Vegaspete Oneshort

.... Road....

The road stretched endlessly in front of them, winding like a sleepy snake through the green-covered hills. The windows of the car were rolled up, the soft purr of the engine weaving with the background melody of birdsong and wind whistling past. Outside the windows, the landscape blurred in golden strokes. Mountains framed the horizon like watercolor paintings, and the sunlight danced lazily through the tinted glass. It was warm, calm... cozy.

The car ride was quiet-except for the soft hum of the engine, the subtle rustling of papers, and the occasional chirp from Pete's phone, which he had long since ignored.

Pete was warm.

Not just because the leather seats hugged his body comfortably, or because of the gentle sunlight filtering through the window.... But because Vegas had an arm draped around him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like Pete belonged there.And he did.

They were sat pressed against each other in the backseat. Pete had tucked himself into the crook of Vegas's side, his head comfortably nestled just beneath his husband's jawline...

They weren't talking much. Well-Vegas was. Sort of.

He was holding a set of papers, fresh off a printer from the office they'd stopped by. His smooth voice drifted in and out, explaining something about a meeting next week, possible property deals, and... honestly, Pete couldn't hear a damn word.Well, not to the words, anyway.

Because his eyes were on Vegas.

---

There was something about his husband in that moment.

The way his brow slightly furrowed in concentration.
The way his lips moved as he spoke-slow, calm, always so composed.
The way his jawline curved down to his neck, soft but sharp, like marble kissed by honey. ( I just watched top form)
The way his brown skin gleamed under the light, radiant and warm. Like curry..

Pete was just watching...

And watching...

And watching....Like a hungry man...

He was watching the way Vegas's fingers moved smoothly over the paper. It it's only his skin rather then the useless paper....

The way his lips moved as he spoke. If only his lip between his man lip...

The way his long eyelashes curled slightly at the ends, catching light like tiny crowns. And Pete could wore them in his head....

The way a small shadow of stubble peeked along his jaw-something Pete always pretended to complain about, but secretly adored. It makes his man look human rather then a perfect sculpture....

Vegas was so close. So warm. So... perfect. So beautiful.. So fuking hot...

Pete's heart thudded-heavy, loud.. Vegas give him a worried eyes.. Maybe Vegas listen his heartbeat.?? Who knows and who the fuck care.... anyway it's time for thirsting over his man...

He licked his lips unconsciously.

He felt like... like he was thirsty. Not for water, obviously no. For him..For the Vegas for the man whom everyone wanted in their bed but Pete got the ultimate card........ While Pete was almost dying Vegas was focused. So composed. So completely, unfairly hot.

And Pete?

Pete was dying. No not dying how could he died without having his man inside of him.... Pete almost slapped himself for this though....

He tried to behave. Really. Sat quietly like a good husband. Even nodded along like he was listening to the economic details of their latest project in Hong Kong. Or the mansion....