[Under editing]
(Wrote this in my cringe writer era. Forgive me people)
The Italian mafia killed Vegas's parents when he was barely 15. His uncle managed to save him and his brother from the rival mafia and took them under his care.
Pete is an orph...
"Did he use a condom?" was the first thing Porsche asked when Pete entered in the room, limping.
"What the- Porsche! That's the thing you're gonna ask when your friend was gone for a whole night?" Pete said dramatically.
"Yes, very sad. Anyways, you didn't answer me" Porsche beamed.
Pete stared at him in disbelief, thinking why are they even friends, for the 100th time.
Sighing he replied, "Y-yes he um did"
"Hmm that's good. No matter how much of a psychopath he is, he knows safety is first" Porsche nodded his head like a scientist. This earned him a disgusted look from the shorter.
"A-and how did you know that him and I....you know...we-" not being able to express himself properly, Pete awkwardly made hand gestures.
"Fucked ? I mean isn't it obvious? You're wearing his clothes, you smell like him and most importantly...you are limping haha!" Porsche said flipping his non-existent long hair.
"Y-you have observed everything too keenly. I uh I'm going to take a shower!" Pete said quickly limping his way to the bathroom.
Closing the bathroom door, Pete leaned on it. He sniffed the shirt and blushed bright red. He indeed smells like Vegas. He shook his head to get Vegas out of his mind.
What are you thinking?! You have training!!
Pete reminded himself and started stripping.
________________________________
After having a light breakfast, Pete walked to the training room. Ugh! He wonders when he'll become good enough and this torture session will end.
He won't deny that his aim was getting better but he was still far away from perfection.
Halfway through the training everyone decided to take a break and drink something to keep themselves hydrated.
Pete was sipping on a glass of water when he heard the nearby group of trainees gossiping.
"Did you see it right ?" One asked.
"No way dude. Him ?!" Another exclaimed in disbelief.
"Yeah he was getting out of Mr. Vegas's room in the morning. And the clothes he was wearing didn't even look like his own" it was John, the same guard who tried to bully him on his first day of training.
Pete's breath hitched. They were definitely talking about him. His features tensed and he put the glass of water down on the training room counter. He was about to walk away when a voice yelled, "Oi pretty boy, where are you going in such a hurry?"
Pete didn't have to turn around to recognise the owner of that American accent.
A heavy hand was placed on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around.
"What's the rush kitten?" John asked.
Pete was disgusted and didn't even try to hide it.
"What do you want?" Pete asked. He won't let some narcissist step on him without a fight.
"Mm~ with such an innocent face like that no one would suspect that you whore yourself around" John taunted and three other guards laughed along with him.
"How much do you take to spread your-" he didn't get to finish his sentence as Pete punched him on the face.
John cupped his cheek and looked back at Pete, "Ohh just because you've fucked with Mr. Vegas you think you're important?!"
The larger man punched Pete making him fall on the ground.
"John what the fuck! Stop it !" Anthony yelled running towards the centre of the chaos. John punched him in the stomach.
"Stay back! Today I'm gonna show this little bitch his place" John roared making a crowd around them.
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