Hold me close and we'll just leave it all behind

Why don't you stay?

The smell of burnt toast and simmering resentment hung heavy in the air. Macau, who was perpetually hungry, slammed the fridge door shut. It was Sunday night, their chef was on leave for the day leaving Macau to cook something on his own, but the kitchen was a warzone. Shards of ceramic gleamed on the floor, remnants of a floral-patterned plate Diane, Gun's girlfriend, had just flung across the room.

"What the heck happened here?" Vegas roared, his voice cracking as he stepped into the kitchen looking for his brother. Vegas had just returned from a dinner date with Pete, happiness visible on his face until he stepped into the mess of the kitchen.

Macau, stood frozen, fists clenched, "Diane had another meltdown. Apparently, Dad forgot to get her favorite almond milk again."

Vegas' anger, already simmering at the fact his brother is yet to be fed, boiled over. "Meltdown? She threw a freaking plate! This isn't some tantrum, Macau. That woman is getting out of control"

Macau turned, his face pale as he retaliated back to his brother in anger, "Easy for you to say hia. You don't have to live with her constant sniping and guilt trips. You are either at your office or with that new man you found. I have to hear her rants throughout the day. I see her boss around. Not you. So what are you even complaining about?"

Heat building up, Vegas screamed even louder than before, "Do you really think I don't know what goes on in this house? That mad man of a father belittles me both at the office and in this house. He has been messing over the plans to save the company. And then on top of that, you start acting like a brat. You don't study, you fail at them, constantly either nagging me or slopping around. If you have free time in your hand, why don't you be useful to us for even a second?"

Macau scoffed, "Useful... Useful you say," his voice increasing with every word, "Hia out of all people you can't talk about being useful when you are the reason we are living like this. You failed dad, you failed mom and now you are failing your company. You already failed me a long time ago. Mom died because of you. You are her killer."

"How dare you?" Vegas roared back as anger resided in his voice, the fight escalating even more.

He was cut off by Macau who continued to spit venom, "How dare I? Do I need to remind you of the fucked up shit you've done in our lives? She died because of you," his voice slowly reduced in volume, the anger still persisting, "She died protecting you because you never manage anything. I may be failing my studies once, but I am trying unlike you, who gives up every fucking time. So don't you dare pretend to care about me or her, when we both know you are the most selfish asshole in this house, along with our father."

Vegas reached for Macau's collar as he crumbled it in one hand, the other getting raised to hit Macau as he stopped mid-air, recognizing what he was about to do. Macau's eyes reflected pain more than anger now as he pushed his brother and smashed a plate placed nearby.

"Hit me, hia, come on tame me like others. Why did you stop? Oh, I'm not worth being tamed by you now," he scoffed before exiting the kitchen and marched towards his room. Vegas called out for his younger brother, walking behind him and trying to apologize but was left with Macau slamming the door on his face.

Vegas frantically reached for the beer bottle kept in the fridge as he gulped it down, trying to ease the pain. Gulp after gulp, he managed to finish the entire bottle, his mind still in havoc. He wanted nothing but to reside in somebody's arm and let him hug his pain away. That somebody did have a face in Vegas' mind but he was still sober to admit it out loud.

Five bottles down and he was stumbling across the house to reach his garage, ready to pull out his Ducati over to Pete's, in a drunken state. A mistake, he knew that, he would not act so smitten and pathetic if he was sober. But at the moment he didn't care, he just wanted his angel to hug him.

Pete was about to resign for the day as his bell rang loudly over and over again. He groaned, getting out of his comfort while mumbling in annoyance, "Who is it at this time, a man can't even sleep well these days?" As he opened the door, he witnessed Vegas leaning against the wall, barely able to stand up straight and mumbling incoherent words.

"Vegas..."Pete paused before continuing, "What are you doing here at this hour? And drunk?" Before he could continue he was engulfed by Vegas who put his entire weight on Pete resulting in the two of them almost falling down. Vegas snuggled his face into Pete's neck as Pete tried to stabilize the two of them. As Pete was about to continue his inquiry, he felt tears at the crook of his neck.

"Are you crying..." quite shocked, Pete dragged Vegas' teary and drunken self inside as they settled on the couch, Vegas clinging onto Pete the entire journey. Pete made Vegas face him as he wiped the tears escaping, holding Vegas ever so carefully as if any more pressure would break the man in his arms.

The delicate touch, the concerned eyes spoke to Vegas even when he was drunk as he bursted out, stuffing himself in Pete's embrace, wailing in his angel's embrace. Pete reciprocated the hug back, roaming his arms up and down his back, trying to comfort Vegas.

"I didn't, I didn't mean to. Please trust me, I didn't do it. Please, I-" Vegas kept wailing and begging this into Pete's chest as Pete tried his back to provide the embrace Vegas needed. "I trust you Vegas, I'm sure you didn't," he kept repeating these words softly as he brushed his fingers through Vegas' hair in attempts to calm him down. Soon enough, sleep took over the two men as they fell asleep in each other's embrace, tangled up on the couch.

The room was bathed in the cool, silvery light of the moon filtering through the blinds. A sudden, fleeting dream jolted Vegas awake around 4 am. Disoriented for a moment, he blinked, the room slowly coming into focus. Then, he saw him. The moonlight seemed to paint his face in a soft glow, highlighting the gentle rise and fall of her chest with each breath, his lips slightly parted.

Events of the previous night came flooding in. The fight with Macau, him drunk driving, crying and wailing in Pete's arms... 'No, No, No' Vegas' mind screamed as he carefully escaped Pete's grip making his way to the door. His heart begged him to go back and lay in his arms but his mind persisted to leave. On his ride back, he thought over his actions, 'I cried in his arms. I could have killed myself while driving here. I've gone insane. Love never ends well. I can't afford love. Not right now. I have to distance myself from him. I can't, I can't be in love.'

His heart screamed that those words were a lie, it was never plain old attraction with Pete, it was always something more. Vegas refused to listen, he refused to become weak in another soul's presence. Not again. He faced the consequences once and he's afraid to lay himself bare the second time.

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As Macau slammed the door, he flopped down on his bed, tears streaming down his face. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird, its frantic rhythm echoing in his ears. The room spun, the familiar shapes of his bedroom morphing into menacing shadows. He gasped, lungs tight, like someone was squeezing the air out of him.