Chapter Text
Pete is rushing down the front stairs of his high school, taking two at a time by the end. There’s a prickling feeling somewhere below his collar, and he grabs his bag tighter, trying to keep an eye on the people around him without falling on his face.
As usual, the other students pay him no attention. They’re too busy talking to their friends or rushing to classes, and well, Pete isn’t really that interesting to look at, anyway. He’s built up a reputation, of sorts, in that he doesn’t really have any reputation at all. He’s the guy no one ever talks to, painfully shy and always at the back of the classroom. Or, well, that’s how it’s been for a long while.
At the bottom of the stairs, Pete looks around, trying to spot Porsche. The other boy only joined their school a few weeks ago and for reasons unclear to everyone but him, he chose Pete as his new best friend. Needless to say, it came as a shock – Porsche is funny, and extroverted, and very obviously attractive. Basically, the opposite of Pete. So, their friendship still seems somewhat odd to Pete. Still, he’s trying to spot him now as he keeps walking, but Porsche is nowhere to be found, and instead, in the crowd of people, Pete meets a different pair of eyes.
Oh.
A mean grin spreads on the other boy’s face and then, he starts to move, taking big strides towards him. “Hey, Pete!”, he yells. People around them flinch and scurry out of his way.
Ooooh.
Pete stumbles backwards, away from the boy, clutching onto his bag. “K-k-k-Khun Vegas.”, he stutters. Vegas is the same age as him, hell, they have most classes together, so there really shouldn’t be any reason to call him “Khun”. Still, a Theerapanyakun is a Theerapanyakun, so Pete either pays them respect or he’ll pay the price.
Vegas comes to a halt in front of him, still grinning. His expensive dress shirt has a few buttons too many undone, as usual. And as usual, no one would dare to tell him that he’s violating school dress codes. He knows that the other students around them are already starring at them by now, with a mixture of pity (directed at Pete) and fear (directed at the demon in the body of a high schooler in front him).
Vegas, without saying a word, grabs Pete’s tie and pulls him dangerously close, his expensive cologne assaulting Pete’s nostrils. Pete can see the mean glint in Vegas eyes as the other asks: “You have the English homework for tomorrow already done, correct?”
Pete knows where this is going. He’s done it a dozen times. Still, he can’t help the way his body tenses up, like he’s expecting to be punched any second now. There’s no helping it: he knows he has to do this now.
“Y-yes, Khun Vegas.”, he answers dutifully.
“Give it to me.”, the boy demands, his grip on the tie getting tighter.
Pete swallows heavily. For a second, he catches Vegas eyes, the dark pits morphed into a mean scowl, and the breath leaves his body. He just stares, mouth open.
Vegas shakes him, and Pete wakes up. “N-no.” His voice is shaking.
Vegas raises his eyebrows. “No?”, he asks, “no?” Then, he laughs – a sound, that would make most students at their school shake in their boots. Pete does, at least. “You’re becoming brave, little nerd.”, Vegas says.
Pete isn’t so sure about that. He thinks he’s just becoming stupid.
Vegas grabs his wrist in a tight lock. “Bet I can make you reconsider.” And he starts dragging Pete away.
Pete knows the others are still looking at them, but no one is going to say anything. Not to Vegas. So, he fights it, fights him, tries to pull his arm away, but all it does is make Vegas grip tighter.
“If you want to be able to still walk tomorrow, come with me. Now.”, Vegas snarls at him.
And so, Pete let’s himself be dragged off.
The place is the usual, a tiny alley behind the school building, hidden from all prying eyes. Plants have overgrown the other end, which means there’s no escape for Pete. No chance anyone might walk past and accidentally spot them.
Vegas lets go of Pete’s wrist and throws him against the wall hard enough that Pete drops his school bag.
Vegas grins at him. “Missed me?”, he asks.
Pete smiles. “A little, yeah.”
Then, Pete leans forward at the same that Vegas moves closer, and they’re kissing.
“Fuck”, Vegas says against Pete’s lips, “it’s been too long.” He brings them back together, kissing Pete almost like he’s savouring every touch of their lips. He bites gently into Pete’s bottom lip, only letting him go when Pete makes a small noise of pain. Vegas pecks his bruised lip again. “You’re always around Porsche these days.”
“I know”, Pete says, wincing as Vegas licks over the same spot he just bit, “It’s nice to have someone to talk to between classes and stuff, but…ah!”
He drifts off as Vegas wraps his arms around Pete’s waist and starts to suck at the sensitive skin just below his jaw. He can feel Vegas smile against his neck. “But it makes it way harder to get my hands on you.”
Pete giggles. He arches into Vegas, who continues to lick and suck on his jaw and neck. Pete reaches up and holds onto Vegas by his shoulders. “Not like I can just tell Porsche that I have to go secretly make out with the guy who’s supposed to be my bully.”
Vegas huffs. “Our little act earlier sure was convincing.”
Pete hums.
“Only”, Vegas pulls away from his neck and straightens up again, so he can look into Pete’s eyes. Pete has to try very hard not to sulk at the loss of contact.
“You almost fell out of your role there, Pete.” Vegas raises one eyebrow and gives him an amused look.
Pete knows exactly which moment the other is talking about. He can feel his cheeks heating up. “Not my fault”, he defends himself, “It’s just the way you look in these moments. Your eyes are always so…”
Vegas grins at him. “So, what?”
Pete’s face must be tomato red by now. “…so intense when you do that. I like it.”
He can see, right in front of him, the way Vegas eyes widen at that, and his mouth morphs into an “o” shape, and then Vegas lunges forward and attacks Pete’s lips again, kissing him like he’s starving. Vegas pushes as close as humanly possible, flatting Pete’s back against the wall, grabbing him by the back of his neck to protect him from the hard concrete but also, to tug at the strands of hair.
“Ah!”, Pete yelps into the kiss.
Vegas grins at him. “You’re fucking perfect.”, he says, and before Pete has time to fully comprehend what it was that Vegas just said to him, the other is on his lips again.