by Jalabert
he mission had gone well up to that point. Mac and
Vic had found the mafia don's safe and managed to
retrieve the damning evidence they needed. Vic secured
it in his pocket and led the way back down the hall
toward the exit. They had miscalculated their timing
and before they made it to the door, 500 people began
to descend upon the lavish estate to celebrate the
wedding of the don's daughter.
Mac and Vic slipped into the first empty room they came to. It was the ballroom where the wedding feast was about to take place. Vic went to a window to see if he could find a way out while Mac looked for alternative exits. They heard steps and looked around for a place to hide. Mac dove into the space behind the stage that had been set up for the band. Vic quickly followed. It wasn't till he had slid several feet into the narrow space that he realized how much the tight fit impeded his movement.
"Thanks, genius," he whispered hoarsely. "We have no room to maneuver in here."
"Look on the bright side. There's no room for bullets in here, either," Mac said as he looked up at the high wall that served as the back of the stage.
"What are we supposed to do, sit here till after the wedding banquet is over?"
"I hope not; I haven't eaten all day and I'm starving. Look, once the party starts and the room fills up we can slip out, mingle with the crowd and make our way out of here."
Vic sighed exasperatedly. There was nothing for it; they were stuck, literally and figuratively, in their cramped hiding space. They stood side by side, Mac facing the outer wall and Vic facing the back of the temporary stage. There wasn't enough room to turn around. A loud noise sounded suddenly, making both men jump. Each man instinctively moved to his right, away from the end of the stage, the result of which was that they found themselves wedged tightly within the narrow space where the right sides of their bodies overlapped.
Vic's right arm had gone up when he moved, hitting Mac under the chin as it did so. Mac rested his chin on Vic's bicep and winced.
"Thank you, sir; may I have another?" he teased.
"Don't put ideas in my head," Vic snarled as he tried to pull away. As he did so, Mac made faces. "You think this is funny?"
"There is nothing funny about this, Vic," Mac said with another wince. Vic's eyes went wide.
"Oh, come on, Mac! Please don't tell me—."
Mac rolled his eyes.
"Mac Ramsey, you are the horniest son of a bitch I've ever met! Pray tell, what about this situation turns you on?"
"Nothing about this situation turns me on, Vic," Mac said through gritted teeth. "Anything going on down there," he said, emphasizing his words with a glance downward, "is strictly involuntary and completely your fault."
"My fault? How the—." Mac managed to raise his right hand enough to grab Vic's belt buckle. Vic immediately lowered his voice. "How the hell is your having a hard-on my fault?"
"Hey, you're the one wearing rough denim jeans and you're the one creating the friction by moving his leg."
"I—." Vic shook his head. Then he frowned. "I thought you dressed left."
Mac's mouth fell open.
"Excuse me? You thought I dressed left? Pardon me for asking what's probably an obvious question but how the hell would you know?"
Vic shrugged uncomfortably.
"I've seen you get dressed before, Mac," he said as though it was a casual admission.
"You've seen me get dressed," Mac repeated. "You watched me get dressed, you mean. Have you been checking me out, Victor?"
"I have not been checking you out," Victor growled. "I've just...seen you get dressed."
"And you just happened to 'see' me get dressed often enough to establish my preference?"
"Well, no," Vic said uneasily. "But a guy doesn't switch back and forth; it's not normal."
"It's not normal to be checking out which side of his boxers your partner slides his dick into, Vic."
"I'm a trained agent, Mac," Vic said haughtily. "I notice things. You never know when a bit of information will come in handy."
"So let me get this straight," Mac said, shifting uncomfortably in the tight space. "You 'noticed' that I dressed left and you stored this bit of information away in case you ever needed it?"
Vic reluctantly nodded.
"Ah," Mac said, "that's apparently why you thought it was okay to shove your thigh in between mine in a space less than two feet wide. You never expected me to dress right this morning, thereby trapping my family jewels in a vise-like grip."
"Jeez, Mac, will you—?" Vic's words were cut off when Mac reached down and grabbed his crotch.
"Which side do you dress on, Vic?" he asked slyly. "I see you're also a lefty. And aren't you a healthy boy."
"I will shoot you," Vic growled.
"I don't think so, Vic," Mac said confidently with a glance at Vic's hand. It was pointed toward the ceiling.
"I have another gun—," Vic said.
"Which you can't reach."
"—And a long memory."
Mac smiled and gave Vic's genitals a squeeze. Vic hissed.
"What the hell are you doing?" he whispered hoarsely when he could speak.
"I'm trying to get some relief," Mac replied as he gave Vic another squeeze.
"You do realize that you're jerking the wrong guy?" Vic said tightly as his head rolled back and hit the brick wall behind him.
"Yeah, but if I get your rocks off maybe you'll be able to move."
"How the hell do you figure that?"
"I don't know, Vic."
"You don't know?" Vic said in a high-pitched voice as Mac began to stroke him through his pants.
"Maybe I just like the way you sound when I do this," Mac grinned. Vic's eyes went wide and then rolled back as Vic groaned.
"Good one," Mac smiled. He opened Vic's zipper and pulled out his penis. "We don't want you soiling your good jeans now, do we?"
"I am so going to kill you later," Vic panted as Mac accelerated his strokes.
"Confess," Mac demanded.
"Confess?" Vic moaned.
"You have been checking me out."
"I have done no—no, no, don't stop," Vic whimpered. Mac giggled. "All right, Mac, I've been checking you out."
"And?"
"And if you don't finish me I will definitely shoot you when I get out of here," Vic said through a clenched jaw.
"What's in it for me? Other than the thrill of hearing you beg, I mean."
Vic turned his face toward Mac's and looked at him for a moment.
"Suppose I agree not to shoot you when we're out of here," he suggested with a wry smile.
"That's a good start, I suppose," Mac said as his hand returned to Vic's crotch, but only touching him lightly enough to torment.
"You could come over to my place..."
"Yes?"
"I could check you out...ahhhh..."
"And?" Mac asked as his grip became firmer.
"I'm having a little trouble thinking at the moment," Vic managed.
"Pity," Mac said as he loosened his grip and returned to the fluttering touches that threatened to drive Vic insane. "It was just beginning to sound promising."
"Mac, Mac, Mac, no!" Vic said urgently. "Anything you want. I'll do anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Anything; just get me off, please."
Mac smiled sweetly. Vic returned the smile and Mac leaned over and managed to give him a brief kiss. It was too awkward a position to sustain, however, so they merely locked eyes on each other until Mac brought Vic to completion. Vic closed his eyes and recovered while Mac tucked him neatly away. A few minutes later, Vic opened his eyes and glanced down, not that he could see past his chest.
"Way to keep my pants clean, genius," he said.
"Oops."
"Oops?"
"Well, it's not like I can see down there, Vic."
Vic sighed in exasperation.
"I don't know why I bother," he muttered.
"You're about to find out," Mac said lewdly. "You owe me, remember?"
Vic laughed.
"Yeah, right. Like you really expect me to—. Mac, no! No!"
Vic's shouts brought four security guards to the room. Fortunately, they couldn't immediately determine the source of the cries, giving the two agents time to extricate themselves from their entangled position and move to opposite ends of the stage. They came out firing and made a clean escape, running past the bride and groom as they entered the ballroom.
When Vic's truck was a mile or two away from the scene he slowed down and turned to Mac, who had been laughing hysterically from the moment he entered the vehicle.
"What the hell is so funny?" Vic demanded.
"Man, I'd give anything to see the security cameras in that place," Mac said.
"It was a spectacular getaway if I may say so myself," Vic said proudly. Mac continued to laugh. "What?"
"You should have seen the look on the bride's face when you ran by."
"Hey, you can't blame her for being a little surprised to find herself in the middle of a shootout at her own wedding reception."
"Oh, she was surprised, all right," Mac said. "As the daughter of a mafia don I'm willing to bet she's been exposed to violence before, but you're probably the only guy who's ever flashed her."
Vic looked down and groaned. He pulled the truck over to the side of the road and zipped himself up.
"I can't believe you left me hanging!" he spat as he put the truck into drive once more.
"Hey, you threatened to leave me hanging," Mac retorted. "Turnabout is fair play."
Vic's expression softened and he gave Mac a sly glance.
"I was only kidding about that."
"The hell you were," Mac said, straightening in his seat. "You can drop me off at my place."
"I'd rather not," Vic said seriously.
"Really?"
"Really, Mac," Vic said as his right hand moved to make contact with Mac's crotch. He patted it lightly and returned it to the steering wheel. "I want to see what other tight spots we can get ourselves into tonight."
