Work Text:
Eyeing himself in the mirror, Vegas turns to one side and then the other before he steps back to take in his entire reflection. It takes him a moment, but ultimately he smiles slowly, satisfied and more than a little pleased with himself. Apparently it’s arrogant to think so, but he doesn’t care - he knows how to make himself look good and what other people like, and he also knows that the red silk shirt that he’s picked out for the night is one that suits him. He’s seen the looks that he gets when he wears it, though he only cares about the looks from one person in particular, of course.
A sound beside him makes him glance up, and he pauses briefly before smiling again as he takes in Pete’s reflection. He’s appeared as though able to hear what Vegas was thinking, and he looks pretty damn good himself, with a black and white patterned shirt paired with pants that just make Vegas want to tell him to turn around slowly so that he can take in the full view. Almost as good as that is the look on Pete’s face, though, because he’s staring at Vegas and looking him over from head to toe with obvious appreciation. Not that Vegas thinks Pete is aware of doing that - he usually tries to be a bit more subtle. It’s annoying, honestly.
“Did you need something, baby, or did you just come to stare?” he asks, smirking slightly.
Pete blinks and obviously has to force his gaze up to meet Vegas’ in the mirror, but then his lips curve in a slightly wry smile. “I wanted to see if you were almost ready to go,” he replies. “The staring is just a bonus.”
That makes Vegas laugh, and he smooths down his shirt one last time before he turns towards Pete. “You’re sure that I’m invited tonight?” he asks, eyebrows lifting.
Pete rolls his eyes and steps closer, hands lifting to rest lightly at Vegas’ waist. Even that gentle touch is something that Vegas is incredibly aware of, especially when he thinks about the way that Pete was just looking at him. It’s a touch that's barely there and yet it’s still enough to make his heart skip a beat and everything tune in to Pete, hyper aware of his presence.
“I’m sure.” Pete leans in for a kiss that’s soft and slow, and Vegas’ hands lift to rest at Pete’s waist, drawing him just that little bit closer. He knows that Pete is looking forward to this night out with his friends, but when he’s so close and just looked at Vegas that way, well, can anyone blame him if he tries for a change of plans?
Pete pulls back before the kiss can go on too long, though, and he gives Vegas a wry look. “If we don’t leave soon, we’re going to be late. Or worse,” he adds.
Vegas smirks a little as he lets his hands slip around to slide down over Pete’s ass, squeezing lightly just to see the way that Pete responds, breath catching just slightly in spite of his determination. “You sure, baby? We’ve got all night.”
“Which means that we’ll have time to fuck later, after we’ve gone to spend some time at the bar,” Pete replies, though he’s laughing. It makes his dimples flash in the process, and Vegas has a moment where he’s spellbound all over again, caught in the fact that Pete is here and his .
He leans in for a kiss that makes Vegas think that maybe he can bring Pete around anyway, but before he gets the chance Pete wriggles free and steps backwards.
“Come on, tua eng ,” Pete says, a little smile playing around his lips. “It’ll be fun.”
“Your definition of fun is very different from mine,” Vegas mutters, but there’s no way that he’s going to be able to resist that coaxing look in Pete’s eyes - or another brief flash of dimples that he gets when Pete’s smile deepens. “All right, let’s go, then.”
—
Hum Bar is busy when they arrive, and Vegas looks around in interest as they go inside. He’s been here before, of course - but only outside, on that night when he’d been so desperate to see Pete and apologize. The memory makes him tighten his hand on Pete’s before he moves to slide an arm around his waist, instead, drawing him in tight just to feel the length of Pete’s body against his own. Pete glances at him curiously, but doesn’t object, just staying close as they enter the bar. It’s just one of the things on the list of why Vegas loves Pete - how so often he doesn’t even question things and just wants to be there if he senses Vegas needs him.
They’re here at the bar because Tankhun has invited them. Well. Vegas is still pretty sure that the invitation is more intended for Pete than for him, but that doesn’t mean that he’s going to give anyone the satisfaction of staying home. Pete’s his and if he’s going to be out dancing at a bar, Vegas wants to be there with him. Now that they’re inside he’s a little reminded of that night when he’d tracked Pete down, too, and that makes him smile as he eyes Pete. Maybe they can take a little detour to the alley later on…
That thought distracts him during the next little bit, making it easier for him to put up with the fact that Tankhun and every single one of his guests apparently all want to greet Pete and monopolize some of his time. Some of them talk to Vegas but a lot of them ignore him, but he doesn’t really care - their opinions don’t matter to him, but there’s also the fact that he knows that Pete won’t take any shit from anyone. There’s a certain satisfaction in that, even if Vegas occasionally wonders if it’s odd to like how protective Pete is of him. It’s the same in reverse, though, which makes it feel different. Equal. They have each other’s backs, and always will.
Mostly he’s happy to just hang back and watch, anyway. This is another side of Pete, a side that Vegas appreciates seeing, honestly. He’s carefree and laughing and goofy in a way that makes Vegas’ chest feel just a little too tight with how much he finds it stupidly endearing. It’s like his silly little exercise habit Vegas had discovered - another facet of the whole that just makes up Pete, his Pete, and he’s learning that he loves all of it.
Of course, not everyone ignores him - much to his dismay. Tankhun descends on him shortly after they arrive, and for the next little while Vegas finds himself enduring what seems to be incessant, rambling prattle about the shows that Tankhun likes to watch.
“ Why do you watch these things?” he finally asks, interrupting Tankhun in the middle of a seemingly circular sentence about one character’s plotline. “It sounds like you don’t even like them.”
“I do like them! Sometimes, anyway. When they’re worth my time,” Tankhun replies with a sniff. “The rest of the time I watch them to voice my criticism. Would you rather it be directed at you? I could talk for a good hour or two on that, if you’d prefer.”
That makes Vegas scowl, but just as he’s about to unleash a bit of his temper on Tankhun, he looks across and catches Pete’s gaze. He’s not really doing much other than just standing there, but when their eyes meet Vegas can see the way that Pete’s eyes go to Tankhun and back to him and then back to Tankhun again. He didn’t have to say a word to make his thoughts clear, and in the end Vegas sighs and turns back to Tankhun.
“All right, fair enough. What do you think is going to happen on the next season, then?” he asks, resigned to his fate.
Tankhun beams and immediately starts prattling again, and Vegas winces, glad for the drink he’s nursing. It makes things more bearable, at least.
It’s a little while later when he first notices something… off. He’s not sure what it is, at first, only that his senses are tingling, immediately telling him that there’s something that he should be paying attention to. He straightens and scans the bar, taking in the crowd he’s surrounded by - mostly Tankhun’s idiotic crowd of guards, as well as other patrons of the bar. It takes him a moment to figure out what’s bothering him, but as soon as he does he stiffens, eyes narrowing as they focus on a point across the bar.
Pete’s over there. He’s flushed and happy looking, which makes Vegas’ gaze linger on him a little bit, but he’s mostly distracted by the man with Pete. A man who’s tall and more attractive than Vegas would like, but what’s more important is the way that he’s getting into Pete’s space and eyeing him up in a way that Vegas recognizes all too well. It’s the look of someone on the prowl, someone who’s seen something they like and plans on pursuing it until they get what they want.
It has Vegas on edge and furious in an instant, and he ends up stalking away in the middle of one of Tankhun’s sentences. He hears Tankhun start spluttering indignantly behind him, but ignores it - he’s more focused on Pete, and the man who’s increasingly moving closer, getting into Pete’s personal space. Pete seems unaware - unless he knows and doesn’t mind? The thought briefly makes Vegas’ stomach tighten and he moves just that little bit faster, wanting to get to Pete’s side as soon as possible.
As soon as he’s close enough he slows a little, though. He can see the expression on Pete’s face and that’s enough to make Vegas’ heartbeat slow down a little and start to unknot the bitter tension that’s started to settle into his stomach. Pete’s talking to the man, of course - but Vegas can tell at a glance that he’s just being polite, that he’s a little disinterested and bored, even though he’s smiling and nodding and giving a rather impressive illusion of being engaged in the conversation that the man is having with him. Not everyone would be able to tell that with a look, but this is Pete. His Pete. Vegas makes a point of being able to tell what he’s thinking and feeling.
That takes care of one thing - and it occurs to Vegas that he probably shouldn’t have considered it even for a moment, especially when he thinks back to how Pete had looked at him in their bathroom before they’d come here for the evening. Pete’s chosen him over and over again, and even though Vegas isn’t sure that he’ll ever understand it, he’s started to accept it. Pete likes him being possessive and Vegas doesn’t like other men ogling what belongs to him, though, so… He’s going to indulge himself.
The man is still talking to Pete, and Vegas scowls as he turns his attention to him. Up close he's still tall, still annoyingly attractive in Vegas’ opinion - if someone’s going to hit on his boyfriend, they could at least have the courtesy to be unattractive, he thinks. He’s well dressed and probably wealthy, from what Vegas can gather, and he’s also making it incredibly, blatantly obvious that he’s interested in Pete. His gaze keeps wandering down to where Pete’s left the top button of his shirt open, lingering on the skin there, and he’s leaning into Pete’s space again, making a point to hold his gaze.
Textbook flirting, and it’s really pissing Vegas off.
He changes his angle a little as he approaches so that he can make sure to come up where only Pete can see him. He can see the moment that Pete spots him and gives him a wink, finger lifting to press to his lips before his focus switches back to the man.
“Excuse me.” Politer than he wants to be, if he’s honest - but Pete’s giving him that look, the one that’s asking him to temper things a little bit, so he’ll be good. Or try, at least.
The man glances back over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “We’re fine,” he says, and turns away again.
Vegas scowls at his back, a little incredulous. He doesn’t care who this guy thinks he is, or even who he actually is, really - nobody talks to him like this. “You know, it’s not smart to turn your back on strangers,” he says, raising his voice a little.
One of the guards is standing nearby, and Vegas can see him glancing over, expression a little concerned. It makes Vegas smirk a little - it’s at least a good reminder that those who know him are capable of knowing when they should be concerned.
This time the guy looks irritated when he turns back around, but Vegas doesn’t give him the time to say or do anything more. When it comes to garbage like this, the best thing to do is to just get rid of it immediately before it starts to stink up the place. The man clearly isn’t expecting Vegas to do anything, and that makes it easy as Vegas seizes his arm, deftly twisting it up and behind his back before giving him a shove.
“Why don’t we take a walk, hm?” he says through gritted teeth. He hears Pete say his name, but for the moment he ignores it - he’ll listen eventually , just - not yet. In spite of the height the other man has on him he’s clearly not used to defending himself at all, and it’s easy for Vegas to march him over the door of the bar and then shove him outside.
“Stay out there and you get to keep your limbs,” Vegas says, shooting the man a smirk as he leans up against the doorframe. “Or you can come back inside and I get to play.”
For a moment he thinks that he just might get to indulge himself - he can see a spark of rage in the other man’s gaze as he straightens up, glowering. There’s a long, tense moment as they stand there, the music and laughter from the bar behind Vegas spilling out into the street.
Finally the man shakes his head and makes an irritated sound. “Whatever,” he mutters, and then he stalks off into the night.
Vegas watches him go, resisting the urge to follow. He can still remember the way he’d looked at Pete, how he’d so obviously been moments away from trying to touch or possibly even kiss him. It’s enraging, and he shakes his head as he turns to head back inside, pushing through the throng of people. Now it’s time for him to find Pete.
–
Pete’s a little confused as he stares towards the door of the bar, the direction that his boyfriend has just abruptly vanished in a moment before. He’s not sure exactly what just happened, truthfully. He’d been having a chat with someone - admittedly a stranger, but a nice one, if a little boring - and then suddenly Vegas had shown up out of nowhere and now had hauled him off to kick him out. It doesn’t seem to make much sense to Pete, but… sometimes Vegas is like that, so he’s learned to cope with it.
It’s as though Vegas can hear his thoughts, because a moment later he materializes at Pete’s side and a strong arm wraps around his waist to tug him in close. “Missed me, baby?” Vegas asks, eyebrow lifting as he smiles.
“You were gone for two minutes,” Pete points out, but he still smiles as he turns more towards Vegas. “What was that all about, anyway? He seemed nice.”
“Nice?” Vegas immediately scowls, and his arm tightens around Pete’s waist. “He wasn’t being nice , Pete, he wanted you.”
Pete blinks and then stares at Vegas. He’s sure that his confusion must show on his face, but - well, he is confused, so he’s okay with that. “What?”
“He wanted you,” Vegas repeats, his scowl deepening.
His arm tightens further, and then suddenly his mouth is on Pete’s, kissing him until he’s breathless and even swaying a little. When he opens his eyes Vegas is looking at him with a bit of a pleased expression, and Pete can’t quite hide his smile even though he rolls his eyes. “We were just talking, you know.”
Vegas’ eyes narrow, fixing on Pete intently enough that it makes him feel a little squirmy. He returns it, though, not wanting to look away - this feels important, somehow, even if he’s not sure why .
“You really didn’t even notice, did you,” Vegas says at last. He sounds more thoughtful, now, and the iron grip that he has on Pete’s waist relaxes a little as his lips quirk up at the corners.
Pete starts to ask what he was supposed to notice, but Vegas has already told him that, of course. In the end he just sighs, shoulders lifting. “I wasn’t paying attention,” he admits.
“You weren’t, huh?” Vegas asks, lips curving in a slightly teasing fashion before he leans in to kiss Pete lightly. “I thought you were more observant than that, baby.”
“I am when I’m looking for things that matter ,” Pete argues, but then he sighs and lifts a hand to cup the back of Vegas’ neck so that he can pull him close for a kiss of his own. “Anyway. Forget about him? Come and dance with me. They’ve had some great songs on tonight.”
“This song makes me feel like I’m in danger of having Tankhun descend on me to demonstrate some dance move that exists only in his head,” Vegas mutters.
Pete laughs in spite of himself, but tugs Vegas with him as they move back towards the dance floor. “Come on, it’ll be fun. And I’ll shield you from Tankhun, he - Oh.”
He stops as the song comes to an end, leaving a lull in the beat that had been pulsing through the bar a moment before. “Oh,” he said, sighing with a hint of disappointment that only increases when the next song kicks in - a slower, more romantic one. Not Vegas' style at all. “Never mind, I guess.”
“Never mind?” Vegas questions, eyebrows lifting. “I thought we just said we were going to dance.”
“We were, but - “ Pete shrugs his shoulders and then gives Vegas a small smile. “It’s ok, the song changed.” Dancing is something Vegas doesn’t usually do, nevermind slow dancing to a song that sounds romantic even from the opening bars.
“What, do you not want to dance with me now?” Vegas asks.
His expression is slightly challenging, and Pete blinks and stares for a moment before smiling cautiously. “If you want to, I do, but - “
He’s not given the chance to finish his sentence, because Vegas shakes his head and catches Pete’s hand in his. “Then come on, baby,” he says, and then he leads Pete towards the dance floor.
The song is warm and slow, and the dance floor has mostly emptied other than a few couples who are scattered here and there. Light plays gently over the area, highlighting the planes and angles of Vegas’ face as the two of them come to a stop in an empty spot, and Pete just looks at him for a moment. He’s aware that some of his friends and former coworkers are at the fringes of the dance floor, probably watching - it makes him think of Pol and how he’s still vaguely disapproving and confused by his relationship with Vegas. Right now none of that seems to matter, though, not when Vegas is looking at him the way that he is right now.
“We really don’t have to do this, you know,” Pete offers quietly.
Vegas raises an eyebrow and then steps in closer, an arm sliding around Pete’s waist to draw him closer. “What, so you can dance at home when you’re exercising, but not with me?” he asks, lips quirking slightly.
Pete gives a half-hearted glare at that, though he knows he’s smiling. “You’re not supposed to use that against me.”
“I’m not using anything against you, it was just a question,” Vegas responds, looking amused.
The two of them are just standing there on the dance floor, Pete realizes. He’s about to say something about it, but stops when Vegas reaches for and takes his hand, fingers warm on his as he lifts it. Vegas’ gaze is intent on his face, and as they look at each other Pete feels Vegas start to move, drawing Pete with him as he gently falls into rhythm with the beat of the song.
There’s something about the moment that feels entirely different than anything else they’ve done, Pete thinks. Vegas’ hand is warm where it’s spread out against his lower back, and there’s a certain almost gentleness to it all, to the way Vegas is holding him as they move together to the music, swaying together in perfect harmony. It’s not something that Pete’s necessarily unfamiliar with, not now that they’ve been together for awhile - but he’s not sure that Vegas has ever done anything like this with people watching, before. Not just strangers, either - people who know him, who know Vegas. This is Vegas choosing to show a side of him he usually keeps hidden - choosing to be just a little more open and vulnerable than he usually is.
Something in his chest tightens a little at the thought, and he moves a little closer, just gazing into Vegas’ eyes.
“All right, baby?” Vegas asks, his voice soft. He’s still looking at Pete the same way, eyes dark and warm in a way that makes Pete feel a little like he could just lose himself in them. It makes Pete’s stomach tense a little, and he inhales slowly, feeling a bit like he’s suddenly a giddy teenager all over again.
“It’s only you, you know,” he says, mostly impulsive.
Vegas frowns briefly, but then simply draws Pete even closer, his hand gentle as he slides it up a bit further on Pete’s back. “What’s only me?” he asks.
Pete grimaces, but then shrugs his shoulders as he moves his hand up a little to rest at the nape of Vegas’ neck. “I didn’t notice the guy because he doesn’t matter,” he says softly. “With that sort of thing - you’re the only one that I care about. That I notice.”
There’s a quiet moment as they just look at each other, and the music washes over the two of them, soft and almost dreamlike in quality. It sends a little tingle down Pete’s spine - or maybe it’s the look in Vegas’ eyes, the way that his hand has suddenly tightened on Pete’s until it almost hurts.
“It’s only you for me too, baby,” Vegas says at last. His voice is soft, almost wondering - it makes Pete smile a little, hearing that note in it. He recognizes it because he feels it too sometimes - that this is real, that they really have each other.
The song has come to an end, he realizes - but the next is just as soft and slow, and somehow he knows that it’s probably just for the two of them, that somewhere Porsche and Yok are watching. It makes him smile, but he doesn’t look around - not right now, when he’s focused on Vegas.
“Love you, baby,” Vegas murmurs, and his eyes are dark and warm in a way that makes Pete never want to look away.
“I love you too,” Pete says softly, and when Vegas draws him in even closer he goes, shifting until he finds just the right spot and can let his cheek rest against Vegas’ as the dance and the music continue, slow and soft.
At least just for now, for the two of them, this is all that matters.