Vegaspete Oneshort

Founding sunshine...

Pete sat on the edge of the bed, fists clenched, teeth biting his bottom lip until it hurt.

He didn’t know why he was crying.

But he did know why he was angry.

Really angry.

Not at Vegas. Not anymore.

He was mad.No—he was furious.
At himself.

“Stupid, stubborn bastard…” Pete muttered under his breath, eyes glassy.

The man he loved—that stupid bastard of a husband—was out there, in the blistering sun, searching for him like his breath depended on it.

“It’s hot,” Pete mumbled to himself.
“It’s so damn hot, and he’s out there in the middle of the road like an idiot.”

But the next breath that came out was shaky. Choked.

“Why is he in the middle of the road?? In that heat?? Looking for me like some lunatic?? What the hell is he thinking?”

His voice cracked on the last word. He wiped his face aggressively and stood up, pacing the room like a storm in chains.

How dare that bastard be standing in the middle of the road like that.
In this disgusting Bangkok heat.
In a wrinkled shirt.
With sweat dripping from his hairline like he’s just a random man and not—

" MY man."

Pete ran both hands down his face, then looked toward the thick curtains.
The AC was humming around him. The room cool. Safe. Clean.
He couldn’t even see the sun. But he knew. He knew how hot it was.

.

But out there, the love of his life was probably dehydrated, sunburnt, dizzy with worry, and still refusing to stop.

Pete Knew how sensitive Vegas was to discomfort.To filth.To grime.To sweat.
To heat.

The man would freak out if his water bottle wasn’t cold enough..and now he was out there, standing in exhaust fumes, baking under the Bangkok sun, looking for Pete like a man on fire.

“Stupid bastard,” Pete muttered.

But his eyes were red.

And his voice was shaking.“He’s going to get himself sick.”

“Fucking idiot…” Pete mumbled again, but his heart was breaking.

“Why the hell is he doing that?” he muttered to himself.

He already knew the answer.

Because Vegas Theerapanyakul would rather burn under the sun than live in a world without Pete.

And that hurt more than anything.

He grabbed his phone and punched in a number.It rang once before Macau answered.

“Yes, phi?”Macau’s voice was soft, careful, like he knew Pete’s walls were all falling apart one by one.

Pete hesitated for a second.

Pete closed his eyes and breathed through his  nose.. Then snapped.

> ll

Macau paused. “Stop who?”

“Them!” Pete snapped, then softened instantly. “All of them. They’re out there. In the heat. Suffering.”

Macau blinked on the other end. “What?”

“They’re all hurting in the heat!” Pete burst. “They’re sweating, running around, skipping meals—Tankhun will get dehydrated, Porsche will punch a reporter it will loose their reputation,  Kim will die of annoyance and your brother” he choked.