He snorted a laugh and began patting the rivulets of water from Pete's body with the extra towel. Vegas always knew that Pete had a body under his clothes -- he had to as a bodyguard -- but he appreciated it even more right now as he ran the towel over toned muscle and warm skin. That was all for him now and he couldn't help smiling at the thought.
"What kind of husband would I be if I didn't plan to get you back to bed safely?"
"That goes without saying," he quipped. He fished with the towel and tossed it aside to get Pete's robe and help him into it. Once it was wrapped around him, Vegas helped him up to close it and then guided him back to the wheelchair. That damn thing was going to get some mileage at this rate!
When Pete was seated, Vegas caressed his face gently. "I'm gonna be good to you, Pete."
Settling into the wheelchair, he looked up at Vegas. Those words were so much than a simple sentence and he knew that. His husband was making a promise to him. One he appreciated as he leaned his hand into the touch, closing his eyes to savor it.
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"What kind of husband would I be if I didn't plan to get you back to bed safely?"
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When Pete was seated, Vegas caressed his face gently. "I'm gonna be good to you, Pete."
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"I know. You'll take good care of me."
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