VegasPete : Trading Faces

7. Revelations

"Do you want noodles?" Pete calls from the kitchen.

"Is that what you're planning on eating the whole time we're here?" Vegas stands up from where he was sitting on the couch and walks over to the kitchen with an amused smile.

Vegas finally gets a good look at Pete since he arrived a few minutes ago, his smirk drops.

"What happened?" Vegas asks seriously.

"Huh?" Pete looks up from where he was pouring the hot water into his bowl.

"Your face" Vegas reaches up to touch the cut forming on his cheek.

"Oh, that. Your dad didn't take my involvement with the kidnapping very well" Pete muttered.

"Go sit down over there" Vegas tells him as he nudged Pete out of the way and rummages through one of the cupboards.

Pete takes his bowl of noodles and sits down on the couch, trying to eat but wincing a little as he finally feels the pain in his jaw.

Eventually Vegas returns with a first aid kit.

"Thanks" Pete mutters, reaching out to take the box from him but Vegas just slaps his hand away.

Pete looks at him in confusion as Vegas starts disinfecting a swab and dabbing his cut with it. He watched as Vegas intently cleaned his wound, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

"Does it hurt?" Vegas asked.

"My jaw aches a little but otherwise, not really" he shrugs.

Vegas nods in understanding as he puts a dressing over it.

"Isn't this a bit excessive, it's only a small cut" Pete protests as Vegas finishes attaching the soft material to his face. The cut was tiny in comparison to the dressing that now, for some reason, covered almost his entire cheek.

"Hey. It's my face" Vegas challenges him, "I can do whatever I want"

Pete chuckles as he reaches for his bowl of food, but Vegas beats him to it, grabbing the bowl and helping himself to a mouthful of noodles.

"That was mine" Pete pouts.

"Correct. It was yours. Now it's mine" Vegas smiles.

Pete gives him an annoyed glare.

"I'll make you something better, I don't want you destroying my impeccable physique by eating junk food" Vegas informs him, standing up and taking the first aid box back to the kitchen along with his newly acquired bowl of noodles.

Pete rolls his eyes.

"Now what do you want to eat?" Vegas asks as he washes his hands in the sink in preparation.

Pete perked up, walking over to lean on the counter.

"Something spicy, like any kind of southern curry is fine" Pete grins excitedly.

"Not a chance" Vegas quickly shuts him down.

"Why?" Pete asks a small pout forming on his lips.

"My body can't handle spicy food. Unless you want to spend the majority of the night in the bathroom, you are having mild dishes only"

"You can't eat spicy food?" Pete asks in surprise.

"Yeah, I don't like the taste, and my stomach doesn't like it either."

Pete laughs to himself.

"What's so funny about that?" Vegas asks defensively.

"It makes sense to me now how Macau knew I wasn't you"