VegasPete : Trading Faces

2. First Impressions

"Hello" Vegas grumbles into the phone.

"I think we need to talk Khun Vegas" his own voice replied.

"Where are you?" Vegas asks.

"I am at the the minor family house Khun Vegas"

"Are you coming for the meeting today?"

"Yes?" Pete sounded confused.

"Don't tell anyone what's going on, especially my father. Come here and I'll meet you in the garden afterwards" Vegas ignored his confusion and just proceeded to order Pete around anyway.

"Understood Khun Vegas" Pete acknowledged. "Is there anything I need to bring to the meeting?"

"There are some files on the desk in my study, they should all be in the black binder. During the meeting just keep quiet unless they directly ask you something, If you fuck this up and embaress me I swear I'll make you regret it" Vegas warns him.

"Understood" Pete confirms, clearly trying to hide the nervousness in his voice.

Vegas hangs up the phone before Pete could say anything else.

-

So it was real. Pete had taken over his body and he was really stuck here like this. He tried to push the inconvenience of the situation to the back of his mind, it was just another thing he had to endure. He could do this, he wouldn't enjoy it, but he could put on a stoic face and tough it out.

Vegas threw the phone on the bed and went to change his clothes. He pulls open the wardrobe to see several neatly pressed bodyguard uniforms and a few casual clothes. Pete's personal clothes weren't that bad, by no means his taste, but not hideous. Although he knew he would have to put on the stupid uniform so he would blend in with the other dogs.

Vegas groaned, grabbing a shirt and pants and laying them on the bed.

He went to the bathroom. He was still in his wet clothes, having not bothered to change them from when he got thrown in the pool earlier that morning. He peeled the damp fabric from his skin and stepped into the warm shower.

It wasn't his body, he didn't really care if Pete got sick from staying in damp clothes all morning, hence why he hadn't changed until now. However after speaking to Pete and confirming that this was in fact very real, he realised that if he was stuck like this for a while then it would be him dealing with the consequences if Pete's body got sick, so he was now somewhat regretting that decision.

He let the warm water run over him, warming him up and relaxing his muscles. He grabbed some body wash and a sponge and began lathering Pete's body with it, determined to get rid of the faint smell of chlorine that had been pestering his nose all morning.

He looked down at his stomach, his gaze settling on Pete's abs. Although they looked soft, as he ran the sponge over them, he could tell he had some strong muscles hidden underneath. It was obvious Pete wasn't trying to develop a six pack but he had a strong core from all the bodyguard training.

He glanced at the black ink on his hip bone.

Interesting. Pete didn't seem like the type for this kind of tattoo. Vegas looked down, trying to read the words, which was not easy since he was in the shower and he was looking at them upside down.

No legacy is so rich as honesty

Vegas scoffs. "What a load of bullshit" he mutters to himself.

His gaze soon moved past his hip to his cock. He was shaved, which Vegas for some reason found surprising. The skin was smooth and while it was a reasonable size, it wasn't as big as his own. Vegas couldn't help but smirk at the thought. He took it in his hand and washed it.