Tanned Leather & White Lace [+18]

2

Pete looked back and forth between the three men, and once again, all he could do was laugh like a dumb bastard, because anything is better than wanting to kill yourself right here, right now.

Pete stared at Khun Vegas, attempting to read the expression on his face, but there was still only that stupid smirk and those two dark, intense eyes full of something Pete didn't really have a word for—something unsettling, making him shiver again.

"Khun Vegas, I really, really appreciate the offer, I really do, sir. But the thing is... Well, the thing is that I am not... You know..."

Pete knows Khun Vegas likes men; everyone in the city knows Khun Vegas likes men. He never hid it, and he is known to be one hell of a man-eater. But knowing something said behind closed doors and acknowledging it out loud are surely two very different things, even more so when you are facing that kind of man, and even, even more when you are still clutching for dear life at your only chance to finally have your ass covered.

"Gay? It's not a bad word; you can say it, Pete—gay," Khun Vegas said, taking a step forward towards Pete again, one hand on his hip, the other holding the cigarette, looming over Pete.

Pete was still bent in half, his pants on his thighs, and he knew, oh God forgive him, he knew that if he raised his eyes a little bit up—slightly, just a couple of inches up—he would be facing another kind of big problem. A huge one, it seemed, showing in Khun Vegas's own pants. At least he has one, lucky bastard.

At the realization, Pete straightened up as fast as he could, like something just freaking stung him, and the pants he was holding so tightly fell on the floor, leaving him exposed to all again. But this time, Pete had his hands free, and it almost made him laugh hysterically when he realized he could finally shield his not-so-private part anymore from those three pairs of eyes.

"Oh, no no, I know, I mean, I just didn't want to assume, you know that..." Pete said, both hands above his crotch, eyes darting between the two other men. "I didn't want to assume that every one of your friends is... well, yes, gay."

"Don't worry; you didn't assume anything; it's clear as water," Khun Vegas reassured as he took a step back, leaning against his desk. "Gay, bi, straight—whatever it is, those are just words. Things are different when you just, you know, open your mind." Khun Vegas' gaze shifted from Pete's face down to Pete's hand, shielding his privates, the lace still very much visible on the side, hugging Pete's hips.

Opening his mind? Yeah, Pete considers himself pretty open, actually. His best friend most probably became gay, and he never gave it much thought—it was just natural, something that never needed questioning.

As for Pete, he likes women. Well, he thinks he likes them, as they are the only kind of human he has experience with. Well, "experiences" might be a stretch; he knows he's not fooling anyone by claiming to be a Don Juan of some kind. But Pete has had relationships with girls, and a reasonable amount compared to, say, Arm. So, yeah, boys? Men? He never really thought about it until now because Khun Vegas is literally throwing hints bigger than his fist right into Pete's face.

He had heard stories about gay men viewing straight men as the Holy Grail, like the last level of the gay game where you have to defeat the final boss—the final boss being a straight man lost in a pool of very hungry gay sharks. Is that what Pete is right now? A straight fish among very dangerous and very gay sharks?

« What ? »

Pete's eyes shot up as Khun Vegas's voice echoed, and he immediately locked eyes with him. His head was tilt to the side, giving Pete an amused look. "A straight fish?" Pete's eyes widened suddenly as his gaze darted between the three men now laughing uncontrollably.