Pete dipped a little lower into the water as he crowded Vegas’s back up against the wall for leverage. It was strange to move in the water, but soon enough Pete was grinding his hard cock between Vegas’s ass cheeks. 

Vegas was nodding, burying his face behind Pete’s ear to get closer, his breath hot against Pete’s wet skin. 

“Vegas,” Pete groaned, cupping Vegas’s ass in both hands to squeeze them around his cock even tighter. He felt so good that Pete couldn’t possibly stop. He kept rutting against him, then realized that Vegas was moving as well, was helping, and Pete desperately wanted to be inside of him. He wanted to feel Vegas clench around him, over and over, as he milked Pete dry. 

As Pete slid back, he felt the tip of his cock drag over Vegas’s rim, and they both gasped. 

“Yes,” Vegas whispered, sliding the cleft of his ass over Pete’s cock again. 

With another tight squeeze of Vegas’s ass, Pete came, his forehead dropping onto Vegas’s shoulder as he panted, struggling to catch his breath. His throat was raw from the face-fucking, so every breath burned with the chlorine in the air, but Pete didn’t care. 

He wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Thank you,” Pete gasped, pressing his lips to Vegas’s chest before easing them carefully away from the wall. Vegas still clung to him tightly, and for a while they just bobbed in the water, happy and content in each other’s arms. 

Chapter Text

Vegas blinked, stumbling out of his room after slipping on shorts and a shirt. He yawned, noticing that the house was oddly quiet as he made his way to the kitchen to make his coffee. 

“Pete? Venice?”

There was no answer, no chirp of acknowledgment, so Vegas set his empty mug on the counter to go find them first. The house was empty, so with his hands on his hips, Vegas stared at the door. Had they gone out? Were they in the garden? Slipping his shoes on, he took a deep breath and stepped outside. The morning air was cool, and just as he turned toward the garden, he heard the loud rumble of an engine. 

Turning around, Vegas cautiously approached the garage. 

“Pete?”

The engine cut off again as Venice beeped loudly, his treads wheeling him around on the concrete. 

“Hi, Vegas!” Pete called, giving him a smile and a wave. “I didn’t know you had a bike.”

Vegas shrugged. The red Ducati had been a birthday present to himself when he was younger. He only got to ride it a few times before it seemed like a bad idea. 

He missed riding, though. He missed the feel of the wind in his hair, the feeling of freedom. 

Pete's smile dropped as he quickly got off the bike. 

“Sorry,” Pete said quickly. “I should have asked.”

“No,” Vegas said, moving closer. “It’s fine. You can touch my stuff, pet.”

“Boss and P’Pete should go for a ride!” Venice suggested cheerfully. 

“I can’t,” Vegas told them. “I… Obviously, I can’t.”

Pete’s smile was soft as it returned. Moving closer so Vegas could see his face better, Pete wrapped his hands around Vegas’s waist. 

“You can…with me.”

“You can ride a bike?”

“Of course,” Pete scoffed. “I told you, I’m state of the art.”

When Vegas stood rooted to the spot, Pete leaned even closer to brush their noses together. 

“You don’t have to, but if you want to you can. Do you trust me to keep you safe?”

Vegas sighed, nodded. He did trust Pete. 

Pete grinned, taking Vegas’s hands to lead him over to the bike. 

“When was the last time it ran? The engine sounds good.”

“Nop keeps the vehicles maintained.”

Pete nodded, then patted the seat. 

Vegas gave him a weary look, but he really did want to go for a ride. He climbed on, and Pete climbed on right behind him, pressing in close so Pete could reach the handles, too. Starting the bike once more, Pete released the kickstand. Vegas put his hands on top of Pete’s and held his breath as the bike accelerated. 

His heart leapt in his throat, but he could hear Pete’s laughter behind him. 

They did circles around the fountain a few times until Vegas was laughing, too. It felt so nice to feel the breeze in his hair. 

When they pulled up beside Venice again, Vegas said, “Will you take me down the road? I want to go faster.”

Pete tapped his side. “Just switch with me.”

Vegas grinned, letting Pete help him off so he could slide forward and Vegas could climb on his back. With his arms wrapped tightly around Pete’s waist, they rode down the drive. The gate opened automatically, and then Pete was able to go even faster. He didn’t floor it, since Vegas didn’t have a helmet on, but that was fine. It had been years since Vegas had felt like that. 

With his arm shaking a little, Vegas reached a hand out to the side, letting the wind catch and disperse against his palm. 

Pete drove only a few minutes before turning around and taking them back to the house. 

“That was fun,” Vegas said as Pete backed the bike into the garage again. 

“Next time we can go farther, with helmets, of course.”

Vegas nodded, but his stomach clenched a little. What if they ran into other people? He knew they would likely be in cars, but what if they had to stop somewhere and someone approached them? 

“Maybe,” Vegas muttered. “We’ll see.”

Pete just grinned, taking Vegas’s hand again as they followed Venice through the garage and into the house.

That Saturday night, Pete had already gone to bed by the time Vegas left his office, so he gave himself a bath and tucked himself in. He still hadn’t given Pete the gift he had gotten him, but he was a little nervous. Would Pete dislike it? Would it be weird?

Rolling onto his side, Vegas asked, “Venice, do you like being with me?”

Venice trilled, his screen lighting up as he came out of standby mode. 

“Boss takes good care of Venice.”

He tried. He had been talking with Macau earlier in the week, and he suggested that if Vegas was worried, he could send Venice with Pete the next time Pete went for his Sunday maintenance. Arm would be able to look him over to make sure everything was still as it should be, and he could easily make whatever repairs or updates might be needed. 

“You take good care of me, too.” Vegas admitted. 

Venice’s screen went dark again, and Vegas closed his eyes. 

Hours later, he woke up with a gasp to complete darkness. 

“No,” Vegas moaned, blinking and rubbing his eyes. He reached for the lamp beside his bed, hearing it click but not seeing any light. 

“No,” Vegas cried, a sob building in his chest. Was he having another nightmare? He waved his hand in front of his face, but he couldn’t see anything. 

Reaching out, Vegas got out of bed, heading in the general direction of his door. 

“Pete!” Vegas cried. “Pete, I can’t see!”

He heard Pete’s footsteps coming down the hall, nearly collapsing as Pete’s hand found his in the darkness. 

“Pete, I can’t see,” Vegas choked. 

“Baby, the power’s out. You’re okay. I’m here.”

“Venice?” Vegas called over his shoulder, his legs going weak as he could see Venice’s screen illuminate the dark room. 

“I’ve got you,” Pete murmured, wrapping a strong arm around Vegas’s waist. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

Vegas nodded, but then remembered that Pete probably couldn’t see that well, either, and said, “Okay.”

“Boss?” Venice said. 

Letting Pete guide him back to his bed, Vegas clung onto him. 

He felt much calmer now that Pete was there and he knew it was just a power outage. Vegas had had so many nightmares about his vision going completely dark, and they always left him shaken. It was different to have Pete there, though. Pete’s voice was calm and gentle, patient, as he climbed into the bed with Vegas and wrapped around him. 

“We’re okay, Venice,” Vegas finally said. “You can go back into standby mode.”

Venice chirped, and the room was shrouded in complete darkness once more. 

“You should have lights like in my room,” Pete said. “They have a battery as backup, so I could see a little.”

“There’s a backup generator that should kick on if the power’s been out for thirty minutes. It’s to keep the fridge and Venice running. And Nop is nearby if the backup generator fails. He can start it manually.”

Pete nodded, his face pressed against Vegas’s head. 

“Sorry I freaked out,” Vegas muttered, his voice feeling too loud in the dark room. 

“I understand. You must have been so scared.”

“I’m less scared now. You’re here.”

“I’m here.” 

Vegas’s brain was still racing a little, and he wanted Pete even closer. He wanted them to be connected. 

“Pete?” Vegas called, listening as Pete hummed in response. “Can you- I want you to fuck me.”

“Right now?” Pete asked, but he didn’t sound opposed. 

“I want to feel you close,” Vegas admitted aloud. “I’ve- I’ve been wanting it for a while. I want to feel you in me.”

Pete’s large hand found Vegas’s hip and tugged him closer, his breath hot as it fanned over Vegas’s face. 

“Is this because you’re scared?”

“No,” Vegas insisted. “It just feels like a good time to ask.”

Pete chuckled a little, his lips pressing so quickly to Vegas’s forehead. 

“Okay,” Pete said, and Vegas let out the breath he had been holding. “Let me find the lube. It might get a little messy, since it’s hard to see.”

“They didn’t give you night vision?”

Vegas frowned, realizing he would have to have a talk with his brother. What was the point of having artificial eyes if they didn’t come with night vision?

Pete laughed louder at that, the sound wrapping around Vegas as Pete stretched away from him to reach into the nightstand. 

“Sadly, no,” Pete said. “But I think we can both manage in the dark.”

The words felt heavy on Vegas’s chest, but not suffocating. He would be okay. Pete was with him. They were figuring it out together. They could figure anything out together. 

As Pete shifted on the bed, Vegas began tugging his sleep clothes off. Once he was naked, he quickly reached for Pete’s clothes, as well. Pete moved carefully as he helped Vegas undress him, not wanting to fall onto Vegas as he wriggled around. 

Finally, they were both naked, the lube still securely in Pete’s hand. 

“Ready?” Pete asked, sounding almost breathless. “You can ask me to stop at any time, okay?”

“I want you,” Vegas said. His hands were still shaking a little, so he found Pete’s hair to tangle his fingers in as Pete slid down his torso. Pete’s lips dragged over Vegas’s skin and Vegas closed his eyes. The darkness no longer mattered as he focused on the way Pete was touching him, on the sounds they were making. 

When Pete kissed the crease between his thigh and stomach, Vegas spread his legs wider, shifting closer to Pete. 

“You taste so sweet,” Pete murmured into his thigh. Before Vegas could find a reply, Pete was nipping at the inside of his thigh. The android definitely seemed to have a thing for his thighs, Vegas noticed, and wondered if it was because of the reaction it always got from Vegas. 

“Pete-” 

But then Pete’s mouth was wrapped around the head of his cock, his tongue rolling around the tip. He licked down Vegas’s length, getting him even harder, then moved lower, tonguing over his balls and down to his perineum. Vegas could only squeak when Pete’s tongue laved over his rim. 

“Pete!” 

Pete giggled, his breath feeling strange against Vegas’s sensitive skin. 

“Maybe another day,” Pete replied, then uncapped the lube. Vegas could hear him pouring some into his hand. He gently petted Pete’s hair as Pete moved slowly, feeling around with his dry hand for the spot he wanted. 

The lube was a little cold, but Vegas didn’t complain. Pete was touching him. Pete was going to prep him. 

Pete was going to fuck him. 

Vegas sucked in a breath and Pete’s finger immediately stopped probing. 

“You still okay?” Pete asked. “It’s hard to tell, because I can’t see your face. Talk to me?”

Vegas licked his lips, nodding. “Um, it’s good. I’m just… Anxious. No. Excited?”

Pete kissed his leg, then wrapped a hand around Vegas’s cock as his fingers went back to stretching Vegas open. He kept his strokes light, just enough to keep Vegas hard as he wriggled two fingers in him. 

“I know it’s your first time,” Pete said. “I’ll try to be as gentle as I can.”

Vegas swallowed. “What if I don’t want it so gentle?”

“Then say the word. Your wish is my command.”

Vegas smiled, opening his eyes to stare at the dark ceiling as Pete added a third finger. 

“Tell me you want me, pet.”

“I want you so much, baby.” The words seemingly spilled from Pete’s mouth without him even thinking about them. “I’ve been wanting to be inside you for so long. Been wanting these thighs wrapped around me.”

Vegas moaned, his hands leaving Pete’s hair to cup his cheeks. Pete tilted his face, his mouth finding Vegas’s thumb to give it a suck. 

“You make me feel so good, Pete. So safe.”

“I’ll make you feel even better,” Pete promised. 

“Can-” Vegas began, rocking against Pete’s fingers. “Can you… I want you to come in me.”

Pete’s fingers stilled for a moment, the air between them tense. 

Then Pete’s fingers were gone, the blunt head of his cock replacing them at Vegas’s stretched rim. 

“Fuck, baby,” Pete moaned. “You make me crazy.”

Vegas wrapped his legs around Pete’s waist, locking his ankles together for leverage as he tried to grind down. If Pete didn’t hurry up and give him his cock, Vegas was going to take it himself. 

Pete was thick as he pressed in, the lube easing the slide but not even his fingers fully accounted for the stretch of him. 

Vegas gasped, reaching to brace a hand on Pete’s shoulder. 

“More,” Vegas groaned, his fingernails digging into Pete’s skin. “I want to feel all of you.”

Pete drew back before sliding in closer, lifting Vegas’s hips off the bed completely as he drove back into him. Pete was curled over him, his hips working him deeper and deeper with each thrust as he mouthed at Vegas’s chest and neck. 

“You feel so good. You’re so tight, baby.”

Vegas just clung to Pete in the dark as Pete bottomed out. 

“Fuck,” Vegas choked out. “Fuck me, pet. I wanna feel you move.”

Pete’s hips rolled, and Vegas moaned. He felt so full. It felt even better knowing it was Pete who was making him feel so good. 

Like the perfect pet he was, Pete drove into Vegas, following his every command of more, harder, faster. Vegas’s cock had been trapped between them, but was not neglected. No, Pete’s hand left Vegas’s hip to wrap around him, stroking him in time to his thrusts, which were deep. As Pete shifted the angle of his thrusts slightly, Vegas felt the familiar tingle of Pete brushing over his most sensitive bundle of nerves, lighting him up from the inside. 

“Ah!” Vegas cried, “Right there!”

“Am I gonna make you come, baby?” 

Vegas nodded, his head rolling back as he shouted, “Pete, right there, Pete, oh god, faster.”

Just then, the power came back on. Vegas’s bedside lamp he had turned on before cast light over them both in a way that might as well have opened heaven’s gates. 

Vegas could suddenly see Pete’s perfect face, his features twisted in a grimace of pleasure as he fucked Vegas into the mattress. As he looked into Pete’s dark eyes, Vegas came. 

Pete’s thrusts slowed, staying deep as he worked Vegas through his orgasm. 

With a full body shiver, Vegas pushed Pete to roll them over so he could straddle Pete’s hips. 

“Vegas?” 

“Make me come again,” Vegas said. He felt deranged. He was sore, and sensitive, but he wasn’t done with Pete yet. 

Pete grinned up at him, letting Vegas set the pace as he rotated his hips around Pete’s cock with a whimper. 

Reaching up to touch Vegas’s face, he whispered, “You’re so fucking perfect, you have no idea.”

That was all the motivation Vegas needed. As his cock slowly filled again, he began to bounce himself on Pete’s glorious cock. He felt like Pete had carved a space in him that he would always feel. He knew he would forever feel empty moving forward unless he had Pete’s cock to fill him. 

Letting his head roll toward his shoulder, Vegas lifted himself again and again to drop back down onto Pete’s cock. He teased the head of his own dick, just enough to drive himself wild as his thighs burned. Every part of him felt like it was on fire, but for Pete, he would happily burn. Vegas braced a hand on Pete’s flushed chest, shifting the angle and letting out a moan that Pete echoed. 

“Fill me up, pet. Give it to me.”

Pete’s mouth fell open as Vegas dropped down hard, and together they came. Vegas crumpled onto Pete’s chest, panting heavily as he felt the rush of Pete still coming in spurts as he gave a few more shallow thrusts. 

Vegas exhaled heavily as Pete’s hands found his back to hold him tight. Pete’s chest was still heaving a little as he brushed Vegas’s sweaty hair away from his face. 

“Are you okay, Vegas?”

“Mmm. So good.”

“The power came back.”

Vegas buried his face into the crook of Pete’s neck. 

“Still want you to stay. Stay inside.”

“Okay,” Pete replied gently, stroking Vegas’s hair. 

Vegas’s eyes were already closed as Pete managed to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over them both. Vegas was safe, he was warm, and he was full. 

He was happy. 

Chapter Text

Pete let out a slow breath. He was happily relaxed under Vegas’s desk, his cheek resting on the inside of Vegas’s thigh. Vegas had another meeting, so Pete had offered support. Vegas wanted him close, and Pete was more than happy to oblige. His eyes fell closed as Vegas petted his hair gently, self-soothing with his pet. 

Vegas didn’t talk much, and Pete tuned most of the meeting out. 

Until, at least, an older man addressed Vegas directly. 

“Vegas, Kinn tells me you’re helping with a special project? That must be nice to be so included in our work.”

Pete bared his teeth, his eyes snapping open. How dare that man imply that Vegas shouldn’t be included. Pete knew from the amount of time Vegas spent in his office that he contributed much more than Pete initially suspected. 

Vegas remained calm as he replied, though his hand had stilled on Pete’s head. 

“Yes. The trial is progressing, so I’m sure Kinn will have more to share with you and the board soon.”

Kinn began speaking, and Pete again tuned the voices out. He wanted Vegas’s attention on himself again. 

Pete shifted, moving slowly. Vegas had put a shirt and tie on, for the camera, but under his desk he wore only briefs. Pete slid his cheek along Vegas’s thigh until his face was pressed into the crease between Vegas’s thigh and pelvis. Then, he pressed his nose against Vegas’s soft cock, feeling him jump a little. He made no move to stop Pete, though, so Pete slid the band of his briefs down to free Vegas’s adorable cock. 

When he glanced up, Vegas’s gaze was still locked on the screen, his face giving no indication that anything was amiss. 

Giving his cock a little peck first, Pete took Vegas between his lips, sucking lightly as he drew him in to keep him warm like the good pet he was. Pete settled quickly, content to smell and taste Vegas. With a low hum, Pete closed his eyes as Vegas resumed petting him. 

An unknown number of minutes later, the meeting ended. The laptop clicked shut and Vegas finally addressed him. 

“Pet.”

Blinking up at Vegas, Pete only hummed in response, his mouth still full of Vegas’s slightly less-soft cock.

“Thank you,” Vegas whispered. 

Pete blinked slowly, giving Vegas small sucks to try and encourage him. 

Vegas looked down at him fondly, brushing some hair away from Pete’s face before pushing Pete down on his cock, gagging him a little as he felt Vegas begin to properly plump up. 

Vegas felt better about taking his own pleasure with each interaction they had, and Pete was loving it. 

He moaned loudly as Vegas used him like the wet hole he was offering. When he finally came down Pete’s throat, Pete licked him clean and sighed. 

“Let’s have a bath.”

Pete smiled. A bath would be nice on his aching legs. 

He held Vegas in the tub as Vegas complained about his family and how they treated him. 

“Well,” Pete said, “I think you’re amazing.”

Vegas grinned back at him, and Pete felt something catch in his chest. 

Later, Pete stood in front of the easel in his room, staring at the blank canvas. It had been so long since he had painted, but the only thing he wanted to try and capture was that smile. 

Picking out his paints, Pete began to lay down the background for a night sky. He lost track of time as he painted the view of the garden outside his window. Above it, he painted a bright, glowing moon as the focal point. 

There was a knock on his door. Vegas surprisingly didn’t come to Pete’s room very often, giving him his own space, but Pete never minded his company. 

“Come in.”

Vegas strode in, his attention immediately stolen by the large painting. 

“Pete…”

Pete stepped back so Vegas could examine it more closely. 

“Pete, this is beautiful.”

“It’s you,” Pete said, before he could second-guess himself.

“Me?” 

“Yes.” Setting his brush and palette down, Pete took a deep breath. “You’re the moon.”

Vegas stared at him for a moment, then turned back to the canvas, angling his head. 

“Pete, you painted a representation of me, based on our conversations surrounding metaphors. This is incredible.”

Pete’s stomach sank. Of course, Vegas was viewing the art as something created by artificial intelligence, not something from Pete’s very human heart. 

Smiling weakly, Pete said, “You should paint something. It can be quite therapeutic.”

When he looked back, Vegas’s smile was gone.

Without another word, Vegas stormed out of the room, leaving Pete to wonder what he had done wrong.

That night, Pete was quiet as Arm picked him up. At the lab, he was still quiet until Macau plopped down in the chair next to him. 

“What did Hia do this time, Phi?”

Forcing a smile, Pete let out a dry laugh. 

“I’m afraid it was me, this time. Though I’m not quite sure what set him off.”

Pete explained the situation, ignoring Macau’s face as he explained that he was painting Vegas as the moon. When he was done, Macau was nodding. 

“Mae used to paint. Vegas liked it, too, but she stopped when her sight got too bad and he stopped with her. He probably thinks he can’t anymore.”

Pete scowled, understanding Vegas’s quiet tantrum. 

“It’s a sensitive point. Got it.”

“He’s sensitive,” Macau said, “But don’t give up on him. You’ve already gotten him to do a lot of things he never thought he’d do again.”

Macau fished his phone out of his pocket, and Pete turned to the screen, curious about what Macau meant. There, playing on the screen, was a video of Vegas and Pete riding the Ducati around the driveway as they laughed. 

“Nop sent this to me.”

Pete smiled at the memory. He knew Macau was right. He just needed to give Vegas time to process his complicated feelings. 

When Pol dropped him off that night, Pete wasn’t entirely surprised Vegas wasn’t waiting for him at the door. He figured Vegas was still in a mood. 

When Pete entered his room, he was startled to find Vegas in there, staring at the painting. Vegas was startled, too, given the way he jumped. 

“Hi,” Pete said. Crossing the room, he stopped just beside Vegas. 

“Hi,” Vegas replied quietly. 

They were silent, both of them just staring at the painting, until Vegas finally spoke again. 

“I’m sorry for earlier. You were trying to do something nice, and I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. I’m sorry.”

Pete reached out tentatively and took Vegas’s hand. 

“I forgive you.”

“Pete,” Vegas said, his voice gathering strength. “I- I want to paint. With you. Can we?”

Pete smiled, turning to gently cup Vegas’s cheek. 

“Of course, we can set up in the library in the morning. The natural light will be great there.”

Vegas nodded, giving Pete’s hand a squeeze before he left the room to go to bed. 

Pete lay in bed for an hour, just staring at the ceiling as he wondered about what Vegas might paint. 

Pete joined Vegas for breakfast after already setting everything up in the library. He had gotten up early, since he was excited and equally anxious. He understood Macau’s desire to push Vegas, but he didn’t want to push him too far. 

Vegas patted Venice, like Pete had taken to doing more and more, and told the bot to give them privacy. 

In the library, Pete gave Vegas space. 

“What if it’s not good?” Vegas finally asked, his brush poised over the blank canvas for his fifth attempt at starting.

With a patient smile, Pete pressed up against Vegas’s back. He took hold of Vegas’s wrist, his other hand wrapping protectively around Vegas’s waist. 

“No one has to see it,” Pete replied. “I can leave, too, if you want.”

Vegas pressed back into him. 

“Stay. I need you.”

“You have me. Don’t focus on how it looks. Just paint how you feel.”

Pete guided Vegas’s hand until the paintbrush touched the canvas, then just let Vegas take over. Vegas moved hesitantly at first, then picked up speed as he added color after color, building into a frenzy. The canvas looked angry, injured, the colors darkening more and more as they mixed, and Pete realized that Vegas was crying. 

He stopped, his chest heaving as he leaned his weight more into Pete’s hold. The palette and brush clattered to the floor, and Vegas covered his face as he sobbed. 

“I hate this, Pete. I hate that I’m going blind. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” Pete whispered into the nape of Vegas’s neck. “It’s not fair.”

“Pete, I’m being punished. Maybe I do deserve this.”

“No,” Pete insisted, squeezing Vegas tighter. “You don’t deserve this, baby. You don’t deserve any of this.”

Vegas’s breathing finally settled, and he spun around in Pete’s hold to stare directly into Pete’s eyes. 

“You won’t leave me, right? You’ll be my pet forever? You won’t change your mind one day and abandon me?”

Pete swallowed. The vulnerability in Vegas’s gaze threatened to have him call the whole thing off, NDA be damned. But Vegas didn’t need another shock. He needed reassurance from his loyal companion, his safe space. 

“Never,” Pete exhaled, scooping Vegas up in his arms to press him against the nearest bookshelf.

“Pete,” Vegas nearly wailed, “Tell me I’m not broken.”

“You’re not. You’re so, so perfect.”

Pete’s body felt like a livewire as he pressed himself against Vegas, and Vegas sobbed, his hands scrambling to remove every article of clothing between them. 

“Tell me you want me.”

“I want you. All of the time.”

It was true. Pete’s thoughts for the last several weeks just circled incessantly around Vegas. He knew that was to be expected, since they spent so much time together, but he could tell it was more than that. Vegas made him feel alive. 

“Fuck me.”

Pete nodded, spinning the very nude Vegas around to face the shelf as he dropped to his knees. After nipping Vegas’s toned ass, Pete spread him wide to lick and mouth at his rim. 

“You’re so pretty, Vegas. So sweet. So fucking smart.”

Pete rained praise on Vegas as he used his tongue and fingers to prep Vegas as much as he could without stopping to get the lube. It wasn’t going to be enough, but Vegas didn’t seem to care. Pete had barely managed to get a second finger in when Vegas was pulling him to his feet again. 

“I need you.”

Pete nodded, his own cock painfully hard as he hoisted Vegas up once again. Vegas wrapped his legs around Pete’s waist, letting Pete take his weight while he held onto the shelf behind him. 

“I’ve got you,” Pete grunted, somehow managing to line himself up and breach Vegas.

Vegas hissed, but nodded. “More. Don’t stop. I want to feel you. I need it.”

Pete let gravity do some of the work as he tried to ease his way in as gently as possible. Once he was in as deep as he could get, he rested his head on Vegas’s shoulder for a moment. 

“I told you before,” Pete groaned, rocking his hips to slam back into Vegas, stealing the breath from him. “You’re my whole world. You’re everything.”

Vegas began to cry again, but this time he was smiling. 

“Make me forget, Pete,” Vegas begged between thrusts. “Just for a minute, make me forget I’m broken.”

Pete stared at him, at the wonderful, mesmerizing man knocking books to the floor as Pete roughly fucked him. Taking Vegas’s weight with one hand and setting him partly on a shelf he prayed would hold, Pete placed a hand over Vegas’s eyes. 

“Just feel me, baby. Just hear how much I want you. Feel how perfectly you take me.”

When he took his hand away to grab hold of Vegas’s cock instead, he saw that Vegas kept his eyes shut as he moaned loudly, adding to the sounds of their skin slapping. His grip on the shelf tightened as he worked to help bounce himself on Pete’s cock. 

“You make me feel so good, pet. You make me feel insane.”

Pete moved faster as Vegas’s whine got louder, and suddenly Vegas was coming, spilling messily over Pete’s fingers. Pete only lasted a few more grinding thrusts before he was coming, too.

Panting heavily, Vegas slowly opened his eyes again, the blood returning to his fingers as he finally managed to let go of the shelf so he could pet Pete’s face. 

Moving carefully, Pete slipped out of Vegas with a grimace, not letting him down. Instead, he carried him over to the plush carpet where he spread Vegas out before collapsing down beside him. 

Vegas closed his eyes again as they lay side by side, still catching their breath. 

Pete had just closed his eyes, too, when Vegas opened his mouth. 

“It’s my fault my mother died.”

Pete turned to look at him, but he was just staring, unseeing, at the ceiling. 

“I was running late for class. I had just started uni, and my eyes were already getting bad. I was late because I couldn’t see to find something I needed. I rushed out the door to try and make it on time. She was drowning in the pool. I ran right by her, but I didn’t see her. If…”

Vegas’s voice choked up, and Pete twisted to hold him. 

“If I had seen her… Pa told me that I could have saved her. He took me to the doctor the following month. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry. If only my eyes weren’t fucking broken, Pete.”

“You couldn’t have saved her,” Pete said. “There’s no guarantee of that. I’m sorry, but if you don’t even know how long she had been in the water… Even if you had seen her, it doesn’t mean you could have saved her.”

Pete’s mouth went dry as he remembered how he wasn’t able to save his own mother. He had seen her drinking herself to death, and he had felt powerless to stop her. He had seen his father hurting her, and had been too small to stand up to him and win. He knew how it felt to blame yourself for things outside of your control. 

“But Pa said-”

“He also told you that you were contagious, Vegas.”

Vegas blinked, finally looking at Pete with a mixture of confusion and offense. 

“I am.”

“You’re not. BCD is a rare, recessive genetic mutation. You got it because both of your parents carried the gene, and you drew the unlucky lot. You can’t just spread it to strangers. You can’t even spread it to Macau. If he gets it, it’ll be because of your parents, not you.”

“Are…” Vegas shifted back to look at Pete. “Are you saying Pa got the doctor to lie when he said my case was abnormal?”

Pete shrugged. “I’m saying I think you should get a second opinion. The man also told you your mother drowned because of you, when really you have no proof that she was even in the water when you left for class, do you?”

Furrowing his brow, Vegas faced the ceiling again. 

Pete just held his breath, waiting and bracing for whatever reaction he would get from Vegas. He was unprepared when Vegas sat upright. 

“Pa always had cameras outside.”

Pete had to move quickly to keep up with Vegas, who rushed to find Venice, calling his name from room to room. 

As soon as he got a melodic reply from the bot, Vegas yelled, “Call Kinn. Audio only.”

Pete stayed close, too nervous to touch Vegas, as the phone icon lit up the screen. 

“Vegas? Why are you calling me so early in the day?”

“I need a favor. Do you have access to Pa’s camera files from our old house? I specifically want the camera that faced the pool where-”

“Vegas-”

“-Mae drowned.”

Kinn sighed, and Vegas hung his head. 

“Please, P’Kinn,” he begged, and Pete reached for him. He had never heard Vegas refer to Kinn that way, and from the silence on the other end, the significance was not lost on Kinn either.

“Why do you want this?”

Vegas pressed a hand to his forehead, leaning into Pete just a little.

“I need to know if she was in the pool already when I left the house that morning. I need to know if she was there, and I didn’t see her, or-”

Vegas swallowed again, glancing back at Pete as he said, “Or I need to know if Pa lied to me.”

Kinn’s voice lowered as he said, “I’ll see what I can find. Is Pete with you?”

“I’m here,” Pete spoke up. 

With another sigh, Kinn said, “Good. Keep looking after him. I’ll get back to you when I know something.”

The call ended, and Vegas just held Pete close.

Chapter Text

Closing his laptop, Vegas leaned back in his chair to shake work from his mind. 

A smile lit up his face without him even realizing as he wondered what Pete was doing. 

“What are you thinking about, Boss?” Venice asked, rolling a little closer to his chair. 

Vegas laughed and jokingly said, “Your step-bot.”

Large, pixelated eyes just blinked at him from the screen, so he corrected himself to say, “Pete. I’m thinking about Pete.”

“If Boss is smiling, he’s thinking about P’Pete,” Venice said. “So Boss thinks about P’Pete all the time.”

Vegas sighed. He couldn’t exactly deny it. 

Opening his desk drawer, he pulled out the box that he had yet to give to Pete. Just thinking about giving the gift to Pete made his heart flutter in his chest. He really hoped Pete wouldn’t take it the wrong way. 

Vegas thought about everything that had happened between them, though, and couldn’t believe that Pete wouldn’t like his present. 

“Venice, can you please ask Pete to come here? If he’s not busy.”

With a chirp, Venice rolled out of the room, on a mission. 

While he waited, Vegas got up to stand in front of his desk, setting the box just behind him. He wasn’t wearing anything special, he realized, just his robe and some underwear, but Pete probably wouldn’t mind. In fact, Pete might even like that more. 

Vegas leaned back as seductively as he could, making sure his thighs were on full display. He ran his fingers through his hair quickly as he heard Venice returning. 

Vegas looked up, but didn’t see any sign of Pete. 

“P’Pete said he was busy.”

Vegas huffed, rolling his eyes. “With what? This is obviously more important.”

Venice beeped, but Vegas waved a hand to quiet him. 

“Nevermind. If he’s busy I’ll just go to him.” 

Grabbing the box, Vegas trailed after Venice as he was led to see whatever Pete was busy with. As it turned out, Pete was standing on a chair in the kitchen, changing the lightbulbs. 

“What are you doing?”

“Hi, Vegas,” Pete said with a grin before turning back to the bulb as he twisted the new one in. “I called Nop the other day and we agreed these would be less harsh on your eyes, while still giving you better light. And since I didn’t want to make him put on a suit just for this, I’m changing them.”

When he was done, Pete reached out with his free hand so Vegas could help him down off the chair. 

“What’s up?”

“Venice was supposed to bring you to my office,” Vegas began, but then Venice began beeping his protests, and Vegas shook his head. “But it’s fine. I wanted to give you something.”

“Me?” Pete asked, glancing at Venice. 

“P’Pete makes Boss smile,” Venice blurted, and Vegas gave the little bot a mortified glare. 

“Venice, go ask Nop if he can do the shopping tonight.”

As Venice wheeled himself off, Vegas turned back to Pete. His hands felt clammy suddenly. His mouth was dry. He couldn’t remember the last time he was so nervous. 

Pete was grinning at him like he did when he knew too much. 

“What?” Vegas snapped, all bark and no bite. 

“You make me smile, too.”

Vegas needed to get it over with before he chickened out. 

With his hands shaking a little, he opened the jewelry box. 

“I, uh, I wanted to give this to you. As a token… As, uh. I wanted to remind you that you’re mine. My pet.”

Pete’s eyes went wide, his mouth falling open a little as he peered into the box to see the heart-shaped moonstone sitting in a diamond border. It hung inside an O-ring that was attached to a pearl choker. 

“Is that-”

“A day collar,” Vegas breathed. 

The next sound was a crash as the lightbulb Pete had been holding slipped from his hand and shattered on the floor. The sound snapped Pete out of his daze, and Vegas once more found himself whisked into the air and placed carefully on the nearest surface. 

Before Pete could get away, though, Vegas wrapped his legs around him. 

“Let me get the broom and-”

“Pete.” 

Pete blinked, licking his lips as he turned to face Vegas. 

“You got me a day collar.”

Vegas nodded, somehow feeling even more nervous than before. 

“Do you…not like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” Pete blurted. “It’s…you got me a day collar.”

“I did,” Vegas said with a shy smile. “Will you accept it?”

Pete’s eyes flitted over Vegas’s face, landing on his lips and lingering there for a moment before he met his eyes again. Then, Pete nodded. 

Vegas’s smile broadened as he pulled Pete closer, placing Pete’s hands on his thighs just because he could. As Pete held still, Vegas managed to get the clasp undone so he could loop it around Pete’s gorgeous neck. The fit was perfect.

“This one can be taken off if we need to,” Vegas explained. “Or if you just don’t want to wear it some days. Or maybe in the pool, or something.”

“You got me moonstone,” Pete muttered, one hand reaching up to touch the collar as Vegas centered it. 

“Happy coincidence,” Vegas explained. “I guess we’re just on the same wavelength.”

“I guess so,” Pete said quietly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” 

He looked so pretty, especially wearing Vegas’s gift, his claim, that Vegas suddenly found that he wanted to kiss Pete. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t thought about it before. They had certainly done just about everything else. But kissing felt special. Did androids kiss? Vegas knew from experience that Pete certainly had a talented tongue, but kissing wasn’t just about attraction or getting off. Kissing was tender. Kissing was emotion. 

Vegas slowly leaned his face closer when Venice rolled back into the room. 

“P’Pete, Nop said to let him know if you want anything special with the grocery list.”

“Oh,” Pete said, turning away to free himself from Vegas’s hold, the moment broken. “Venice, don’t come in here yet. Let me sweep up the smashed bulb so it doesn’t get stuck in your treads.”

Vegas swallowed his disappointment and tried not to glare at Venice. 

Still, when Pete had his back turned, he mouthed “bot-blocker” at the little droid. 

Too soon, it was time for Arm to fetch both Pete and Venice for maintenance. Vegas was pouting by the door. They would be gone for hours, and he didn’t know how he was going to cope. 

“Give me a smile,” Pete asked as he helped guide Venice to the door. 

The sight of the collar sitting proudly around Pete’s neck did loosen Vegas’s lips until they curved just a little. 

“It’ll be late when you get back,” Vegas complained, throwing his arms over Pete’s shoulders to keep him from leaving. 

“It will,” Pete agreed. “But we’ll be back. Do you want me to stay with you tonight?”

Vegas nodded. “I want you naked to sleep.”

Pete rolled his eyes but he laughed. “I expected no less. Now, let us go so we can come back.”

Vegas watched through a crack in the door as Pete helped Arm and Pol load Venice into the back of the van, then Pete turned back to give him one last wave before he hopped in the middle while the others sat in the front. Vegas waved back, feeling empty as he closed the door. 

He puttered around for a while, took a nap in Pete’s bed when he went in there to sniff his pillow, then got up to make dinner. He heard Nop take the car out, and realized he was actually alone. He hadn’t been so alone since he had gotten Venice years before. 

It was already getting dark out, so Vegas decided to go lay down in his room to watch a show on his tablet. He was drifting off, the drama losing his interest by the third episode, when he heard the notification from beside his bed that the front door was open. 

“Nop?” Vegas called, rubbing his eyes as he got up to see if he needed help with the groceries. 

The house was dark and Vegas realized that Venice wasn’t there to adjust the lights for him. 

“Nop?” he called again, feeling along the wall for a switch. He found one, but when he flicked it, nothing happened. The power was out again. Then, Vegas turned to see the front door and the second door were both wide open, and the headlights from the car were beaming into the house. 

Vegas spun around just in time to see someone rush at him. 

*****

Pete glanced back to where they had secured Venice to the back of the van, giving him a fond smile. It suddenly occurred to him that they might have all overlooked a very massive problem. 

“Arm, you can’t let Venice see the other Pete. He can’t meet him.”

Pete knew all too well that Venice was terrible at keeping secrets. All it would take would be for him to excitedly tell Vegas that there were now two Petes for him, and the game would be over. 

“Relax,” Arm said. “PET3 is put away. Today we’ll be focusing on doing a full diagnostic on Venice, instead.”

Pete breathed a sigh of relief. 

At the lab, Pete insisted on helping them get Venice out of the van so he could wheel himself inside. Pete, knowing how messy the lab usually was, hurried in front of him in case he needed to clear the path. 

“Didn’t know you were such a helicopter parent,” Macau teased. 

Pete had been so focused on the ground, he hadn’t seen him approach. 

“Hi, Cau! How’re classes going?”

Macau sighed. “Getting closer to midterms already. But I’m studying my ass off. It’s harder, not being there in person, so I have to make up for that.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

Macau turned to greet Venice, who chirped excitedly. When he turned back to Pete, though, Pete saw his eyes narrow on the choker. 

“Is that your gift?” 

Pete blushed a little, his finger moving to tap the charm as if to make sure it was still there. 

“Yeah. He gave it to me today.”

“It’s nice.”

“It is.”

Macau nodded, his hands on his hips. 

Pete braced himself for more teasing, but Macau just nodded. 

“Hia did good.”

And then Macau was off to follow Venice for his maintenance. 

Pete only waited a handful of minutes for Porsche to arrive. He had volunteered to be the one to take Pete back to the city on his longer breaks, so they could hang out and Pete could see Yaai and do whatever else he wanted. This time, Porsche and Kinn both showed up to escort him. 

Kinn gave Pete a serious nod. He told the others he would see them later, and followed Kinn and Porsche to their car. Once they were belted and on the road, Kinn finally said, “I’m still looking into things, Pete. Pa had multiple hard drives hidden around, so my brothers and I have been collecting them and working to see if there’s anything relevant on them. It’s a slow process. But if my uncle killed his wife, and it was recorded, I’m sure my father would have kept it for blackmail. Even with Vegas’s father dead, I’m sure he would have kept that footage.”

Pete nodded at Kinn’s reflection in the rearview mirror. 

“Thank you. If we can do anything to take away some of Vegas’s guilt about his mother’s death, I’ll owe you forever.”

“Enough about Vegas,” Porsche said, turning around in his seat. “You’ve got one month down, and only two to go, Pete. I bet you can’t wait to get back to the city.”

Pete shrugged. “I miss Yaai.”

“And me,” Porsche complained. 

“And you,” Pete allowed, rolling his eyes as he looked out his window. 

Pete spent hours with Yaai, with Kinn and Porsche of course. Pete couldn’t help but wonder if they were keeping an eye on him to make sure he didn’t break his NDA. 

His suspicions shifted, however, when Nurse Tay came in. 

“Tay!” Kinn exclaimed, moving to give him a hug. 

“Kinn, I haven’t seen you in too long.”

Pete knew they were old friends–Porsche wouldn’t shut up about it–but Pete wasn’t interested. He was checking to make sure Yaai had all the puzzle books she would need to keep her busy until he could come again, when Porsche loudly said, “Pete, you know Tay, right?”

Putting on his most commonly used polite smile, Pete nodded at Tay as he said, “I’ve had the honor quite a few times.”

“I’m on a break, so I can’t stay too long,” Tay said with a bright smile. “But it’s nice to see you, Khun Pete.”

“Just Pete is fine.”

“Well,” Porsche said, “Why don’t you take Just Pete to get something to eat before we head out?”

Pete frowned at Porsche, but Porsche just ignored him. 

“We’ll join you,” Kinn said. “It’ll be nice to catch up.”

Pete gave Yaai a big hug, saying he would be back in a few weeks, and reluctantly followed the others down to the hospital cafeteria. 

As he glanced at the offered dishes, unable to stop comparing them to Vegas’s cooking and finding them lacking, Tay sidled up next to Pete to say, “It’s not the best cuisine, but it hits the spot when you’re on a long shift.”

“Anything does, when you’re hungry.” 

“True.” 

Tay smiled at him again and Pete looked around for Porsche. He and Kinn were several yards away, bickering over what they were putting on their shared tray. 

“So, you’ve been friends with Porsche for a few years, right?”

Tay was pretty, he seemed nice. He didn’t deserve the rudeness that Pete was tempted to throw in his direction, so Pete gave another warm smile as he said, “Yep. Since college.”

“Kinn and I got closer there, too, but our dads had known each other for a while.”

“Is he in the same business?”

“Hotels,” Tay replied under his breath, giving a look that indicated he was over it.

“Any I might have stayed in?”

“Have you stayed in a hotel?”

Pete laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, no.”

Tay laughed, his eyes curving nicely. “Well, bad example. But if you’ve walked past a nice hotel in Bangkok, he probably owns it.”

Pete nodded. “How’d you get into nursing, then?”

Taking their trays, they headed to the checkout so they could join the others at a table. 

“I just didn’t feel happy. Hospitality is a great business, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted to be useful in a different way. I wanted to help people when they really needed it. Maybe that sounds egotistical…”

“No,” Pete said quickly. “I think nurses don’t get the respect they deserve. They put up with a lot, and it’s often a thankless job. But it’s a noble one.”

Tay gave him a soft look, then said, “Thank you, Pete. That’s actually really nice of you to say.”

They kept up casual conversation while they ate, which wasn’t for long as Tay had to rush back to work. 

In the car, Pete watched the streetlights go by as he gently touched his necklace. He missed Vegas, and was eager to get home to him. 

Home. 

He had only been there a month, but it felt like he belonged there. 

“Tay’s single,” Porsche blurted. 

Pete sighed. 

“Not interested.”

“He’s a really great guy,” Kinn said, nodding at Porsche supportively. 

“You’re single,” Porsche said, twisting in his seat to look at Pete. 

“I’m not,” Pete replied coldly. “You read the contract. I belong to Vegas.”

“Only for the next two months.”

Pete didn’t reply to that. He just went back to looking out the window as he willed Kinn to drive faster. 

As they approached the long driveway, Pete asked, “Is Venice back?”

Porsche checked his phone, then reported, “They’re on the way. Should only be a few minutes behind us.”

“Good. Vegas is waiting for us.”

As they passed through the gate with the code, Kinn narrowed his eyes and shifted forward in the driver’s seat. 

“What the hell?”

Pete jolted forward to see through the windshield. The house was dark, the car headlights shining a spotlight to the front door, where they could see a figure on the ground, grocery bags dropped around him. 

“Nop?” Pete yelled, yanking on his door handle as Kinn parked the car. 

“Pete?” Porsche called. 

Without looking back, Pete said, “You two check on Nop and tell the others to get here immediately. I’ll go find Vegas.”

As soon as Pete crossed the threshold, giving Nop a worried glance, he heard the sounds of a struggle. 

He could see at least three figures tugging on another: Vegas. 

“Vegas!” 

“-ete,” Vegas grunted, sounding like he was fighting for air. 

Pete was already moving, using his boxing lessons to knock out the men. It was hard to see with only the headlights to guide him, the figures casting deep shadows around them, but Pete definitely saw the glint of a weapon. Had they hurt Vegas? 

He would kill them. 

First, though, he needed to get Vegas stable. He was clearly already having a reaction. 

Pete knocked the second man out cold, and the third swiped at him before he was able to grab him by the neck and smash his head onto the counter. Breathing heavily, Pete made sure none of them were getting back up before he hurried to Vegas’s side. 

“I’m here, baby,” he said gently. “It’s me. You’re safe now.”

“Pete,” Vegas wheezed, reaching for him. 

“Is Venice back?” Pete screamed, turning toward the door.

“Almost,” Porsche replied. “Any minute.”

The lights came back on, and Pete could see how red and splotchy Vegas’s skin had become. It was even worse than the first reaction Pete had seen. 

“Just breathe,” Pete begged him, taking Vegas in his arms. “Just hold on for me, okay? Venice is almost here. We’ll get you your medicine.”

“Pete,” Vegas said. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” Pete choked out. “I told you I’d always come back. I said I’d keep you safe, Vegas.”

Vegas’s grip on him tightened, and his wheezing began to let up some. 

“Vegas?” Pete whispered, worried that Vegas had stopped breathing altogether. “Baby, please. Please, stay with me.”

“I’m okay,” Vegas said. “Pete, I’m okay.”

Pete leaned back just enough to get a good look at him, and sure enough, Vegas’s rash was fading. He was breathing much easier, too. 

“How?” Pete asked, pulling Vegas into a tight hug once more. Pete was shaking, he felt like he would shatter to pieces if he let go of Vegas any time soon. 

“I don’t know,” Vegas murmured. “But I feel fine now. You saved me.”

“Let’s get you up,” Pete insisted, shifting to help Vegas to his feet. 

“Hia?” Came Macau’s voice came suddenly, and then Macau was running toward them. 

Vegas blinked, looking almost dazed as he looked at his brother. 

“Cau?” 

Before Pete could even think to stop him, Macau crashed into them, holding Vegas tightly as he began to sob. 

“You scared me, Hia. I thought someone had hurt you.”

“I’m sorry,” Vegas replied, using the arm not clutching Pete to hold Macau back. “They almost did, but Pete saved me.”

“Thank you, P’Pete,” Macau sighed, pulling Pete even more into the hug. 

“What are you doing here?” Vegas asked. “You’re supposed to be-”

“I’ll explain later. Let’s get you your medicine.”

Macau started to walk away, but Vegas stayed where he was, turning to look at Pete incredulously. 

“Cau’s not wearing a suit. He… He hugged me, and I’m still fine.”

“Holy shit,” Macau gasped. “You’re right. Oh, god, Hia, I’m so sorry-”

Before Macau could apologize more, Pete watched as Vegas grabbed him for another hug. Pete waited with bated breath, but Vegas continued to breathe easily. His skin still looked clear. 

Porsche ran toward them, giving Pete a serious look. 

“Nop’s been hit on the head pretty hard, but he’s okay. We’ll take him to the hospital to get looked over. But Pete, you should come here.”

Pete didn’t want to leave Vegas, but Porsche was insistent. 

“What?” Pete whispered loudly as soon as he and Porsche stepped a few feet away. 

“You’re bleeding, Pete. Androids don’t bleed.”

“Fuck,” Pete hissed, twisting his arm to see that he did had a small slash on the back of his forearm. “It’ll be fine. I’ll just bandage it up myself. It’s not even deep.”

Porsche sighed, but before he could protest, Macau was screaming. 

“P’Pete!” 

Pete turned back to see that Vegas was starting to have a reaction again, and without thinking, he rushed back over to him. As soon as Vegas grabbed hold of Pete again, though, he began to calm down once more. Yet again, his breathing returned to normal and the flush of his skin lightened. 

Macau blinked, looking between them. 

“Wow. I think you might be the cure, Phi.”

Chapter Text

Vegas clung tightly to Pete, and not just to prevent another reaction as body after body spilled into the house. Kinn had called some of his men he must have had on standby, and they quickly set to work straightening the place up, starting with getting the assailants out of there. Nop was already on his way to the hospital, with Pol taking him while Arm stayed to help with Venice and Pete. 

Macau anxiously hovered near Vegas as Vegas burrowed into Pete’s side, taking slow deep breaths with his face pressed into Pete’s neck. He had a hand wrapped around the other side of Pete’s neck, his fingers fiddling with the pearls on his collar to keep himself calm. 

The house was in utter chaos, and Vegas was exhausted. He just wanted to go to bed. 

Vaguely, he was aware of Arm approaching them for a moment to talk with Pete in hushed tones, but Vegas tuned them out, along with all the other overlapping voices in his space. It was too much. 

He was just so tired. 

He was tired, and he wanted to just go to bed with his pet. His pet, who had protected him fiercely. Macau had remarked that at least one of the guys might have been killed, and Vegas hoped they were. 

“I’m going to see if we can get any information out of the one who’s still conscious,” Kinn said. “Clearly, this was well-planned. They waited until Vegas was alone and used Nop to gain access to the house.”

“The power outage,” Pete said. “The power went out the other week, and we couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was a test run.”

“But what were they after?” Porsche asked. “Were they trying to rob the place?”

“They were focused on Vegas,” Pete replied, his hold on Vegas tightening enough to force a breath from him. “All three of them were surrounding him. Who knows what they were trying to do.”

Vegas whimpered quietly, shifting to whisper in Pete’s ear, “Take me to bed, pet.”

In an instant, Pete announced, “Time for everyone to go. We can talk about this more in the morning, but I need to get Vegas to bed.”

“Right,” Porsche said. “I’ll take the couch.”

Vegas showed his face for the first time in several minutes to glare at Porsche. 

“Everyone out means you, Porsche.”

“Hia-”

Twisting to face his brother, Vegas added, “Macau can stay. You can have my room, Cau. You can have Venice and I’ll stay with Pete.”

“But-” Porsche started, but Kinn touched his arm, silencing him. 

“We can come back in the morning. Let’s let them get some rest.”

Arm sighed. “I’ll check in with Pol about how Nop is doing.”

“Thanks,” Vegas managed to say as he tried to peel himself away from Pete. 

Pete didn’t let him, though. He just shifted Vegas’s weight, lifting him easily as he got to his feet. For a moment, Vegas wondered if he should be a little embarrassed by his android carrying him like a helpless child as everyone watched, but then he got another whiff of Pete’s scent and realized he didn’t care. Pete was doing what he was made to do. He was keeping Vegas safe. 

“I will leave some security outside tonight,” Kinn said. “Just to keep an eye on the house, in case they were working with others.”

Macau started shuffling everyone out as Pete carried Vegas to his room, shutting the door behind them and locking it. Carefully, he set Vegas on the edge of the bed, then began examining every inch of him he could see in the low light, eventually stripping his clothes off down to his briefs to check the rest of him. 

“You look okay, baby. No scratches. How’s your breathing? Do you want me to get your medicine from Venice?”

“I’m okay,” Vegas said, cupping Pete’s cheeks to bring his face close. “You kept me safe.”

Pete sank the rest of the way to the floor, kneeling in front of him as he closed his eyes and said, “I’m so sorry, Vegas. If I had gotten back just a little sooner-”

“You got here on time,” Vegas assured him. 

“That… That scared me,” Pete whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done if-”

“I was scared, too. But as soon as I saw your face, I knew I would be okay. Pete, can you look at me?”

Pete opened his eyes slowly, and Vegas took in a sharp breath. 

There was that feeling again, that had been filling, expanding his chest for weeks. He thought he understood what it was. He thought he could explain it. 

Pete sighed, getting up to sit beside Vegas on the bed to pull him into his embrace. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay, baby.”

When Pete pulled away again, he pressed his lips to Vegas’s forehead. He kissed his nose, his cheek. With each press of Pete’s lips to his face, Vegas felt that tight heat in his chest screaming for attention. It was screaming to be named already. 

Gripping Pete’s face, Vegas brought their mouths together. After only a second, Pete was kissing him back, his tongue probing as Vegas parted his lips for him. 

He had been right. 

Pete was a fantastic kisser. 

Vegas couldn’t believe he had taken so long to kiss him, and now he never wanted to stop. 

He whimpered, his hands reaching to tug Pete out of his clothes, too. Pete helped him, twisting to chase Vegas up the mattress. Vegas’s head was spinning, the words on the tip of his tongue. He could feel the truth with every thump of his heart. 

“Pete,” Vegas gasped, taking a breath as Pete kissed his neck. “Pete, I need to-”

Pete blinked, the dim fairy lights providing the only illumination in the room, other than the pale moonlight coming in through the window. As Vegas leaned his head back, he imagined the fairy lights were stars twinkling down on them.

Meeting Pete’s dark gaze once more, Vegas kissed him again and said, “Pete, I love you.”

Pete blinked, his brow furrowing. “Vegas-”

“No, I need you to listen. I love you. I know you’re an android. I know that, but I’ve fallen in love with you, anyway. And I don’t want you to say it back. Maybe one day, when you feel it, too. But don’t say it until you feel it, Pete. Please. Only-”

“I love you,” Pete gasped. “I love you, too. I do.”

The pressure in Vegas’s chest threatened to overtake him completely. He worried he might pass out. He couldn’t breathe, but then Pete was kissing him again, and everything was right. 

Vegas’s eyes were wet with joyous tears that Pete kissed away. 

“I love you, Pete.”

Pete managed to get them both totally naked and under the covers before he reached for the nightstand drawer. When he returned with the lube, Vegas only shifted under him, spreading his legs wider. Pete slicked him up as quickly as he could, each of them desperate to be joined already. 

Finally, Pete pressed in with a soft groan. Vegas kissed him, again and again, sharing breath with Pete as they found their rhythm. Everything felt even more intense than usual, Vegas noticed, and wondered how much of that had to do with the evening’s events and how much of that had to do with the way Pete was looking at him. 

Casting aside the earlier stress, Vegas focused entirely on Pete, on the moment. 

“Fuck,” Pete hissed, lifting one of Vegas’s legs to get even deeper. “Fuck, I love you so much, Vegas. I don’t want to let you go.”

Vegas shook his head, swallowing thickly just as another wave of pleasure rocked through him. Pete wasn’t fucking him hard, but each stroke of his thick cock felt incredible. 

Vegas’s back arched off the bed as Pete ground into him. As soon as he could, he pulled Pete into another heated kiss. 

“Love you, Pete, you make me feel so good. Ah,” Vegas moaned, his arms tightening around Pete’s neck. “Right- Right there.”

The next time Pete kissed him, Vegas came between them, untouched. 

“Come for me,” Vegas whispered, licking into Pete’s mouth. Pete nodded, his grip on Vegas’s waist tightening as he filled Vegas hotly. 

As they came down, panting together, their kisses turned slow and languid. Pete brushed some hair away from Vegas’s sweaty face, then reached between them to touch Vegas’s still hard cock. 

“Let me make you come again,” Pete begged. 

Vegas thought he might well and truly pass out, but he nodded, kissing Pete as Pete stroked him. Vegas was still full, so he rocked his hips, making Pete hiss as well. 

“One more,” Vegas demanded. “Show me how much you love me.”

Pete’s eyes shut tight for a moment as he thickened up inside of Vegas again. 

His fingers twisted over the head of Vegas’s cock and Vegas threw his head back, weakly coming a second time between them. 

With a few more thrusts, Pete came again, too, and Vegas could feel him spilling out, even before Pete gingerly removed himself. Shockwave after shockwave seized his muscles in waves as Vegas shivered. 

“Let me clean you up,” Pete mumbled, giving Vegas another sweet kiss before disappearing into the bathroom for a moment. He returned with a warm cloth, and Vegas could only lie there while Pete gently wiped him down. 

Vegas was exhausted, but his heart was dancing in his throat. His head was spinning. He was in love with Pete. Pete loved him back. 

As Pete collapsed beside him again, Vegas shifted to face him. 

“I love you,” Vegas whispered. Pete grinned at him, and Vegas moved to poke his dimple. “Will you hold me?”

“I’d love to,” Pete replied softly, pressing a kiss to Vegas’s temple. 

Vegas twisted around, pulling Pete close to his back as he tucked into him. He could feel Pete’s warmth all around him, could smell Pete’s scent in the air and on the sheets. He was safe. Pete was there to protect him. Closing his eyes, Vegas fell right to sleep. 

*****

Pete lay in the dark for several minutes, just listening to Vegas breathe. He was waiting to hear the slightest wheeze, the barest hint that Vegas was struggling, but there was nothing. His breathing remained deep, slow, and steady as he slumbered on, oblivious to Pete’s concern. 

Finally, Pete let out a long sigh as he buried his nose in the hair at the nape of Vegas’s neck and breathed him in.

Vegas was safe. He had protected him, like he had promised to do. 

When Pete had accepted the job, he hadn’t expected to physically have to defend Vegas. He could only thank the skills his father had instilled in him that he could. He would consider it the only gift his father ever gave him. 

Pete was drained, but every inch of his skin was still buzzing. Not only had they had another round of incredible sex, but Vegas said he loved him. He said he was in love with him. 

Pete had responded truthfully, not worried about the consequences. He would sort it all out soon. Somehow. The important thing was that Vegas loved him. Vegas loved him, and Vegas was making progress. 

Pete awoke first, still wrapped around Vegas. He smiled, shifting so he could stare at Vegas’s face in the morning light. He was beautiful, even as Pete could see the hint of a bruise under Vegas’s chin. He had seen Vegas fighting back, even as he struggled to breathe, and he was insanely proud of his baby. 

“I love you,” Pete whispered, just above Vegas’s ear as he slept on. 

With as little movement as possible, Pete slipped free to take a quick shower. As he watched Vegas still sleeping, Pete dressed in comfortable joggers and a soft, loose sweater. The cut on his arm was more a scratch than anything, and it was already scabbed over. Pete doubted it would even leave a scar. With any luck, Vegas wouldn’t even notice it before he healed, especially if he kept long sleeves on. 

Dropping another soft kiss to Vegas’s forehead, Pete shuffled out to the kitchen to check the damage. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything broken on the floor that Vegas could cut himself on or Venice could roll over. 

The place was surprisingly clean. He couldn’t find a speck of blood anywhere. Only the small crack in the counter gave a clue that anything had happened at all. 

Pete had just started making coffee when he heard Vegas calling him from the hall. 

“Pet?”

“I’m in the kitchen, baby.”

Vegas looked adorable as he trudged in, wrapped in Pete’s sheet. His hair was a mess and he still looked half-asleep. 

Pete opened his arms, and Vegas curled right into his chest for a hug. 

Even after the night they shared, Pete was still a little surprised when Vegas pulled back to give him a firm kiss on the lips. 

He was so surprised that a small sound escaped his lips, but not Vegas’s notice. 

Vegas wrapped an arm around his neck to tug him closer, as Pete backed him against the counter, deepening the kiss. 

As he had so many times before, Pete grabbed Vegas to lift him easily and set him on the counter. Vegas only hummed, leaning forward so he could keep kissing Pete. 

The coffee machine beeped, and Pete pulled away, just to say, “I made you coffee.”

“Thank you, Pete.”

Just as Vegas leaned in slowly for another kiss, the loud sound of Macau clearing his throat startled Pete to turn his head. 

“Pet,” Vegas growled in a low voice, taking Pete’s chin between his fingers to force Pete to look at him again. “Don’t turn away from my kiss again.”

Pete was helpless but to nod as his eyes locked onto Vegas’s kiss-swollen lips. 

Vegas gave him another sweet kiss, this one chaste, before he released Pete so they could both turn to face Macau. Venice chirped excitedly as he rolled by. 

“Boss likes P’Pete!”

“Correction,” Vegas replied fondly, wrapping his arms around Pete’s shoulders as Pete leaned back between his legs. “I love Pete.”

Pete caught the way Macau’s eyes went comically wide as he grinned. 

Twisting, Pete gave Vegas’s cheek a soft peck. “Why don’t you go take a shower and get dressed? Then you can make breakfast for Macau.”

“You’ll still be here?” Vegas mumbled, and Pete’s heart nearly broke. 

“Of course. I’ll even keep your coffee warm.”

“Deal.” Vegas grinned, his face bright enough to put the sun to shame, and let Pete help him down from the counter so he didn’t get tangled in the sheet. 

As soon as Vegas was gone, Macau dropped into a seat at the table. 

“He’s looking much better.”

Pete blushed, grabbing a mug for himself and Macau so they could get some coffee while they waited. 

When Pete finally sat down, his nerves were shot. Macau was still looking at him with that curious smile on his face. 

“Say whatever you need to say,” Pete blurted. 

“Don’t tell him yet,” Macau replied, his expression turning serious. When Pete cocked an eyebrow, Macau continued. “Don’t tell him about PET3 yet. About the contract. He’s just now coming out of his shell. He’s trusting you so much. Don’t break that.”

Pete swallowed, the coffee tasting like acid in his throat. 

“I don’t want to keep lying to him, Cau.”

“I know, P’Pete,” Macau said, reaching out to touch his arm. “Just a little longer, please. If we can break him of his fear of people, we can at least get him to a doctor. We might be able to talk to him about treatment. I just don’t want to lose all of that when we’ve never been so close to getting it before.”

Pete sighed. Macau was so young, so innocent. Pete tried to imagine Vegas at that age, being told that he had let his mother drown, all while facing a scary medical diagnosis. He couldn’t imagine it. And Vegas had been alone for so many years. 

Pete hummed, taking another sip of his coffee. He needed to tell Vegas the truth, but he was worried that Vegas might never want to see him again. At least, he owed it to him to see the contract through. He owed it to Vegas to try and give him the best chance he could get, moving forward. 

Whatever karma Pete got as a result of the deception, he would deal with on his own. 

“Okay. I don’t like it, but I understand. I’ll keep doing what I can to help him.”

“Thank you, Phi!” Macau shouted, jumping up and almost spilling Pete’s coffee as he threw his arms around him. “You’re the best.”

Venice beeped loudly, getting their attention again as he spun around. “P’Pete is the best!”

“And so are you, Venice,” Pete said with a smile. Turning back to Macau, he asked how the updates on Venice had gone. 

Macau was just about done catching him up on the minor modifications to his operating system and on the small bolts they replaced when Vegas returned, freshly showered and dressed. 

“You two catching up?”

Pete blinked, confused for a moment, before Macau reached out to touch his shoulder. 

“That’s right. Never forget I’m the reason you have P’Pete.”

“Brat,” Vegas huffed with a laugh, moving to ruffle Macau’s hair affectionately. He stopped at the last second, his hand hovering as the smile dropped from Macau’s face. Pete watched Vegas carefully for any signs of distress. As soon as Vegas’s breath quickened, Pete was up, wrapping himself around Vegas’s back. 

Macau went to try and put some distance between them, but Pete stopped him with a single wave of his hand. 

“It’s okay,” Pete said, keeping his voice level and calm. “I’m here. Venice is right there with your medication, yeah?” 

Vegas licked his lips, still wheezing just slightly as he nodded. 

He was as still in Pete’s tight hold as a rabbit in a snare.

Lowering his voice, Pete said, “I’m right here, baby. You’re safe. Remember, he lied to you. Your body has been lying to you. You’re not allergic. You were just scared. But you don’t have to be scared anymore. I’m right beside you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hia?” Macau called, his voice frail but hopeful. 

“I’m okay,” Vegas repeated, his breathing even once more. Addressing his brother, he said, “Pete won’t let me get hurt.”

Then, Pete watched as Vegas took a shaky step forward, then another. 

He swallowed as Vegas reached out and touched Macau’s head. Macau grinned, and Vegas flashed Pete a smile before he threw his arms around Macau, hugging him tight. 

Pete wiped away a tear as he cleared his throat. 

Patting Venice, Pete said, “This calls for a celebration. I say we make pancakes.”

Chapter Text

As soon as they sat down to have breakfast, Vegas pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes at his brother. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be halfway across the globe?”

Macau’s fork paused halfway to his mouth. 

With a shit-eating grin, he gave Vegas the best puppy eyes he could muster. 

“I’m on break?”

“Before midterms? Try again.”

Macau sighed, dropping his fork onto his plate. 

“Okay, fine. I’ve been doing online classes. I wanted to be close in case you needed me.”

Vegas made a terse sound, but when he looked at Pete, Pete was also looking quite guilty. 

“And I’m assuming you knew this?”

Before Pete could answer, Macau jumped back into the fray. “I asked P’Pete not to tell you. But I’ve been helping with his charging sessions. And his other stuff.”

“Venice didn’t know!” Venice piped up, and Vegas bent to give him a fond pat. 

Vegas listened while Macau gave a more truthful and accurate account of how school was going, his hand finding Pete’s under the table to give him a fond squeeze to let Pete know he wasn’t really upset with him for lying. 

That idea, though, that Pete could lie, lodged painfully in his side. 

“Cau?”

“Yeah, Hia?”

“Can androids be programmed to lie?”

“Of course they can,” Macau said easily, shrugging. “They can be programmed to do anything.” 

Vegas couldn’t bring himself to look at Pete, though Pete’s hand tightened around his, as he asked, “Did you program Pete to love me?”

Macau dropped his fork again as he realized what Vegas was asking. 

“Shit, Hia, no. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Macau glanced between them, his gaze pleading as it landed on Vegas again. “Please believe me. He was programmed to keep you safe, and to obey commands, but we can’t program emotions like that. And no, we didn’t even think to program Pete to lie to you like that. Remember, I wanted you to form a genuine connection. He learns from being with you, that’s all.”

Vegas relaxed a little. He trusted Macau. More than anyone. 

“Well, he doesn’t follow commands easily, either. He’s quite stubborn.”

Pete blinked flirtatiously as he asked, “Would you like me to start being obedient, Master?”

Vegas scowled, shaking his head. 

“I don’t like that. I like knowing that you do things because you want to.”

Pete leaned closer, tapping under Vegas’s chin to tilt his head toward him. 

“Trust me,” Pete said in a low voice, “I only do exactly what I want to.”

Vegas pulled him in for a kiss as Macau made a gagging sound. 

“TMI, Phi.”

Pete giggled, then got up to start clearing the table. 

“I can do that,” Vegas said. 

“I know,” Pete replied easily. “But you’re visiting with Macau. You can clean up next time.”

That warm feeling that never really subsided swelled in his chest again, and at least Vegas now had the clarity to recognize it for what it was. 

He loved Pete. Unconditionally. 

Their peace was all but shattered when the others reappeared, as promised. 

It was easier to be close to Macau, knowing that it wouldn’t cause a reaction, but Vegas was still anxious around the others. 

He stuck close to Pete’s side, but Pete didn’t even try to push him out of his comfort zone. If anything, Pete was the one orbiting him. 

Plopping himself onto the couch, Porsche said, “Nop has a concussion, but it’s not bad. He only got a few stitches, and the hospital said that he could come home today. Then, they just want to see him for a follow up in a few weeks.”

Vegas turned to look at Pete, who was watching him carefully. He felt like it was at least partially his fault that Nop had gotten hurt. The man had only ever been kind and accommodating to him, and Vegas desperately wanted to do something in return. 

Licking his lips, Vegas slipped his hand under Pete’s sweater, around his waist, and said, “I want to go pick him up. Me and Pete.”

Kinn blinked, the shock on his face evident even with Vegas’s poor vision. 

“But, you-”

“Pete said I’m not allergic like I thought I was. My Pa lied about me being contagious, and I was afraid to be close because I thought I was going to spread it. I thought… I thought I would ruin all of you.”

Kinn stepped closer, moving slowly so as not to startle him. 

“Vegas, we’ve been trying to tell you that for years. And all of a sudden-”

“Pete said.”

Vegas raised his chin. He knew Kinn probably saw him as a petulant teenager still, but he didn’t care. He knew it sounded ridiculous, but Kinn had no idea how deep the bond between himself and Pete had gotten. He could never understand their love, their affection, their trust. 

“I’ll show you,” Vegas said, glancing at Pete. “Pete, I can do this, right?”

“Of course,” Pete said with a broad grin. “Do you want me close, or do you want some space?”

He always wanted Pete close, of course. If he could, he would find a way to open Pete’s chest compartment to make room for himself amongst the wires and welding. Either that, or perhaps he could have a part of Pete implanted in himself to carry around forever. 

“Baby?” Pete whispered, getting his attention again. Vegas realized he had been staring at Pete’s collar. That would have to do for the time being. 

“I can do it,” Vegas insisted. “You can step back.”

He needed to prove it to himself as much as to them. He could get close without triggering a reaction, even if Pete wasn’t close enough to touch. 

“Okay,” Pete said. “I won’t be far if you change your mind.”

Vegas nodded, wanting to kiss him again. 

Soon. 

Pete stepped back, giving him a wide berth as Vegas turned to approach Kinn, who was still waiting for him. 

Vegas took deep, steady breaths as he approached, reminding himself over and over that he was okay. He was going to be okay. He wasn’t allergic. Pete was right there. 

Finally, Vegas reached out to take Kinn’s offered hand. 

“Vegas,” Kinn breathed, and then Kinn was pulling him in for a hug, to the surprise of everyone in the room. “You’re back.”

Vegas closed his eyes, clenching his fist as he swore he would not let Kinn make him cry. 

When they pulled apart, Macau was the first to jump in and check Vegas over for any signs of a rash. 

“See?” Vegas said, his voice breaking a little. “Pete said.”

He reached behind himself, without looking, and grinned as Pete’s hand slid into his moments later. He couldn’t wait to be alone with him again.

When Vegas looked over at Kinn again, he wore a slight grimace. 

“I say we don’t tell Pa about this yet. We still don’t know who tried to attack you, or why, and my gut is telling me to keep this development close to my vest.”

“So you’re going to tell your brothers?” Porsche asked, getting to his feet to join their little cluster. 

“Of course,” Kinn said. “Who do you think is going to help me get to the bottom of this?”

“I wonder if the whole point was just to scare Vegas,” Pete said, his brow furrowed. When Kinn asked what he meant, he said, “Well, Vegas has been talking about helping you with a new project. He’s been helping more with the company. He’s been branching out more. I wonder if someone was just trying to send him a message to remember his place. They honestly didn’t seem like they were trying to hurt him or even really get him to another location.”

“Maybe,” Kinn said. “I’ll start by looking into the other board members, especially those who weren’t fond of my uncle. Unfortunately, that’s most of them.”

As they all gathered to leave (even Macau who wanted to get back to the lab), Vegas decided to leave that project to Kinn. He had other things to focus on. Namely, being madly in love. 

“Pet,” Vegas called as they shut the door. “We’re alone now.”

“Venice is still here,” Pete replied cheekily. 

“Venice is always here. I meant the others are gone.”

Pete wrapped his arms around Vegas, pulling him in for a lingering kiss, and Vegas felt his lips and nose tingle. He was so happy that Pete also initiated kisses as much as he initiated other forms of affection. 

“Venice can’t get to the pool,” Vegas whispered when they pulled apart for air. “Fuck me in the pool?”

“Let me find the right lube,” Pete replied, already lifting Vegas to carry him off. 

*****

Pool sex turned out to be as funny as it was hot, with the silicone-based lube making everything slippery as they splashed around.

Pete’s heart still raced, though, as Vegas smiled at him, cupping Pete’s face to say, “I love you so much,” before giving him a sweet, tongue-twisting kiss. 

Pete felt like he was truly losing his mind. He loved Vegas. He loved him to the degree that it physically ached in his chest, and he knew one day he would have to tell Vegas the truth–that he was human–and hope that Vegas still held onto that love. 

He could feel his mind fracturing, to keep himself sane. With Vegas, the safest option was to just be his android. Sure, Pete’s feelings were real, his actions were his own, but he could let himself pretend, just a little longer. 

The other Pete, the Pete who had to worry about finding a job, and Yaai’s health, and paying bills and paying rent and other fucking people, that Pete could wait his turn. 

So Pete just smiled, and kissed Vegas, and fucked him in the small pool until Vegas was screaming his name and laughing as the water splashed them both. 

Afterwards, they cuddled together on the couch, wrapped only in their towels. They were planning on picking Nop up in the afternoon, since that was when they said he would be discharged, so they were in no rush. 

“Pete?”

“Hmm?”

“How exactly does your dick work?”

Pete laughed, his eyes still closed. He had been waiting for Vegas’s inevitable curiosity. 

“The same as yours,” Pete replied simply. “I’m meant to be realistic. I feel sensation. Electrical impulses direct some of those as arousal, and I get hard.”

“Yeah,” Vegas huffed, opening Pete’s towel with the snap of his wrist. “But what’s the point of making a robot come?”

Opening one eye, Pete gave him a smartass grin and said, “Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one who seems to enjoy it so much.”

Vegas rolled his eyes. “The more emotional intelligence you gain, the more difficult you become, you know.”

“I learned from the best,” Pete teased, rolling over to tickle Vegas until he was laughing so hard he was practically crying. 

When they settled down again, Vegas ran his hand over Pete’s body as he said, "Seriously, though. How does it work?”

Pete sighed. Luckily, Pol and Arm had prepped him a little in case Vegas asked too many questions. 

“The simple way to explain is that liquids that go in, come out. Some are converted to saliva, others are just evacuated as waste. And others…”

“Become ejaculate? Weird.” 

Pete thought they were done, but then Vegas’s head snapped up. 

“So you’re saying when you swallow…”

Pete threw his head back and laughed boisterously. Vegas pouted, but then Pete ran his fingers through Vegas’s thick hair and said, “I love you. I love how curious you are. But I really can’t explain it all. You’ll have to ask Arm if you want to really know how it works.”

Vegas hummed, relaxing again. 

After they shared lunch, Vegas disappeared into his room to shower, while Pete went to his own room to do the same. When he emerged, though, towel wrapped tightly around his waist, he was surprised to see Vegas sitting on the foot of his bed. He was leaned back, seemingly relaxed as he waited for Pete. 

“You ready to go, baby?” Pete asked. “I just need to get dressed.”

“Come here, pet,” Vegas called, waving Pete over with his hand. When Pete was within reach, Vegas grabbed his towel to pull him even closer. 

“Vegas?” 

Pete knew that dark look in Vegas’s eyes. 

After three orgasms in less than 24 hours, though, Pete knew he didn’t have anything left to give. 

He could only watch, though, as Vegas loosened the towel and let it fall to the floor. 

“I realized something,” Vegas murmured, his eyes burning a line down Pete’s torso and to his cock, which was already showing interest, despite the fact that Pete was tapped out. 

“What’s that?”

“I’ve never blown you.”

Pete blinked. He loved blowjobs. He absolutely adored sucking Vegas’s cock, and would happily get on his knees multiple times a day, but he hadn’t thought that Vegas was interested in reciprocating. After all, Pete was way more focused and generally more interested in getting Vegas off, however that looked. 

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” Pete said quietly. 

“Didn’t want to?”

“I mean…” Pete stumbled through his words, hoping he made sense. “Why would you? What’s in it for you?”

“What’s not in it for me? You’re gorgeous, Pete. All of you. You make me feel amazing.”

When Pete just stared at him for a moment, Vegas rested a hand on Pete’s hip and asked, “Do you not want me to do this?”

Shaking his head, Pete licked his lips and said, “I do. I want this. But I’m just wondering why you would want to. I’m wondering how you get pleasure from it.”

Vegas grinned wickedly. “It gives me pleasure because it’s you, Pete. It’s you being my good boy and letting me taste you. It’s you letting me touch you. No one else can touch you like this, right?”

“No,” Pete gasped. “Only you.”

“Exactly. I want to suck your cock, because this cock belongs to me, right? I can do whatever I want with it, and I want to suck it.”

Well, when he put it like that…

“Now hold still for me, pet,” Vegas purred. 

Pete could only nod as Vegas pulled him closer by his hips. For a moment, Vegas just stared at him, touching him gently as he peppered Pete’s skin with kisses. 

The kisses then turned to kitten licks, and Pete was tugged even closer as Vegas got more of his mouth on him. 

“Look at you getting hard for me,” Vegas murmured. “Such a good boy, pet. Letting me taste you.”

Pete was getting very hard. It would be impossible not to, not with the way Vegas eagerly lapped at him, with the pleased noises Vegas was making. 

Vegas tried to swallow Pete down and let out a gagging sound. As he leaned back, he wiped the corner of his mouth and turned to stare up at Pete as he asked, “How are you so good at this? You make it look so easy.”

With a soft laugh, Pete bent down to kiss Vegas’s lips. He could taste himself there, and moaned. 

Planting a kiss on Vegas’s cheek, he stood and said, “I was made to be used by you, baby.”

Vegas let out a possessive growl, grabbing Pete’s ass to bring his cock close again. 

“Then let me use you.”

Pete’s mouth fell open as he gasped. When Vegas wrapped his lips around him again, Pete quickly tapped his cheek. “You don’t have to take me deep. Use your hand, too.”

Vegas hummed, his plush mouth stretched around Pete’s girth as his fingers wrapped around Pete’s base.

“Don’t worry about the mess,” Pete coached him. “The wetter, the better.”

Then, Vegas pulled off to spit in his hand before stroking Pete again. When Vegas rolled his tongue around his tip and then sucked on him, Pete thought his knees were going to give out. 

In a flurry of movement, Vegas fished his own cock out of his pants with his free hand to begin fondling himself. The fact that he really was that turned on from just blowing Pete made Pete feel light-headed. 

“I love the way you taste,” Vegas whispered, his hands pumping them both. “You’re all mine, Pete. This is mine.”

Pete nodded, unable to form words as Vegas gave him another lick. 

“Wanna leave marks on you,” Vegas murmured, reaching to pinch the inside of Pete’s thigh. 

With a soft cry, Pete’s dry orgasm rolled through him. 

Vegas was pouting, when Pete looked down at him. 

“I wanted to taste you.”

“Baby, the tank is empty.” With a grin, Pete cocked his head to the side so he could better see Vegas’s cock, hard in his hand. “Want to see if you have anything left to give?”

Vegas let out a delicious squeal as Pete lifted him to toss him into the middle of the bed, where he swallowed Vegas down until he, too, was completely empty. As Vegas worked to catch his breath, Pete licked and nipped at his partially exposed thighs, letting his teeth tug at the skin before leaving soothing kisses. 

“You really like my thighs.”

“Ever since I first saw them,” Pete mumbled. 

Vegas hummed, sounding like he was thinking. 

Propping himself up on his elbows, Vegas asked, “Why do you like them so much?”

Pete’s mouth went dry a little as he realized he couldn’t say. He couldn’t tell Vegas that he had been driving him crazy ever since Pete had had to stick a needle in that soft, pale thigh. 

“I like all of you,” Pete said finally, climbing up to capture Vegas’s mouth. 

Vegas moaned into the kiss, and Pete really wanted to continue, but he really needed a rest to recuperate. 

“Come on, baby,” Pete whispered, kissing Vegas sweetly once more. “We need to go pick up Nop.”

Vegas nodded seriously, then grinned, throwing his arms around Pete’s neck to hold him close a moment longer. 

“Promise to cuddle me when we get back?”

“For as long as you like.”

Chapter Text

Even though dark sunglasses covered Vegas’s eyes, Pete could tell that he was nervous about going to the city. Still, he was being brave about it. 

Vegas was clutching his seatbelt over his chest as he asked for the third time, “You’re certain I won’t have a reaction?”

Letting out a slow breath, Pete reached into his pocket to pull out Vegas’s injection. 

“I knew you might still be worried, so I got a dose of your medicine from Venice before we left.”

“You- But how did you-”

“I know the drill. Say hedgehog, out it pops. Why hedgehog?”

“They have spikes,” Vegas mumbled. “How did you know to do that?”

Pete swallowed, stuffing the medicine back into his pocket. “Uh, Macau programmed me, remember? I know the safety protocol for your medication.”

Then, Pete held his breath until Vegas leaned back in his seat, sounding much calmer as he said, “That makes sense. And I suppose the best place to test it out first is a hospital.”

“Exactly,” Pete agreed. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be there.”

Honestly, Pete figured he had to be even more anxious than Vegas. If he ran into Yaai, or Tay, the whole thing could be compromised. He knew the odds were slim, but still. 

Pete didn’t exactly have the option to decline, either. Vegas felt guilty about Nop getting injured, and Pete thought it was incredibly thoughtful of him to insist on picking Nop up from the hospital. And Vegas certainly didn’t seem to want to go anywhere without Pete. 

Not that Pete would have let him. 

Especially not after someone broke into the house to try and at least intimidate him. 

The pickup went smoothly, with Vegas holding tightly to Pete’s hand the entire time. He was jumpy with so many people around, sticking close, but Pete didn’t mind. He just walked slowly, letting Vegas look at everything he wanted to look at as they navigated the halls to the discharge desk. 

“Khun Vegas?” Nop called, sounding shocked. “Did I really hit my head that bad?”

Vegas frowned, a cute pout forming on his face. Pete wanted to bite him. 

“Nop, I’m so sorry. I wanted to come pick you up myself.”

“But,” Nop said, glancing between them. “How?”

“Pete,” Vegas answered, turning to give Pete a warm smile. “He showed me that I’m not allergic to people. It was in my head. I just have to keep remembering that.”

Nop looked on the verge of tears when they looked back at him. 

“That’s wonderful.”

“Are you feeling up to riding in the car?” Pete asked. “I’m driving, so just let me know if you start to feel nauseous.”

Back at the house, Vegas got started on dinner while Pete helped Nop settle into his apartment behind the house. 

“I think it’s incredible what you’ve done for him, Khun Pete.”

Pete smiled. “He’s the incredible one. He’s being so brave.” 

Nop got settled on his couch, and Pete reminded him that they were close by if he needed anything, and that they would be bringing him dinner as soon as it was ready. Nop nodded. 

“I’ll call if I need anything, but I am feeling much better. I’ll get back to work as soon as I can.”

Waving a hand, Pete said, “No rush. I can handle the trash and other things. And I think Vegas might quite enjoy doing his own grocery shopping.”

“You can make it a date,” Nop laughed, and Pete thought that was a brilliant idea. 

Later that week, once Vegas was starting to get on Nop’s nerves with how much he hovered, Pete suggested they leave the house for a while. 

“But-”

“Nop needs rest, Vegas. You’re not letting him rest.”

Vegas sighed, but nodded. “Fine.”

Grabbing the car keys, Pete patted Venice’s head, telling him to keep an eye on the house for them, and dragged Vegas to the car. 

Just as Pete expected, Vegas was thrilled by the grocery store. 

He could barely stop smiling as he watched Vegas rush from shelf to shelf, peering close to read the labels as he added item after item to the cart. 

“Are you having fun, baby?” Pete asked. 

Rushing back to his side, Vegas gave him a quick kiss. 

“So much. When I’m with you, everything is nicer.”

While they waited in the checkout line, Vegas wrapped Pete’s arms around his midsection so he could lean back against him. 

“Getting tired?”

“Mmm,” Vegas hummed. 

Pete could overhear the couple behind them talking about their weekend plans for dinner and a movie, and Vegas tilted his head to stare at him. Pete just grinned, waiting for Vegas to speak. 

Before he could, it was their turn, so they focused on loading up the conveyor as the older cashier harmlessly flirted with Pete. Pete just smiled politely. 

When they finished paying and putting everything in the car, Vegas closed the trunk and pinned Pete against it. 

“She was flirting with you.”

“I know,” Pete said, leaning more into Vegas’s space. “But it doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

Before Vegas could get upset, Pete cupped his face and kissed him, deeply. When he pulled away, Vegas’s eyes were only half-open. 

“I already belong to you, don’t I?”

That night, they sat cuddled together on the living room floor to watch a movie. Pete sat up against the couch, with Vegas between his legs, leaned back against him. Both of their chests were bare, so they could share bodyheat skin to skin. Pete was only half-watching the film. He had seen it before, and he was much more interested in carding his fingers through Vegas’s hair and kissing his neck. 

“I’m still so proud of you, Vegas. You’re being so brave, facing your fears and going out even though it can’t be easy. And you’re trying to be patient with everything else, I know.”

Vegas sighed, sinking even further back into Pete as he admitted, “It is hard. But I’m trying. Sometimes, it still feels like a dream. I never thought I’d be able to do things like grocery shop. I never thought I’d really go anywhere again. And I’m trying to be patient. I want answers, but I know Kinn is working on it.”

Pete nodded, pressing his nose just behind Vegas’s ear to give him a sniff. They had already had a bath together, and Pete had been aching to touch Vegas more. Just because he could, he dragged his hands over Vegas’s torso, loving the feel of him. 

“Pete?” Vegas called, reaching for Pete’s hand. 

“What is it, baby?”

“Touch me?”

Grinning, Pete reached into Vegas’s thin sweats to palm at his cock. He adored the way Vegas fit so perfectly in his palm as he stroked him, paying special attention to his tip. 

“Faster,” Vegas gasped, grasping the back of Pete’s neck with one hand while he teased his own nipple with the other. 

Pete mouthed at Vegas’s neck as he quickened the pace of his strokes. When he took Vegas’s earlobe between his teeth, Vegas let out a soft moan. Pete had to pause for a moment as Vegas twisted in his lap so he could kiss Pete, but as soon as he stilled again, Pete resumed his efforts to make Vegas come. 

Vegas only stopped making out with him when he was panting too hard, on the verge of coming undone. 

“Yeah,” he gasped, holding Pete close. “Right there… Like that…”

Pete hummed, loving that he knew exactly how Vegas liked to be touched. No one else knew him so intimately, and that knowledge was enough to get Pete hard. 

“Don’t stop-” 

Pete shook his head, then licked across Vegas’s bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. 

With a shudder, Vegas came with a weak cry. 

Pete wiped his hand off on the edge of the blanket they had thrown over themselves, making note to throw it in the wash in the morning. 

Before he could say anything, though, Vegas was shifting again, sliding his pants off so he could face Pete and crawl onto his lap. 

“I want more,” Vegas demanded, “I want you to fuck me.”

“We don’t have lube,” Pete reminded him. They had only fucked the one time without it, and Vegas hadn’t complained, but that had felt like a bit of an exception. 

Grinning, Vegas called Venice closer. 

“Lube,” Vegas requested, and Pete watched with wide eyes as a compartment opened and a small bottle of lube was ejected.

“Did you seriously just do that?” 

“Smart, right?” Turning to Venice, Vegas said, “Okay, Venice, you go on to bed. I’ll stay with Pete tonight.”

“Night, Boss,” Venice chirped. “Night, P’Pete!” With a whir of his wheels, they were alone again. 

“Now that we’re alone…” Vegas said, pulling Pete into another long kiss. 

Pete was at a loss for words as he stretched Vegas open. Vegas always accepted him so readily, and Pete couldn’t help but feel like they truly were made for one another. As he rubbed Vegas’s prostate again, Vegas whimpered, tucking his face into Pete’s neck. 

“Pet, I want your cock. Stop teasing me.”

Vegas’s hands scrambled to pull Pete out of his pants, and Pete used the lube on his hand to slick himself up as quickly as he could before Vegas was sinking down, taking what he wanted. 

Pete could only hold onto Vegas’s slender waist as Vegas began to ride him, nice and slow. Every few bounces, Vegas would sit and grind his hips in small circles. 

“Pete, I fucking love you so much.”

Pete nodded, licking his lips just before Vegas captured them again hungrily. 

“Do I make you feel good?” Vegas asked, leaning back to brace himself on his hands. He planted his feet beside Pete’s hips and began to move faster as he found the angle he wanted. 

The shift put all of Vegas on display for Pete, who drank in his fill of the sight. 

He loved that man so completely that Pete worried it was too much, too intense. He was on a high that he hoped he never came crashing down from. 

“Sometimes,” he admitted, “I feel like I’m simply going to unravel.”

Vegas shifted again, onto his knees so he could ride Pete faster. 

“I won’t let you unravel,” Vegas promised. “But if you do, I’ll tie my string to yours so we’ll unravel together. We’ll never be apart. You’re a part of me, Pete. And you’re mine.”

A whine escaped Pete’s throat. He wanted to always be tied to Vegas, no matter what.

Clenching his jaw, Vegas growled, “Say you love me.”

“I fucking love you,” Pete cried, his grip on Vegas’s hips tightening as he urged Vegas to move faster. Vegas’s cock was hard again, slapping back and forth between their stomachs as he bucked in Pete’s lap. 

“Don’t come yet,” Vegas hissed, gripping Pete’s shoulder. “I’m so close. Want you to come with me.”

Pete nodded, closing his eyes for a moment while he tried to concentrate. He just felt so good, but he wanted to be good for Vegas. He could hold out, if only for a few more seconds. 

“Fuck,” Vegas sobbed, his limbs going weak as he came, and dropped onto Pete’s cock as he clenched tightly around him. 

With a full-body spasm, Pete came. He reached for Vegas, clutching him close as they both wound down together. 

“Good boy,” Vegas whispered, shivering as he leaned back to brush Pete’s hair out of his face. It reminded Pete that it had been a little while since he had gotten it cut, and he didn’t want that to be what made Vegas suspicious. 

But then Vegas kissed him, soft and sweet, and Pete pushed that worry to the back of his mind. 

“Let me stay here for a minute,” Vegas said, clenching around Pete’s softening cock for a second as he wrapped his arms around Pete’s neck to rest against him. 

Pete sighed, closing his eyes again as he rubbed Vegas’s back and patted the back of his head.

When they finally got up on shaky legs to clean up and fall into Pete’s bed, Vegas said, “I want to go on a date with you, Pete. An official date.”

Pete’s heart swelled. “What should we do?”

Vegas hummed, tapping his lip with his finger. 

“Dinner at Yok’s, then I want to go to an art museum with you. I know I won’t be able to see much, but maybe I can ask them for a more private tour after hours. What’s the point of being a Theerapanyakul if you can’t get special privileges?”

Pete rolled his eyes, but he grinned. He was happy to see that Vegas could still be a brat, even with all the recent emotional upheavals he had been dealing with. 

“That sounds lovely,” Pete said, pulling Vegas in for a kiss. He would just have to place a call before their date to Porsche. 

Chapter Text

Vegas awoke with a loud gasp. 

“Baby?” Pete called. He was half-asleep, so his voice was a little rough as he asked, “Y’okay?”

Vegas rubbed at his bare chest as he tried to calm his breathing. He wasn’t having an allergic reaction. He was fine. Pete was there. 

“Yeah,” Vegas managed. “Sorry. Just had a nightmare.”

Pete mumbled something incoherent, his hand tugging loosely but insistently at Vegas until he snuggled close once more. 

As he let out a long sigh, feeling his heart rate still struggling to return to normal, Pete stroked his face slowly from temple to jaw. 

“Wanna talk about it?”

Vegas turned toward Pete, the fairy lights above the bed just barely illuminating his perfect face as they flickered.

“I dreamed that I was still allergic to people. That I lost you in a crowd, and everyone’s faces were blurred, and I was alone. I couldn’t breathe, and the people just kept getting closer and closer, until they smothered me. I yelled for you, but then everything went dark, too, so I don’t even know if you heard me.”

Pete rolled slightly to wrap more of himself around Vegas. They had gone to bed naked, at Vegas’s request, so he could feel miles of Pete’s bare skin against his. 

“That does sound scary. But it was just a bad dream. You’re safe. I didn’t leave you.”

Vegas nodded, closing his eyes. Listening to Pete’s calm voice helped lower his heart rate back to normal. Vegas wriggled until his face was pressed into Pete’s warm chest, where he could inhale his familiar scent. 

“Are you nervous about our date?”

“Maybe,” Vegas admitted. “But I still want to go. I hope you have fun.”

“I know I will,” Pete mumbled, already sounding like he was seconds away from dozing off again. “You’ll be there.”

Vegas grinned. Pete always knew just what to say to make his heart skip a beat. 

Once he was sure Pete was fully in sleep mode, Vegas shifted so he could see his face again. For several long minutes, he just stared at him, doing his best to memorize every detail. The next time Vegas yawned, he placed a gentle kiss to the tip of Pete’s upturned nose and whispered, “I love you,” before settling in to go back to sleep. 

When Saturday evening came, Pete and Vegas finished their cleaning and went to their respective rooms to get ready for their date. 

Vegas was worried about leaving Venice alone after the break-in, so he asked Nop to stay with him until they returned. Really he was worried about them both, and Venice could call for help if they needed it. Kinn couldn’t keep permanent security at the house, not that Vegas wanted a bunch of strangers milling about when there were so many windows. Who knew what position they might find him and Pete in. Nop was feeling much better, anyway, and he took it as an opportunity to see if there was any maintenance he could do on the house. 

After asking Venice and Nop how he looked, Vegas knocked on Pete’s door. 

“Ready, pet?”

Pete’s door opened, and Vegas stopped breathing. 

Pete had styled his bangs to frame his face. He was wearing a pale blue cashmere sweater and dark blue jeans. Around his neck, as always, sat his collar. 

“Pete,” Vegas choked out. “You, um, you look incredible.”

“Thank you,” Pete replied. “You look so pretty.”

Vegas felt himself blush as he glanced down. He had worn a black silk shirt with a white zodiac themed pattern and black jeans. Around his neck he wore a simple silver chain. 

“Ready?” Pete asked, reaching to grab a small crossbody bag from his desk. “And don’t worry, I’ve got your medicine, just in case.” Pete pulled the pen out of his bag enough to show Vegas. Smiling hard enough to show his dimple, Pete zipped the bag up securely and said, “I don’t want you to stress about anything tonight.”

Vegas’s chest felt tight, he was so overcome with emotion. Pete was so considerate and really cared about him. It was more than he ever thought he would ever get in his life. 

Exhaling sharply, Vegas lunged forward to cup Pete’s face and kiss him. 

“We’re going to have a great date,” Vegas promised, giving Pete a shy smile as he took his hand to drag him past Venice and Nop, who both told them to have fun and be safe. 

As Vegas stepped into Yok’s Noodle Bar with Pete half a step behind him, his shoulders slumped. It was not going to be a great date. 

He had called ahead to reserve the entire place, just so it would feel cozy and romantic, but two of the tables in the small place were occupied. 

Worse, the faces were familiar to him. 

Kinn, Porsche, Macau, and Chay all waved at them as Pete said, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting-”

“They aren’t supposed to be here,” Vegas grumbled under his breath. 

Pete’s hand found Vegas’s waist easily as he tugged him closer. 

“Relax, baby. We can think of it like a group date.”

Vegas didn’t want to go on a group date. He wanted to go on a private, romantic date alone with Pete. 

But when he turned to see Pete smiling, looking genuinely excited, he relaxed. 

“I guess we can go on a group date this time,” Vegas muttered. 

“Come on,” Pete said, taking his hand. “Let’s pick a table.”

Vegas made sure to pick one that was closer to Chay and Macau and deliberately farther away from Kinn and Porsche. It was no use, though, because Porsche immediately hopped up to get closer to them and Kinn, of course, followed. 

“Hia,” Macau said, “Let me formally introduce you to Chay, my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend was an upgrade. Vegas cocked a brow, but he smiled as he nodded at Chay. 

“Nice to officially meet you. I won’t hold the fact that Porsche is your brother against you.”

Chay laughed as Macau clucked, annoyed at his brother. 

“Thanks, P’Vegas. It’s nice to get to meet you in person.”

Vegas glanced back at Pete, quickly saying, “And this is Pete. My, uh, companion.”

“Hello, P’Pete,” Chay said cheerfully, giving Pete a small wave. 

“Hi, Chay.”

Vegas quickly hid behind his menu to avoid the awkwardness, even though he always ordered the same thing. Pete gently tapped his foot under the table, and Vegas immediately looked up at him. 

You okay? Pete mouthed, and Vegas wanted to kiss him again. 

“I’m good,” Vegas said quietly, leaning across the table as Pete also leaned forward. “Just nervous. I’ve never been on a date before, actually.”

“Well, I’m having fun,” Pete said, giving him a wink. With a contented sigh, Pete picked up the menu and mused, “What should I get?”

Yok came out a moment later, taking their order and getting them drinks. Vegas noticed she stared hard at Pete, but he couldn’t blame her. Pete was stunning. 

“And it’s so nice to finally see you,” Yok said to Vegas, patting his arm lightly. “Even if I lost one of my best delivery guys because of you."

Porsche coughed loudly, and Vegas turned to shoot him a look.

"Still," Yok continued, fixing a smile to her face when Vegas turned back to her. "You’re one of our best customers, although you haven’t ordered much lately.”

Vegas gave an awkward smile and said, “Sorry. And I’ve been a little busy.”

“What better time to order noodles?” Yok laughed. She left to take the other orders and Vegas was able to turn his attention back to Pete, sparing a moment to think about that mystery guy. 

“Is this okay?” Vegas asked nervously, once he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His palms were definitely sweating. 

With a warm, patient smile, Pete reached across the table and took his hand, ignoring the sweat, and gave him a comforting squeeze. 

“I’m okay as long as you’re okay. And I think it’s so great that you have so much support around you, Vegas. Everyone knows what a big deal it is that you’re out of the house, that you’re here, and they wanted to share in celebrating that. Plus, I think they’re also just worried about you because they care.”

Vegas’s mouth fell open as he took in Pete’s words. He glanced over at Porsche and Kinn to see Porsche taking pictures of their appetizers and smacking Kinn’s hand away when he tried to snatch something off the plate before he was done. Next, he glanced to their other side, where Macau and Chay were deep in conversation, grins on both of their faces as they leaned close. 

They weren’t there to crash his date with Pete. 

They were there just in case Vegas needed them. 

They had always been there, at least Macau and Kinn had. Kinn had been easier to push away, but he had never given up on Vegas. He had kept Vegas involved in the family business, had trusted him with tasks even when Vegas was certain his uncle hadn’t been pleased about it. Even Porsche, who was annoying, had been reminding Vegas that he wasn’t alone. 

Closing his mouth, Vegas swallowed as he turned back to look at Pete. Pete’s chin was resting in his hand, his elbow on the table as he just looked at Vegas with pride, with fervent devotion. 

Vegas felt like his feet had been knocked out from under him, and was glad he was sitting. 

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “I’m not alone. I have you, Macau, and Venice. But I also have Nop. I have Kinn and Porsche. Even Khun and Kim.”

Pete’s fingers tightened around his. 

“Exactly. You’re so loved, baby.”

Their dinner came out, but they kept holding hands as they ate, talking in low tones about anything and everything they wanted to talk about. 

Vegas thought Yok’s noodles had never tasted better. 

Vegas was less irritated when the others followed them to the art museum after dinner. After all, Vegas had called Kinn to ask him for a favor, hoping he could pull some strings with the place. Kinn had managed to have the place closed a little early so they could have a private viewing. 

“Watch your step,” Pete said, his hand wrapping around Vegas’s waist protectively as he helped him not to trip over a curb in the dark. 

Weeks before, he would have hated the idea of someone doing that, but when Pete helped him, Vegas felt loved. He didn’t infantilize Vegas, but he did step in and help Vegas when he needed it without making him feel weak. He knew it was what Pete was programmed to do, but it seemed so natural. 

Inside the museum, their footsteps echoed in the large, empty space. 

Macau and Chay chattered excitedly as they headed off in one direction, and Kinn and Porsche bickered as they went in another. That left Pete and Vegas to go wherever they wanted. 

They strolled aimlessly for a while, with Vegas getting as close as he could to see what he could. Whichever pieces he stopped at, Pete read the card about them aloud and even offered tidbits he seemed to pull out of thin air. 

With a smirk, Vegas teased, “So, you can’t speak French or solve Calculus problems, but you know about art?”

“I’ve learned some things,” Pete replied, sounding a little offended. “You do have a large library, you know.”

They entered a room full of Neoclassical sculptures, and drifted slightly apart as they looked at everything. After several minutes, Vegas joined Pete beside the statue he had been lingering over. 

“Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss,” Vegas read, squinting at the label. “You like this one?”

Pete nodded with a small sound. “It’s beautiful, the detail of the fabric contrasting with their skin.” Glancing around, Pete said, “Here, come closer to see the detail.”

Vegas worried an alarm would go off, even if it was a replica and not the original statue, but nothing happened when he squeezed in close to examine the statue. 

He stood back, closing his eyes as he said, "Tell me about it. What do you see?"

Pete's voice was low as he said, "I see two lovers, reunited at long last when not even death can divide them. The tender way he embraces her, the way she's reaching for him as they gaze at each other, moments away from a kiss. It's so romantic."

“It is,” Vegas said, opening his eyes again.

Pete hummed, leaning in close to examine the detail. 

“I’ve always found Eros and Psyche fascinating.”

Vegas blinked. “What do you like about them?”

Pete sighed, turning his head as he walked around the piece. “They remind us that love is about more than appearance or vanity. It’s not about power or fear. Psyche let other people get into her head, they made her doubt her love with Eros, but Eros also deceived her. He didn’t fully share himself, and it almost ruined everything. But she didn’t give up on him. She decided to trust in that love, to fight for it, and they emerged on equal footing. They didn't let anything come between their love.”

“You can’t have true love if you don’t have trust,” Vegas said, familiar with the tale, and Pete’s eyes met his in a flash. 

“Right,” Pete agreed. “Trust is vital. Trust, and honesty.”

Pete was more subdued after that, but Vegas knew it was late, and Pete was due for a long charging session the next day. 

They collected the others, thanked the museum staff, and made their way out into the night. 

After giving Macau a hug and promising to see him again soon, they got in their car and drove home. 

“About earlier,” Vegas muttered in the quiet car. “I didn’t know what to say.” It had been bothering him all night, but he still felt a little strange about bringing it up. 

“When?” Pete asked, turning onto the long driveway. 

“When I was introducing you to Chay. I called you my companion, but really I wasn’t sure what to say. Chay knows you’re an android, like the others, and I’m not bothered by that in the least, but we’ve never really talked about what we are to each other.”

Pete gave a smile, but it felt stretched thin as he said, “I’m your pet.”

“Yes,” Vegas said seriously. “You’re mine. But I feel like it’s more complicated than that. I love you, Pete. I don’t care what other people say about me if they find out you’re not human, but how can I possibly define what you are to me with a simple word like boyfriend or partner?”

Pete pulled up to the gate, rolling the window down to punch the code in so they could pull into the garage. 

Cutting the engine, Pete sighed. “Why is it important?”

“Because,” Vegas insisted. “It’s like Eros and Psyche. He was a god. They were from different worlds. But their love made them equals.”

Vegas sighed, feeling frustrated with himself for failing to find the words he wanted. 

“It’s… I know I’m just a human and you’re an amazing technological advancement, but together we’re… We’re more. You have advanced so fast and so much farther than we expected, and you have developed feelings for me. And I’m so in love with you, Pete. I know I say you’re my pet, but I want you to feel like we’re equals in this. I want to get to know you, like I did tonight, the way that you’ve been getting to know me.”

Pete had been staring out the windshield at nothing while Vegas spoke, but once he paused, Pete turned to look at him. 

“It’s trust, Pete. I trust you, with my very life. I trust in our love.”

Pete let out a slow breath, then gave a lop-sided smile. 

“I love you, Vegas, and I enjoyed our date. Thank you. Now, do you want a bath before bed?”

Vegas felt strange, but it had been a long night. 

“Can I sleep with you again after we shower together? You’re leaving tomorrow to charge most of the day.”

“Whatever you want, baby,” Pete said, his smile softening in a way that eased the tension that had been building in Vegas. “I’m here to make you happy.”

Chapter Text

Pete’s hands itched. 

At first, it was a slightly annoying tingle on his palms. Soon enough, it had developed into an itch that he couldn’t ignore. The only thing that helped seemed to be holding Vegas. 

Holding Vegas came with a different problem, though. 

Holding Vegas reminded Pete that a day would come soon where he could no longer hold Vegas. A day would come where that thing would be holding Vegas instead. 

It wouldn’t even appreciate how warm he was, how soft he was. It wouldn’t prefer his scent to literally any other. Its mechanical heart wouldn’t race when Vegas smiled. 

Undeserved, it would have Vegas, and Pete would be left with nothing. 

“Vegas?” Pete called, his palms itching. 

Vegas looked up from his laptop, a smile dancing over his face that made Pete’s breath catch. They had been snuggling on the couch that morning when Kinn asked Vegas to look over something for their next meeting, and Vegas had disappeared into his office while Pete busied himself with chores. But he was done with chores and feeling needy. 

“What is it, pet? Am I neglecting you?”

Yes. 

“I’m leaving in a few hours.”

I’m counting down the hours I have left with you.

Closing his laptop with a sharp click, Vegas said, “Then work can wait.”

Pete’s insides felt molten as Vegas dragged Pete to his room. 

“Come on, pet,” Vegas said sweetly, patting the space beside him on the bed for Pete to join him. “Let’s have a nap before you go.”

Pete loved having sex with Vegas. It drove him mad, how much he craved Vegas, his desire only increasing exponentially each and every day. 

But Pete adored these moments just as much, if not possibly more, when Vegas was soft with him. Vegas wanted not just his body, but he wanted his closeness. 

With a sigh, Pete let himself be wrapped in Vegas’s embrace. 

“You seem a little off lately,” Vegas said, carding his fingers through Pete’s hair. 

“Must just be low battery,” Pete replied, the words killing him just a little more as he perpetuated the lie. 

“Must be,” Vegas agreed, bending to press a kiss to Pete’s forehead. “Just rest. Let me hold you.”

With a nod, Pete rolled closer. He let himself be small for a time, let Vegas look after him. Pete drifted off as Vegas hummed a lullaby, his hand patting a steady beat against Pete’s back.

Hours later, whispered voices pulled him gently from sleep. 

“Arm said he would focus on extending his battery life. I worry about him.”

“Yeah, Hia, but you also keep him pretty active, and don’t try to deny it. We’re working on it. But make sure you take good care of him. P’Pete’s one of a kind.”

“I know he is,” Vegas huffed, his voice getting a little louder as he moved closer to kiss Pete’s head. “And I always want to spoil him.”

“I can see that,” Macau acknowledged. 

Macau. 

Macau was in his room. 

Pete shifted, alerting them that he was awake. 

“Sorry,” Pete mumbled, sitting up as he swiped a hand over his face. “I didn’t mean to sleep so much.”

Vegas sat up with him, brushing Pete’s hair aside to kiss his temple. 

“It’s alright, love. Cau and Porsche just got here.”

Gazing over sheepishly, Pete saw Macau give a little wave. 

While the brothers kept talking, Pete slipped into the bathroom to freshen up a little. It made him happy to be able to see Vegas talking to Macau without a biohazard suit between them.

The three of them left Pete’s room to find Porsche staring curiously at Venice. 

“Is something wrong with him?” Pete asked, rushing over to kneel beside them.

“No,” Porsche said. “He’s just really cool. I was wondering if Chay might want one.”

Pete breathed a sigh of relief, stroking a hand over Venice’s mechanical body affectionately. 

“Venice is very cool,” Pete said with a smile before addressing the bot directly. “I’m going out for a few hours. Can you keep an eye on Vegas and the house for me?”

“Aye, aye, P’Pete!” Venice said with a full spin. “I’ll keep Boss company until you get home.”

“I’m staying, too,” Macau announced. “I figured this would be a good time to catch up with Hia.”

That settled, Pete stood to put his shoes on. 

“Aren’t you going to change?” Porsche asked. 

Pete glanced down at his loose cotton shirt and joggers. Yaai certainly wouldn’t mind him dressed comfortably. His shirt also smelled like Vegas.

Leaning close, Porsche whispered, “Go put on something nice for Yaai. She brags about you to the other patients.”

“Fine,” Pete huffed, if only because it gave him a few more minutes in Vegas’s presence. Pete emerged from his room dressed nice enough for Porsche’s approval, and with one more kiss where he snuck his hand under Vegas’s shirt to caress his soft skin, he left Vegas in Macau’s capable hands. At least he could breathe easier knowing that Vegas wouldn’t be alone. 

Porsche was chatty on the way to the hospital, which was normal, but he seemed oddly focused on the night before. 

“Pete, you should get out there and date again. I mean, last night was fun, right? You should do that for real.”

Pete frowned, scrolling through his phone as he half-listened to his friend. He wanted to argue that last night had been a real date, at least to him, but Porsche clearly didn’t want to hear that. 

“You know Vegas has all of my attention.”

“For now. But PET3 should be fully repaired soon. You should start thinking about yourself.”

To get him off the topic, Pete asked how things were going with Kinn. Porsche complained affectionately the rest of the drive, letting Pete think about how much he already missed Vegas. 

Yaai was excited to see him, and Pete slipped into his other self so he could focus on her. 

“How’s the job?”

“Intense,” Pete replied truthfully. “But amazing.”

“That’s great, Doodle! You know I’m always proud of you.”

Pete swallowed the bile rising in his throat as he tried not to wonder if she would still be proud of him lying to an innocent man. 

“Pete’s always been a great worker,” Porsche interjected. “Kinn’s even started talking about making him permanent.”

Pete’s head snapped up to stare at Porsche. His heart was torn. Staying beside Vegas would be a dream come true, but Pete didn’t know how much longer he could keep up the ruse. Maybe, if he was able to explain his reasons to Vegas, they would have enough time to work things out. 

“Yeah,” Porsche continued. “I showed Kinn Pete’s portfolio and resumé, and he contacted some people he had done some freelance work for after school, and they all praised him. Don’t be surprised if he asks you to be his creative director one day, Pete.”

Immediately, Pete’s mood plummeted. Being a creative director would be a fantastic opportunity, but he hadn’t even been thinking of his career. He could only think about Vegas. Could he give Vegas up, if it meant securing such a position? Pete couldn’t imagine making that choice willingly, but he supposed he needed to start thinking about his future. 

After all, Porsche kept reminding him that he wouldn’t have a future with Vegas. He had just been saying that PET3 would be repaired any day now. Why would they keep Pete around, running a higher risk that Vegas would eventually figure it all out, unless they meant to ensure that they were kept apart? Would they use the promise of a lucrative career to make sure Vegas and Pete never interacted over work, or ever again?

Pete ended his visit just a little early, with Porsche insisting they head out to grab dinner. 

Pete would rather eat with Vegas and Macau, but he worried Vegas would stress if he came home too early and wasn’t ‘properly charged’. 

Porsche picked the restaurant, saying it was his treat, and a hostess led them to a private table in the back. 

“I’ll just hit the restroom,” Porsche said, and Pete dismissed him with a nod, pulling his phone out to continue going through his email inbox in case there were any job offers or people getting back to him about interviews. 

It had just occurred to him that Porsche was taking a while when he looked up to see a familiar face. 

Rather than his usual scrubs, Tay was dressed up in a satin shirt and leather pants. He wore a little shimmer on his eyes and lips. 

“Oh,” Pete said, putting his phone down with a polite smile. “I almost didn’t recognize you without that harsh, hospital lighting. Are you on a date? You look nice.”

“Thank you,” Tay said, an odd look on his face. “I am, actually.”

Pete watched as Tay took the seat across from him, and it all clicked into place. 

“But judging from the look on your face, Porsche didn’t tell you that you were on a date.”

Pete shut his eyes for a moment, cursing Porsche violently in his head. 

“I’m sorry,” Pete muttered, rubbing his forehead to ease the beginnings of a tension headache. “Now I know why he insisted on treating me.”

To his surprise, Tay let out a laugh. 

“Since he’s paying, we might as well both enjoy ourselves.”

Shifting in his seat uncomfortably, Pete glanced around for any sign of Porsche. He wanted to throttle him. 

“Look, Tay, I think you’re really nice, but I’m not looking to date. I already… It’s complicated.”

Tay nodded seriously, picking up his menu to peruse the choices casually. 

“I think you’re really nice, too, Pete. But can I ask you something?”

Pete shrugged for him to continue, figuring the situation couldn’t get much worse.

“Does Porsche not know that you have a dom? I mean, I’m assuming that’s who gave you that lovely collar.”

Pete’s mouth went dry as his hand reflexively touched the charm inside the o-ring. 

“How did you-”

“You see all sorts, as a nurse,” Tay remarked, waving a hand in front of himself. “No judgment. If anything, I was judging you for wearing it to a date with someone else. My ex was a horrible cheater and I’m not trying to relive that drama.”

Pete grimaced, relaxing a little at Tay’s lack of reaction to their predicament. 

“Sorry to hear that. I’m not a fan of cheating, either, which is why this isn’t a date.”

“So, does that mean your dom is also your romantic partner? That’s nice.”

Pete swallowed a sip of water and tried to find an answer. He wasn’t supposed to talk about Vegas, but as far as he was concerned, he still very much belonged to the man. 

“Like I said, it’s complicated.”

Tay nodded thoughtfully, then gestured for the server. 

“This isn’t a date,” Tay clarified, “But it sounds like we could use some wine.”

Since the air was cleared, with Pete saying once more unnecessarily that it was very much not a date, Pete tried to just enjoy his dinner, ordering the most expensive things he could eat. Tay was easy to talk with, and Pete appreciated that he made no attempts at flirting, even after he had had a few glasses of wine. 

Pete stuck to water, letting Tay drink for them both. He didn’t want to be intoxicated or smell like booze when he got back to Vegas. 

At the end of the meal, the server returned to tell them that the check had been taken care of. 

“Well,” Tay said as they stepped out into the night. “I know you didn’t agree to this, but thank you for the company. I hope your complicated situation gets a little less complicated, but give me a call if it doesn’t work out. Until then, friends?”

“I could use a friend,” Pete muttered, taking Tay’s offered hand for a shake. “Especially since Porsche is unfortunately getting cremated very soon.”

With a laugh and a wave, Tay hopped into the next taxi and left. 

The anger that Pete had been holding back all throughout dinner returned as soon as he spotted Porsche waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn’t want to see him, but he wanted to hurry back to Vegas, so he got in the car. 

Slamming his car door, Pete snapped, “You’re a fucking asshole, Porsche.”

With his hands hovering above the steering wheel defensively, Porsche sighed. 

“I’m sorry I lied, but I knew you wouldn’t agree to the date otherwise.”

“Hmm,” Pete retorted sarcastically. His voice only got louder as he said, “I wonder fucking why? Maybe because I already-”

“You can’t have him, Pete!” Porsche shouted over him, all attempts at levity gone from his voice. “You can’t. And the sooner you realize that it’s not going to happen for you, the better.”

Pete’s fury drained into something sharper but more subtle as he leaned back against his seat. He could hear Porsche breathing heavily, and suddenly it all made sense to Pete. 

“I thought maybe you were over this,” Pete said dryly. “But I forgot you’re the real protagonist. No one can even come close to that pedestal. Only you deserve a happy ending, because no one has suffered as much as you.”

“Pete-”

“No,” Pete interrupted, a shrill laugh bubbling out of him. “It’s making sense now. You expect me to settle for someone nearby like Tay, because I’m just your sidekick. You get a rich, handsome, successful boyfriend, but I’m allowed to date his friend, right? Well, news flash: I’m not with Vegas to try and compete with you. It's not for his money, or even his looks. Give me a fucking break. I would say you’ve changed, but you’ve always been this fucking selfish.”

“Hey,” Porsche snapped. “Don’t call me selfish. You know how hard I worked to raise Chay when-”

“When your mommy and daddy died. I know! But you’re not the only one with a dead parent. And–again, not that it’s a competition–but at least your parents loved you. At least your dad tucked you in at night. At least your mom fed you and held you close. Your mae never chose liquor over you. Your pa never gave you a fucking concussion for crying too loudly when you were fucking hungry.”

Angry tears ran down Pete’s face, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at Porsche. That didn’t mean Porsche stopped talking, though. 

“I get that your childhood sucked, but you’re being fucking crazy, Pete. I just wanted you to go on a date with Tay because I’m your friend and he’s nice. And I needed to remind you that real life still exists. You can’t have Vegas. You can’t stay with him, and it’s not because I’m jealous. He can’t know that you lied to him, Pete. He can never know, or it’ll ruin everything. If you break that trust, he’ll never trust anyone ever again.”

Porsche heaved a sigh as he started the engine. 

“Look, maybe this has already gone too far. PET3 should be ready soon. Maybe we should just pull you out a little early. Get you back to the real world.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Pete hissed. As much as he would never admit it, Porsche was right about one thing. He could never tell Vegas the truth. 

“Don’t take away the little time I have left, Porsche. Just take me home.”

They didn’t speak the remainder of the drive. When they stopped by the door, Pete made sure there were no more tears on his face. 

Without a word, he stapled on his android mask and stepped inside. 

Macau and Vegas were leaning against one another on the sofa, looking so peaceful in their sleep that Pete didn’t want to disturb them yet. Patting Venice, Pete disappeared into his room to shower. He needed to wash off the bitterness he was carrying in his heart before he touched Vegas again. 

For a full minute, he just stared at his reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing himself. 

He no longer knew who he was without Vegas. 

Dressed only in boxers and a shirt, Pete went back to collect Vegas for bed. 

“Pete?” Vegas murmured as Pete began to lift him gently into the air. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better now,” Pete responded calmly. “Want me to take you to bed, baby?”

Vegas nodded, his hold tightening as he pressed his face into Pete’s neck. 

“Your bed.”

“Okay.”

Venice beeped, waking Macau so he could follow the bot to Vegas’s room. 

Vegas stripped Pete’s shirt off of him as soon as they got into bed, then removed his own clothes. 

Under the sheets, with Vegas’s body pressed against his, Pete felt like he could finally breathe again. 

Chapter Text

Pete managed to make it through almost the entire week in a happy daze. Vegas was spoiling him with attention and affection, and Pete was showering him with love right back. 

Macau came over to visit almost every day, but not enough that it would explain to Pete why he and Vegas hadn’t had sex in nearly a week. 

Was Vegas getting bored of him physically?

He loved the sweetness, the intimacy they still shared, but Pete also wanted more. 

He was about to leave for his Friday night session at the lab when he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No?” Vegas replied, tilting his head to the side. He had been painting an abstract in the library while Pete read to him, but at Pete’s frustrated look, Vegas put his brush down and moved to climb into Pete’s lap in the plush chair he reclined in. Taking the book from him to set it aside, Vegas leaned close to meet Pete’s gaze as he asked, “Talk to me? What are you feeling, pet?”

With a sigh, Pete tried to look away. He was starting to feel ridiculous for overreacting. 

“Pete,” Vegas chastised, making him look at him again. 

“You haven’t had sex with me in days,” Pete said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could think too much about it. 

Then, to his horror, Vegas flashed him a smirk. 

Getting serious again, Vegas asked, “Are you feeling insecure?”

Pete rolled his eyes. He knew his face and ears were turning red, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“Use your words, pet, so I can fix it.”

After a few deep breaths while Vegas stroked his cheeks with his thumbs, Pete said, “I love you. I love cuddling, and naps, and kissing.”

“Same.”

“But you’ve barely touched me.”

“We jerked each other off in the shower, and then you enthusiastically ate me out right after. You made me come so hard, like such a good boy, and that was only two days ago.”

“Exactly,” Pete whined. “Two days ago. And I feel like that hardly counts.”

Vegas actually laughed at that, and Pete scowled, completely dejected. 

“You think I don’t want you anymore?” Vegas asked, his expression solemn. 

With a pout, Pete nodded once. 

Vegas let out a soft sound as he pressed forward to drag his tongue over Pete’s lewdly. 

“That couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Vegas assured him as he rocked back in Pete’s lap. “I’ve been losing my mind watching you move around the house, teasing me.”

Furrowing his brow, Pete said, “Then, why?”

“Because I’m worried about you.”

Pete just listened as Vegas ran his fingertip over Pete’s nose, over his brow, over his lips. 

“You’ve seemed a bit distracted, pet. A little…less energetic. Cau pointed out quite rudely that I do keep you quite active, and especially with you using so much processing for all these emotions you’re learning, I worried I was overheating your battery.”

His reasoning was so sweet and considerate that it chased away any doubts that Pete had been holding. He dragged his fingers over Vegas’s waist to pull him into a hug. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“I just want to take good care of you, Pete. I intend to keep you for the rest of my life.”

Pete closed his eyes tightly, pushing away the sick feeling clawing at him. Vegas wanted a lifetime. Pete only got weeks. 

“I love you,” Pete whispered. 

“I love you. Sorry I made you feel unwanted in any way.”

Vegas kissed Pete’s neck, wriggling in his lap a little as he proposed, “Why don’t you let me use you, the way only I can, after you charge tonight? I’ve missed feeling you stretch me open, pet.”

Pete whined, his hips thrusting a little under Vegas’s weight. 

“Yeah?” Vegas purred, “Is my good boy gonna fuck me until I can’t come anymore?”

Pete’s whine turned slightly feral as he reached for Vegas’s cock, but Vegas held his wrist to stop him. 

“It’s almost time for you to go. Let’s wait until you get back. That’s your punishment for doubting that I always want you.”

Pete wanted to complain. He wanted to throw a tantrum. But he could be good for Vegas. It was only a short trip to the lab, then they would have all weekend together. 

To his dismay, Vegas clambered off of his lap after only a quick peck to his lips. 

“Maybe that’s not enough,” Vegas said, a mean undercurrent to his words. “Maybe I should tie you up and make you watch how hard you make me, again and again. Maybe I should fuck that pretty mouth of yours until you understand how crazy you make me, pet. And I won’t let you move, so you can save your battery. Win-win.”

Pete felt half-melted into a puddle on the floor with Vegas’s teasing. He didn’t have a battery, but he certainly felt like he was overheating, just talking about it. 

“Vegas-”

“Come on, Pete. Go get properly charged like the good boy you are.”

Pete was in a daze for the entire ride to the lab. It took Pol three times to get his attention when he parked the van. 

“I just can’t believe our luck,” Pol said, leading Pete inside. “I mean, it’s great news, right?”

“Huh? Yeah,” Pete mumbled, forcing a smile. 

“Did you tell him?” Arm asked, turning to greet Pete and Pol. 

“Yeah. So lucky.”

They rushed off to PET3’s side as Pete took a seat beside Macau, who was looking at him guiltily.

“What’s happening?”

“Phi,” Macau began, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “PET3’s part arrived early. We should be able to fix him sooner than expected.”

The earth might as well have opened up and swallowed him whole. 

Pete barely knew what he was saying as he smiled.

“Well, that’s great, right? You guys can fix PET3, and then Vegas won’t need me anymore.”

“P’Pete,” Macau began, but Pete brushed him off. 

“Don’t let me distract you from your work. I’m gonna go take a break in my room. Come get me when it’s time to leave.”

Ignoring Macau’s protests, Pete shut himself in his small room at the lab and sank against the door as he tried to remember how to breathe. 

*****

Each and every day, Pete surprised Vegas more and more. More often than not, he had to remind himself that Pete was still an android. Unlike Pinocchio, Pete wouldn’t magically turn into a real boy, but the line was so blurred that it hardly seemed to matter. Vegas had already decided that Pete had his whole heart, whatever he was, so there was no use worrying about it. 

Still, the leaps and bounds of emotional advancement blew him away. Pete cared for him, Pete loved him. Pete even got jealous over him. He hadn’t meant to make Pete feel insecure, though. Vegas hated the idea of Pete in distress, his system probably turning the problem over again and again as he tried to find an answer. 

Vegas would do better, so less of Pete’s processing power went to such things. 

Vegas lay sprawled on the living room floor with Venice sitting beside him. 

“Ven?”

The bot chirped, rolling a little closer. 

“Do you think Pete might have a full-blown existential crisis at this rate?”

“P’Pete just loves Boss. P’Pete saved him. Boss will make him happy.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Vegas drawled. “I’m trying.” 

With a heavy exhale, Vegas tried to be patient while he waited for Pete to return. 

To return, and then to completely wreck him. 

After all, Vegas hungered for Pete, too. 

Venice’s screen lit up as a call came through. When Vegas sat up and saw it was Kinn, he instructed Venice to accept the video call. 

“Sorry for calling so late,” Kinn said. “Is this a bad time?”

“No,” Vegas sighed. “I’m waiting for Pete to get home.”

“Ah, right,” Kinn muttered, then cleared his throat. “How is he?”

Vegas’s spine straightened as he furrowed his brow. “He’s been acting a little off lately, but he’s fine. I’m taking care of him.”

“I wasn’t suggesting otherwise. I was just being polite. I know he’s important to you.”

“He’s everything to me.”

“Which is why I asked,” Kinn said, a light trace of a smile lightening his usually serious face. “He’s very important to you. And you’re important to me, so that makes him important to me, too.”

Vegas relaxed, feeling uncomfortable for a different reason. “You mean that? It’s not just because you spent a ridiculous amount of money and he’s an investment for the company?”

Kinn chuckled, “Oh, you have no idea how much he cost me, but it’s worth every Baht.”

“He’s priceless to me.” Vegas glanced toward the door, willing Pete to hurry home while knowing he needed to be patient. 

“I was calling because Kim might have found something.”

Vegas’s attention snapped back to the screen. “He did?”

“I think so. We’re meeting up tomorrow to go over it. Do you want us to come over?”

“Yes,” Vegas breathed, his eyes losing focus completely. 

Kinn poured himself a drink and leaned back in his chair, taking a sip.

“Even if it’s not what you hope?”

“Mae is gone, either way,” Vegas said. “I just need to know if she was there, and I didn’t see her. I need to know for my own peace of mind.”

“I understand.”

Vegas wanted to bite back that he didn’t, that he couldn’t, but Kinn had been trying to mend their relationship and Vegas didn’t want to send them back in the other direction again. 

“I’ll call you when we’re on the way.”

With that, they ended the call, and Vegas got up to walk off some of his nervous energy. 

His pacing just led him to Pete’s room, where he sat on the bed just to stare around at Pete’s meager belongings. Vegas had gotten him a stuffed hedgehog when they had gone to the mall, which Pete sat in his desk chair when he wasn’t using it. From the way he held it, though, Vegas was certain he liked it. 

The plants were doing well, still. Vegas had caught Pete talking to them cutely multiple times. 

Falling back on the bed, Vegas rolled to sniff the blanket. It smelled mostly like their detergent, so Vegas shifted more to press his face into Pete’s pillow. 

The two of them had taken to sharing a bed at night, more often than not. Vegas loved it. He had still tried to give Pete some space, since he knew Pete would not ask for it, but he had gotten to a point where it was harder to sleep without Pete. 

He wanted Pete. 

He had been behaving, so as not to wear Pete out too quickly, but he was at his breaking point. Pete was getting insecure about the way Vegas felt about him, so Vegas planned to make it up to him as soon as he got back. 

Everything else could wait until tomorrow. 

“Venice?” Vegas called. The bot had rolled into the room with him, so it wasn’t a second before he got a response. “You can go to bed.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Venice said, before he rolled away to go to Vegas’s room. 

Pete would be home soon, so Vegas stripped his clothes off, setting them in the hamper and out of the way so he could crawl back onto Pete’s bed, pausing to fetch some lube out of the nightstand. With his face pressed close to Pete’s pillow, Vegas began to finger himself. He wanted to get himself ready for Pete, so Pete could sink right in where he belonged. He wanted Pete to fuck him until he was delirious, and then stay inside while he slept. 

Vegas whimpered, his fingers not nearly as wonderful as Pete’s, but they would have to do. 

He was panting quietly when the door opened. 

“Vegas?” Pete called, sounding raw. 

Twisting his head around so he could face the door, Vegas moaned as he thrust two fingers into himself. 

“I’ve been waiting for you, pet. Got myself ready for you.”

“Oh, fuck,” Pete whispered, crossing the room in long strides as he was already shedding his clothes. 

Shakily, Vegas got himself up so he could kiss Pete hungrily. Pete kissed him back like he meant to devour Vegas whole, and it sent an electric current up his spine. 

“Have I been good?” Pete asked when he pulled away. His eyes looked dark and wet as he begged, “Tell me I’m good, tell me you won’t throw me away.”

Vegas’s heart clenched as he nodded, then shook his head. 

Cupping Pete’s face, he firmly told him, “Never. I’ll never let you go, pet. You’re such a good boy for me. The best.”

Pete made a choked sound as he captured Vegas’s mouth again. 

“You love me?” Vegas asked, even though he very much knew the answer. 

He watched as Pete closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. 

“So much. So much, my body can’t contain the feeling.”

Vegas could only nod, understanding what he meant perfectly. It was like his love for Pete was bursting from every cell in his body. It was a force field that extended past his reach. 

He had been planning on teasing Pete, but it didn’t seem like either of them could bear waiting any longer. 

“Fuck me,” Vegas whispered against Pete’s mouth. “Smother me, pet. Let the feeling spill out. Fill me.”

He ran a hand down Pete’s torso, finding his cock already upright and leaking. 

“Make me feel you.”

Pete whimpered, and Vegas pulled Pete along with him as he lay on his stomach, pressing his face into Pete’s pillow again. 

He expected Pete to just thrust right in, but Pete shifted on the bed, getting farther away. Vegas was about to lift his head to see what he was doing when he felt Pete press a kiss to his ankle. 

“You’re so perfect,” Pete mumbled, kissing further up his calf. “I’m so lucky they let me have you.”

Pete switched legs, nipping up his thigh, and Vegas spread his legs just a little with a moan. 

He couldn’t move far, because Pete was straddling him, but that was fine. He wanted Pete to completely cover him. 

Pete laved his tongue over Vegas’s ass cheek as he worked two fingers into him. 

“You did so good,” Pete said, kissing along his spine. “Got yourself so wet for me.”

“I want you,” Vegas pleaded, and finally Pete pressed into him. With the position, Vegas felt so full. Pete rocked his hips, his skin dragging over Vegas’s deliciously. Vegas could feel Pete’s hot breath ghosting along his back as Pete rested more of his weight on him. 

It felt incredible, being so surrounded by Pete. 

So safe.

Vegas’s cock was aching, trapped beneath their weight as Pete set a slow, grinding pace. 

“Pete,” Vegas gasped, “Pet, I-”

Pete kissed his jaw. 

“Say you’re mine, baby.”

Vegas’s heart was hammering in his chest. He loved when Pete got possessive over him. 

“I’m yours, Pete. All yours.”

“Say I’ll always be yours. No matter what.”

Vegas shut his eyes, the sensations overwhelming. 

“Always. Only yours.”

Pete kissed his neck with a hum, his hand slithering under Vegas to stroke his cock. It was more of a grind against him, but it was all Vegas needed to reach the peak. 

“Pete,” he cried, coming as he clenched around Pete. 

Pete’s hips snapped forward a few more times, and on Vegas’s command, he came, filling him up. 

Vegas was sweaty as Pete collapsed onto his back heavily, but he didn’t want him to move. Pete’s weight felt grounding as Vegas worked to catch his breath. 

He kept his eyes closed as Pete ran his fingers through his hair, sprinkling kisses onto his neck, face, and back. 

“I love you,” Pete said. 

Vegas nodded. “Love you. Can we sleep like this?”

A puff of air hit him as Pete shifted a little. “Yeah. Let me just get off of you.”

“No. I like it.”

“Okay.” Pete settled again, giving Vegas one last kiss as he wrapped his arms around him. 

Pete was still acting strange, but Vegas would do whatever it took to keep looking after him. No matter what it was, they would sort it out together. 

Chapter Text

Vegas felt Pete’s gaze on him, hot, all morning. They had woken up still tangled together, and Vegas had climbed on top of Pete, to ride him. Their intertwined hands braced in the air between them as they panted and moaned in tandem, words unnecessary between them as they basked in their love. 

After they both came, Vegas kissed Pete until they needed to get up and get clean. They showered quickly, then lounged in the bath until the water began to get cold. 

Not wanting to leave Pete’s side, Vegas dressed them both in some of Pete’s casual clothes so they could walk out to the kitchen. 

“What can I help with?” Pete asked, sounding a little tired. 

“Sit, pet,” Vegas commanded softly, pulling out a chair for Pete. When Pete accepted the seat with a sigh, Vegas pressed a lingering kiss to his temple, brushing his hair aside. “Let me make us some breakfast.”

Vegas could feel Pete’s eyes on him with every step he took. Rather than feeling scrutinized, Vegas felt adored. He felt proud as he was able to make a nice breakfast for the one he loved. For all that Pete did for him, Vegas hoped he could at least give him a fraction of that back. 

Venice wheeled himself out to join them, and they had breakfast slowly while Venice caught them up on the news. 

After they ate, Pete insisted on cleaning up, so Vegas clung to Pete’s back, just breathing him in as Pete scrubbed the dishes. 

A loud knock at the door eventually drew them out of their somnolent sanctuary, and Pete’s eyes went wide. 

“Oh,” Vegas said sheepishly. “I forgot to tell you Kinn and Kim were coming.”

“Oh?”

“They might have found the footage from my old house. Of the pool. And Mae…”

Pete’s face fell a little as he nodded seriously. 

“What can I do?”

“Just be with me? I’m not sure what’s going to happen.”

“Of course.”

Pete gave him a quick hug before he went to answer the door. 

“It’s been a while, cousin,” Kim drawled, barely greeting Vegas before his eyes raked over Pete with obvious interest. It made Vegas’s skin prickle a little. Pete was his. He didn’t want Kim leering at him like he was an animal in an exhibit. 

As he got closer, finally tearing his eyes away from Pete, Vegas noticed how much Kim had changed over the years. 

They were the closest in age, only a few months apart, so Kim had been a teenager the last time Vegas had really been around him. Kim mostly ran his own life, as much as a Theerapanyakul could, so Vegas hadn’t much reason to interact with him through work, either. He was handsome, as expected from their family. Prettier than his brothers. 

Vegas still thought Pete was prettier, but that was different anyway. 

“Kim, meet Pete.” 

Kim turned back to Pete, and Vegas finished introducing them. 

“Pete, this is Kim, my youngest cousin.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Pete said politely. 

“Likewise,” Kim said, putting on a charming smile as he crowded closer to Pete. Kim cocked his head to the side so his long hair hung a little in his face as he gazed up through his lashes, and absolutely not. Vegas knew that move. He had been the one to teach it to the little shit.

“Pete’s mine.”

Kim huffed out a laugh, but he stepped back. “Relax. I was just admiring the latest innovation of Theerapanyakul Industries. I have no interest in romancing a robot.”

“Good,” Vegas snapped, stepping closer to stand between them. “This one’s taken.”

Kim raised his brows, turning to Kinn as he said, “You weren’t joking. He’s head over heels.”

“I told you,” Kinn said. “Pete makes him happy.”

“Pete changed my life,” Vegas corrected, and Kinn only nodded indulgently. 

Stepping forward, Pete took Vegas’s hand as he said, “Vegas said you might have found some footage for him?”

Kim’s smirk dropped as he nodded. Vegas watched, his breath caught in his chest, as Kim pulled a thumb drive out of the pocket of his leather jacket. 

“It took quite a bit of digging, but I think I found the day in question.”

Vegas turned to Pete, needing his support and getting it in the form of a kind smile and a nod. 

“I’m here, baby,” Pete whispered. 

“Okay,” Vegas announced to the room. “Let’s go watch it.”

Vegas signed into his laptop as they all crowded around his desk in his office. Venice had even come in, letting out a mellow trill as he slowly approached, as if he could sense the serious mood in the room. 

With a slow breath, Vegas plugged the thumb drive in. Kim leaned into his space to point out which file it was, and Vegas’s finger hovered over the trackpad. 

He felt Pete’s large, warm hand against his back, and turned to look up at him. 

“Either way, it’s not my fault, right?” Vegas asked his lover. “I didn’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean I’m to blame, right?”

“Of course not,” Pete assured him in a low voice, reaching to stroke the back of Vegas’s head affectionately. “You were not given a choice, baby. It was just a horrible tragedy. I know if you had seen her, you would have done everything you could to try and help, even if it was already too late. That’s just who you are. You care.”

Taking a shaky breath, Vegas turned back to the screen and clicked on the file. 

With the low contrast, it was hard for him to distinguish lines clearly, but he could see the border of the pool beside his old home. For a while, Vegas just waited. The only indication the footage was moving was from the slight shift of the tree branches in the breeze. Other than that, everything was still. 

He saw the door open, and sucked in a breath as he saw himself running out in a university uniform, his hair styled back. He saw himself fumble with his bag, looking down as he adjusted the strap. He clenched his teeth, wanting to scream at his younger self to look up. To pay attention. To slow down. But he quickly sprinted off without even a single glance in the direction of the pool. 

For several seconds, Vegas just sat there. 

Kim was the one who leaned over and paused the video for him. 

Kinn was the first one to speak. 

“Even if she had been there, you wouldn’t have seen her, and not because of your eyes. You were just a kid in a hurry. But either way, there was nothing to see.”

It took another few seconds for the words to sink in. 

“Look closer,” Vegas demanded. “Zoom in.”

Kim exhaled impatiently, but he did as Vegas requested. He zoomed in as much as he could over the pool area, and Vegas pressed his face as close to the screen as he could get. 

He didn’t see anything other than a few leaves floating on the surface. 

Still, he didn’t trust his eyes. 

Vegas reached until his fingers were able to clutch Pete’s shirt. 

“I’m here,” Pete called gently, and Vegas turned to him with tears in his eyes. 

He didn’t trust his own eyes, but he trusted Pete. 

“Look, Pete. Tell me what you see.”

Pete crowded close enough that Vegas could smell him. He closed his eyes, pressing his face into Pete’s shoulder while he waited. 

“I see a pool. It’s full. There’s four- no, five leaves in the pool. There’s nothing else.”

Vegas sobbed, pulling Pete close as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

“She wasn’t there, baby.”

Ignoring the fact that his cousins were still in the room, Vegas just let himself cry. All of those years, he had not felt like he was allowed to properly grieve his mother. He felt like he didn’t deserve to, since he blamed himself for her death. But it hadn’t been his fault, not even a little. He couldn’t have done anything to stop it. 

Pete just held him until he calmed down, then he wiped Vegas’s tears away with a sad smile. 

“The rest of the file is corrupted,” Kim said, getting Vegas’s attention again. “Meaning…”

“Pa scrubbed it,” Kinn finished. 

Vegas stared at the screen, feeling drained. 

“Do you at least know if Pa killed her, or if-” 

He couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. 

“With the financial stress he was under, and the drugs we found in his system when he died,” Kinn said, “It’s hard to say. He wasn’t the most stable man.”

“No,” Vegas whispered. He could still feel the licking flames of his father’s rage and touched his cheek reflexively. “He probably did it, and then tried to pin the blame on me for not saving her, whether he meant it to look like an accident or not.”

“I’m sorry,” Kinn said, sounding like he meant it. “I know this isn’t easy, Vegas. But I’m glad we can at least put that part of the story to rest.”

Vegas gave Kim back the thumb drive, then he and Pete walked his cousins to the door. 

“Hey,” Vegas said, an idea popping into his head. He felt like he owed his family for all the support they’d been giving him over the years. “Why don’t you come over for dinner on Thursday? I’ll invite Macau and Chay, too.”

“I’ll have to take a rain check,” Kim said. “I’m busy.”

“I’ll be there,” Kinn said, giving Vegas a warm smile. “Dinner sounds nice. Should I invite Arm and Pol, too?”

“Yeah,” Vegas said. “It’ll be…nice.”

As soon as they were gone, Vegas sank into Pete’s presence and let the rest of the day melt away. 

The next day, Pete and Vegas were playing checkers when Macau let himself in, his hand over his eyes. 

“You’re decent, right?”

Vegas rolled his eyes but said, “Unfortunately.”

Macau sighed, then went back to the door. 

Furrowing his brow, Vegas glanced at Pete, who also looked confused and curious. 

Then, with a broad smile, Macau returned with Chay in tow. 

“Surprise!” Macau called, “I thought we could hang out for a little while, if you two aren’t busy.”

Vegas was always busy where Pete was concerned, but Pete was beaming when he looked over at him. He knew it made Pete happy for him and Macau to spend time together like they hadn’t been able to for years. 

“Never too busy for my favorite brother,” Vegas replied, getting up as Pete packed up their game.

The weather was clear with a nice breeze to keep the heat at bay, so the four of them decided to go hang out in the garden. Pete made sure Vegas put his sunglasses on to protect his eyes, then rubbed sunblock on all of his exposed skin before handing the bottle to Macau for himself and Chay. 

“Do androids get sunburn?” Vegas asked. Really, he just wanted an excuse to touch Pete, so he called Pete over so he could put sunblock on him as well. Then, with a quick kiss, he let Pete wander off on the grounds with Chay while he and Macau settled down to talk. 

“Kinn said he and Kim came over yesterday.”

Vegas sighed. “Yeah. They found the footage of the day Mae died.”

“And?”

“And nothing. She wasn’t there when I left for class. She… I couldn’t have saved her, Cau.”

Vegas made himself look at his brother, even though it threatened to tear his heart in two. 

Macau just nodded. “I know, Hia. I never blamed you.”

Vegas felt his nose burn a little, so he cleared his throat quickly and asked Macau how his classes were going. 

They talked casually for a while, until Macau pointed out Chay and Pete collecting flowers in the distance. 

“Things between you and Chay seem to be progressing,” Vegas observed. 

“Yeah, he’s great.” Macau grinned as he leaned a little closer, whispering loudly even though the others definitely couldn’t hear them. “And what about your love life? Tell me what it’s like.”

“To be in love with an android?” Vegas scoffed.

“To be in love with Pete,” Macau corrected. “What do you love about him?”

Vegas leaned back, staring at Pete’s back as he and Chay kept chatting in the distance. 

“He’s warm.”

“So you appreciate his thermodynamics?”

“No,” Vegas laughed, giving his brother a playful shove. “I mean, temperature-wise, he is warm, but I meant he’s just…comfortable. He’s kind. He’s gentle. He listens to me. He doesn’t judge me negatively for anything. He just accepts the way I am, but he also pushes me to be better. He just…he wants the best for me. I can feel it.”

“He’s really opened your world back up, Hia. That’s all I wanted. I just wanted you to know that you weren’t alone. If I couldn’t be with you so much, I wanted you to at least have someone.”

Tilting his head to the side, Vegas considered his brother’s words. Carefully, he said, “I don’t think just anyone would have worked, though. I don’t think just any android would have worked. They would have been nice to have around, I’m sure, after I got used to them. But Pete and I clicked almost immediately. I can’t explain it. He just made it feel like there had always been a Pete-shaped hole in my life, I just hadn’t known how to fill it until he arrived.”

“You do seem insanely compatible.”

Vegas snorted, his mind drifting to dirty thoughts before he could shake them away. 

“Obviously, but you made him that way, right? You’re the one who knows me even more than I thought you did. You somehow managed to program him exactly for what I wanted and needed. Thank you, by the way.”

Macau’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he said, “Yeah. Of course.”

*****

Pete glanced back at Vegas and Macau as he and Chay wandered off. His stomach was already twisting, already knowing what Chay would want to talk about. 

To his surprise, Chay said, “I’m on your side, Phi.”

Pete had known Chay for years of course, although they weren’t particularly close. Pete had always been a little jealous of how close the two brothers were, honestly. Then again, he wouldn't have wished to share his childhood experiences with another child. It had been bad enough for him to go through it. He imagined he would have felt worse knowing he couldn’t have spared a younger brother or sister the same abuse. 

Vegas hadn’t had an easy life, he knew, but Vegas had done his best to shield Macau. It was just another thing that Pete adored about him. 

Chay began to pick flowers, and Pete decided he might as well pick some, too. He just hoped Nop didn’t mind. He knew Vegas wouldn’t care. Pete could probably mow the entire garden to the ground and Vegas would tell him what a great job he did. 

“Anyone can see that you two are in love,” Chay said. “And I’ve barely been around you. Cau knows it, too. Hia’s just being Hia.”

Pete sighed. “Porsche tried to enforce at the beginning that it was supposed to be just a job. I knew it was only temporary when I agreed to it.”

“Yeah, but you can’t control your heart, Phi.”

Chay glanced back at the others as they did another loop around at a slow pace. 

“Can I tell you something, P’Pete? Just between us?”

Pete nodded quickly, leaning closer to share Chay’s confidence. 

With one more glance back at the others, Chay said, “Cau annoyed me when I first met him.”

Pete couldn’t help but smile as he remembered his first impression of Vegas. It seemed the brothers were quite similar. 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He was so cocky. He was always spouting off science jargon that I didn’t understand. Made me feel dumb, at first. Hia wanted us to be friends, though, since he’s P’Kinn’s cousin and I don’t have many friends my age. So I tried. And one day, we met up at a gaming cafe, and he was just so happy. He started talking about his brother, and this android he had helped make, and how it was going to change his brother’s life. And I realized that he wasn’t bragging about how smart he was. He might have been trying to impress me, but it was also just Macau trying to share something about himself. He knew I liked music, and he also asked me so much about myself. Once I got to know him, he didn’t annoy me anymore. He was actually pretty cute, and sweet.”

Pete grinned. “Cau is a really good kid. And he loves Vegas so much.”

“The point is,” Chay said, taking a deep breath. “I couldn’t help but fall for him. And Hia understood, once I explained it to him. I know he’s worried about you, P’Pete, but maybe if we can get him to listen to you, he’ll understand that it’s a wonderful thing that you and P’Vegas love each other so much. I’m sure Hia will be happy for you. He just needs to work out his feelings.”

Pete picked a rose, careful of the thorns as he snapped the stem. 

“I said some things I shouldn’t have, either. I was really upset, and I wanted to hurt his feelings like he hurt mine.”

“I hope you two work things out. But I’m rooting for you. Me and Cau both are.”

“Thank you.”

“Pet!” Vegas called from across the garden. “Should we make the kids lunch?”

Pete smiled wide enough that Vegas could see it clearly and waved in his direction. 

“That sounds perfect!” 

Pete pushed aside his worries for the time being. He only had a few weeks left, and he wanted to soak up as much of this dream that he could. He could pretend, just a little longer, that he could have this. That he could have a family. 

Chapter Text

Pete knelt behind Vegas, his arms wrapped around him as Vegas tied his shoelaces. 

“Pet, how are you going to be able to drive if you’re holding on to me like this?”

Vegas was smiling, Pete could hear it in his voice, but Pete wasn’t in the mood for joking. He had just been inside of Vegas an hour before, and he was already making plans to get Vegas to fuck his throat when they got back. He was insatiable, his greed for all of Vegas’s time and attention unquenchable. 

“Pete?” Vegas said, worry coloring his tone. 

“Come on,” Pete said quickly, kissing Vegas’s neck as he did his best to shrug off his own malaise. “Nop is waiting for us by the car.”

It was Wednesday, and they were taking Nop back to the hospital for his follow-up appointment, to make sure he was healing well. 

Pete got Vegas’s door for him, watching as Vegas took a deep breath and said aloud, “I’m not allergic. It’s still okay.”

Pete knew a response wasn’t needed, so he just smiled. Vegas still had moments where his fear crept back in, but he was still pushing forward. He was being brave. Pete was insanely proud of him. 

He would always be proud of Vegas. 

Nop was in the back, since Pete insisted on driving. 

“Thank you again,” Nop said, once they were all buckled. 

“It’s the least we can do,” Vegas said. “You’ve been taking care of me for years, Nop. Let me do something for you.”

With that, Vegas slid his sunglasses onto his face and turned on the radio, keeping it low in case anyone wanted to talk. By the time they made it to the hospital, Nop and Vegas had picked out the menu for the dinner party.

Something was pricking at the back of Pete’s neck, but he brushed it off, focusing on Vegas as they wound their way through the hospital halls, hand in hand. They dropped Nop off for his appointment in the waiting area, and Vegas said, “Pete, can we look around?”

Pete smiled, saying, “Sure, baby,” even as his veins turned to ice. 

He tried to steer Vegas in a safer direction, but he insisted on going in another, of course. 

“Why do you-”

Vegas looked a little frustrated as he tried to spot the signs on the far wall, and with a sigh he said, “I think maybe I’m ready to talk to someone. Like, a specialist. About my eyes.”

“Oh,” Pete said, his own worry tamped down immediately as he focused on Vegas. “That’s wonderful, Vegas. What do you want to talk to them about?”

Vegas chewed his lip for a second, his hand shaking a little in Pete’s. 

“I want- I think maybe I’m ready to ask them about treatment options.”

Pete inhaled sharply. This was everything that Macau wanted. He wanted Vegas to live, as well as he could. He wanted Vegas to care about his future, and Pete wanted that more than anything. 

“It’s-,” Vegas said, glancing down at their joined hands. “I know treatment is still in clinical trials. But Venice was helping me do some research the other day, and this isn’t just about my eyes. It can affect my liver and my brain. But some patients in studies have reported visual improvement with gene replacement therapy. I know I won’t ever have perfect vision, but maybe I can hold on to my sight for at least a little longer.”

“Vegas,” Pete gasped. “I’ll support you, no matter what you choose. But I think you should definitely at least talk to a doctor.”

Vegas gave a weak smile, twisting their hands around as he stepped closer to Pete. 

“Thank you, Pete. I just… I want to see your smile, for as long as I can.”

With a sharp inhale, Pete lunged forward, his hand gripping the back of Vegas’s neck as he pulled him in for a kiss. The kiss was chaste, but it lingered as Pete pressed his feelings into it. 

“I love you,” Pete whispered, pressing their foreheads together. Vegas smiled, kissing Pete’s cheek sweetly. 

“And I love you. We should get back to Nop. I can find a doctor another day.”

“Okay.” 

On the way back, Vegas said he needed to stop and use the restroom, so Pete waited in the hall for him. 

Before he could, though, someone called his name. 

His head snapped up, his fears actualized as Yaai and Tay came hurrying over. 

“Hello,” Tay said with a warm smile. “Fancy running into you here. We were just going for a walk. Were you looking for her?”

“Ah,” Pete choked out, glancing toward the bathroom door. “No, I can’t-” 

Tay’s smile dropped quickly. “Are you okay, Pete?”

Pete couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, but he hurriedly shuffled them further down the hall as he said, “I’m sorry, Yaai. Tay. Please pretend you don’t know me.”

“Pete, what’s going on?” Yaai asked, grabbing his arm. “What’s got you looking so upset?”

“I can’t explain,” Pete managed to say. “Not right now. But please, please, act like you don’t know me if you see me. I’ll come visit you again soon, Yaai. I promise. But he can’t-”

“Pete?”

Pete’s spine straightened, his eyes losing focus as everything came to a halt. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

Vegas’s hand landed on Pete’s back, and Pete jolted. 

All he could do was watch as Tay plastered a smile to his face and turned to Vegas. 

“Sorry again for bothering you.” 

To Yaai, Tay put on a sing-song voice and said, “Let’s get you back to your room, yeah? Let these nice men go home.” 

“Who-” Vegas began to ask. 

Tay spun around, lowering his voice as he apologetically said, “I’m so sorry. She’s got Alzheimer’s and just got confused.”

Yaai didn’t protest as Tay led her back toward her room. She didn’t even look back at Pete, and Pete felt like he wanted to curl into a ball and never move again. 

“Oh,” Vegas said. He sounded woeful as he said, “You must look like someone she knows.”

All Pete could manage to say was, “Maybe.”

Then, with the next breath, Pete took those feelings and did what he did best. He bottled them up. He crushed them into small pieces, and shoved them into whatever crevice and crack he could. He would swallow them, hoping he didn’t choke. 

He hated hurting Yaai. He hated lying to her, and lying to Vegas. He knew he didn’t have much of a choice, though. Not unless he wanted to show them all of his rot and decay. He was putrid inside. His father must have always seen it. He had let it slip out when he had fought with Porsche, and it was hard to keep it all in once it started leaking. 

But Pete would hold it together. He had to. Just a little longer. 

One day, when Vegas was no longer his–when Porsche had finally abandoned him and Yaai had moved on to the next great adventure–he would release all the toxins he kept trapped within himself. He would let himself decompose only when it wouldn’t infect the others around him. Until then, he had to just let it fester. 

So, with a smile plastered over his face, he took Vegas’s hand and dutifully led him to find Nop. He made it through their trip to the grocery store focusing on helping them find everything they needed for the dinner. That was an easy distraction, since Vegas needed a lot of help reading the small labels. 

He let the music on the car ride home distract him. 

He let himself forget that they had even seen Yaai. Vegas certainly seemed to.

Once they were home, they got everything put away while Vegas asked Venice to set reminders for the next day, so he could make sure everything was ready on time. 

Then, Arm came to fetch Pete for his charging session, and he allowed his smile to go slack for a time. 

“Are you okay?” Arm asked halfway to the lab. 

“We saw Yaai today. At the hospital.”

This time, Pete was ready to brace himself as Arm hit the brakes. 

“Oh, shit,” Arm said, running a hand through his hair. He adjusted his glasses on his face and kept driving. “What happened?”

“Nothing. The nurse helped cover by pretending Yaai had Alzheimer’s and thought I was someone else.”

“I mean,” Arm said, swallowing thickly. “I did model you–PET3–after her grandson. I’ll get with Khun Kinn to discuss what our story should be in case Khun Vegas starts to ask questions.”

Pete shrugged, looking out his window. 

“How are repairs coming?”

He was hoping for bad news, but Arm said, “Amazing. We should be up and running within the week.”

Pete closed his eyes, trying not to cry. He had less time than he thought. 

“But,” Arm said quickly, as if sensing his mood. “Of course, we’ll still need time for the transition period. We don’t want to make it too abrupt for Khun Vegas. But I’m sure he’ll adapt quickly. He’s been doing so well.”

Pete leaned his head on the cool glass as he tuned out the rest of whatever Arm said. At the lab, he intended on doing what he had been and just shutting himself in his little room, but when he got in there, Porsche was sitting on the cot. 

He was too stubborn to walk back out, so Pete leaned against the door and crossed his arms. 

“Porsche.”

“Pete, I’m sorry. I know you’re probably still pissed at me, but can we please talk?”

Pete didn’t think his day could get worse, so he nodded, taking a seat next to Porsche so he at least didn’t have to look directly at him. 

“I think part of what you said was right, Pete. But not for the reason you think.”

“Meaning?”

“I think I was jealous. Hell, I might still be a little jealous. But I’m not jealous about you landing a rich guy. I’m-” 

Porsche’s arms flailed around like they did when he got worked up, which was often. 

“You’ve always been mine,” Porsche finally said.

That certainly was unexpected. Pete ran the words through his head again as he turned to Porsche with his eyebrows raised. Surely, he had misheard. 

“You’ve always been mine,” Porsche repeated, lower this time. “Even before I realized I was bi, you were always special to me, Pete. And maybe it’s not romance. It’s not the same as the way I feel about Kinn, but it’s like a platonic crush or something. Fuck if I know.”

“Didn’t expect you to have gay panic this late in the game,” Pete uttered under his breath, scoffing a little. 

“Shut up,” Porsche whined, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“So you have a serious crush on me? Then why try and hand me off to Tay?”

“Because you weren’t interested in Tay.”

Pete rolled his eyes, but Porsche tugged his arm to get his attention. 

“I think the second you actually got interested in Tay, or someone else, I would have been just as jealous. It was easier before, when you only had hookups. Relationships didn’t work out for you, but that meant that I was still the most important person to you.”

“Okay, this apology is sounding really fucking selfish.”

“I know. I’m trying to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I can’t do whatever I want, be happy with Kinn, and then try to keep you from finding the same happiness just to keep you for myself. I think I just was worried that Vegas would break your heart, all while hating how happy he made you. The way you smile when you’re with him, Pete… I’ve never seen you smile like that.”

Pete dropped his head in his hands as he took a deep breath. 

“Look, I already got reamed out by Kinn and Chay for making you go on that date with Tay, and Chay never yells at me. I’m sorry I was being so selfish, Pete. You’re my best friend, and I haven’t been the same to you.”

Turning to face Porsche, Pete studied him for a moment. He certainly looked reprimanded. 

“And I’m sorry for saying that shit about your parents. That was uncalled for. I know it wasn’t easy for you, having the life I dreamed of only to lose it. And I know how hard you’ve worked to support Chay. You even got a sugar daddy.”

“Hey!” Porsche laughed, leaning to kick Pete’s leg softly. 

Pete shoved him, and soon they were half-heartedly wrestling on the cot until they were both laughing. 

“Still best friends?” Porsche asked, looking nervous of the answer.

“That position might be going to Tay soon,” Pete teased, “But sure, we can be friends.”

“Asshole,” Porsche muttered, still grinning. 

They lapsed into silence, which Porsche broke by asking, “Do you really love him, Pete? Is he really the one?”

Pete thought about what Chay had said about explaining things properly to Porsche, and decided to open up a little more. 

“Vegas is my very soul, Porsche. I know I can’t be with him. I know that. I know it’ll break him if he ever finds out that I lied to him. But, Porsche, when I think about him being taken from me, I can’t-” 

Pete let out a gasping breath, inhaling sharply as he said, “I can’t fucking breathe. I don’t know how to exist without him anymore. I can’t- I can’t-”

A sob hummed out of Pete as he realized he was hyperventilating. 

Porsche’s strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tight as Porsche rocked him gently, and Pete just let himself cry. 

Once he had calmed himself down a little, Porsche cupped his face, thumbing away his tears as he said, “I say we take their money and just run away together.”

Pete laughed dryly, using his sleeve to dry the rest of his face. 

“But seriously,” Porsche said. “If it’s like that, then we’ll figure something out. Just give it some time. Maybe we can tell him-”

“We can’t,” Pete interrupted. He thought about the fragile way Vegas had asked him to look at the footage Kim had brought over. He had more faith and trust in Pete than he had in himself, and it had broken Pete’s heart to think about damaging that trust for his own personal feelings. 

More resolutely, he said, “He’s not ready to hear that I lied to him. I don’t know if he’ll ever be ready. I don’t want to hurt him, Porsche.”

Porsche sighed and asked, “Then, what can I do?”

“Be there when I fall apart?”

“Deal,” Porsche said, pulling Pete into another hug. 

Pete ran some water over his face, then meandered over to the part of the lab where they worked on PET3. 

Early on, he hated that thing. He dreamed about breaking it beyond repair. 

But now he saw it for what it was meant to be: Vegas’s. 

It would be there to comfort him. To eat with him. To play games with him. To watch storms outside the large windows. 

Pete would always treasure the memories he made with Vegas, but there would soon be a day where that was all they would be: precious memories. 

“Oh,” Pol said, grinning as he urged Pete closer. “Come say hello.”

PET3 blinked, giving a smile as he said, “Hello.”

“Hi.”

With a sigh, Pete leaned closer, then reached out to pat the android on the head. 

“Listen up, PET3. You better take excellent care of Vegas. Make him happy. If you don’t, I’ll clip your wires.”

Arm’s face paled, but Pete only stood up and asked to be taken home. 

Vegas was waiting for him in the living room when he arrived. 

“I already sent Venice to bed,” Vegas said. 

Before he could say more, Pete was scooping him up and kissing him. He carried Vegas to his bed, where he undressed them both. Spreading Vegas’s legs, Pete licked and sucked him fully hard, then swallowed Vegas down as far as he could. After crying, his throat was sore, but Vegas’s cock felt incredible. Pete made a begging sound, placing both of Vegas’s hands in his hair. Vegas understood what he wanted, and began to guide the pace as he used Pete’s mouth to chase his pleasure. Pete just moaned, his own cock leaking but ignored as he focused solely on Vegas. He catalogued every sound Vegas made, his taste, his scent. He would lock this away to relive later when he was lonely and missing him. 

“Fuck, pet,” Vegas cried, giving a few short, quick thrusts before coming down Pete’s throat. 

Pete diligently licked him clean, then pressed Vegas’s thighs to his stomach as he began to mouth over his rim, humming with pleasure. He worked his tongue inside of Vegas, then a finger. When he got two fingers in, he stretched Vegas open. They fucked often, so it wasn’t hard to prep him. As soon as he was ready enough, writhing and whimpering as he rode Pete’s face, Pete pulled away to nip at Vegas’s thigh. 

“Ah,” Vegas keened as Pete sank into him. 

Pete didn’t move, he just pressed in as deep as he could be and stopped, his hot breath fanning over Vegas’s chest. 

“Pete?”

“Can I stay here, baby? I just want to feel you.”

“Okay,” Vegas said softly, brushing Pete’s hair aside to kiss his forehead. “Feels good.”

Pete hummed in agreement, then got comfortable in Vegas’s arms, closing his eyes. Their breathing evened out, and Pete went soft inside of Vegas, but that was okay. They were together. 

Pete couldn’t ask for more. 

Chapter Text

Pete thought it was adorable, how much Vegas was stressing over his family dinner. He wanted everything to go perfectly, and Pete wanted that, too. Venice kept them on track for time as they dusted and cleaned. Nop helped them extend the table so there would be enough room. Vegas was mixing and cooking for hours, filling the house with a mouth-watering aroma. 

“Pete, can you taste this for me?”

Pete grinned, hurrying over to make sure the food was up to Vegas’s standard. 

“Mmm,” Pete moaned, licking the sauce from Vegas’s finger. “Perfect.”

“Is it?”

With a nod, Pete smacked a kiss to Vegas’s lips. 

“Just like you.”

Vegas smiled, stealing another kiss, and Pete went back to setting the table. 

When they only had an hour left, they hopped in the shower together. As much as Pete wanted to do more, they stuck to kissing as they washed one another to sneak touches. 

Vegas picked out Pete’s outfit, and Pete just let himself be dressed like a doll. 

After all, he reminded himself, that’s what he was. A very beloved doll, but a doll nonetheless. 

Macau and Chay arrived first, followed by Arm and Pol. Pete helped Vegas welcome them in while Venice buzzed around excitedly. Nop came with a bottle of wine, and Vegas glanced toward the door. 

“They’ll come,” Pete whispered. 

Kinn was obviously making an effort with Vegas, and Pete could relax knowing he and Porsche had at least cleared the air between them. 

“You look pretty,” Vegas whispered back, reaching to straighten Pete’s collar slightly. “My pretty pet.”

Pete let the words pass through him while trying not to imagine Vegas saying them to PET3. 

“You okay? You overheating again?”

Pete shook his head, forcing a smile as he insisted he was fine. 

Vegas was still looking at him, but Kinn and Porsche finally arrived, drawing his attention as he invited them in. 

Mindful of Vegas’s schedule, Venice called everyone to the table to eat. 

Vegas took the head of the table, of course, with Pete and Macau on either side of him. Kinn, naturally, took the other end, and everyone settled in. 

As the dinner went on, Pete found himself talking less and less. He looked around the table, as voices blended together in laughter, and felt like a stowaway. He didn’t belong with them. He didn’t even belong at the table. Pete turned to look at Venice, who was just quietly waiting to be interacted with. 

A noise caught his attention from the other end of the table. His ringtone. 

“I gotta get this,” Porsche announced as he hopped up, sneaking a serious look at Pete. 

Pushing his chair out a minute later, Pete mumbled, “I’ll be right back.”

Vegas grabbed his hand, giving him an affectionate squeeze before letting him go. 

Pete tried to stay calm as he followed Porsche to his room. There, he found Porsche on a call with his eyes closed. 

“Okay, thank you for calling. I’ll pass on the message.”

With a heavy sigh, Porsche ended the call. 

“Pete, sit down.”

“No,” Pete snapped, tears already filling his eyes. 

“She’s stable,” Porsche said quickly, moving to hug him. “The hospital said Yaai coded, but they managed to stabilize her. Kinn and I will think of an excuse to take you out tonight so you can see her. Let’s just finish dinner, so Vegas doesn’t get suspicious.”

Right. Vegas.

Pete pulled away from Porsche’s embrace, swallowing as he wiped away his tears. 

You’re an android, Pete reminded himself. Androids didn’t have grandmothers. 

“Pet?” Vegas called, opening his bedroom door. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry,” Porsche said quickly. “I had a call, then wanted to see this lovely painting that Pete did.”

“Oh,” Vegas said, relaxing again. “Yeah. It’s so great.”

Pete smiled, spinning around to face Vegas as he said, “Let’s finish dinner.”

At the table, Pete just pushed food around on his plate while the laughter and causal chatter around him crashed over him like turbulent waves, threatening to capsize him with every swell. 

“Do you think you and I will ever have a fight?” Vegas whispered, his voice cutting through the din. Pete felt weighted down as he turned to see what Vegas meant. Porsche and Kinn were whispering to each other with fierce expressions. 

“No,” Vegas answered himself sweetly, brushing a little of Pete’s bangs aside. “You’re just too perfect to fight with.”

The string

s

 n

  a

   p

    p

     e

      d. 

Jumping to his feet, Pete’s voice grew in volume as he said, “I’m not perfect! I’ve never been perfect! I’ll never-”

Pete was choking, his collar suddenly a vice, cutting off his air. That treasure of his, that sign of Vegas’s ownership, had turned into a snare. 

With a wild yell, Pete clawed at his throat and yanked until he heard a snap. Pearls flew everywhere as Vegas tried to grab Pete’s wrists. 

“Pete! Pete? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sit here and pretend to be fine! I’m not fine! I have feelings! I feel things, too!”

“Pete-” Porsche called, the rest of his words lost as he grabbed Pete to pull him away. Pete kicked and struggled as Porsche dragged him to the door. Porsche was bigger, but Pete was scrappy, and he almost managed to break free when Kinn grabbed Pete’s other side. Together, they managed to get Pete to their car. 

“Pete?” Vegas called, rushing after them. 

Pete shut his eyes tightly, clutching his face as he let out a pained, shrieking scream. He was unable to look at the pain and confusion he was sure was on Vegas’s face–the pain and confusion he had caused. 

He only ever hurt the people close to him. He would always let them down. 

Pete was shaking as the car door opened again and Arm shoved him over to climb in. 

“He’ll be back, Khun Vegas,” Arm said. “It’s just a glitch.”

Arm shut the door and Pete could still hear Vegas calling his name. He wanted to scream again, but instead he covered his ears, bending down to hide his face as Kinn quickly drove off. 

“Pete,” Porsche said. “Put your seat belt on.”

“Take me to Yaai,” Pete sobbed, sitting up so Arm could help him buckle up. 

Pete sobbed until he began to hiccup. 

He knew he had ruined everything, but he just couldn’t hold it in anymore. He was real. He was a real person with real feelings, and he felt so guilty for not being there when Yaai needed him. 

Pete was torn in two and didn’t know if he would ever be able to stitch himself back together again. 

*****

Vegas tried to run after Kinn’s car as he screamed Pete’s name, but he tripped and fell, scraping his palms on the paved drive. 

“Hia!” Macau called, his feet thundering as he rushed to Vegas’s side. 

“Pete,” Vegas cried, turning to his brother. “Cau, they took him. They took hi-” Vegas sucked in a harsh breath as Macau helped him to his feet. 

“It’ll be okay, Hia. Let’s go inside. You’re bleeding.”

Weakly, Vegas let Chay and Macau steer him back inside. 

“Boss…” Venice called out, his animated expression doleful.

Taking a steadying breath, Vegas did his best to collect himself for Venice. Venice sounded sad, so Vegas had to do his best to calm him down. It was what Pete would want. 

“It’ll be okay, Ven. Pete will be back. He just needs a special repair. Then he’ll be as good as new.” 

He turned to Pol for backup, and he quickly nodded. 

“Exactly,” Nop said. “Arm and Pol and Khun Macau will fix him.”

Venice wheeled himself away with a sad beep. 

As Macau tried to lead Vegas through the kitchen to wash his hands, though, Vegas remembered that Pete’s collar was broken, the pieces scattered around the dining area. 

“Hold on,” Vegas said, trying to keep his breathing steady as he dropped onto his hands and knees, oblivious to the scrapes on his hands as he strained his eyes to find every pearl. When his hand was almost full, he felt a light nudge on his shoulder. 

“Here, P’Vegas.” 

Vegas thanked Chay as he handed him a small bowl for the pieces he had already collected. When he was finally done, having found the pendant and the o-ring, Macau insisted on patching him up. 

Vegas couldn’t even cry as Macau sent Vegas to bed, saying that Nop would help him and Chay clean everything up. 

He couldn’t cry as he undressed down to his underwear and collapsed into Pete’s bed, because crying implied that Pete really was gone. 

They had said Pete would be back, as soon as he was fixed, so Vegas had no reason to cry. 

If Pete’s pillow got damp as Vegas lay there, motionlessly staring at Pete’s painting of the moon, Vegas would never admit it was because he was crying. He wasn’t. 

In the morning, the house was unusually quiet. Even Venice was subdued as he rolled into Pete’s room, where Vegas remained, staring at the ceiling. 

When his body forced him to move, Vegas showered quickly and grabbed a shirt and a pair of shorts from Pete’s closet to wear. As he left the room, he grabbed the stuffed hedgehog to have something soft to hold. 

As he stepped into the kitchen, he stopped so quickly that Venice almost ran over his heels. 

“Cau? What are you doing here this early?”

“Oh, you’re up.”

Macau turned around with a smile as he handed Vegas a steaming mug of coffee. 

Vegas only narrowed his eyes slightly as he accepted it. 

“You didn’t move my sugar again, did you?”

“That was one time, Hia,” Macau whined. “But to answer your question, I never left. Nop drove Chay home for me, and I crashed in your room.”

Sitting his cup on the table, Vegas put the hedgehog in Pete’s chair and shuffled Macau out of the way so he could scramble them some eggs. Macau used to eat them a lot as a kid, he remembered. 

When he couldn’t hold it in anymore, he asked, “Any updates yet?”

Macau sighed, fetching them both plates. 

“Not yet.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“It could have been several things, but I’m sure Kinn and Arm will tell you as soon as we know more.”

Turning the stove off, Vegas said, “I miss him.”

“I know. Hopefully he’ll be back soon.”

Vegas had to wait until the following weekend before Arm, Kinn, and Pol showed up at his house to see him. It felt oddly formal as they sat down at the table. 

Arm was fidgeting, and Vegas was sleep-deprived, so the movement irritated him more than he’d been in a while. He found it hard to sleep without Pete, and impossible to sleep anywhere but Pete’s bed, and it was obviously having a negative impact on his mood. 

“I want to know what happened,” Vegas began. 

For days, he had been going over everything in his head. Should he have let Pete charge more often? Had he pushed him too far, too quickly?

Arm glanced at Kinn, who nodded, and cleared his throat to speak. 

“It’s most similar to emergent misalignment.”

Vegas cocked an eyebrow, and Arm continued. 

“PET3’s system overloaded itself, and to try and maintain efficiency, he began to override his coding. Really, he glitched on the first day, but we let him continue because it seemed harmless at the time. His emotional system couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Vegas exhaled slowly, dropping his face in his hands. 

Closing his eyes, he asked, “So how long until he’s repaired? What should I do to stop this from happening again?”

“We can bring PET3 over tomorrow,” Kinn said, and Vegas’s eyes snapped open. 

Light had finally broken free from the oppressive cloud cover. Pete was coming home. 

Vegas grinned, but Kinn still wore a slight frown. 

“Vegas, there’s something you need to know.”

The pit in Vegas’s stomach doubled in size as the smile evaporated off of his face. 

“PET3 was severely damaged, Vegas. He won’t be the same when he returns.”

Vegas turned to Arm. 

“What do you mean?”

“He…” Arm began with a sigh. “He had to be reset, Khun Vegas. We can bring him to you, but you need to be less personal with him. He’s meant to aid you, and too many emotions are too much for him to handle, even as advanced as he is.”

“No,” Vegas gasped, turning back to his cousin. “P’Kinn, tell me he’s lying.”

Kinn wouldn’t meet his gaze. His fist sat atop the table, firmly clenched, as he said, “I wish he was. But he’s different. He’s not the same Pete you had before.”

Then Kinn was getting up so quickly it made Vegas flinch. 

“I’m so sorry, Khun Vegas,” Pol said gently. “This is the best we can give you.”

Vegas barely remembered them leaving. He had been looking forward to Pete coming home. It had been getting him out of bed every morning. 

But now…

They might as well have told Vegas that Pete had died, for how hollow he felt. 

Vegas grieved. He grieved with all the love he held for Pete. At some point, Macau called, but Vegas said he needed to be alone. 

That night, he sat at Pete’s desk and stared at his painting as it leaned against the wall. He would get it framed, he decided. Clutching the hedgehog close, Vegas opened the desk drawer. He had often caught Pete hunched over his desk, but he always hid whatever he was doing, and Vegas didn’t pry.

As Vegas withdrew the stack of loose paper, he began to shake with fresh sobs as he looked through them. They were mostly sketches of him, in pen. Him smiling, him pouting, him sleeping. 

When had Pete done all of these?

Sobs wracked Vegas as he held the pages to his chest. Looking at them, he could still feel Pete’s love. 

Eventually, Vegas carefully put the pages back and crawled into Pete’s bed, where he passed out. 

The next day, Vegas went through the motions. He got dressed. He ate. Then, he sat on the sofa, numb, while he waited for Pete to come home. 

Arm called when they arrived, and Vegas let them in as they wheeled in the large box. Vegas watched with a sense of déjà vu as Arm opened the box and said, “PET3, online.”

The android’s eyes opened, but Vegas could feel no life in them, not like before, as he said, “Hello, Master. I am PET3. Your Personalized Enrichment Tech 3.”

Vegas opened his mouth to correct him, but decided against it. Hearing his name from those lips he could no longer kiss felt wrong. 

“Pete, how are you feeling?”

The droid grinned, but Vegas didn’t see the expected dimple. 

“I am feeling fine, Master. How are you?”

Vegas sighed. “I’ll be fine.”

Arm instructed Vegas that they would pick PET3 up every evening, keeping him overnight to return him in the mornings. 

“It’s to try and keep him more stable,” Arm said. “This way, we should be able to catch any malfunctions before they get out of control.”

Vegas could only nod, feeling nothing as Arm and Pol left PET3 with him. 

“Venice?”

Vegas spun around, but there was no sign of the bot. 

“You can meet him again later,” he told PET3. 

Then, Vegas just stared at him. 

PET3 felt like a stranger, but Vegas could only think of all the times Pete had begged to be kept. 

“Don’t worry,” Vegas whispered, as the droid smiled at him. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Pete couldn’t make his own light anymore, but Vegas could still feel his shine, deep in his heart. 

He would clutch his feelings close, knowing he would rather have this uncanny shell than nothing at all. And maybe, given enough time, he would shine for Vegas again. 

Chapter Text

Vegas sat at the hospital with Macau, filling out forms. They were tedious and boring, but Vegas needed to start the process again to see a BCD specialist. He hadn’t been to any doctor in years, though, so they wanted a full health screening. 

When they were finally done for the day, Macau jogged off to get the car, leaving Vegas by the entrance doors. 

While he was waiting, annoyed by the face mask he wore under his sunglasses despite the heat, someone bumped into him. It wasn’t hard, but it did knock the folder the hospital had given him to the ground. As he bent to snatch it up, his mouth opened to say something, but when he looked up, his throat constricted. 

The man was staring at his phone, looking completely distracted as he waved a half-hearted apology. He could only see the man’s profile, but Vegas recognized him, even though he was a little hazy. 

Vegas dropped the folder once more, and when he looked up again the man was already boarding a bus. Vegas hurried over, trying to get a better look at him through the crowd and tinted glass. The bus quickly pulled away, though, and Vegas was left standing there. 

“Pete…”

“Hia?” Macau called, pulling up beside him. “You said you would wait by the door.”

“Yeah,” Vegas mumbled, sliding into the passenger seat. “Sorry. I thought-”

“Thought what?”

The last thing Vegas needed was his next visit to the hospital being one to the psych department, so he said, “Thought I saw a baby.”

“A baby? Since when do you care about babies?”

“They’re cute. You used to be a cute baby, once.”

“Hey,” Macau pouted. “I’m still cute.”

Vegas hoped Macau didn’t notice his hand shaking as he ruffled his hair affectionately. 

“Yeah, yeah. Do you want to stay for lunch?”

“Sure,” Macau grinned. 

Vegas half-listened to his brother ramble as they drove back to the house. By the time they arrived, Vegas had mostly convinced himself that he had imagined the man entirely. 

His mind must have been playing an evil trick on him, because he missed Pete terribly. 

As they went inside, he could almost hear Pete calling him. 

Hi, Vegas!

“Hello, Master,” PET3 said, smiling like he did. 

“Hi,” Macau replied. “Glad to see you didn’t burn the place down.”

The android’s smile dropped as it turned to Vegas. 

“Master, it is against my directive to set fire to anything.”

“I was joking,” Macau said slowly, with a sigh. “We need to have Arm tweak your sense of humor. Better yet, have Pol do it. He’s funnier.”

“No,” Vegas said. “Don’t mess with him unless it’s necessary.”

Vegas stared at the android, who had gone back to smiling. 

“Why don’t you get started on lunch?” Vegas suggested. “I need to go do something.”

“Come on, PET3,” Macau called, insisting on working on the android’s skills in the kitchen yet again. 

As he watched them walk off, Vegas was certain he hadn’t imagined the man who had bumped into him. But Pete was at the house, so he didn’t know who that was. 

Shutting himself in his office with Venice, Vegas asked him to call Arm. 

“Khun Vegas? Is PET3 alright?”

“Yeah, he’s, uh, he’s in the kitchen with Macau making lunch.”

Arm blinked, moving a little closer to the camera. 

“Can I help you with something else?”

Vegas swallowed. He needed to not sound insane, and he needed to not seem suspicious. 

“Yeah, do you have a few minutes to talk?”

Vegas pulled as many innocuous questions out of thin air that he could. How long had Arm been working on PET3? Were there any worrisome signs that Vegas needed to look out for after the reset? On and on. Once Arm was nice and relaxed, Vegas sprang the real question he had been wanting an answer to. 

“Where did you get his design from? Did you work with an artist?”

“Oh,” Arm said, leaning further away than he ever had on a call with Vegas.

Vegas tried to keep his expression open and passive, even as his hackles were raised. 

“Actually, it’s a little embarrassing to admit.”

Vegas smiled, shrugging. “I promise I won’t laugh.”

“I actually based his design–his look, his personality, all of it–off of someone I used to date.”

“Really?” Vegas asked, his eyes going wide. 

Arm scoffed, leaning back in as he said, “Well, I thought we were dating. He thought of it more like…going on dates, I guess.”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah. Not my best moment.”

“But you spent years of your life perfecting an android that looked just like him?”

Arm groaned, covering his face. “I know. I’m such a loser.”

“I was going to say you have good taste. Clearly, whoever this guy is, he’s worth obsessing over.” Vegas picked up his paperweight, needing something to do with his hands. “So, you, uh, still talk to this guy?”

“We’re not really in contact at the moment.”

“He moved away?”

“No. He’s close. But we’ve just gone in different directions. We weren’t meant to be.”

“Ah,” Vegas commiserated. “Well, sorry for bringing up the past. I was just curious. He certainly has quite the unique look.”

With that, Vegas made some excuse about going to help with lunch and hung up. With any luck, Arm wouldn’t mention their conversation to anyone. If they started asking questions, Vegas would have to tell them that he was possibly seeing things. 

He was still barely sleeping, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. 

Vegas tapped on his desk, lost in thought. The hospital. 

That old woman had been talking to Pete, as if she recognized him. Perhaps she knew his model?

“Venice,” Vegas called, reaching out to pat Venice’s head. “Are you going to be nice to Pete? I might have to leave you with him again soon.”

“I can’t meet him. P’Pete said.”

This again. 

Vegas rolled his eyes. 

“Venice, that is your P’Pete. And I know he’s been reset, and he feels…different. But I’m sure you’re hurting his feelings by ignoring him.”

With a frustrated trickle of notes, Venice rolled out of the office, likely to go sulk in Vegas’s room again. 

“I swear,” Vegas muttered under his breath. “It’s like I traded one moody bot for another.”

After lunch, Macau said he really needed to go study, so Vegas waved him off. 

“Pete, I’m going out again. I’ll be home later. Just…do whatever you want to do.”

“Yes, Master.”

He wondered if PET3 would actually do anything. Usually, he just sat somewhere until there were chores to do or Vegas wanted his company. That was fine. He didn’t want to stress his system. He was safe, and he was there, even if the wound in Vegas’s heart only seemed to grow bigger. 

Knocking on the door to Nop’s apartment, Vegas gave him a grin when he appeared. 

“Could I trouble you to drive me to the hospital?”

“Are you okay?” Nop asked, flustered as he grabbed his shoes.

“I’m fine, don’t rush. I just forgot something.”

Putting his face mask and sunglasses on again, Vegas told Nop he could pick him up in an hour if he wanted to do some shopping. 

“Since we came all this way,” Vegas said, innocently. 

“If you’re sure.”

Nop did not look sure, but Vegas waved him off. 

“I’ll be fine. See you in an hour.”

Vegas walked away before Nop could protest. He had no way of knowing if that woman was even still there, but he had to at least try. He wandered the halls, stopping at random nurses’ stations to ask if they knew who he was looking for. No one did. 

Just as he was on the verge of giving up, Vegas saw that nurse again, the one with the silver hair. He was walking confidently toward the ICU. Vegas walked quickly, acting like he knew where he was going, and slipped through the door right after the nurse. 

He watched, peering closely at the large numbers of the room the nurse stepped into. 

A minute passed, and the nurse reappeared, shutting the door as he said, “I’ll come visit you again, soon.”

An old woman said, “Thank you, Nurse Tay.”

The nurse vanished, and as Vegas took another step, someone grabbed his arm. He hadn’t even seen them approach in his periphery. 

“Can I help you?”

Vegas glanced back at the door, hoping luck was on his side. “I’m, uh, here to see my grandmother.”

The nurse narrowed her eyes as Vegas pointed to the door. 

“Her grandson is here every day, and you’re not him.”

“I’m his boyfriend.”

The nurse looked skeptical, but walked Vegas to the room. 

The old woman blinked at him, and as he got closer, Vegas was sure it was her. 

“Hi, Yaai,” he said. “Remember me? I’m dating your grandson.”

The nurse crossed her arms, but Vegas made a pleading gesture, and Yaai said, “Of course, honey. Come on in. So nice to see you.”

The nurse said, “It’s almost time for her to eat, so I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“I won’t be long,” Vegas promised. 

The door shut, and Vegas breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Now,” Yaai said weakly. “Care to tell me why you’re here?”

As simply as he could, Vegas told the woman that he had a special robot made to help him, and that robot seemed to look like someone she knew. 

“I remember you,” Yaai said quietly. “You were with him a few weeks ago.”

“Yes,” Vegas exhaled. The woman seemed awfully coherent, and he was very much starting to doubt the story about her having Alzheimer’s. “Who did my companion look like to you?”

“My grandson,” she said stubbornly with a grin that felt familiar. “Pete.”

The woman pointed to a framed photo on a shelf across the room, and Vegas hurried over to look at it closer. He was younger, wearing a khrui and holding a bouquet of flowers to mark his university graduation, but Vegas knew that face. 

“Pete,” Vegas gasped. They even had the same name. 

Without realizing it, Vegas was soon mirroring the smile the Pete in the frame wore. 

Holding the photo close, Vegas pulled up a chair beside her hospital bed. 

“I know it sounds crazy, but my robot was designed after him. After your grandson. And I was curious to know more about him. Can you tell me what he’s like?”

Yaai settled back into her pillow and grinned. “I love to talk about my Pete. Where should I start…”

*****

It was hot on the crowded bus, and Pete was drenched in sweat by the time he made it to the gym to meet Porsche. 

“You look like shit,” Porsche said, sounding more worried than flippant. “You still haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

Pete gave him a look, not needing to answer. 

“Yaai’s still recovering. Every time my phone buzzes…”

“You think it’s the hospital,” Porsche finished. 

Nodding, Pete quickly changed and began to wrap his hands. He hadn’t really let himself stop to think about anything but Yaai ever since the dinner party. Sleep usually came with the aid of a pill or by simply blacking out after too many hours. To help, Porsche had been pushing Pete at the gym, either making him run, hit the punching bag until Pete’s limbs were weak, or by sparring with him. 

Pete at least appreciated that Porsche didn’t offer to talk about…

White noise filled Pete’s head before he could finish that thought. 

Yaai had almost died, he reminded himself, while he had been too busy to be there for her. She had taken him in once his mother died and his father stopped even trying to keep him alive. He owed that woman everything, and he had failed her. 

“Hit me,” Pete grunted, climbing into the ring. 

Nearly an hour later, Pete and Porsche both collapsed in the center of the ring, panting. 

Pete’s lip was split, and he could faintly taste copper on his tongue. 

“Have I ever told you that you might be insane?” Porsche teased, grunting as he tried to sit up, clutching his side. “You might have ruptured my kidney or something.”

“You have another,” Pete teased back. 

“Fucker,” Porsche hissed, reaching out a hand to help Pete to his feet. 

They showered in the locker room and quickly changed.

“Thanks for bringing my bag for me,” Pete said as they stepped outside again. 

“No problem. I’ll need a few days to recover before we go again, but I can run you on the treadmill tomorrow if you want.”

“Maybe,” Pete said. “I’ll text you.”

“And be free this weekend. Kinn wants to take you to dinner.”

Pete opened his mouth to decline, but Porsche pursed his lips.

“He won’t take no for an answer. And no, for the last time, he won’t take any of the money back.”

“Worth a try,” Pete muttered, giving Porsche one last wave before dragging himself back to his little apartment to try to eat and get some sleep. 

Pete ended up staring out his window listlessly for hours. When he couldn’t stand the quiet any longer, he went out into the night, passing bar hoppers who laughed freely. 

He walked to a park, which was mostly empty so late at night, and found a bench to sit on. The air was still hot and sticky. He had lost track of the days, but that was fine. He would have to tell Porsche to text him about grabbing dinner. Otherwise, he would likely forget as the hours all blended together. 

Pete’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he moved so quickly to grab it that he dropped it on the ground. When he flipped it over, it wasn’t the hospital’s contact information on the screen. 

It was an unknown number that he sadly knew too well. 

Pete declined the call. He thought about blocking the number, but he would just get a new one. At least this way Pete knew which number to ignore. 

He put his phone away, rubbing his temple for a moment. 

Hoping that he could get some sleep, Pete began to walk home. Before he could get close, though, the sky opened up and drenched him. 

Pete made half an effort to jog home, although there wasn’t a point. 

Kicking his soaked shoes off, Pete peeled himself out of his clothes and got under the shower spray. Sliding on a pair of boxers, he collapsed into his bed where he blessedly managed to get a few hours of unconsciousness. 

The next day, after searching for more job opportunities to keep himself busy more than anything, Pete grabbed something to eat from a street vendor and made his way to the hospital. 

Kinn had pulled some strings to get both Yaai and Pete special privileges. They let him in outside of visiting hours and made sure to give Yaai special attention as a patient. They kept her in the ICU, even though she could likely move to a regular room again already. 

Pete appreciated it, more than he could put into words. 

“Morning,” Pete greeted his grandmother. She looked pallid. 

“Morning, Doodle. I had a new visitor yesterday.”

“Oh, yeah?” Pete asked, grabbing her a warm blanket from the hall cabinet before hurrying back into her room. “A different nurse?”

“No. A very handsome young man.”

Pete smirked. “You looking to land yourself a man?”

Yaai had to know Pete was teasing, but she scoffed. “You know there was only one man for me.”

“I know,” Pete granted. 

“This one was too young for me, besides.”

Pete finished tucking the blanket around her and cocked an eyebrow. 

“Who was this guy?”

“You know, I didn’t actually get his name. But he asked about you.”

“Me?” Pete’s hands landed on his hips as he wondered just who she could be talking about. Unless it was Arm. He had been checking in on Pete, or at least trying to. Perhaps he got so worried he came straight to Yaai. 

“He told me something crazy. Said he had a robot who looked like you.”

Pete’s hands shook so badly he dropped the remote as he tried to put on the television for Yaai. 

It wasn’t-

It couldn’t have been. 

“My ex, probably. Arm. I’ll tell you all about it later, Yaai. It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere today.”

Pete frowned at her, showing off his dimple. He could be stubborn, but it was too much for him to handle when he saw where he got that trait from. 

“You’re supposed to be resting. Your doctor should be in today to see if there are any updates.”

There was a knock on the door, and Pete turned, expecting to see one of the familiar nurses. 

Instead, a young man slipped inside, wearing dark sunglasses, and a face mask. 

“Oh,” he said, and Pete’s blood ran cold. He knew that voice, and it wasn’t Arm. He recognized who he was, even covered up. 

Taking off the shades, Vegas slipped his mask down as he said, “You must be Pete.”

Everything went black as Pete fainted. 

Chapter Text

Vegas rushed forward as soon as he saw Pete’s eyes roll back in his head, and luckily managed to catch him before he could crack his skull on the floor.

“Pete?” Vegas called, brushing his long bangs even more to the side to try and get a better look at him. He was burning up. 

Moments later, a nurse rushed in, brought by Yaai’s call button. 

Pete was already moving again, blinking rapidly as he tried to sit up. 

“Easy,” Vegas said. With the nurse’s help, they got Pete to sit on the small sofa in the room. A deep frown pinched Vegas’s face as he gave the nurse room to take Pete’s vitals. Needing something to do, Vegas wet a paper towel in the attached bathroom with cool water. 

“Your blood pressure is a little low, and you’ve got a fever. I’ll have to take you to another room so you don’t give anything to our patient, in case you’re contagious.”

Pete nodded, flashing his grandmother a guilty look. 

“Sorry, Yaai. I got caught in the rain last night.”

“Go get looked after.”

Then, Yaai turned to Vegas. 

“Could I trouble you to look after my grandson?”

“No, Yaai,” Pete protested under his breath, but Vegas was already nodding. 

“I’ll take care of him,” Vegas promised. 

As soon as they got into the hallway, Pete hung his head. 

“I’m sorry for troubling you, but I’m fine, really.”

Vegas frowned, stepping closer. Once he caught Pete’s gaze again, he slowly wrapped the cool paper towel around the back of Pete’s neck. 

“Don’t make me break a promise to an old woman. Let me at least take you to the cafeteria to get some soup.”

Pete nodded reluctantly, glancing back toward his grandmother’s room. 

“I won’t take no for an answer,” Vegas added with a smile. “I’m Vegas, by the way. Korawit Theerapanyakul.”

“Vegas,” Pete repeated, and Vegas’s stomach flipped a little. He even sounded just like him. 

“And you’re Pete. Your grandmother said.”

“Yeah, uh,” Pete replied, shifting the cool cloth. “Phongsakorn Saengtham.”

Vegas repeated the same under his breath. He liked the way it sounded. Even more, he liked that the color was returning to Pete’s face. 

“Let’s get you that soup.”

Vegas almost reached for his arm, but stopped himself. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t his Pete. His Pete was at home, likely sitting on the couch awaiting direction. 

“You’re staring,” Pete muttered as they sat at a small table with steaming bowls of soup. 

“Sorry,” Vegas said quickly. “You, uh, look like someone I know.”

Pete was quiet. He had started blowing on his soup to cool it enough to eat, and Vegas felt the need to fill the silence. 

“What happened?”

“With what?”

“Did you get into a fight or something?”

Vegas gestured to Pete’s busted lip. He also seemed to have a light bruise on his cheek, but Vegas couldn’t see it clearly enough to be sure. 

“Oh,” Pete said, tapping his lip with a wince. “My friend and I spar. You should see his face.”

“You fight?”

“Boxing mostly.”

“Boxing. Very cool. Do you do it as a hobby, or…”

Pete dropped his spoon into his bowl with a small splash. 

“Look, I’m really not sure what you want from me. How do you know Yaai?”

Vegas lowered his gaze, letting his spoon drag through his own soup. 

“I was just curious about you. My story sounds insane, and I know you aren’t feeling well.”

“I’m well enough to listen.”

Pete shoved soup into his mouth, then waved a hand over his mouth as he breathed with his mouth open. 

Vegas handed him a napkin, cocking his head to the side as he watched Pete struggle to swallow the hot soup. He was so familiar, yet so different. 

“You used to date a guy named Arm, right?”

Pete rolled his eyes, but nodded. “We went on dates, yeah.”

“He said the same thing, actually. That you’d put it that way. Well, he works for my cousin. Have you heard of Theerapanyakul Industries?”

“I’m familiar.”

Vegas leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Yeah, okay. So Arm… This is the part that sounds crazy–and you can’t breathe a word of this to anyone–but Arm made an advanced android based on your likeness.”

Pete sighed, meeting Vegas’s gaze.

“It’s just,” Vegas said, shifting in his seat. He had been expecting much more of a reaction, for sure, but perhaps Pete was still focused on the third degree burns he had likely gotten from the soup. Leaning over a little more, he said, “He had to be reset recently, and I found out they based him on a model, on you, and I wanted to meet you.”

“And now we’ve met.”

Pete stood up, moving to grab his tray to leave, but Vegas grabbed his wrist first. 

“I’m sorry,” Vegas blurted. “My brother says I’m still not very socialized. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’m still learning how to talk to people. But I was hoping that maybe you and I could be friends?”

“Why?” Pete asked, sounding exhausted beyond measure. 

Vegas’s mouth hung open for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. What could he say?

You remind me of someone I feel like I’ve lost, even though he’s still right there?

That would sound even crazier. 

“You just sound like an interesting person. Your grandmother spoke very highly of you.”

“Yeah,” Pete scoffed. “Well, she’s biased. I know how I look, but I’m not that nice. I’m selfish. My fucking life is a mess. I’ve been trying to find a job, but everyone wants to replace what I do with soulless, generative A.I., so I don’t think I have much of a future. I’m just a piece of shit, Vegas. I can’t be your savior. I can’t be a shiny new toy for you to play with until you’re bored.”

With that, Pete was gone.

In a daze, Vegas met Nop outside. 

“Are you okay, Khun Vegas? I’ve been waiting.”

“Yeah,” Vegas mumbled. “Sorry.”

As they made their way home, Vegas couldn’t stop thinking about Pete. This Pete. 

“Nop? Can you drop me off at the hospital again tomorrow?”

*****

Pete hadn’t meant to blow up at Vegas, but he was sore, his head hurt, and he hadn’t expected to see him appear out of nowhere like that. At least Vegas had assumed they were strangers to one another. 

As Pete collapsed onto his bed, part of him regretted that the lie was still going. He still felt guilty, and this felt like lying to Vegas all over again. 

But Kinn had said that Vegas was doing his best to cope with PET3. He was at least functioning, which was more than Pete could say for himself. Vegas was moving on, and Pete didn’t want to jeopardize that. 

Shutting his brain off, Pete burrowed under the blankets. His fever broke later that afternoon, and he felt much better by the next day. Still, he waited until the evening to visit Yaai, wearing a face mask to be safe. 

She greeted him with a strained smile, which made Pete anxious about how she was doing. The doctors had warned that they didn’t know how much time she had left, and Pete was constantly on edge. 

“That young man was here again. You missed him.”

“He was?”

That surprised Pete. He thought surely he had scared Vegas off. Unless he just came to see Yaai to be polite, and was avoiding Pete. 

“He’s very sweet. He brought those flowers from his garden.”

Pete had noticed the bouquet, but had thought Kinn and Porsche had sent it. 

“He is,” Pete agreed. “He’s kind. I think he’s wonderful.”

“He’s the one you’re stuck on, isn’t he?”

Pete gaped. “Yaai-”

“I know you, Pete. You don’t just faint over any boy.”

“I was sick.”

“Lovesick. Now, tell me all about it.”

Pete sighed, shifting his chair closer. With a shaky breath, he let it all spill out. He told her about the NDA, about the job. He told her about how he and Vegas connected so strongly. He started crying when he told her how much he loved Vegas, but how Vegas now thought he was someone else.

“I can’t tell him, Yaai.”

“I think he’s stronger than you give him credit for.” Yaai patted Pete’s head, sighing. “And it sounds like he never fell in love with a robot, Pete. He fell in love with you. Let him get to know the real you–the full you–and I’m sure he’ll fall even more in love.”

“But I lied to him. I can never forgive myself for that.”

Yaai was quiet for a moment. 

When Pete wiped his eyes, she said, “The time will come. The truth will out. Then, it won’t be up to you to forgive yourself or not, though I still hope you do one day. But it’ll be up to him to forgive you.”

Pete felt drained as he walked home, but he felt a little better, confessing everything to Yaai.

The next day, Pete opened the door to Yaai’s room to find his usual seat already occupied. 

“Oh,” Vegas said. “Hi, Pete.”

“What are you doing here?” Pete asked. 

“Heoi,” Yaai sighed. “You would think I raised him with no manners. Have a seat, Pete. Vegas and I were just talking about you.”

Feeling both anxious and slightly annoyed, Pete slumped down on the sofa. Just then, a nurse came in to give Yaai some medicine, so Vegas joined Pete to get out of the way. 

“Mind if I sit?” Vegas asked. 

“It’s your couch, right?”

Vegas cocked an eyebrow, so Pete shifted over and said, “Theerapanyakul. You own the hospital.”

“Oh,” Vegas said. “My uncle does, technically. And my cousin. My father pretty much drained my inheritance, so I have to rely on my family a lot. At least my cousin lets me work to earn my keep. I hate owing people.”

“Is that why you want to be my friend? Because it feels like you owe me or something?”

“No,” Vegas said quickly. “I’m trying to get close to you for purely selfish reasons.”

When Pete looked at him, surprised, Vegas wore that familiar smirk of his, though it was tinged with sadness. 

“I know you’re not him,” Vegas continued. “But I feel like I’ve lost him, and you’re the closest I can get to getting him back. But it’s not just that. You interest me, Pete. You’re not what I expected, but the more I learn about you, the more I want to know. I feel like maybe we’re a little similar, you and I.”

The nurse was gone, but when Pete looked at Yaai again, her eyes were closed, a soft smile on her lips the only indication she was still awake. 

“So,” Vegas said, scooting a little closer. “Yaai said you were a graphic designer. Can I see some of your work?”

And so, against his better judgment, Pete spent the next hour talking with Vegas while Yaai pretended to sleep so she could keep eavesdropping. 

“I should go,” Vegas said eventually. “I’ve taken up enough of your time today. But you’re looking much better today, Pete. I’m glad.”

“Thanks,” Pete replied. He watched Vegas leave, stopping himself from asking if he would see him again. Part of him felt like Vegas would eventually get bored, once it clicked that Pete wasn’t the sweet, obedient droid he had at home. There would come a day when Vegas would see more differences than similarities, and he would choose the android. 

“I see why Macau is such a good boy,” Yaai said suddenly. “He takes after his brother. That boy still comes to see me, you know.”

Pete sighed. He missed Macau. 

“They’re pretty great,” Pete admitted. “But Vegas probably won’t be back.”

Yaai gave a sly smile as Pete helped her up to use the restroom. 

“We’ll see.”

*****

Vegas went back the next day, and the day after that. Yaai always welcomed him with a smile, and Pete seemed less irritated by his presence. 

Seeing him made Vegas’s heart flip, but he had to remind himself he wasn’t his Pete. He still spent his evenings with PET3, who would read to him while he made dinner, or sit in a chair nearby while Vegas worked in his office. Sometimes they took a stroll in the garden. Their interactions felt stiff and formal now, and Vegas found himself drawn against his will to the messy realness of the other Pete. 

Vegas still slept in Pete’s room. 

His heart still ached for Pete. He would never stop loving him, he was sure, but there was nowhere for that love to go. Vegas could only swallow it down. 

It hurt too much to really even touch PET3, so Vegas kept to giving him a simple pat on the head each evening before sending him off with Arm and Pol. 

His house felt haunted, but Yaai’s hospital room was lively. Vegas found himself smiling as he looked forward to each visit. 

“Go fish,” Yaai said, peering over her cards.

Vegas sighed, exasperated, and drew another brightly colored card. When he glanced over at Pete, he sucked in a breath. There, at the corner of Pete’s mouth, was the hint of a dimple. 

“So detailed,” Vegas mumbled to himself. The more he was around Pete, the more in awe he was of how Arm managed to capture his likeness so well. 

“Hmm?” Pete asked, the dimple disappearing. 

“I said it’s your turn.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Pete grumbled. “So impatient.”

Vegas was really starting to enjoy annoying Pete, too. That was something he hadn’t anticipated. Pete didn’t know that he was losing his sight. He didn’t coddle Vegas in any way, letting him just be himself for once, without that hanging over his head. 

Yaai won, as always, and Pete got up to stretch his legs. 

“Want to get a coffee with me?” Vegas asked, sidling up next to him.

Pete gave him an assessing look, but he nodded. 

As they wound through the halls, Vegas kept up the conversation. 

“So Yaai raised you since you were young?”

Pete shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Since early high school.”

Vegas knew it was considered rude to pry, but he wanted to know more about Pete. He wanted to know what all had shaped him into the kind of man someone would design a caretaking android after. 

“Are your parents gone?”

“Just Mae. When I was younger. No, I finally left home when Pa broke my collarbone.”

Vegas stopped in his tracks, shocked at Pete’s casual tone. 

“He beat you?”

“Pretty much daily,” Pete said, grabbing Vegas’s elbow to pull him out of the way of a gurney rolling by. “Broke a few fingers, broke my arm once. Gave me at least two concussions. I was small, malnourished on top of it, and my collarbone snapped like a twig.”

“Jesus,” Vegas muttered. “I’m sorry. My pa used to hit me, too. Screamed more than anything, but he never broke anything.”

“Lucky you?” Pete offered with a darkly humorous smile on his face. “Did you know your grandparents?”

Vegas shook his head, realizing that Pete was still holding his elbow loosely as they walked. 

“Agong died when I was in middle school. But he wasn’t nice like your yaai. He was a cold man.”

“Sorry,” Pete said, then said it again as he released his hold on Vegas. 

Vegas was tempted to tell Pete that his sight was bad, just for an excuse to take Pete’s arm again, but he said nothing.

They ordered coffee, then sat at a table to wait. 

“I’m sorry,” Pete said once again. “I shouldn’t have just trauma dumped on you like that. You don’t even know me.”

Lowering his gaze, Vegas said, “Maybe I don’t know you. But I’d like to. I’d… Maybe this is crazy, but I really would like us to be close.”

“Vegas,” Pete said, his tone cold. When Vegas met his eyes again, he said, “I won’t be a substitute for something you lost.”

“No,” Vegas said quickly. “God, no. I didn’t mean it like that. Look…” Vegas shifted closer, running a hand through his hair. “I lost something I can’t get back. Ever. But I still treasure it. I love him, Pete. I know it sounds crazy, and I’m sure you have opinions about it, but I love him. Even though he’s different now after they reset him. I’m not trying to replace him. I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I’m here. I mean, at first, yeah. I was curious. But I just think you’re an interesting person, Pete. One I’d like to keep getting to know. As a friend. My heart already belongs to someone else.”

Pete’s eyes flickered away as he swallowed. 

“Machines can’t love, Vegas.”

“He loved me,” Vegas bit back. “I know he did. I felt it. I still feel it, even if it’s only in my memories now.”

For a long moment, Pete just stared at him until they heard their orders being called.

There was a slightly uncomfortable tension between them as they sipped their coffee, but not even that kept Vegas from coming back again the next day. 

They talked about school, with Vegas asking so many questions about what university was like, since he stopped attending. They talked about boxing, and Vegas indicated he would be interested in learning a thing or two from Pete one day. Pete didn’t seem entirely opposed. They talked about music, about art, about movies. They talked about the fucking weather. 

Then, one afternoon, Vegas showed up to find Yaai’s bed empty. He would have thought he had the wrong room, but Pete was there, packing up a bag.

“Pete?”

When Pete looked up, his eyes were red-rimmed. 

The air left Vegas as he crossed the distance between them to pull Pete into his arms. 

Pete shook with quiet sobs, and Vegas didn’t know what to do, so he just held him. 

With a ragged breath, Pete pulled away. 

His voice trembled as he explained, “She, um, the hospital called me. She, uh, she went down fast. I almost didn’t make it on time.” Pete ran a hand under his nose as he took a deep breath. “They made sure she wasn’t in any pain.”

“I’m so sorry, Pete,” Vegas said, reaching to stroke Pete’s head. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, uh, I just need to finish collecting her things so the room is free. But I can’t find her wedding ring. I know she had it.”

“We’ll find it,” Vegas promised. “I’ll help.”

Pete stared at him, his lip trembling. 

“Thank you, Vegas. Thank you for being here.” 

“Of course.” 

“It means so much more than you can ever know.”

Vegas felt like his heart was breaking, being a helpless observer to Pete’s pain. As he gave Pete’s shoulder a firm squeeze, Vegas prayed his eyes would work well enough to find Yaai’s wedding ring. 

“Where is the last place she might have had it?” Vegas asked, and together they checked the room from top to bottom. 

“Found it,” Vegas said to himself. It had been in the cup in the bathroom with her toothbrush. She must have taken it off to shower. 

As he turned around, though, Vegas heard a harsh voice come from the room, followed by the unmistakable sound of a palm hitting skin. 

When he shot out of the bathroom, Vegas saw an older man raising a fist to Pete, who flinched. Seeing red, Vegas reacted. He shoved the man away from Pete, slamming him up against the built-in wardrobe. 

The man struggled against him, hissing, “Who the hell are you?”

“Pete’s friend. Did you fucking hit him?”

The man sneered in Pete’s direction. 

“Useless fucker. That money is mine, you little shit!”

“For the last time. She didn’t have any.”

“Bullshit! How did she afford this room, then?”

Wanting the man’s attention off of Pete, Vegas snarled, “I paid for it. The name on the fucking hospital is mine, so unless you leave this second and never show your face to Pete again, you won’t have a face much longer. You’ll be stuck here as a patient. Or possibly a cadaver.”

Vegas watched as the man scoffed, yanking his shirt out of Vegas’s hold. As he left the room, he turned around to say, “Don’t ever ask me for anything.”

“He won’t have to,” Vegas snapped back. 

The door shut, and Pete dropped into a crouch, curling around himself. Vegas approached slowly, not wanting to spook him, and dropped down beside him. 

“I take it that was your pa?”

Pete only nodded, his face still buried in his arms. 

“He’s gone,” Vegas promised. “Can I see your face?”

With a sigh, Pete turned his face up, though he averted his gaze. 

Vegas leaned as close as he dared. Pete’s face had a red print on it, but he didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere. 

“Yep,” Vegas said. “Still pretty.”

Pete snorted, laughing dryly as he finally looked at Vegas. 

Gently, Vegas said, “I found her ring.”

Closing his eyes, Pete whispered, “Thank you.”

Vegas handed the ring over, and Pete took it gingerly. He stood slowly, taking Vegas’s offered hand, and put the ring into a pocket of the bag. 

“I need a drink,” Pete announced, and Vegas agreed.