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“That’s hot,” Pete suddenly said, Vegas nearly snapping his head in Pete’s direction as the words left his mouth. Pete was on his phone, and as Vegas peered over he noticed the man was scrolling through what seemed like Instagram. “Don’t you think so?” Pete turned the phone over to Vegas, who adjusted his glasses as he held a finger over the page of the book he was on, so he wouldn’t lose where he was at. “Hm?” Vegas hummed in response, trying to play it off as if he hadn’t just felt the prickling urge to snatch a glance at Pete’s phone with jealousy beforehand. “His nails, don’t you think so? I wonder…” Pete took one of Vegas’ hands into his own, almost as if he were analyzing every last detail of his hand, which Vegas found a bit funny.
“You do have pretty hands,” Pete mumbled, his thumb sweetly swiping over the back of Vegas’ hand as he only smiled at him. Vegas couldn’t help mirroring the action as he kissed right over Pete’s dimple. “You’re so damn cute,” Vegas said, Pete only laughing at that. “Only cute?” Pete tested, and Vegas only arched an eyebrow at that, leaning a bit closer as the tips of their noses brushed each other. “Don’t tempt me, baby,” Vegas whispered, and Pete’s smile never dropped, nor did his. “Macau’s home,” Pete warned as Vegas shut his book (forget about reading, at this point,) and set it off to the side. “So?” Vegas smirked, and Pete placed a hand on his bicep. “Don’t so me, asshole,” Pete glared, though no real heat behind it. Vegas pushed him down on the couch, hovering over him as he leaned down close enough to press his forehead to Pete’s, the two practically sharing air with each other by this point. “Brat,” Vegas’ voice was sharp, though just as Pete, did not hold any true heat to it. He held Pete’s hands above his head, while his other hand slipped up Pete’s shirt. Pete was about to say something before the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps interrupted and nearly completely ruined the moment.
“Oh, come on! Every time!” Macau turned around immediately, taking in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. “When I open my eyes and turn around, what I just saw will be no longer,” Macau waited a moment, Vegas looking between his figure standing not too far away and Pete, who was barely able to contain his laughter but also visibly embarrassed at being caught like that – might Vegas add, again. “I’m turning around, now,” Vegas sat up, pulling Pete up with him as he crossed his arms and glared at Macau. Pete could only think that Vegas looked like an angry kid as he did so, and his smile was uncontained at that thought. “What was so important?” Vegas watched as Macau sat in the armchair beside the sofa he and Pete were sitting on.
“I wanted to get pork skewers for dinner–” Macau said freely as if he hadn’t just ruined the mood for Vegas and Pete. Vegas grabbed a pillow off of the couch and threw it at his little brother. “Are you kidding me!?” Vegas grumbled though he eventually softened up, just shaking his head as he leaned back on the sofa. Macau seemed to find this amusing, and so did Pete – and, Vegas couldn’t find it in him to truly be mad, anyways.
The next morning, Vegas left the house to go run some errands. Mostly having in mind going to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients to make Pete dinner, as he said he was craving something spicy (Vegas wondered if the man ever didn’t). He went alone, as Pete didn’t really feel like going out, and Macau was at school. As he walked down the streets, his gaze landed on a small shop – a salon, it seemed. He surveyed the window, which showed a general overview of the business services. He thought back to Pete, and eventually, he decided to step inside.
A bell above the door dinged as he entered, signaling his presence as he looked around the area. It looked clean and polished, probably above average at least. He was in the good part of town anyways. There were many good shops and places around here (and he always made sure he took Pete to the best of him, he enjoyed spoiling him much more than he’d like to admit). “What a face…” One lady murmured, though another one stepped ahead of her and rushed over to Vegas. He thought, they probably knew who he was, word definitely spreads.
“How can I help you?” Vegas looked back over at the lady after thoroughly examining the area. He was sure his bodyguards either lost him the second he stepped in here or were confused beyond belief. It wasn’t typical of Vegas, though it wouldn’t come as a shock to someone like Pete or Macau, as they knew Vegas didn’t care too much about the concept of doing things like these. He almost smiled at the memory of when he let Pete try some makeup look on him that he’d seen on a celebrity or something of the sort. Pete liked it, which as a result made Vegas also like it (Pete’s skills were also not bad, his hands were steady, Vegas would give him that).
Vegas hated every moment of that whole encounter within the salon, but he left a sizable tip before he left, as he had to admit he’d been a bit difficult. He just found it a bit discomforting having someone touch his hands and massage his arms like that, especially considering it wasn’t Pete. Maybe he was just a bit possessive. Just a bit. But, he would only admit that to Pete – though, others could probably see it regardless. Vegas was left admiring his fingernails from the moment he left, looking at them in a different light and hesitantly running his fingers over the work, worried he’d mess it up if he pressed too hard. It was all black and white, but there were a few very tiny gems on some of his nails, though it wasn’t over the top. He didn’t want something too colorful, too much. He didn’t hate this, he thought.
After actually running the errands he’d come out to do, he headed back home, seeing a concerned message from Pete asking him where he was, which brought a small grin to his face. Pete was clearly still worried for Vegas’ safety after everything that had happened, sometimes Pete would tell Vegas about his concerns that there may be some old holdouts waiting to get him, but Vegas tried to ease that worry by always leaving with two bodyguards on him.
“You’re back. You don’t normally take that long, were they out of chilies?” Pete joked around, helping Vegas with the few bags he had. “I just decided to do a little something,” Vegas said, though left it vague and didn’t say anything else. “A little something?” Pete eyed him suspiciously as he put the bag he’d taken down on the countertop. “Vegas. We have enough toys–” Vegas shook his head, laughing at the worry. “No, not that. Though, I would argue there’s never too much,” Vegas winked at Pete, who just sighed and shook his head. “I just… Thought, maybe you’d like it? I thought they didn’t look too bad…” Vegas held his hands out in front of Pete, watching as Pete looked at his face with confusion, before looking down and all but ogling. “You really!? I think I love you even more, which shouldn’t be possible,” Pete said, and Vegas only laughed, unable to resist kissing Pete’s dimple, yet again. It should be a crime to be so cute, he thought.
“You like it?” Vegas asked, as Pete held his hands with a giant smile. “I think it looks great on you. Next time we should get it done together,” Pete suggested, and Vegas couldn’t turn that down. He thought he could endure the weird touches once more if Pete was there with him – and then again, he had to agree it did look good. “I don’t mind that,” Vegas replied, watching as Pete carefully ran his fingers over the gems smiling as brightly as he did. Vegas wondered how someone as bad as him got so lucky to end up with Pete.