Work Text:
Vegas stared at the reflection of his naked upper body in the mirror. His body was covered in colorful bruises and cuts from various fights and beatings he had received from his father over the last days. His gaze pierced deep into his own dark eyes. The light of the candles around him let dark shadows dance over his body. He took a drag of his cigarette, making his eyes flash sinister while inhaling the smoke deeply into his lungs before throwing his head back and blowing the smoke in the air.
He let his finger trail over the bruises on his face where Kinn had hit him after catching him kissing Porsche without consent. What was it about Porsche that attracted him anyway? He didn’t know why he had done that. Was it to spite Kinn? Or was he really intrigued by Porsche? No. Maybe at first. Who knows... It didn’t matter everything he loved was taken from him anyway his family made sure of that.
He pressed his index and middle finger hard against his split lip reopening the wound, painting his lips red. On the outside, he seemed cold and collected, but on the inside, he was seething with rage, his sanity hanging by a thread. He clenched his fists by his side, Kinn’s angry voice
still
booming in his head when he dragged him away from Porsche:
Do you see the ring on my finger?!
Breathing hard through his nose Vegas tried to get his anger in check.
Yes, he had seen that fucking ring. Fuck Kinn! Fuck the main family! Fuck his whole family! Fuck everybody in his life for making it a living hell. Fuck everybody for never showing him any kindness and love.
Who could love a monster like him?
He trailed some of the cuts and bruises on his chest with his fingers. Now and then he pressed his fingers hard against them to feel the pain. To feel anything. But he felt nothing more than resentment.
He angrily punched his fist against the cold stone wall letting out a loud growl. And again. And again. And again. Until his throat hurt, blood seeping slowly from the cuts on his hands. Not caring that he got blood on the wall. He didn’t feel the pain anymore. Someone who didn’t exist had no feelings. He was so used to the pain and suffering and nobody caring. What was he even born for? For his father, he was nothing but a useless tool who couldn’t do things right. He didn’t even see him as a son. Why did his father resent him so much? How was he responsible for his father’s mistakes and shortcomings in regard to the main family? Why didn’t his father handle the business stuff by himself if he wasn’t satisfied with what Vegas was doing? Or even trusting him. But what did he know? He was useless. Vegas snorted. What a joke.
Still breathing heavily from his outburst a few seconds ago he took a last draw of his cigarette before stumping it in the ashtray. He braced his arms on his desk, head hanging low between his arms. Tense he poured himself a glass of red wine in one of his big glasses standing on his desk, swallowing the liquid in one go. He looked up at his reflection. There was no longer a demon looking back at him but a tired, broken young man. Shivering. Tears were threatening to fall down his cheeks. Vegas sobbed on the verge of breaking down. He tilted his head up to prevent his tears from falling and bit his lip to no avail. He sank to the floor and buried his fingers in his hair, pulling at the strands harshly while sobbing. Vegas curled up in a ball, his head between his knees. He didn’t know what he was feeling anymore. His head felt hazy. He reached for the open wine bottle still standing on his desk, drinking straight from it. He didn’t know for how long he cried. He felt sick from all the alcohol he had drunk this night. He rubbed a hand over his face, wincing when the cuts on his hand were disturbed. What was he even doing? He pulled himself up nearly tumbling down again since he was too drunk to stand properly. He laughed bitterly. Right. He was a weak freak.
Small squeaks came from the cage standing on his desk making him look up at the cage. He dragged himself to the cage and crouched slightly so that he was at the same eye level as its inhabitants. The two little hedgehogs looked at him frightened.
“Sorry, buddies, did I scare you?” he asked them softly in English, putting a finger through the bars as to pet them, before switching back to Thai. “You must be hungry, aren’t you? Sorry, I was selfish and forgot you guys. Let me get you something to eat.“
Vegas shuffled slowly to where he had put the hedgehog’s food. The bag fist didn’t want to cooperate with his fumbling fingers, but when he finally got it open, he poured a good amount into the bowl and put it carefully in the cage. One of the two hedgehogs immediately went to the food. The other didn’t move, looking rather distressed.
“Hey, what’s wrong buddy?” Vegas asked the tiny creature. Did it get sick like their siblings who had already died? He felt a pang of guilt in his heart. He didn’t want them to die, they did nothing wrong. It was him who wasn’t good enough to take care of them. Why couldn’t he even take care of a pet? Frustrated Vegas kicked his foot hard against the nearest piece of furniture, ignoring the pain that shot through his toes. As their owner, it was his responsibility to feed them. Vegas sighed deeply. New tears welled up in his eyes, but he brushed them away before they could fall. Fuck!
Anger engulfed him again, making him see red. He balled his hands into fists. His fingernails sharply dug into his skin leaving small half moons and pressing his eyes shut. Suddenly he saw one of Kinn’s bodyguards before his eyes, smiling at him. Pete... Why did he suddenly think about the man and his stupid smiling face? The way he was looking at him all the time… No, it was because of the look in his eyes! What had the other seen in him?!
To be honest the bodyguard had always been polite to him and was constantly looking out for him, getting him away from Tankhun’s outbursts and wrath when he was at the main family’s compound. Not only that, the bodyguard had the nerve to come after him after Kinn had punched him in the bathroom. The man had caught up to him and asked if he was alright. Why had he done that? There was no reason to make sure he was alright. He was a head bodyguard of the main family after all. Was it because of the time he had spent spying on him? Or did the bodyguard simply have a death wish? He must have seen the anger in his eyes and that he had been moody. So why follow him? It went without saying that he had only given the man a death glare and bumped hard into his shoulder before making his exit. In a glass reflection, he had seen Pete rubbing his hurting shoulder and the dejected nearly sad look in his eyes. But he had paid it no mind, he had been too agitated otherwise he might have been thankful. Maybe.
At the realization, he was suddenly feeling sober again. There was also something else that wasn’t right and had stirred something in him. When he had tortured the Italian middleman and he had shown his results to the bodyguards they looked pale, disgusted, and sick to the stomach, but the look on Pete’s face was different. There was a glint in his eyes, it was kinda scary. There was something in his eyes he couldn’t put a name to. He had looked interested at the display of pain. He had the feeling there was hidden something dark under the guise of his smiles and his cheerful, bubbly demeanor. He wondered about the bodyguard’s ambitions, it made him want to consume him. Piece by piece. His whole soul and being. After all ambition without intelligence was like a bird without wings. The demon in him was hungry for power and bored of the mundane. The monster wanted the head bodyguard to succumb to his lust and greed. He wanted to free him from the gullible masses and make him his own.
Vegas sat down at the edge of his bed, still completely naked, deep in thoughts. The soft member between his legs stirred to live, hardening from the pictures of violence in his head. Vegas laughed viciously. It was going to be a feast for him. He would swallow him completely!
He let himself sink back into the cool sheets of his bed. His hands wandered over his body, coming to a halt shortly before where his happy trail began. No, he would wait. Oh, how he wanted to get to Pete and take him apart and make him suffer like he was suffering, but that had to wait a little longer, first he needed to destroy Kinn and then he could own Pete.
He had the perfect tool in store for his plan that nobody knew about, not even his father: Kinn’s old flame Tawan. Manipulating people to get what he want was what he was best at after all. He had wrapped naive, stupid Tawan around his fingers for years without Kinn being aware that his ex-boyfriend was still alive: He would make Kinn suffer. And then it was Pete’s turn. There will be no mercy for him, he would make him suffer until he is satisfied.