And I Will Consume You

11

The car ride was a lot longer than he had remembered it to be, but maybe that's because Pete didn't have a phone or a Gameboy to play on to pass the time the way he used to. The ocean glistened in his eyes, but it didn't feel as welcoming as he hoped it would. None of it did. Not the houses, not the restaurant or the little shops where they knew his name. Not the children playing in the sand or the foreigners enjoying the sun. Nothing was the same. The sky was clear and blue, the sound of crashing waves was ever so relaxing, but the knot in Pete's back refused to loosen like the stubborn grip of a child. When they finally did arrive, the house looked rough. It desperately needed a new paint job, a good wash, and to be redecorated, but that was the least of Pete's worries right now. First and foremost he needed to get settled and forget all of this. Forget Vegas. The bastard used him and then threw him away like a broken doll, absolutely no regard to his feelings or his current mental state. The lock if the front door clicked as he turned the key had found from inside a flowerpot, the place it had always been kept, though the rose bush in it had long since wilted and died. The door handle twisted with a creak and the house sighed as he hoped it, letting fresh air replace the musty, aged smell. The floor was covered in dust though Pete had made sure to cover all the furniture before he'd left so he could come back eventually and avoid the hassle of cleaning everything.

Pulling the cotton tarps away and watching the cloud of particles fall from it, he was somewhat surprised to see nothing had changed at all, perfectly preserved in time. Flicking the light switch on and watching as the bulb struggled to wake after so many years, a flood of memories rushed over him. This was where he'd gotten his first ever academic prize, where he did his homework, where he played aline in his room and where he had eaten some if the best dishes he'd ever tasted. It was hard to believe that sweet, kind woman was gone. She would be so disappointed in him. Pete had promised her when he left that he'd take care of himself, that he'd go to school and live the picture perfect life she had when everything was rosey and warm. Now the floorboards groaned with every step and the once welcoming room he lived in was like stepping into a graveyard of forgotten memories. He was so happy back then. He was so happy before he met Vegas. Why did that bastard have to ruin everything? And why didn't he just fight back?

Finally finding himself sitting down on his old twin sized bed, the first tear fell down Pete's cheek, swiftly followed by another and before he knew it, he was sobbing. Everything he'd worked for was gone. Everything he loved was out of reach and everything he wanted he could never have. He couldn't have his friends back, he couldn't work for Kinn again... He couldn't belong to Vegas. Why was it that even now he wanted to feel that man's kiss? The monster that had ruined everything was the prince he hoped would save him. What a cruel twist of fate. Even so, a part of Pete was convinced that the other would come back. That he'd apologize and want to start over, that he'd come to his door and beg for another chance, this time to take care of his heart and treat it the way he deserved. A part of him wanted Vegas to be sat right beside him, rubbing his back and wiping his tears with gentle kisses to his forehead. To take care of him and lull him, being held closely and to never let go.

"Fuck!"

Vegas was livid, his knuckles bleeding from having punched the wall so hard when his emotions had finally gotten the better of him, though it was not only anger he felt. He was confused, he was depressed, he was in pain and he hated himself for feeling so guilty. What was it about that boy that drove him so nuts? Was it that angelic, soft face? Was it those big doe eyes? Was it the cute giggle he had or the dimples in his cheeks when he smiled? Whatever it was, Vegas was convinced it had captured him into some sort of spell. He wasn't just attracted, he was obsessed. He wanted Pete for himself and himself alone, he wanted to spoil him, ruin him, praise him, and degrade him. He wanted to give him the world, but he was too jealous. Whatever Pete had done to him, it messed with his head, and he couldn't think straight anymore. Every thought was about him, stuck on that boy and his perfect body. His perfect smile and his perfect personality. He was feisty yet obedient, loyal yet rebellious and something about the challenge was so refreshingly addictive.

Vegas felt like cursing, screaming, crying. As if his mind, body, and soul were being torn apart at an excruciatingly slow pace. As if he had been skinned alive just for salt to be rubbed into the wound and his tears to be drained from him just like a drip to a vein. Vegas sent Pete away because he knew if he stayed, there would be no turning back. Pete was miserable here, and Vegas couldn't get himself to let the boy go, so he shooed him away instead. His heart ached so bad that he felt like throwing up. Was this what love is? Was this why Kinn wanted Porsche to himself so badly? Was this the reason why heartbreak was played up to be the worst kind of pain?

There was nothing in this world besides Pete that could calm him now. No amount of alcohol, no drug, no nothing. There was no high compared to the one he got being around that boy. No low compared to the one he felt without him. Even so, Vegas refused to give in to his pain. He'd never once given up, he'd never once circled back or begged for forgiveness or dwelled on the past. He had to keep his head up. Cause if he didn't, his father would make sure his head would be forever parted from his shoulders.

"Get over it, Vegas." He said to himself, a hand brushing through his hair anxiously. "It's just a boy. I can find a new one to play with any day of the week..."

"... Even if it doesn't feel the same"