BL ONESHOTS No.5

²³⁰Vegas x Pete

The sun dipped low over the skyline, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the city as the late afternoon light trickled into Vegas and Pete's apartment. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet aroma of a chocolate cake that Vegas had baked to celebrate furthering his work project. He wore a loose-fitting teal shirt that brought out the haunting blue in his eyes. Pete, tall and athletic with dark hair, had just returned from a grueling workout, his damp shirt clinging to his body.

As Pete stepped through the door, he was greeted by the sight of Vegas, whose headlights were bright and eager. He had always admired how Vegas could move through life with an infectious vivacity, his laugh echoing through the hallways and turning mundane moments into cherished memories.

"Hey, babe! I made your favorite," Vegas called out, pulling the cake from the oven, the warm smell wafting through the apartment.

"Thanks, Vegas! You know me too well," Pete replied, a genuine smile spreading across his features, though a hint of exhaustion lingered in his eyes.

After such a long day, Pete's focus was solely on enjoying an evening together. However, their tranquility was shattered when Vegas's phone buzzed with a notification—it was a message from Porche, his cousin's boyfriend.

Vegas had always been close to Porche, a vibrant personality who could light up a room. While he respected Pete, the flirtatious connection he had with Porche had a way of leaving him intrigued. Innocently, he texted Porche back with a mischievous energy.

"Hey cutie, you should come over later! We haven't had a chance to catch up!" Vegas typed, a playful smile on his face.

Pete, who had just poured himself a mug of coffee, glanced at Vegas's phone with furrowed brow, caught off guard by the playful tone. Their relationship had always been built on trust, but a small seed of doubt began to sprout.

"Vegas, do you really think Porche should come over tonight?" Pete asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Why not? It's been ages since we've all hung out," Vegas replied while typing a few more emojis in his message to Porche, his eyes lighting up with delight. He leaned back against the kitchen counter, unaware of Pete's growing discomfort.

As if sensing an opportunity, Vegas decided to turn up the flirtation. "Plus, he gets me riled up sometimes! It's just fun, you know?" His voice carried a teasing lilt that left Pete feeling somewhat sidelined.

"Fun, huh?" Pete replied, crossing his arms. The laughter in his voice was strained, and he quickly turned his attention to the coffee pot as if it held all the answers. The tension crackled in the air like static electricity.

Vegas noticed Pete's retreating demeanor and took a moment to really look at him. "You okay, babe?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Pete snapped, perhaps a little too quickly.

"Pete, come on. I'm just being friendly," Vegas insisted, taking a step closer. "It's not like that."

But the thrill of flirting seeped into Vegas's veins. As Porche entered the apartment later, the atmosphere shifted. Porche, dressed in a snug white tee and jeans that hugged his form just right, breezed in with a wave and an easy smile. "Hey, fam! What's cooking?"

"Just a little something I whipped up," Vegas replied, a gleam in his eye, suddenly animated. The tension in Pete's shoulders tightened further as he set the coffee mug down too forcefully, splashing a bit over the counter.

Porche sauntered over and playfully bumped shoulders with Vegas, who laughed and leaned in a touch too closely. This was the moment that sent Pete's jealousy igniting like wildfire—suddenly, Porche's presence felt like a barrier between him and Vegas, and the spark in Vegas's eyes as he shared a joke sent an eerie pang through Pete's heart.