From Frost to Flame

Part 54: The Start of More

Thursday dawned with an edge of anticipation. It wasn't just another workday—their biggest client was scheduled for the final review. The project design was polished, the team had rehearsed every angle, and now all that was left was approval. The office buzzed with energy, sharper than usual, coffee cups clutched a little tighter as everyone prepared for the presentation.

Pete walked in early, laptop tucked close, heart steady but nerves sparking under his skin. He told himself it was just the project, nothing else. But when he stepped into the conference area, he saw Vegas already there, leaning against the table, jacket perfectly fitted, scanning the documents with calm precision.

Their eyes met for half a second, and something unspoken passed between them—something Pete quickly looked away from, focusing on his notes instead.

"Morning," Vegas said, voice smooth, deliberate.

Pete's fingers tightened slightly on the laptop case. "Morning."

Before Vegas could say more, Mr. Day called for Pete. Pete excused himself, walking over quickly, leaving Vegas with a pang that felt too much like jealousy.

The conference room filled fast. Laptops opened, files stacked neatly, the big screen already glowing with the title slide. Pete sat with his notes ready, Sky adjusting his tie beside him, while Mr. Day checked the final sequence of slides. Across the table, Vegas leaned back in his chair, sharp eyes scanning everything in silence.

The client's team arrived right on time, greetings were exchanged, and handshakes were firm. Then the meeting began. Pete, Mr. Day, and Sky alternated between sections—charts, layouts, timelines, and strategies. The discussion was sharp but steady, and every possibility of success was weighed carefully.

The session stretched on, tension simmering in the air. Pete kept his focus on the content, but every so often, when he lifted his head, his gaze brushed past Vegas. Vegas wasn't leading this presentation, but he was there—composed, sharp, the kind of presence that didn't need words. Just a look. Subtle but grounding. Each time, Pete found his voice again more easily.

When the client finally called for a short break, the team let out a collective breath. Coffee was served, and conversations branched into smaller groups. Pete was sipping quietly by the side when Mr. Day approached, smile warm.

"Your explanation about the design flow—it made things very clear. I think the client was impressed," Day said, voice low but sincere.

Pete blinked, caught off guard. A faint smile tugged at his lips, polite but genuine. "I just tried to keep it simple." He bowed his head slightly, murmuring a soft thanks.

Vegas's jaw tightened. He'd been listening, of course—listening to Pete's voice, watching the flicker of light on his face as he leaned toward the screen. But hearing Day's praise, seeing Pete's shy smile, made something twist inside him, sharp and unwelcome. His pen stilled against his notebook.

Kinn, seated at the far end, noticed it all—the compliment, Pete's faint blush, and the quiet storm brewing beside him. His smirk was quick and hidden as he glanced down at his phone. A moment later, he called out casually, "Day, step outside a second. Client needs a quick clarification."

Day raised a brow, glancing at Pete like he wanted to continue, but finally nodded. "Alright. Don't go anywhere, Pete—we'll go over the next section after this."

Pete gave a small nod, though confusion tugged at his chest. As Day walked off, Vegas remained, a little too still.

"Good work," Vegas said then, his voice smooth but edged with something heavier. He leaned just enough for Pete to hear.

Vegas stood a step away, not close enough to draw attention, but near enough that Pete felt it.

Pete gave a small nod. "Thanks. Just... long meeting."

Vegas's mouth curved, subtle and deliberate. "Stay steady. It'll be worth it."

Before Pete could respond, Sky's voice rang out from across the hall. "Pete! Come here—we need you for the next draft!"

Pete glanced back at Vegas, but he had already stepped away, blending into the crowd as if the moment hadn't existed at all. Still, Pete carried it with him as he rejoined Sky, the air around him warmer, sharper, more complicated than before.

But Vegas's eyes tracked him to the door, irritation simmering—not at Sky, not really, but at how easily Pete's attention slipped away.

Kinn's smirk widened as he scribbled something on his notes, pretending not to notice the way Vegas's gaze refused to move.

The second half of the meeting pressed on. More questions, more numbers—but this time, Pete's nerves felt steadier after that quiet exchange. By the end, when the client leaned back, smiled, and said, "We're satisfied. Consider the project approved," the tension finally eased. The room buzzed with celebration—applause, laughter, handshakes all around. Mr. Day congratulated Pete and Sky with a firm clap on the shoulder before turning to talk with the client.

Sky was already chatting animatedly with another associate, his grin bright. Pete let out a slow breath, a small smile curving as he allowed himself a moment of pride. But then—he felt it.

That unmistakable pull.

When he glanced up, Vegas was already moving across the room. Not rushed, not hesitant—just deliberate, his eyes locked only on him.

The buzz of the room dimmed against the steady cadence of footsteps.

Pete's chest tightened. Why is he coming toward me?

Every stride seemed to land directly in his ribs, his breath caught somewhere between anticipation and nerves. Vegas didn't slow, didn't look at anyone else—just him.

Vegas stopped in front of Pete, close enough that Pete caught the faint trace of cologne beneath the hum of champagne and congratulations. For a second, neither spoke. The noise around them seemed to press in, isolating them in the center of the crowded room.

Vegas's gaze didn't waver. "Congratulations, Pete."

"You did well," he said softly, pitched for Pete alone. Simple words, but steady, grounding, carrying more weight than they should have.

Pete's throat went dry. "Th-thank you," he managed, though it came out more hushed than he intended.

Vegas didn't move away. He lingered, presence wrapping around Pete like a shadow—close enough to feel, impossible to dismiss. His gaze flicked once to Pete's mouth before returning to his eyes, deliberate and unhurried.

Pete's pulse raced. He prayed no one else noticed, that the others were too busy clapping backs and exchanging numbers.

And yet, as he lingered, Vegas's hand came up, brushing lightly against Pete's shoulder.
The touch was brief, steady, but enough to make Pete's eyes widen in surprise. Before he could gather himself, someone called Vegas's name from across the room.

The spell cracked, just enough for Vegas to glance away briefly. Then he leaned in, close enough that Pete felt his breath against his ear.

"See you tonight," Pete.

Not a promise. Not a request. Just a low, certain word.

And then—Vegas turned, leaving Pete rooted to the spot, thoughts rushing faster than the applause still echoing in the room. He slipped back into the crowd with unhurried calm, while Pete stood frozen, heartbeat thudding in his ears, wondering what tonight would mean.