Of course, there were a lot of things Ventus loved about his life with Vanitas. The big, white apartment was one. With the fluffy rug Ventus had picked out to sit in front of the fireplace, the one Vanitas had conned him into doing dirty things on multiple times. The big, white apartment with the amazing view overlooking the city that was really close to Vanitas' firm allowing him to be home longer.

Ventus, of course, loved the money. How Vanitas constantly brought home expensive presents; fancy jewellery or beautiful dresses, or when Vanitas was feeling particularly brave, Victoria's secret lingerie. The feeling of being able to afford anything and knowing that when he walked down the street, he could easily say he was the richest one around.

Vanitas himself was the one of the biggest reasons, of course. How he worked out every morning before leaving for work (sometimes letting Ventus sit on his back while doing one armed push-ups), how, despite his busy lifestyle, still found the time to cook Ventus home-cooked meals every once and a while.

Ventus loved being with Vanitas because of the way Vanitas kissed him; right on the lips, every time. It always started out deep, sensual, and then depending on the mood would either slow to a calm, rhythm that would result in a small make-out and cuddling session on the couch or would escalate to something hot and sexy, resulting in Ventus having a sore back in the morning and a couple of dark bruises on his neck, hips and inner thighs the next morning.

When asked by his peers what the best thing about being with Vanitas was, Ventus always replied with an off-hand:

"Everything. I can't choose just one thing, my life is just too perfect."

But if he really had to choose, Ventus would definitely say it would be the way Vanitas held him. When they both felt like a quiet night together, they would lie on the couch, Ventus between Vanitas' legs, his head resting on a strong chest, with Vanitas's arms around Ventus' waist, looking over the blonde's shoulder while reading his book, that's when Ventus knew his life was perfect.

It was the way Vanitas' arm muscles flexed and adjusted when Ventus shifted ever-so-slightly, or the way Vanitas breathed softly on his skin, not meaning to send a constant line of shivers up Ventus' spine, but doing so none-the-less. It was just, Vanitas.

Ventus couldn't think of any other way to put it. He had tried multiple times, but couldn't come up with anything other than the image of his boyfriend (sometimes he was shirtless, sometimes he was not) smiling at him while working on his files, or cooking dinner, or even just from his mound of pillows as they lay there in bed together on a Sunday morning.

No words came to mind when he thought of the pale skin of his boyfriend, or the dark, soft hair Ventus was a big fan of, or the muscles that he loved to trace with his pinkie while Vanitas slept in. No words came to mind when he imagined Vanitas holding him around the waist, Ventus himself sitting comfortably on the raven's lap. They might have just been chatting or planning, reading or watching a movie, but if Vanitas was holding him, Ventus just didn't care about anything else.

"What do you want to do this weekend?" Vanitas cut through Ventus' thoughts, gliding his thumb along the blonde's hip bone, tightening his legs around the smaller figure and capturing him in his arms while they watched Bruce Willis and Samuel Jackson speed down the New York City streets.

"I didn't know we were doing anything this weekend," Ventus waited for the pair on the (very large because that's the only way to watch a movie according to Vanitas) television to reach their destination just in the nick of time before answering.

"Well we don't have to, but we haven't done anything in a while, so I figured we should."

Ventus paused, contemplating his options for a moment, before realising a slight flaw in Vanitas' statement.

"Isn't it your sister's birthday this weekend?"


"So doesn't that mean she's having a birthday party, knowing your family and their love for grand affairs and the fact that she is turning sixteen?"


"Don't pretend you're not catching on, Vanitas. I know that you know what we have to do this weekend." Ventus didn't understand how Vanitas could manipulate people for a living and still not know how to legitimately manipulate his way out of a simple family gathering, which he knew Ventus would make him go to. Vanitas groaned.

"Why do we have to go to that thing? Can't I just have a pony delivered to the house and send my best wishes? It's gonna be so boring! A bunch of sixteen year olds running around and giggling at every, little thing I say because apparently, I'm that hilarious."

Ventus chuckled at Vanitas' resentment to the idea of a sweet sixteen birthday party. Ventus didn't see why; sixteen had been a fun year for him.

"But sixteen year olds aren't that bad; don't you remember when I was sixteen?" Ventus smiled at the memories. He waited while Vanitas thought about it for a while, chewing his cheek and furrowing his brows before his golden eyes lit up with realisation.

"That's right. Your sweet sixteen birthday party, the day we first met," Vanitas was smiling contentedly now, remembering the bright, green sun dress that had adorned the pale skin of his blonde angel on that particular day, how it had framed the shape of his thighs when the wind had picked up or how it had highlighted the curve of his hips when the sun hit him just right.

"As I may recall, it was also the day of our first date, our first kiss and our first, well, everything," Ventus emphasized. It had been a dangerous move, he knew, falling for someone as famous and successful as Vanitas was, and at such a young age; not-to-mention Vanitas was older than him. None of that had to stop Ventus from completely succumbing to everything Vanitas had asked of him. But Vanitas had continued to love him the next day and every other day after, so as risky as the choice was, Ventus never found any reason to regret his bold decision of that day.

"No, no," Vanitas was now arguing. "As I recall, you didn't suck me off for the first time until the next morning. We didn't do everything." Ventus elbowed him for the lewd comment. Vanitas merely flinched before burying his nose into the soft skin found in the crook of Ventus' neck, inhaling deeply before speaking again, his lips tickling the skin.

"You were so beautiful. That gorgeous dress showing off your legs while you danced around your back yard, your beautiful eyes standing out against the jewels on your ears, your hair framing your face so delicately in the summer breeze; I had to have you." Now his hands were wrapped tightly around his blonde's waist, travelling dangerously low.

"I remember you, too. You looked so stunning in that suit, the red tie matched you so well, and your hair was all messy and wind-swept. I can remember it very clearly, do you want to know why?" Blonde strands were now spread out over Vanitas' shoulder as Ventus had his head resting there, eyeing Vanitas' hand greedily and hoping it would hurry up enough to fulfil his sanity but not so fast that he didn't get to finish his story.

"Why's that?"

"Because that was the first time I looked at a man and felt any sort of attraction. I remember that at that age, I suddenly had a lot of suitors lining up for my hand. All the boys at school wanted me, but I always turned them down because I felt none of them were good enough for me." Now Ventus was getting impatient, grabbing Vanitas hand tightly and moving it faster towards its intended destination, but halting it just before reaching there.

"And then there was you: already set for success at such a young age, yet still older than me by far. Yet you were such a gentleman, pleasing my father by coming to his son's sixteenth birthday party even though you hated kids and didn't even know me, you even brought a present, white wrapping with a pink bow."

"Forgive me, I thought you liked pink." Vanitas was trying to move his hand, yet sadly his boyfriend was surprisingly strong, and kept his hand firmly in place.

"I was sixteen, Vanitas, not six."

"…you still liked the bunny."

"Yes," Ventus giggled lightly, turning his head so his nose was nestled in the bottom of Vanitas' hair, where the strands were the softest. "I loved the bunny, I still have it."

"Your dad wasn't happy with me, though," Vanitas's eyes flew open briefly in success to moving his hand just a little lower, having finally reached the belt line but having to stop again because of his boyfriend's strength.

"Father was just surprised at my sudden interest in other men. You were his associate after all. He was a little defensiveness."

"A little? He pushed me into your champagne fountain for kissing you on the cheek!" Ventus couldn't help himself. He had to turn his entire body into Vanitas this time, remembering his father's rage at his associate, at Vanitas' face as he fell backwards into a pool of bubbly drink and laughing so hard at the memory, Vanitas had to remove his hand completely because Ventus was shaking too badly.

"At least it was non-alcoholic! But, if you remember, it was because he pushed you into the fountain that you had to take your clothes off in the first place, which made it rather easy for me once I walked in on you later. That's where it all started." Ventus had calmed down and was smiling at a different memory now. A fruity smelling one, with warm lips trailing down his skin and hands moving all over his body, a memory filled with passion and lust, and just a little bit of fear from trusting someone so completely for the first time.

"Yeah, where it all started, right on your parents bathroom sink." That earned Vanitas a good elbow in the ribs.

"Oof! How can you be mad? It's the truth!" Ventus didn't even let him finish, getting up and walking away, through their bedroom into their own bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Vanitas called out disappointedly; he definitely wasn't used to getting cock-blocked by his own boyfriend.

"To get ready for bed," Ventus called out. But he leant his head out through the bathroom door, calling out across the bedroom to a sulking raven-head on the couch.

"If you'd like, we can re-enact our first time after I'm done."

Vanitas has jumped off the couch and was in the bathroom in seconds, hands running over a newly naked blonde, cutting Ventus' voice off with a deep kiss and lifting him up to place him on the counter, shuffling bottles of moisturiser and shaving cream out of the way so Vanitas could nestle in between the pale thighs of his boyfriend, already starting to get hard from the thought of being inside his wonderful angel again, the clear images and feelings of what it was like that first time fresh in his mind, exactly like it would be this time.

And Ventus yielded to Vanitas completely once again, clutching at his strong shoulders, his head falling back and his mouth falling open, his cries echoing off the tiled walls. Of course, there had never been a time since that first time, that Ventus hadn't yielded to Vanitas in anyway and only because it was Vanitas.