Be my S̶̶l̶̶a̶̶v̶̶e̶ || Book-I ||

Porsche

As Vegas descended the stairs, Pete followed closely behind him.

Before Vegas could say anything, Porsche bolted toward Pete and practically tackled him in a tight hug.

"Bitch, I thought you were dead!" Porsche yelled dramatically, squeezing Pete so hard he could barely breathe.

"I missed you too, Porsche," Pete managed to say, returning the hug.

Porsche finally let go but wasn’t done yet. "Bitch, I thought your asshole father sold you or something!" he shouted, gesturing wildly.

"It's not—" Pete tried to explain, but Porsche was already charging toward Vegas, his temper flaring. He grabbed Vegas by the collar, shaking him slightly.

"How dare you, you asshole! How dare you kidnap my best friend!" Porsche screamed, his voice echoing through the hallway. Before Vegas could even respond, Kinn came running in, trying to pull Porsche back before things escalated.

"Babe, calm down," Kinn said, trying to soothe Porsche as he held him back.

Vegas snapped Porsche's hands off him, clearly annoyed, and rolled his eyes. He walked toward Pete, who had been watching the whole scene unfold in stunned silence, and wrapped his arm possessively around Pete's waist.

"Why would I kidnap him?" Vegas asked flatly, his face a blank mask of indifference.

Pete's gaze shifted nervously between Vegas and Porsche, unsure of how this was all going to play out. Porsche blinked, then looked at Pete, then Vegas, then down to Vegas' arm that was now snugly wrapped around Pete's waist.

His eyes grew wide, and he pointed at them accusingly, as if he had just uncovered the biggest scandal of the century.

"Wait a minute..." Porsche’s voice trailed off, realization dawning on him. His mouth dropped open in shock.

"No... no... no… please, no."

"Kinn, this is not what I’m thinking, right?" Porsche turned to Kinn, desperately seeking confirmation that he was wrong.

"P-Pete... no..." Porsche stammered, looking between Pete and Vegas like they had committed some unspeakable crime.

He dramatically snatched Pete away from Vegas, yanking him to his side.

"You devil!" Porsche snapped at Vegas.

"Did you do something to my innocent friend?!"

Pete barely had time to react before Porsche clutched him by the shoulders, shaking him gently.

"Pete, have you realized who he is? He's VEGAS! You can't be with him! Baby, no!" Porsche’s voice was high-pitched and frantic as if trying to knock some sense into Pete.

Kinn, trying to suppress his laughter, stood by watching the chaos unfold.

"Porsche, relax..."

"No, I won’t relax! Pete! Look at me," Porsche demanded, shaking Pete again.

"You can’t be with him! He's dangerous! He’s... he’s devil! He probably locks people in dungeons and tortures them for fun!"

Pete opened his mouth to respond, but Porsche wasn’t done. "How can you even think about this, Pete"

Vegas' eyes darkened, and his jaw clenched. But the moment Porsche called Pete 'baby,' the temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees.

Fury flickered behind his calm expression.

"Pete's mine," Vegas said coldly, glaring at Porsche.

But Porsche wasn’t backing down. "Baby, no!" he repeated, this time with more urgency.