When Ventus was accused of being shallow, he never denied it; because he was. He always judged a man first by his appearance; if he didn't have a nice, curved figure with a smooth chest, a neat five hundred dollar haircut and a wonderfully smooth jaw that wouldn't give him beard burn later that evening, then Ventus sent them back to the trash, on all fours with their tales tucked between their legs. He liked flashy cars, expensive meals, extravagant dates and large cream-coloured apartments where he could sit in the spa-bath for hours after his man had left for work. And it's not like he didn't have money of his own, he had plenty of it; it was just so much more appealing spending someone else's cash rather than his own.

But above all, Ventus was attracted to power. Those guys with the seven digits salaries, that worked 70 stories off the ground and had their own office where the couches were lined with leather and the rugs had come all the way from Japan simply because the guy could. He liked the guys with their own secretaires and assistants who were called in to fetch Ventus anything he wanted, giving him glares on the way out and making the experience just that much more enjoyable. He loved having a boyfriend that made his friends hate him while at the same time, wishing they were him.

And that's why Vanitas Specter was his Mount Everest, his Eifel Tower, his Statue of Liberty, his Mona Lisa; but why be those things when Ventus knew Vanitas had enough money, contacts, charm and power to simply buy all those things for himself.

Ventus mulled over what it would be like to actually own the Statue of Liberty (I mean who really needs a big-ass green tower of some ugly lady anyway). He stretched contently on Vanitas' leather couch (the one that was mentioned earlier), his torso covered by the Egyptian cotton sheets Vanitas had flown in especially for him, his upper body adorned with Vanitas' work shirt, blue with light silver stripes (vertical, of course), still crisp despite the urgency it had been ripped off its original owner only moments before.

"Vanitas," he turned to his shirtless boyfriend, who was walking around with a cup of coffee in his hand and a newspaper in the other; his usual lunch break when Ventus didn't decide to take advantage of the lock on the office door and the blinds that went in and out with the touch of a button. "If you owned the Statue of Liberty, what would you do with it?'

"Rename it." Vanitas had gotten used to Ventus' randomly voiced thoughts soon after their first date. Ventus became curious, rolling over so his head was resting on his arm.

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I could. Besides, I can't restructure it or I'll get in trouble. I can't close it off as its one of the highest grossing tourist attractions this city has and selling it again would just be a waste of my time unless I was getting double what I paid."

Ventus just chuckled. He had gotten used to Vanitas' reasoning process before their first date; besides, that reasoning process was the reason Vanitas had become so successful, had taken over his firm at such a young age and why Ventus was sprawled naked across his office couch at one in the afternoon. That reasoning process was one of the major things Ventus adored about his boyfriend.

"And why on God's green earth," Vanitas started, putting down his coffee and newspaper, walking over to Ventus, ripping away the sheet and crawling on top of his favourite blonde for the second time that day; right between Ventus' legs, right where Vanitas belonged. "Would I waste my money on that tower of weird when I'd much rather spend my money, on say, a Tiffany's bracelet for my darling angel?" Ventus eyed him greedily at the mention of an expensive present. His eyes gleamed with excitement, darkened with lust and his body became alive with the electric feeling of power in the air.

"Hmm, you're right," he looped his arms around Vanitas' neck, pulling him down so his hips were nestled comfortably on Ventus' own, their chests pressed tightly together and their lips barely touching. "I don't know why you would do that. Maybe you should forget about the statue, and just buy me my bracelet."


Ventus shifted a little, his bare member brushing against Vanitas' slacks, whimpering when Vanitas closed his mouth over the blonde's, biting his lip and smooshing him into the couch. And then Ventus found himself suddenly very occupied with the oh-so pleasurable task of pleasuring his boyfriend, rolling them over in the small space so he grip Vanitas' cock and aim it at his already-to-go hole, whining with need as he pushed himself down.

Ventus was known for being loud during sex, but Vanitas had learnt very quickly never to shush him, even in public places. Because when both of them were really getting into it, their backs and hips aching slightly, scratch marks, red and alive, all down Vanitas' chest and back, Ventus would let out the most wonderful dirty talk; and nobody could make Vanitas feel like a sex god like Ventus could.

"Oh dear…Vanitas, not there…don't touch tha-ahh…Vanitas you're so good at that…it feels so good…you're too good at this…ahh…ahhhhh…I'm gonna c-ahhh! Vanitas! There! Oh God! You're so strong! Vanitas, I want more of you!"

And after a few minutes of hearing that he was the best and Ventus' cries of passion fuelling his ego and coating his ears with the most beautiful sounds, it was hard not to cum very hard inside that wonderful ass, squeezing around him just right.

"Mmmmmm…Vanitas…you're too good at what you do…" Ventus moaned a little more, even afterwards when he was back to sprawling on the couch and Vanitas was back to working.

"Well it's easy to be that good when I have a fantastic ass to fuck," Vanitas reasoned further. "I can only do so much with what I have, after all."

Ventus smiled loftily, his eyes swimming with happiness and joy.

"Who says I was talking about the sex?"

Ventus left to go back home a little while after that but Vanitas had to work late into the night and wasn't going to be home until well after midnight, though he tried to reassure Ventus that this had nothing to do with their procrastinating activities. But Ventus was happy to let Vanitas work peacefully; in trade for a new Tiffany's bracelet and a trip to Paris over the weekend.

I'm seriously thinking of turning this into a series. Let me know if you think so too.