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Pete was absolutely perfect. Without a doubt, he was perfect on his own, in every way, but he was especially perfect for Vegas. To celebrate this delicious perfection, Vegas wanted to spoil him a little. It was coming up on their anniversary after all.
One year, since Vegas had brought Pete to the safehouse and Pete had shifted his perspective completely. One year, since Pete had changed the way Vegas thought about himself and his situation. One year, since Pete had submitted to Vegas, thoroughly ensnaring him in the process. Vegas had been completely bewitched, body and soul, since the first taste of salt on Pete’s warm skin. He was an addict. Addicted to giving pain as much as Pete was addicted to taking whatever Vegas would give him.
Vegas knew how to be gentle, of course. He had learned with his pet hedgehogs, and with Macau. But there was a completely different type of gentleness one needed when handling a lover. Gradually, over the months, Pete had shown him that gentleness. He had been so, so patient with Vegas, learning when Vegas needed to slow down, and when he needed to push him harder. He had spent hours one night, just caressing Vegas’s face and raining gentle kisses down on him after he had woken, sweating and shaking from a particularly cruel nightmare.
Through Pete’s gentleness, Vegas had learned to nurture his own. Make no mistake, Vegas still itched to make Pete cry. He still strove to chip away at his armor, little by little, until Pete was quaking beneath him, snot and tears running down his face and cum painting decadent stripes across his scars. They had a safeword, for Vegas’s peace of mind, but Pete had yet to use it. Vegas hoped he never had to, but he was constantly amazed at how far Pete was able to go. Perfection indeed.
Vegas loved to have Pete tied up, shivering with ecstasy and moaning Vegas’s name like a prayer. It sounded like the purest holy chant coming from Pete’s sin-eating lips. They had tried all sorts of restraints: cuffs, spreader bars, bed restraints, and shibari rope. In a pinch, they had used zip ties. Quite often they found themselves using one or both of their belts, whenever they had been desperate for a fuck at the office or in the car. Once, they had been in an alley with Vegas using Pete’s shirt to twist around his wrists, giving Vegas something to anchor onto while he drove himself deep into Pete.
An anniversary was something special, though. Something meant to be treasured and remembered. Vegas had been searching for something Pete wouldn’t expect. He had found it online one night, adding it to cart while Pete slept next to him, snuggled into his chest. Vegas had paced the house for days waiting for his package to arrive. If Pete noticed (how could a main family bodyguard not) he didn’t say anything, just smiled lovingly at Vegas.
Vegas heard the truck one sunny afternoon and darted out of the house to check. Sure enough, his gift had arrived. Grinning, Vegas slipped the small parcel into his shirt and ran back into the house to hide it carefully.
The day had come. Macau had left the house for the night to stay with Chay after some not-so-subtle hints from Vegas. Vegas made steaks for dinner, taking the time to cut Pete’s up for him in small pieces. He poured them each a glass of their favorite wine and turned on some light jazz. Hell, he even lit candles to set the mood.
“What did you do?” Pete finally blurted after his second glass of wine.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you didn’t cheat on me or anything, but you must have broken something. You’re acting weird.”
Vegas sipped his wine slowly, his face a perfect mask of innocence.
“Am I not allowed to pamper my sweetheart?”
Pete squinted his eyes at Vegas, his mouth turned down in a curious frown. Pete thought hard, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in a way that was dangerously distracting to Vegas.
“What’s today?” Pete half-shouted.
Vegas smiled wolfishly at his prey. He knew Pete was smart. He would figure it out eventually.
“Are you counting this as an anniversary?” Pete said, laughing.
“It was our first kiss, after all.”
Vegas slid his chair back to stand before walking purposely toward Pete. Placing a hand on the back of Pete’s chair, Vegas angled him away from the table enough for Vegas to straddle his thigh. Pete instinctively wrapped both arms around Vegas’s waist, leaning his head back to stare into Vegas’s dark eyes. Vegas felt Pete go slack beneath him, his muscles relaxing as Vegas leaned down to hold Pete’s chin between his thumb and forefinger as he pressed their lips together. Pete moaned into the kiss, parting his lips enough for Vegas to dart his tongue inside. He loved tasting Pete.
Each.
And.
Every.
Part.
“I have a present,” Vegas whispered when he pulled away, relishing in the way Pete’s eyes fluttered open dreamily.
With the gentleness Pete taught him, Vegas led Pete to their bedroom.
“Strip,” he commanded, his cock twitching at the shiver that ran through Pete. Pete unbuttoned his shirt slowly, watching Vegas through lidded eyes. Vegas began to circle him, watching his pet obey him so well. When his shirt was folded and placed on their bedroom couch, Pete popped the top button of his pants off, slowly undoing his zipper so that it made no sound. Vegas growled and Pete smiled, moving incrementally faster.
When his pants were folded, Vegas’s patience reached its limit. He grabbed Pete around the waist, spinning him around to kiss him again. When they broke apart, Vegas nodded and Pete jumped to wrap his legs around Vegas’s waist so Vegas could carry him to the bed. With Pete safely sprawled on their mattress, Vegas lunged forward to pull off Pete’s underwear. Pete was already half-hard, his cock a lovely blushing pink. Without warning, Vegas licked a stripe up the underside of Pete’s dick, pressing his tongue flat against the vein there as he felt Pete harden more, his cock twitching and swelling further as Vegas wrapped his teeth gently around the frenulum. Pete hissed when Vegas applied a little pressure before easing up to lick pre-cum from Pete’s slit.
“Vegas…”
“Yes, love?”
“Want you…”
With greedy hands, Pete reached toward Vegas, pulling him up into a heated kiss. Pete loved tasting himself on Vegas’s tongue and moaned so Vegas knew.
“Patience, sweetheart. I still have to give you your gift.”
Vegas nipped at Pete’s jaw, his chest, and his soft belly as he worked his way down. Pete ran his fingers through Vegas’s soft hair as he hissed with each flash of teeth against his creamy skin. With each lick from Vegas, with each firm caress on his flesh, Pete melted. Vegas hummed happily as Pete became pliable with desire.
Vegas loved to bring the pain, but he delighted in the knowledge that Pete felt safe and secure with him. Pete trusted him completely, enough to surrender his body completely to Vegas’s whims. He knew that Vegas could make him bleed, and make him cry, but also knew that Vegas would take care of him. If he did bleed, Vegas would bandage him later. If he did cry, Vegas would wipe away his tears and hold him close. He had never felt such love and adoration until Vegas.
With a rush of cold air, Vegas lifted off of Pete, quelling the whine rising in Pete’s throat by keeping a warm hand against Pete’s muscular thigh.
“I’m just grabbing your gift, kitten. I’m not going anywhere.”
Vegas walked to his bedside table and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a small black pouch. Pete perked up seeing it, wondering what it could possibly be. A new toy?
Vegas glanced at Pete and opened the pouch. Slowly he pulled out a pair of beautiful silk ribbon handcuffs with large bows tied on them. They were a soft, peach color. Peach for Pete, Vegas had thought upon first laying eyes on them.
Pete inhaled deeply with anticipation, sitting up as Vegas sat next to him on their wide bed.
“They’re lovely,” Pete sighed, reaching out a finger to gently stroke the ribbon.
“You deserve the best,” Vegas said, leaning forward to kiss Pete wetly. When he pulled away, breathless, Pete held his wrists out with a glimmer in his eyes. Vegas was hit again with the image of Pete leaning forward their first night together to hand him a rope. Pete had trusted Vegas then, and he trusted Vegas still. The weight of that trust had Vegas’s heart skipping a beat.
Carefully, Vegas attached the cuffs, watching as Pete twisted his wrists to slowly admire them, repeating, “Lovely.”
Vegas pressed Pete’s chest into the mattress, telling him, “Flip over.”
Pete quickly did as he was told, arching his back as he spread his cuffed hands out in front of him. Once his shoulders were comfortable, Pete pressed his cheek into the mattress and steadied his breathing, relaxing himself for what was to come next.
Vegas undressed, knowing he would be too impatient later, and retrieved their favorite lube, setting it next to Pete’s leg on the bed. With a firm slap to the inside of Pete’s thigh, Vegas urged his lover’s legs wider apart. Pete complied.
“Color?” Vegas asked, running his hand over Pete’s lower back.
“Peach,” Pete replied cheekily, earning him an open-handed smack to his round ass.
“Pete,” Vegas warned.
“Green, Vegas.”
“Good boy.”
“Love you,” Pete said, and Vegas could tell without looking that he was smiling.
“So much,” Vegas responded, dipping down to lick a hot line up Pete’s crack. Pete trembled, a small giggle bursting from him.
Using both hands, Vegas spread Pete’s cheeks wide, kissing his rim before spitting. Pete’s hole was already fluttering, making Vegas growl. He thumbed around Pete’s hole, spreading the spit so it glistened in the light. Wanting to see how relaxed he was, Vegas pressed the tip of his thumb into Pete’s hole, making Pete shudder. Quickly, Pete tried to press back against him, earning him another echoing slap.
“Patience,” Vegas repeated, “I want to taste you, just like that night.”
Pete moaned lightly, the memories of that night hitting him hard as he was left licking his arm again out of desperation. He wanted to be licking Vegas but knew he needed to be patient. He needed to be good for Vegas. So good.
Vegas removed his thumb and replaced it with his tongue again, throwing himself fully into working Pete open. Pete rocked back and forth, the movement barely noticeable if Vegas wasn’t so in tune with Pete’s body. Vegas gave one last lick and leaned back to coat his finger in lube, spreading some around Pete’s rim before pressing a finger inside, just up to the first knuckle. Vegas wrapped his other hand around Pete’s waist, thumbing over his tattoo as he pressed in deeper, removing his finger before thrusting it in again. He knew Pete liked a little burn. When he was ready, Vegas added a second finger, scissoring him open while he dragged his nails over Pete’s balls.
When he added a finger, Pete was panting in earnest, rubbing his face against their soft sheets as his fingers clenched around the silk bows on his wrists.
“Please,” he whined, biting his lip. “Please, Vegas. Let me come.”
“You can hold it,” Vegas murmured, his calm voice contradicting the rough movement of his hand.
“Please,” Pete protested, his breath catching in his chest in a crescendo.
As punishment, Vegas sank his teeth into Pete’s round ass hard enough to draw blood. Pete screamed as he came, untouched.
Vegas stroked Pete’s prostate as the aftershocks hit him. Finally, when Pete was crying from overstimulation, he withdrew to leave Pete clenching around nothing.
“I won’t leave you empty long, even though you didn’t listen.”
Pete hummed, unable to form words.
“I’m not angry, Pete. It’s a special day, so I’ll forgive you.”
Pete’s chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, shuddering and shivering occasionally from the lingering sensations.
“First,” Vegas said, rolling Pete over and into a sitting position, “You need to get me ready for you.”
After wiping the lube from his hand onto the sheets, Vegas grabbed a water bottle from their side table and brought it to Pete’s mouth so he could drink. Once he was satisfactorily hydrated, Vegas finished the bottle and kissed Pete softly, slowly, licking along his teeth and nipping at him. Pete reacted slowly, but he was still able to react, so Vegas knew they could continue.
“Color? Tap once for red, twice for yellow, and three times for green.”
Pete blinked but did as requested, tapping three times on Vegas’s open palm.
“Good boy,” Vegas said, and Pete grinned drunkenly.
Vegas kissed him again and grabbed the lube again, coating his semi-hard member and placing some in Pete’s palms. Understanding what Vegas wanted, Pete moved closer to stroke Vegas, starting slowly. Vegas closed his eyes, letting his head fall back while he focused on Pete’s hands. They began to move a little faster, his grip a little tighter as the silk brushed against Vegas’s cock, dragging through the lube.
“You feel so good, baby,” Vegas moaned, thrusting into Pete’s hands. He looked down to see Pete watching him carefully, his dark brown eyes clouded with lust. Vegas couldn’t wait any longer, he needed to fuck into Pete’s tight heat.
Vegas moved until he was kneeling behind Pete, helping him get up on his knees until they were pressed back to front. Pete leaned back, putting his full weight on Vegas as Vegas lifted his arms high until they were wrapped around the back of Vegas’s neck, his torso taut like the string on a bow. Vegas slicked himself once more and pulled Pete’s legs apart, thrusting into him in one sharp snap of his hips. Pete gasped at the intrusion, his insides clenching tightly around Vegas’s cock as he adjusted, while Vegas mouthed along Pete’s soft neck until Pete relaxed.
Vegas pulled out almost all the way before rolling his hips forward slower this time to burrow himself into Pete again. It felt like coming home. Pete was his safe space. With Pete, Vegas was never a burden, never an annoyance. Pete wanted all of him, wanted him all to himself, and Vegas felt the same way. He wanted to eat Pete alive while Pete consumed him until they formed an ouroboros.
Vegas built a steady rhythm, bucking into Pete while Pete clawed at the back of his neck, his breath coming in short, small gasps.
Vegas reached down with one hand, feeling that Pete was already hard again. He curled his fingers around Pete, letting his thrusts behind Pete move his lover in his hand. Vegas bit Pete’s earlobe and licked the sweat running along his jaw. He never wanted this to end. Pete pulled at the hair on the nape of Vegas’s neck, urging him to move faster. With his free hand, Vegas reached up to wrap his fingers around the sides of Pete’s neck, applying just enough pressure that Pete would feel it. Pete moaned loudly before Vegas cut the sound off, leaving a ghost of pleasure.
After counting carefully, Vegas eased up, letting Pete draw in a gasping breath before squeezing again. Vegas knew Pete looked fucking gorgeous, but he needed to see him. After three more rough thrusts, Vegas pulled out and carefully unhooked Pete from around his neck. Pete went limp. Vegas twisted and rolled him carefully until he was on his back on the bed, his arms up above his head. Climbing between his legs again, Vegas clenched his fingers around the back of Pete’s thighs as he pressed his legs up and back, finding the angle he wanted before thrusting back into Pete’s abused hole.
“Want to see your pretty face,” Vegas grunted. “Want to see you taking me so well.”
Pete could barely keep his eyes open but he tried his best, wanting to watch Vegas pound into him mercilessly. With eyes rolling back in his head, Pete’s vision went white as he came again. Vegas shuddered as Pete clenched tight around him and soon enough he was coming too, filling Pete with the evidence of his devotion.
Vegas collapsed carefully onto Pete’s chest, their sweat and cum mixing together. Vegas was still buried to the hilt with no intention of moving any time soon. They lost track of time, but eventually, Pete shivered and Vegas moved to grab a wipe so they could clean up before sleeping.
“Don’t,” Pete said, wrapping his legs around Vegas’s waist and throwing his arms around his shoulders to hold him close.
“Okay, love,” Vegas said sweetly, soothing Pete immediately. “I’m just going to wipe us up and take off the cuffs, then we can grab the blanket. I promise I’ll stay right here.”
Pete sighed with relief, relaxing again to let Vegas clean them as thoroughly as he could while still inside of Pete. That done, Vegas undid the cuffs, placing them carefully on the bedside table before pulling the comforter over both of them. Luckily, they had landed in a relatively dry spot on the bed, so Pete was warm and comfortable and safe under his love.
Vegas kissed Pete’s lips, his chin, and his chest, before laying his head down so he could listen to Pete’s heartbeat. Pete liked to lay like that often, listening to Vegas’s heartbeat. When Vegas had asked him about it, Pete had looked away, picking at the skin around his nail as he told Vegas that after the pool, when he had felt Vegas’s heartbeat slow down, he often needed reminders that it was better.
After that, Vegas let him listen whenever he felt uneasy. He had often been soothed by the steady beating of Pete’s heart, so he understood.
“Thank you,” Pete said finally, yawning deeply.
Vegas smiled. “Happy anniversary, love.”
The two halves fell asleep like that, joined together intimately and so in love it felt impossible to have lived any other way.