Storms and craters

Epilogue

Tiredly leaning his hot forehead against the cool glass of the bus window, Vegas - for the first time in several hours - exhales and smiles. A little more and he will come back home, where he will be greeted by the sweetest smile. Of course, it would have been faster by car, but he's really tired and mentally grateful for the opportunity to get home by the companies transport. In the meantime, he can stay like this, going over the memories of the last months. Vegas shakes his head and grins: his indignant Pete is in front of his eyes, who has just found out what his boyfriend's new job is.

"You're not going anywhere! I won't let you!" Pete stands blocking the exit from their apartment, "yes, don't look at me like that! I won't let you go. Period. What? Having found my special person and now lose him again? Fuck you!"

"Why 'lose'? People have been working there all their lives. In my previous service, I had more chances to die."

"No!"

"Pete," Vegas checks the car keys and of course doesn't find them, I see. And when did you just have time? Return the keys, Pete."

Splinter stubbornly shakes his head.

"Pete," Vegas hugs his rebellious little wolf cub anyway, "you'll be waiting for me, won't you?"

"Uh—huh," they mumble into his neck.

"Then nothing will happen to me. I will definitely come back to you, my wolfey."

Pete unclenches his fist, and Vegas takes the keys.

"You're my skilled slick."

"If it weren't for my skill, we'd both be dead by now. Maybe not just us."

Now Vegas knows that Pete managed to slip beacons to those who accompanied him to the place. That's how Kinn managed to track them down.

He kisses his boy, hugs him tightly once more and leaves.

The traffic light switches colors. And Vegas switches the memories.

They are back in those places from their shared past. That day Vegas took him to visit little Build's house. Pete refused to come in at the last moment, but Vegas insisted. He remembers how he introduced him to the elderly owners of the house, how unsuspecting relatives sat and chatted about the most mundane things, how his grandmother brought a treat — massaman, and Pete suddenly exclaimed:

"Wow! And as a kid I loved it with coconut sauce!"

Probably, he himself did not realize that he remembered something important, perhaps a very small detail, but it made the elderly woman smile anxiously, apologize to the guests and leave them for a while. In the evening, lying in the room of the same hotel, Pete, nervously fidgeting in his arms, said:

"I don't understand... did I say something wrong?"

"It's all right. It's just that Build really liked this dish with coconut sauce."

"Hmm, it's weird… he didn't tell me that. I don't really understand where this memory comes from. And yet... you know, for some reason I remember his appearance worse and worse, he seems to blur… shouldn't it be like that, Vegas?"

"Pete," Vegas presses the cheek to his with a smile, "everything is as it should be, believe me... no questions asked, just trust me, okay?"

Everything goes back to normal. And Vegas is sure that Pete will "remember" all. And he will be there to support.

The crossroad. A lot of people.

And no one cares about each other.

Vegas replays in his head their last meeting with Kinn. He assumed that little Build was not the only victim of a well-established case of child trafficking and their subsequent use for criminal purposes. Kinn assured him that 'they are already being dealt with. But it is still bitter for him to realize that no one has done this before.

The bus is parked on the side of the road to drop off employees from that residential area. Vegas looks up: the light is on in the kitchen. Even in the stairwell, he can smell the burnt meat. He opens the door, and smoke falls on him.

"Pete!.."

With a hard cough, he runs to the kitchen, where, among the dissipating dirty-gray clouds, he notices Splinter sitting on the floor and dejectedly looking at a thermobud with burnt remains of some poultry. The one that, apparently, was supposed to be part of a festive dinner in honor of the first full salary of Vegas in a new place.

"Well."

Vegas clears his throat once more, opens the window wider and sinks to the floor next to his would-be cook:

"Did the fireman Teerpanyakun arrive too late?"

Pete lets out a laugh, but it's completely joyless:

"It's not enough for you to have fires at work... I add them to you at home…"

Vegas hugs his boyfriend and pulls his head to the shoulder:

"Was it supposed to be a Peking-style duck?"

"Yeah… I left the house for twenty minutes for a beer, but — apparently — turned on the oven too much… So now we have Thai-style coals for dinner."

Vegas grins, and Pete mumbles into his shoulder:

"I'm sorry… I really wanted to please you. But it didn't work out."

He suddenly begins to breathe heavily, as before sobbing. Then Vegas rubs his cheek against his cheek and says:

"No one has canceled the restaurant delivery yet, right?"

"Yeah."

Vegas tilts his head and stretches his lips, which makes Splinter very funny. The latter sniffs and mutters:

"Just my treat, okay?"

"Uh... and where did you get the money from? You've spent it recently, though."

On the weekend they were at the mall, where Pete bought them new clothes and some little things for the house with his honestly earned pickup truck repairs.

"Well, not all," whistling, Pete looks around the ceiling, "I've squirrelled a little. In short, it is not discussed. Come on, get up and take a shower. In the meantime, I'll make an order and clean up everything here."

Already at the door he is called:

"Vegas!"

"What?"

Pete looks straight ahead and smiles:

"I'm proud of you. But still... be careful."

"I will be," Vegas nods with an answering smile.

After dinner and a few bottles of beer for two, they lie without a blanket on the couch covered with a fresh sheet. Leaning the back of his head against his chest, Pete does what he loves: joins their palms, finger by finger. The fingers of Vegas' free hand are woven into Splinter's hair, just as he weaves good dreams into the no longer lonely nights of Vegas. He knows that there is no one in the world he trusts more; there is no one else who could grab him by the shoulders and save him from falling into the abyss of life, who would open that prison cell created from losses and regrets about the past. Without this little wolf cub, he would have stayed in it forever. And therefore, without analysing, without thinking about the consequences, he himself intertwines their fingers and whispers something softly to the temple. Pete freezes, and then looks up at him, quickly kisses his chin and whispers back:

"Honestly?"

Vegas grins, closes his eyes, and nods slowly. Then Pete turns around, but does not uncouple their hands. He giggles, tickling his collarbones with his lips, and softly says:

"Me too."

And yet, despite his fear of being in the middle of a lonely desert of craters, or finding himself in the middle of a merciless storm because of one wrong turn, at least once in his life, but Vegas allowed himself to step into the unknown, finding an unbreakable connection with only one incredible boy. The closest to his heart.

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