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Summary
Porsche pulls Pete over the minute they come back inside, tugging Pete’s shirt aside like an accusation. “A collar?” he asks, unable to keep the incredulity from his voice. “You’re wearing a collar?”
Pete gives him a look, yanking his shirt back up. “Yes,” he replies, completely calm and nonchalant, like this is normal. Which, maybe it is. Porsche has heard some stuff from Tankhun but he thought he was exaggerating.
“Why?”
Pete looks at Porsche like he’s lost his last braincell. “Because I’m his pet,” he says. Like that’s normal. “And that’s what pets do.”