What Happens in Vegas?

Chapter 2

Sometimes, jetlag could be a blessing in disguise. Like when you're crushing hard on your best friend and find yourself in a giant, plush, king-sized bed in a Las Vegas hotel room.

If Ed hadn't been so damned tired, and if his dinner hadn't been so heavy, he would have found it hard to sleep with Stede an arm's reach away.

He woke up around 3 AM to use the bathroom. Ed tried to be as quiet as he could, but it turned out not to be necessary. Despite his seemingly endless well of energy and good cheer, Stede had crashed as well. He was snoring gently, dead to the world.

Instead of immediately returning to bed after splashing cool water in his face and using the bathroom, Ed crossed the room and peeked out the curtain to see the Vegas strip still a hive of activity despite the hour. He touched the glass and found it as hot as a radiator. No wonder the white noise of the air conditioning never let up. It was working overtime to keep the heat of the desert at bay.

No matter how many times Ed saw Las Vegas in TV shows or in movies, it hadn't prepared him for the real thing. It really did feel like he and Stede had been transported to another world.

A world with different rules from home.

Ed glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping shape of his best friend. He wasn't sure when he started to have feelings for Stede, but it was fairly early on. His earnestness and optimism was a counterpoint to Ed's own grumpy cynicism. That optimism unearthed the more playful side of his nature he thought he'd lost on his climb through the gaming world.

As someone who refused to cow to white corporate culture or compromise his vision, Ed had to deal with the setbacks and loss of opportunity that came along with that. He got a reputation for being talented, but difficult - someone who was best left to his own devices. Someone who didn't play well with others.

That meant Ed only got team members and project managers who rarely challenged him. Junior artists rode on his coattails. He was simultaneously isolated and put up on a pedestal.

Until Stede came along.

There was something about him that made Ed remember they were making games. And while it was important to take their work seriously, somewhere along the way he forgot to also have fun with it. From the start, Stede refused to let Ed isolate himself.

Ed had a plan to drive out the chirpy, friendly, overenthusiastic, occasionally grating, occasionally bitchy project manager he'd been sidled with. It was a plan he quickly abandoned in favour of after work drinks and weekend outings. Stede helped Ed learn to love his work again - and a cloud that had hung over him for ten years was swept away.

All of that could be gone in an instant if Ed made the wrong move. That didn't stop him from wishing he could crawl back into that big, comfortable bed and spoon Stede from behind.

After a few moments of admiring the Las Vegas skyline, Ed made sure the curtains were closed all the way, then made his way back to bed. He carefully slid under the covers and pulled the blanket up around his chest.

Stede stirred next to him and rolled over onto his side towards Ed. He was still fast asleep, his impressive mop of hair already hopelessly tousled. His nightshirt was twisted, and his nose whistled faintly as he breathed.

He was beautiful.

Ed stared at him for as long as he dared to. There was only enough light spilling in around the curtains to kiss Stede's cheeks and show a faint outline of his features.

Ed's hair was pillowed up around his face and he could smell the distinct scent of the hotel shampoo. It occurred to him that right now, Stede's hair must smell the same. But how would the floral notes with hints of musk interact with his body chemistry? How did it make his hair feel? Ed longed to bury his fingers along the sides of Stede's head and inhale deeply at the curve of his neck.