Vegas took the longer way back to the lake house. He hadn’t thought about it, but found himself on the winding, unmade road that twisted through sparse trees, following the course of the river. He could see flashes of the bright, blue water through the snatching branches; moments of light through cross crossing shadows reaching for them. His bike threw parts of the road behind him, deep gouges cut into the ground where he’d been. He sped up, rushing now to get back to the house, even after choosing this longer road. Vegas couldn’t decide what he wanted, and all he could think of was how Pete would be there, waiting for him, but with an eye on the door and the escape path beyond.

He had to remind himself that there was no need for escape now, no need to worry that Pete would run away from him like before. He had the keys to any car he wanted, the promise of an open door, and the only chains left to them were the ones Pete would wrap around his own wrists.

But there was an unease around their hidden lake house. There was the thought in the back of Vegas’ mind, the look in Pete’s face when he thought Vegas wasn’t looking, and the creeping voice that screamed almost silently as Vegas whenever he wasn’t moving; ’you did it again, you did it again, you hit him, you fuck’. The voice hissed at Vegas just loud enough that he forced the bike on faster, letting the wind scream louder and drown it out, for a moment.

Then the house was in front of him, and he allowed himself a moment to picture Pete inside, that full, perfect smile filling his face as Vegas came in, the cute way he would gently cup Vegas’ face and pull him closer, the smile stopping their kiss for just a moment longer, forcing a giggle form Pete and a grin from Vegas.

Vegas felt himself smiling as he thought of it, and for a moment everything was ok, and always would be. Pete was his, he knew this, he’d left everything for Vegas, to care for him and love him. Pete was his. 

‘But he shouldn’t be,’ the voice spat at him from the back of his mind.

Vegas pulled the helmet from his head and threw it angrily onto the ground next to him. He immediately regretted it, the image of Pete standing by the window watching him, and flinching at the move. He sometimes caught Pete flinch from him, and it stung him every time.

‘Then stop hurting him’, the voice again.

Vegas pulled a bag from his jacket pocket and checked the contents. A selection of spices still held safely in their own little bags, each one bright and promising. Vegas smiled and pushed the little bags back into his pocket, while rushing to the front door.

The house was spacious, with tiled floors and sparse furnishings, and this meant that when it was empty, it sent echoes around the walls. Vegas shouted Pete’s name, heard his voice bounce back to him. It sounded harsh, violent. He tried again, bringing softness into the name, the softness he saw in his Pete.

There was no reply.

Vegas ran into the kitchen, then through into the lounge and on into the large office Pete liked to play games in. He was nowhere. Vegas’ stomach fell from him, a coldness chased up his spine, and for a moment he felt more alone than ever before.

He wandered through the house, checked their bedroom, and each of the other bedroom, leaving the one room he tried to ignore until last.

It was set aside form the main house. Originally a garage, the windows had been painted over with thick, red paint, both to hide what was inside from everyone, and to throw red light across it. It had amused Vegas to distort the eyes of the person trapped inside, to add to their terror with this simple, obvious trick. He hadn’t stepped inside that room since Pete ran from it, and Vegas was left bleeding across the floor.

He walked slowly to the room. Vegas didn’t want Pete to be there. He wanted to run outside and find one of the cars missing. He wanted to have to chase after Pete, race down the main road and catch him up. He’d look shocked at the site of Vegas’ bike racing up to him, and pull the car over. Vegas would run up to the car door and pull it open, diving into Pete’s arms. Pete would laugh no stroke Vegas’ head. he was only going down to the shop, he wanted to pick up some of Vegas’ favourite wine, or maybe they were out of toothpaste. it would be something silly, and they’d both laugh.

This is what Vegas wanted, he did not want wha the found.

He walked to the red room, and the door had been left open. It was dark inside, as the sun was setting, and only some weak beams made their way through the chipped, red paint.

Vegas moved towards the bed that sat under chains that fell down front he ceiling. Pete sat on the floor, hidden on the other side of the bed. His knees were pulled up to his chest and he rested his chin on them. He looked up at Vegas, and tried a small smile. Even with his eyes looking so sad, the smallest smile would light up his face.

‘What are you doing in here?’ Vegas asked him, trying to make his voice as soft as he could.

Pete shrugged, and the smile fell away.

Vegas sat down opposite Pete, and reached out to place his hand on Pete’s knee. Pete looked at Vegas’ hand, but didn’t move away.

‘Why are you in here?’ Vegas asked again.

‘I just felt like it,’ Pete answered quietly.

‘I don’t want you in here,’ Vegas said.

‘You used to,’ Pete managed to move his eyes up to Vegas’, his stare both scared, and accusing.

‘That was different.’

‘Was it?’ Pete dropped his knees down and leaned towards Vegas.

Vegas reached out and cupped Pete’s face. ‘I’m sorry,’ his voice quiet and barely heard. ‘I shouldn’t have hit you, I was just, angry. I couldn’t…’

‘Please don’t say you can’t help yourself.’ Pete whispered, tears forming in the rims of his eyes, ‘you could, if you felt you should.’

Vegas let Pete go, and leaned back against the bed. The coldness returned to his spine. He was loosing Pete. He couldn’t lose Pete. ‘Look,’ he pulled the spices from his pocket, ‘I bought thee today, we’d run out of some things. I’m going to cook for you, you know I love cooking for you.’ He smiled the crooked smile Pete would melt to.

Pete didn’t smile, but instead he moved towards Vegas, onto his lap, straddling him. He bent down to kiss Vegas, his tongue slipping immediately, desperately into Vegas’ mouth.

Vegas felt the passion in Pete’s kiss. he wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist and pulled him closer, digging his fingers into Pete’s back. He didn’t mean to, but he wanted to show Pete his own passion, and the moan that lightly left Pete’s lips made Vegas did into him even more.

Suddenly Pete stood up, and pulled off his T-shirt, dropping it to the ground next to Vegas. So Vegas jumped up, moving towards Pete, who backed away, now his own true smile crinkling up his eyes.

Pete moved backwards to the foot of the bed, then stood with his back to it. Vegas stood in front of him, and watched as Pete reached up and back to the chains hanging there, wrapping them around his arms.

‘Pete,’ Vegas started, moving closer to Pete, ‘let’s go to our bedroom.’

Pete leaned towards him, ‘this is our bedroom,’ he said, and kiss Vegas again.

Vegas grabbed him, pulling him against the chains, kissing his lips, then down to his neck and across his chest. Vegas’ tongue found Pete’s right nipple, and licked him. He then moved back up to kiss Pete’s mouth deeply, pushing into him and biting his bottom lip, just enough to hurt. He felt Pete tensing, his breath quicker.

Vegas pulled at Pete’s belt, and stripped Pete so he stood naked in front of him. But then he paused for just a moment. ‘Please, let’s go upstairs,’ he said, his voice quivering at the sight of Pete.

Pete smiled at him, at once perfect, innocent, and knowing Vegas completely. ‘We have to face this room sometime,’ he murmured ‘Fuck me,’ and Vegas lunged at him.

Vegas’ shaking hand fumbled in his pocket for his wallet, where he hoped he had just one more condom. He found one, and ripped it open with his teeth. He picked Pete up so he could wrap his legs round Vegas’ waist. Vegas gave up being soft, he knew Pete didn’t want him to be, and he thrust into Pete. Pete let out a sharp scream, and Vegas felt his legs grip him even tighter.

They moved together, synchronised, until they felt each other shiver, and Vegas fell into Pete.

He gently lifted Pete, so he could untangle his arms form the chains, and they fell onto the bed. Vegas kissed across Pete’s chest and stomach, his tongue lightly grazing the scars there, deep gouges cut into the skin where Vegas had been. Then he kissed along Pete’s arms, savouring the red marks left there by the chains. He felt Pete’s breath calm now, slow and satisfied. He moved back up to see Pete’s smile, sweet and perfect, across his face.

‘I’m sorry, Pete,’ Vegas said, ‘I’ll try harder.’

‘I don’t need to you try,’ Pete said quietly, ‘I need you to just stop doing it to me.’

‘I know, I will,’ Vegas said, and he almost believed it, this time.

They lay quietly together for a while, until Pete whispered, ‘I just said that I wanted to see them. I didn’t mean without you, or to get away from you. I wish you would trust me, I’m yours, Vegas.’

Vegas felt himself tense, but he wouldn’t let himself, not this time. He breathed deeply, and said, ‘ok, Pete, we’ll go see them’.

He looked up at Pete’s big grin, and smiled back at him. For a moment, everything was wonderful.