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Vegas fingers combed through Pete's jet black hair smoothly, gripping a handful by the roots and moshing his head down as a long groan escaped his lips. Pete had made himself comfortable between Vegas' legs a while ago, sitting in the spacious ground that separated the back row of seats to the second that faced their way, and of course, the screen that was the only barrier between them and the chauffeur. Vegas' deep, breathy groans weren't helped by the fact that Pete had started using his tongue as an accessory. Fuck, Pete looked like such a slut with his mouth full, going to work as he should. Vegas knew they didn't have much longer since the carried was only about twenty minutes, and they'd spent the first few minutes chatting, so he had to finish quick and couldn't enjoy it to it's full extent, but then again, there was no chance in heaven this wouldn't happen again. Next time he'd face-fuck Pete so hard he'd lose his breath. Noticing the turn of the street, Vegas groaned, pulling at Pete's hair again to see his big puppy eyes before he felt the knot in his abdomen release and the pressure in his stomach disappear with a wave of adrenaline and ecstasy. Pete swallowed almost every drop, a smirk on his face and a light rose tint to his cheeks as he licked his lips and sat back down on the leather seat beside Vegas who had taken the time to zip his pants back up and fix his belt. Pete took a moment to fix his hair, and when the car stopped, he wiped his lips one last time before he opened the door and hopped out, pretending as if nothing had happened at all. This brat really... Vegas took a moment longer to collect himself before taking a step out of the car and feeling his legs nearly give out beneath him. So it was his turn now, eh? Usually it was Pete who was limping, but after that rollercoaster, Vegas knew he'd need a moment to regain full control of his legs that seemed to have gone to Jello the second he'd cum.

"Venice is back safely, the baby sitter is still here too. Mr. Macau has returned too, but he headed right to bed." The house guard said, Whom Vegas almost entirely ignored beyond just a nod. Macau returned early and went right to bed? That was odd... Usually that boy was boiling with energy. His friends had probably fed him too much alcohol these past few days and he needed a break form the constant hangover. Vegas had been there once upon a time as well, though he didn't have any real friends- people only hung out with him because he was rich and had drugs. What more do kids that age want, right? The second he and Pete stepped inside, they heard Venice giggling to himself, running around with a toy gun in his hand making sound effects and other noises Vegas wasn't quite sure where inspired by. He also noticed the boy now had a selection of fake tattoos on his arms and one on his face.

"Daddy! Pappa! Look! I'm a cool bad guy now, I've got tattoos" the boy said excitedly, rushing over to show off every last drawing, even if it was of a princess or a flower or a nice cat. "I thought you wanted to be a hero like your daddy?" Pete asked, surprised to see how excited Venice was about playing the 'bad guy'. You didn't often see a kid like that. "No! The bad guys are much cooler!" Venice said firmly, tugging at Vegas' sleeve gently. "Can't you be a villain instead? If you were the Villain, then you'd never be defeated. You beat up bad guys already, don't you?" Maybe this kid really was his brother. He seemed like a part of the family, that much was certain. Vegas chuckled, ruffling the boys hair gently with a smile. "Everyone's a bad guy to someone, right? To those people, I already am the bad guy"

"Oh my" Vegas perked up, hearing the voice of a young woman. The girl who'd babysit Venice. She was dressed quite modestly, but Vegas knew immediately this wouldn't end well. Not only was she a high schooler, but she practically flew to his side the second she saw him. How annoying. Pete was annoyed as well, seeing how touchy shed suddenly become- grabbing Vegas' arm and squeezing it gently. The man, however, didn't bother to out up with it one bit, yanking his arm away and walking to sit down in the sofa, having a guard pour him a glass of whiskey. Pete smiled passive aggressively at her, holding Venice close as he fixed the hair that his boyfriend had messed up. "Thank you for taking care of Vegas. Well let you know when we go out for a date again." Pete smiled, reaching for his wallet and paying her a generous tip before having a guard escort her out and the fake smile dropped instantly, turning to a bitter frown which stayed even as he went to sit down beside Vegas with Venice in his lap.

Vegas noticed the look immediately, chuckling to himself and stroking a strand of hair out of Pete's face. "Are you grumpy now?" Pete just nodded, pouting slightly as he watched Venice play, occasionally looking up at the pair with a confused but not questioning look. He didn't care too much as he was too busy pretending to shoot the guards standing at the front door. "Awe, baby" Vegas cooed, planting a solid peck on the dimple of Pete's cheek. "But you were so pleased a moment ago" he whispered, leaning in to kiss Pete's neck gently. "Weren't you?"

At this point, if Pete ever got the chance to and was angry enough to actually do it, he really would beat the shit out of Vegas. A good hit in the head should fix all the dirty thoughts constantly flooding his mind. It should fix something up there at least, there wasn't much left to break. "I'm starting to think you need a muzzle" Pete huffed, still unhappy with what just happened. Obviously Vegas wouldn't have done anything with her, she was a teen and a girl, but it still made Pete mad seeing someone else touch Vegas. Maybe he was possessive too? At least more than he thought he was. "Actually..." Vegas started, the evil in his eyes sparkling mischief once again.

"I think you'd look good in one"

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