i.

                                    

                                          
Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart
Baby, bang it up inside
I'm not wearing my usual lipstick
I thought maybe we would kiss tonight.
Pete looks at the timeー it's already 12 AM, he was supposed to meet Vegas by 9.
They had been planning on going on a date for a few weeks now, but having been too busy to actually do it, this was the one and only free time they both had. Pete has been very busy with taking care of Venice and being second head of the minor family whilst still (kind of) being a "bodyguard" while Vegas... Vegas has been busy with almost the same things, but with more violence, he guesses.
Vegas has been oddly distant lately. They haven't had sex in four days, which to some couples it wouldn't be a big deal but considering that this is Vegas we're talking about, with Vegas usually there is always sex. However now their intimacy is close to nothing but good night kisses and morning pecks.
Pete had initially thought it was because they're so busy, but now he's starting to doubt that's the case.
But it's been a while since they've had time for themselves, so Pete made sure to dress up especially well today. He styled his hair albeit not having any experience with doing so, he wore Vegas' favorite slacks because he mentioned Pete's ass looked especially delightful in it, he wore his favorite cologne, and heck, he even showered thrice today. But it's been hours and the restaurant they had a reservation to had already closed an hour or two ago and now he's sitting by the entrance. Alone.
Growing impatient and worried again, Pete decides to text Vegas for the umpteenth time.
Baby will you kiss me already and
Toss your dirty shoes in my washing machine heart?
Baby, bang it up inside.
Again, Vegas doesn't reply. Pete's worries and fears start creeping up on him and he was about to stand up to find out what the hell happened to his lover when he noticed a car stopping in front of him, Vegas walking out of it right after.
"Vegas! Where have you been? Do you have any idea how worried I was? Why didn't you reply to my messages? Answer my calls? What-" Pete said all at once, feeling exasperated and annoyed. Vegas gives him a sharp look in response before cutting him off,
"Sorry, I was busy."
Pete furrowed his brows. What was wrong with him? And why does he look like he's in a bad mood?
Should I feel bad for blabbing so much? He was the one who stood me up, right?
"...I waited for you," Pete says instead, pathetically.
He's tired and he doesn't want to argue right now. He's upset too, because he really tried his best to look good today. For Vegas.
Still, Vegas makes no move to reassure Pete and that both upsets and confuses the latter even more.
"I was with Porsche. He needed me for something," Vegas sighs. "I think we should do this another time. I'm really tired right now, Pete."
Porsche needed you?
Pete silently thinks to himself.
What could Porsche possibly need you for that's more important than me?
Even as he starts to overthink, Pete makes no move to speak, argue, nor complain. Vegas doesn't look like he's in the mood either, and the sour expression on his face confirms that.
Pete had hoped Vegas would at least notice how good he looked today. But instead he entered his car first, leaving Pete just standing there.
Baby, though I've closed my eyes
I know who you pretend I am.