duplicity

the end is now

PETE

Pete was already nursing his second beer by the time he finished recounting the entire story of the last few days to Porsche. He didn't even know why he was telling Porsche. He could already feel the words that Porsche wanted to say on the tip of his tongue, but Pete felt like he needed to talk to someone, or he might actually burst. And, since he didn't really have any other friends, Porsche was his only option.

"I just don't get it, man." Porsche shook his head, lifting his beer to his lips. Pete shot him a glance before drinking some more of his own.

"Get what?"

"What you see in Vegas."

Pete groaned and leaned his head against his arm. This is exactly what he had expected from telling Porsche, but he wished his friend could keep his opinions to himself. Hearing things like this didn't do him any good, it just frustrated him even more.

"I don't think I'd be able to explain to you to make you understand at all, Porsche." Pete rubs at his face and looks back up at him. "Vegas is just..." He struggled for words. There was a lot he wanted to say about Vegas, but nothing felt right.

Vegas wasn't exactly kind or gentle, but he could be sweet and thoughtful when he wanted to be. Most importantly, Pete really felt like they suited each other. They were both exactly the same and completely different, but was that really something he could explain to Porsche? Was that something he even wanted to explain to Porsche?

Frankly, Pete didn't really care if people understood him and Vegas. He didn't really need them to, and he didn't think that this would change if one day they were allowed to be more than a secret affair, but actually be Vegas and Pete.

"Just?" Porsche prodded, clearly not giving up on trying to get details from Pete.

Pete just sighed and shook his head. "You wouldn't get it even if I explained it to you."

"You're probably right about that." Porsche shrugged and finished off his beer. "I'm sorry, Pete. But seriously, you deserve better. You should break it off with him. I mean... he fired you because his dad told him to."

"I resigned." Pete corrected.

Porsche just stared at him. "Because his dad told him to tell you to."

Pete couldn't really deny that and just leaned his head in his hand, groaning. "Even if he didn't, what makes you think I deserve better? I did cheat on my girlfriend of two years."

Porsche made a noise from next to him. "I don't think you would've if it wasn't for Vegas though. That's just not like you, Pete."

He let out a small laugh at that. "Not like him"—what, exactly, was "like him"? Pete certainly didn't know any longer, so how the hell did Porsche know? Pete was truly starting to think the only person that really knew him was Vegas.

"I can't break up with him." Pete went to take another drink of his beer and sighed in disappointment as he found it was empty. He wanted another, but knew that he probably shouldn't. It was not the time to get drunk.

"Because he won't let you?"

"No," Pete replied firmly, casting Porsche a stern look. "Because... maybe because you're right and I'm in love with him and the idea of not being with him hurts ten times worse than both my guilt and being fired combined." Pete said quickly, all in one breath, and then lowered his head into his hands.

He was in love with Vegas. He was in love with a man engaged to be married because his father told him to be—and Vegas had an issue with disappointing his father. Pete groaned loudly into his hands at the thought of it.