I Want to Be the Place You Call Home (A VegasPete Omegaverse)

Chapter Eight

During the third week, Kan came back to check on them. He brought them curry and covered his nose with his ascot, complaining loudly about the smell of their pheromones.

    "Glad to see you took me seriously and didn't kill each other yet."

    Vegas glared but bit his tongue.

    "Well, Pete. How was he? I bet he's a slut, just like his mother was."

    Vegas lunged forward, but Pete grabbed him, holding him back.

    "Pathetic," Kan hissed. 

    "What do you want from us?" Pete asked, sitting on the couch.

    "I told you. I want you to mate my worthless son so he can bear the Alpha I deserve. Someone has to take over the family business, and I'll let it be an Omega over my dead body."

    That can be arranged, both Vegas and Pete thought simultaneously.

    "Knock him up, and I'll let you out of here. I will let your precious family members live and Kinn never needs to learn your secret."

    Pete remembered how Kan had said he would kill him either way, but he didn't say anything. He only hoped to keep Mae and Yaai alive for as long as possible. He had no hopes for himself. Perhaps, if he just did what Kan wanted, Vegas and Macau could live, too.

    "Get to work," Kan said before seeing himself out with his men.

    "This is so beyond fucked," Vegas said, sitting down next to Pete. Pete nodded and picked up his curry to eat. It tasted amazing. He hadn't had street food in weeks. They had groceries and supplies brought to them, but it wasn't the same.

    Pete moaned.

    "Easy, there. I might start getting jealous."

    "Of what? You and I are just fucking around. Food, on the other hand, is forever."

    Vegas rolled his eyes but didn't argue. They finished eating and Pete went to take a nap while Vegas read a book on the couch. They needed to hurry up and come up with a plan that wouldn't endanger anyone, but they needed to get their hormones fully under control first. Every few days it was like they were having small flare-ups. At one point, Pete thought his Rut started and had panicked until Vegas jerked him off in the shower and he calmed down.

    As he read, Vegas was finding it harder and harder to concentrate on the words. He kept thinking about Pete, picturing him on the bed, grinding against a pillow for relief, or humping Vegas's leg as he slept. Just like a fucking animal.

    I bet he's touching himself right now.

    Vegas was startled to find he was palming himself through his pants. He was so hot. He was wearing too many clothes.

    Fuck.

    Vegas looked at the empty takeout containers. They had been so stupid. They would have been lucky if Kan had just poisoned them, but he wanted to use them first.

    "Pete!" Vegas called out, hurrying to the bedroom. "Pete, the fucking food was spiked."

    Vegas opened the door to find Pete well on his way to being fully undressed.

    "I figured that out already. We trained for this."

    "So did we. I fucking hate aphrodisiacs."

    "What do we do now?"

    Vegas choked back a frustrated laugh. Pete was standing, clearly aroused, in just his boxers, with his hair a mess from how he yanked his shirt off.