Title: Veritas 2: Post Mortem

Authors: Jennie, Jami Wilsen and Jamie Joyce

Fandom: Once a Thief

Pairing: Mac/Vic

Rating: NC-17

Status: Completed - second in series (and last, sorry to say)

Spoilers: Assume all of OaT - just to be on the safe side

Archive: Yes

Disclaimers: None of these boys are ours - no money made here - no copyright infringement intended.

Notes: Huge thank you to Sue and Laura for the beta.

Summary: The next day...

Veritas 2: Post Mortem

by Jennie, Jami Wilsen and Jamie Joyce

If he could only remember where he'd left his gun last night, Mac would have gotten out of bed, taken said gun and shot the sonofabitch that was sawing logs in his bedroom.

Unfortunately, not only could he not remember where the hell his weapon was, he couldn't recall anything at all about last night. Nothing. Nada.

And, the way his head was pounding warned him that sudden movement would probably be the death of him. Which, he decided as the unknown lumberjack switched to using a chainsaw, might be a damn fine idea.

He'd just about made up his mind that he'd HAVE to get up and kill the guy, no matter how much said activity increased the throbbing in his head, when a warm body rolled up next to him - and snored right in his ear. The start of surprise this caused was nothing compared to the shocked jolt he felt when an arm draped itself over his midsection and a chin rubbed against his right shoulder. A scratchy chin. A beard-stubbled chin.

What the fuck!? Just what the hell had he brought home with him last night? Lifting his head to peer blearily through scratchy eyes that watered and burned with the need for more sleep, Mac blinked. Then blinked again. Then he rubbed his eyes. Nope, hadn't helped the view. It was still Vic. Vic, in bed, with him. Sleeping beside him.... What the hell?

"Vic, will you please STOP?" Mac groaned in a pathetic whimper. "Knock it off. You're killing my head."

Victor, with an irritating lack of consideration, ignored him totally and kept on snoring.

Annoyed now beyond all ability to remain civil, Mac jerked up a knee and roughly pushed the clinging man away. Mac's knee connected rather hard with some part of Vic but he wasn't too concerned about what part as long as it got the other man's buzzsaw of a snore out of his ear. Victor, however, seemed to take exception.

Shooting up in the bed with a suppressed gasp and flailing limbs, Vic was momentarily entangled in the covers, nearly pulling them off Mac. "What?" he croaked, his usually deep voice raspy and hoarse. Blinking dazed green eyes, he focused on Mac's scowling features and groaned, "Jesus. What the hell's your problem?" The next instant, not waiting for a reply, he folded in on himself, clutching his head in both hands. "Jesus," he moaned again. Clearly Mac wasn't the only one whose head was throbbing for attention this morning.

Mac groused, "My problem is you! Keep it down, can't you?" The pain in his own head was blinding, making coherent speech problematic and not helping his temper one bit.

Taking one shaky hand from its deathgrip on his abused head, Vic reached under the cover to rub, Mac suspected, whatever portion of his anatomy he'd kneed. Mac felt a brief flare of guilt as he watched the older man grimace. With that fair skin, he'd have a bruise for sure. Keeping his voice low in apparent deference to the headache he seemed to have, Victor asked, "Ramsey, what the hell are you doing in my bed?"

Widening his focus beyond the main source of his current irritation, Mac realized that Vic was right. This was Vic's apartment. Vic's bedroom. Hell, Vic's bed.... What WAS he doing in Vic's bed? Mac's eyes widened and his headache escalated as snatches of memory from the previous night began to filter back through the alcoholic haze that still hung in his mind like thick fog.

They were followed quickly with a sense of wounded pride. Oh shit.

***********

Bad. Whatever Mac was thinking about was bad. Very, very bad, Vic decided, with a growing sense of dread. No possible way was he up to talking about - well, anything, really. Not with this hangover. Not with the way his head was pounding and his stomach was roiling. Especially when one quick glance into Mac's eyes revealed doubt and regret... and something else - something he wasn't even gonna TRY to identify. Whatever it was, it would just have to wait.

As soon as he came back from the dead (surely he couldn't be ALIVE and feel this awful) he'd talk with Mac. He'd willingly discuss whatever thorny problem was clearly preying on the younger man. Right now, though-

With a groan, Vic closed his eyes, returning his head into the cradle of both hands. As much as he'd like to continue denying it, it was becoming more and more apparent that he WAS alive, that it WAS possible to feel this horrible and not be dead - or, at least, near death. Gathering his strength and taking deep, even breaths through his nose until his shaky system settled a bit, Vic unwillingly accepted that crawling back under the warm covers was not an option. Based on the intensity of the stare he could feel Mac directing at his bowed head, his partner was not going to wait on whatever it was he wanted to talk about until Victor was feeling more human. That being the case, he needed aspirin, coffee and a shower, not necessarily in that order. Rolling out of bed, Vic stumbled into the bathroom in search of aspirin and a big glass of water. The coffee should be just about ready when he got out....

************

Naked. Vic was NAKED. VIC was naked. And Mac knew that as soon as the older man woke up enough for the realization of THAT to penetrate his hangover, Mac was a dead man. He carefully lifted the edge of the sheet and peeked underneath, immediately confirming and compounding his feeling of impending doom. Vic wasn't the only one sleeping au natural.

Okay, so, not a dream. Not an alcohol-induced hallucination. The vague recollections that were becoming clearer as adrenaline burned through his system had really happened.

The implications of this were far-reaching and terrifying. He didn't want to think about it. All he wanted to do, in fact, was turn over and go back to sleep. Sleep was a tried and true method of avoidance and well worth dragging out of early retirement. Suiting action to thought, Mac burrowed under the covers and the pillows, enjoying the sensation of the soft cotton against his skin. Mm-mm...the bed smelled kinda nice actually...

His eyes shot open again at this realization. It smelled nice because it was Victor's, in fact, the bedding sort of smelled like Victor. And the image of his partner getting out of this exact bed, naked, was branded onto his retinas and burned into his brain. He could hear the sounds of Vic opening and shutting the bathroom cabinet and then the sounds of Vic relieving himself in the toilet. The sound was oddly intimate and fueled the scarlet heat that covered Mac's face in a flush of heat. It was also enough to galvanize him out of the warm covers and off the bed. With a pounding head he gingerly collected up his clothes and began hurriedly fumbling to put them on.

He didn't want to be undressed when Vic emerged.

In fact, he didn't want to be HERE when Vic emerged. To that end, Mac finished dressing and scurried from the bedroom and into the living room. Snatching up his jacket, Mac began patting down the pockets for his keys as he moved through the apartment door.

Coming up empty, he absently repeated the search...then remembered that his car was not here.

Fuck!

The door swung open behind him, and Mac just KNEW it was Vic. He could smell him - could FEEL him.

"Mac...?"

Shoulders slumped in defeat, Mac shrugged. "I KNOW, Vic," he said grumpily. "Car's not here - and... SHIT! Go ahead and say it - I'm a wimp. I just... I didn't know how to face you this morning." Slowly, he turned to face his partner. "I... uh, got any aspirin?" he asked hopefully, careful not to actually meet Vic's eyes. "Coffee? Morphine?"

*****************

Victor had come into the living room expecting to find Mac sprawled on the couch or pacing in front of the windows. He'd planned to ask the younger man to put the coffee on while he took his shower. Surprise didn't begin to cover what he'd felt when he saw his partner, fully but hurriedly dressed, scurrying out his apartment door with the guilty stealth of a rat abandoning a sinking ship.

Standing framed in the open doorway, Vic regarded the younger man steadily. Mac looked ravaged, both inside and out. No doubt his ass was hurting too, a reminder of last night. A little frown creased between his eyes as he said, "Sure, Mac. If you come back inside you can have all those things. And guess what? As a special bonus, considering our hangovers, I won't even make you talk about anything."

Mac gave him an embarrassed smile. "Gee, thanks, Vic." The tone was a stab at his usual sarcasm but both men noticed it fell far short.

Vic snorted and turned to hold the door open for him.

Mac went back inside. Vic shut the door behind them and said, "Take off your coat and stay awhile. There's coffee in the kitchen. It's on a timer so it should be about ready. But I think you're going to have to make do without the morphine."

Vic preceded the younger man into the kitchen as he talked and reached into a cabinet to take out a clean glass. Picking up a nearly depleted bottle from the counter, he filled the glass with a small amount of whisky.

Mac watched him with consternation. "What are you *doing*?"

"Hair of the dog," Vic muttered, downing the glass in one smooth movement. He licked his lips and glanced at Mac. "Doesn't really help the hangover - you just don't care as much."

Mac frowned at him. "But you just had aspirin..."

Vic shook his head. "Somehow, all things considered, I think this is more medicinal. Think about it. We have to go to work. Both of us. And face whatever bullshit busy work they come up with. Ever heard of fortification?"

"Awww, FUCK! Work? Do we have to... couldn't you say I died suddenly?"

Vic smirked as he reached for another coffee mug. "No, Mac - LiAnn, remember? We have to go see her."

"In that case, make it a double - hell, make it a triple!" Mac groaned.

"Ri-iight, Mac. The Director would just love that, now wouldn't she?"

"Vii-iic," Mac whined pitifully. "Did you have to bring up her name? Remind me of - " his eyes opened wide in sudden recollection. "Jesus," he said hopelessly. "She called last night. She fucking CALLED us, Vic!" He collapsed into a chair and buried his face in both hands. "We're fucked, partner. We are SO fucked!"

Vic raised his brows at Mac's dramatic histrionics. "Yeah. Totally. You got that right. We fucked each other too. But I guess we don't need to go there." He poured out two coffees and brought one steaming mug over to where Mac sat, slouched in despair.

Mac wasn't meeting his eyes, but Vic realized that neither of them was up to handling that part yet. Sipping cautiously, he sat down on the couch. "She won't let this go, you know. We need to form some kind of strategy, together." He winced as he realized that they were sitting in the wrong room for this discussion. She had it bugged. Then he sighed and sat back, making himself comfortable. Taking another gulp of hot coffee, he said, mildly, "You might as well have a shower here. Help yourself."

Mac looked nervous again though, at this suggestion. "I really need to get home, get a change of clothes," he mumbled toward the carpet.

Vic tried to hide the hurt that went through him at this. He was trying, he really was. He didn't want Mac to run, nor did he want to embarrass Mac by rubbing his face in what had happened between them before he was ready to discuss it. But Mac was acting like Vic was going to use it against him. Quietly, he replied, "You could give me a little credit, here. I'm hardly going to corner you in the shower and take advantage of you. Or are you upset that I wouldn't?"

*****************

Mac winced at the softly spoken accusation. He knew he was hurting Vic's feelings, knew that he wasn't handling this well. Hell, that had been one of the major reasons he'd been so keen to sneak away without Vic knowing. "Oh hell, Vic. I just... dammit, this is... I'm trying, here. But, this is so fucking weird - I just don't know what to say - how to act. I mean - where do we go from here - DO we go anywhere? And, if so, how?" At a loss, he looked to Vic for answers. "You seemed to know a whole lot more about... "

Cutting himself off as the probability of listening devices occurred, Mac grimaced at Vic. "Look, let's go out - for breakfast. There's a dining room at the hospital!" he said with sudden inspiration. "Let's go there - kill two birds, y'know. And - we can pick up my car on the way to the Agency." It wasn't much of a solution but it was better than providing more free entertainment to the voyeur they called "boss."

***************

So - the hospital cafeteria. After they'd gone through the line, each choosing a light and bland breakfast, the two chose a table over by the windows. And stared fixedly at their food as if looking for inspiration.

Mac cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So, Vic, I don't suppose you'd like to discuss this - your experience - where you got it. And how... Have you always been bi?"

Vic grimaced, toying with a fork. "Labels are fun, aren't they?" He really didn't want to delve deeply into his past, regardless of how it might be the only thing that would allay Mac's doubts and insecurities. He was having enough trouble with this new turn in their relationship himself. He really had no desire to start opening the can of worms that was his past.

Vic looked up at Mac, noting how his partner still kept averting his face and refusing to meet his gaze. "Mac?" He waited until Mac looked back at him.

"Yeah?"

"I... look, Mac, my past - or the details of my past, are not exactly what I wanted to get into this morning. I don't think either of us are up to it." At Mac's crestfallen expression, Vic sighed.

"Yeah, I'm bi - and I've known since I was a teenager. Good enough for now?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mac mumbled, suddenly finding his fork to be of extreme interest. "Sorry, Vic, didn't mean to push. I'm just at such a loss. Everything I'd assumed about my preferences got turned on end last night and I - " With a sigh, Mac broke off his rambles. "Never mind. I'll work it out."

Vic leaned forward. "Mac, look at me."

When Mac finally glanced up to meet his eyes, Vic offered a smile. "I didn't mean we could NEVER discuss it - me, I mean. Just not now, okay? But, Mac... you're the same man today that you were last night. You haven't suddenly started seeing me as different somehow, have you?"

Mac thoughtfully regarded Vic. "No, no I haven't. I just-" He stopped with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know what to expect."

Vic bit out a short laugh. "Yeah, I hear you. Me neither. We should play it by ear, I think."

Mac answered, "And it's none of her business."

Vic shuddered. "Agreed."

Mac hesitated. "And LiAnn..."

Vic frowned. "Until we get this sorted out between us, I don't see any reason why she needs to know, either."

"Unless the Director tells her, which she undoubtedly will," Mac pointed out.

A dark look crossed Vic's face. "It isn't really any of her business."

A voice beside them, hateful in it's familiarity, interrupted them. "Actually, it is. Everything you do is my business." The Director stood there, tapping one long red nail against her arm, where she looked down at them, her arms folded.

"Actually, we were talking about LiAnn," Vic informed her in an even tone. "But, now that you mention it - as long as we keep our... um, relationship outside of the workplace, what's the problem?"

"Boys, boys," she shook her head in apparent despair. "When will you ever learn? Your lives belong to me. "

Too tired to argue the matter - yet again - Vic sighed and looked at Mac. "Anything else, boss?"

"Yes."

Fuck! Mac moved his plate and leaned forward, resting his head on the tabletop. "What?" He asked with weary resignation.

"LiAnn," she said, as if unable to believe they could possibly be so dense.

"What about her?" Vic finally asked when no further comment was forthcoming.

"Well, while you two lovebirds are happily chirping away down here, lining your new nest, LiAnn is upstairs, wondering why no one except for Dobrinsky and myself have been to see how she is faring."

Vic stared at the Director with some amazement.

Mac spluttered, "What?! We - we stayed for hours yesterday, waiting to make sure she would be okay! They had to throw us out! We-"

Vic stopped him, cutting in with a glare at the Director. "We were just on our way up to see her. How is she? Has her condition changed?"

She smirked in that annoying way of hers. "I suggest you two go on up to her room and see for yourselves. IF you can tear yourself away from this nauseatingly romantic scene."

In chorus, both men spat, "Fine". Throwing their napkins to the table, they turned to leave.

"Oh, and boys..."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This bitch was never happy until she had the last word. "Yes?" Vic asked tersely, deliberately not turning to face her.

"WHEN - not if - I tell LiAnn about your new... romance - I will do so with good reason. "

Uh huh, riiight, thought Mac. Knew better than to actually say it aloud, though. No need to go looking for even more trouble right now. Besides - no matter what reason she might have - whatever argument they might put forth was simply wasted effort.

She paused with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "Although, she may work it out all on her own. You two do make a rather...fetching couple." The Director smiled coolly and brushed past them, her heels making a staccato statement in her wake.

Vic sighed. Mac frowned. They turned to exchange a glance. The level of camaraderie and unspoken understanding in it was more than enough to comfort Vic that they would be able to at least carry on for a while longer, without the impediment of Mac's reaction to their tryst the night before.

****************

When they reached the door to LiAnn's hospital room, they crept quietly and cautiously inside. LiAnn lay there, looking pale and wan. She looked over at them and smiled weakly. "Hey. I've been wondering where you were."

They both started talking at once, realized how guilty that sounded, then stopped. Vic waited for Mac, who turned to her and said, "We stayed all day yesterday, just to make sure you were going to be okay. We came over as soon as we got up."

LiAnn frowned at him, looking at them both like they were crazy. "What are you - why are you all worked up? I wasn't being critical. I didn't expect to find you camped out in my room, for crying out loud."

Mac considered her - and thought about his response. "Well," he offered carefully, "we just wanted you to know that we were worried, that we wouldn't desert you."

"Actually," Vic ventured, more than a little stung by her dismissive attitude, "I think we're more upset about your "little accident" than you are."

"Jeez, guys," she sighed and rolled her eyes, "it was a car accident. I don't know that it merited all this angst. You act like you already held the wake."

Mac tried, he really did, but he wasn't able to suppress the blush he felt rising in his face. And LiAnn didn't miss it, oh no, not that eagle-eyed little miss. With years of long practice, she read her "brother" like an open book, suspicion narrowing her eyes. "Just what did you two get up to last night after you were sure I was "going to be okay"?" If anything, Mac's blush intensified.

"On second thought, I'm not sure I even want to know what happened after you left." Her eyes traveled to Vic and it was clear his uncomfortable expression was duly noted.

Studiously avoiding her sharp gaze, Vic shuffled his feet and mumbled to the floor, "We went out to a bar... and got drunk - that's what happened."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Together?"

"Yes, together," Mac huffed. "You got a problem with that?"

Vic put one hand on Mac's lower back in an unobtrusive show of support. "Easy, Mac. Can't exactly blame LiAnn here - we're not known to spend our off-duty hours together."

Mac huffed and turned towards the window. Winced as the sharp sunlight sent agonizing shards into his brain and reached for his sunglasses. "Sorry, LiAnn. I'm just - I have the most god-awful hangover." Mac grasped gratefully for the excuse, "You know that makes me cranky."

Vic sent him a warning glare. Too much information, damn it. "We waited here for hours yesterday - then hit a local bar for a drink or two. That's all, no big deal."

"Mmmm," LiAnn murmured as her eyelids drooped sleepily. She was loath to give up this fascinating line of inquiry, especially when her sluggish mind kept insisting there was something a little "off" about their story, but the pain medication was kicking in again. "Need a nap, guys. Sorry."

"No problem, we understand," Vic assured her, more than grateful for the reprieve. "We'll come back a little later, okay? Gotta get to work now anyway."

A sigh was the only answer.

********************

In Vic's truck on the way back to the bar to pick up Mac's car, Vic muttered, "Way to go, hero. You really aroused her suspicions back there. Ever heard of playing things low-key?"

Mac couldn't dredge up the energy for his customary snappy comeback, merely continued to stare straight ahead from behind his dark glasses. "Could you speak more quietly, please? My head still hurts."

Vic shot him a look of disbelief, more than a little dismayed that this was the way his partner was choosing to handle things. "Have it your own way, you always do. You're the master of denial, after all. Anything that's uncomfortable or inconvenient gets ignored. You've made quite a name for yourself, you know, always sidestepping the issues."

Mac didn't turn his head. But he smiled a little. "Yeah, and you'd know about that, wouldn't you, Victor? You're so well known for jumping in and confronting those thorny issues. No avoidance in your personal history, is there, Mr. Straight and Narrow."

Vic scowled at the road in front of them. There was plenty he wanted to say, but, considering how he felt like something you'd scrape off the bottom of your shoe and his temper was frayed almost to the breaking point, now didn't really seem like a good time. Without a doubt he'd say something he'd later regret. Luckily they had reached the bar. Fortunately, Mac's abandoned car looked untouched.

"Can you manage to get to work?" Vic asked grudgingly. The question didn't have the compassionate ring to it that it'd had the last time he'd asked it.

Mac turned an implacable face to him, his expression unreadable behind the dark glasses. It was as though he was already practicing his cool, reserved and thoughtful countenance, the

"everything's fine" face he was going to show to others.

Huh, wonder how long he'll be able to keep that up.

Mac said, "I've been taking care of myself along time. I think I'll manage. You'll find out when I get to the office."

*******************

The rest of the day passed in an uncomfortable silence. Vic sulking. Mac sulking. Neither talking any more than was absolutely necessary. To each other, or to anyone else.

And both suffering from massive hangovers.

Which, to their mutual chagrin, every goddamned person in the Agency seemed to find vastly amusing.

Finally, the afternoon arrived and they escaped. And none too soon. Fragile tempers were worn gossamer thin and one more remark from Dobrinsky just might have led to physical violence from one or even both of them.

As he arrived at his truck, keys in hand to unlock the door, Vic looked over at Mac.

Coincidentally, his car was parked in the next space over. "So?"

"So what?"

Now that they were no longer under the watchful eyes of the other Agency employees, the tension that had been underlying the entire day began to show through the cracks in their reserve. Vic was the first to give in to the strain. He was too tired to deal with Mac's insecurity and avoidance right now. Also, he was wondering, with the usual clarity of hindsight, if it had been a good idea in the first place to play the 'experienced bi' to Mac's 'virgin oh-please-take-me' routine.

"Jesus, Mac! What do you mean, *what*? Don't you think we should at least talk about this?"

Mac stared at him. "What the hell has gotten into you? All I did was say *what*. WHAT is wrong with that?"

Fuming slightly, both at Mac for playing dumb and at himself for losing his cool, Vic growled, "You've been avoiding it all day. Ever since this morning. I've given you the space because I figured it was only fair, seeing as you were-"

"Were what? I was what, Vic? Go on, I want to hear this one," Mac said, a little incredulously, his own anger breaking through the calm facade.

Vic didn't answer for a long moment. He was breathing harder and finally he gave a frustrated sigh. Swallowing, he fully turned to face Mac and looked him in the eye. "I was going to say "hung over and not feeling well", but since you're dead set on being confrontational, let's say what's on both our minds. You were inexperienced, Mac, okay. You were the novice, the virgin -- with men, anyway. And I - "

"And you WHAT?"

Vic slammed one hand on the hood of his truck. "I fucking took advantage, okay? Happy now, Mac?" He was practically shouting. "I should never have let it happen. I'm an idiot and I should have left you the fuck alone!" Opening his truck with unwonted force, Vic climbed in. "A damned delusional idiot," he growled quietly to himself as he jammed the key into the ignition.

With a roar, the engine turned over and Vic put it in gear. Fuck this shit. He'd had enough.

More than enough! When Mac crossed the small space between the two vehicles and pounded on his window, it was all Vic could do to NOT run the self-centered little bastard over.

Exercising great control over his temper and keeping his gaze resolutely forward, Vic carefully pulled away - making sure that he gave NO sign that Mac's repetitive cries of "Vic" were heard. He didn't even look into the rearview mirror, knowing all too well that Mac stood there gazing after him with those damned hurt puppy dog eyes.

He left Mac, the Agency, the Director, LiAnn and everything else behind, concentrating on the road and the traffic. He drove, trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing, that it was only sensible to just give himself some distance from what had happened. But that was the problem, wasn't it? Mac was so much part of every aspect of his life, he couldn't distance himself from the other man. They worked together, spent all their time together. Was it so surprising that he'd fallen into the other man's arms the night before. Fallen? Hell, who was he trying to kid.

He'd sat down next to Mac, knowing full well that he was extremely drunk and very confused, and pulled him into his embrace. And he'd felt damned good, just right. Victor remembered the sensations well, despite the alcohol binge.

Vic felt his conscience nudge him, heard a tiny voice that whispered, 'he wanted you and you took advantage of that'. Yeah. It had felt nice to be wanted. But had the younger man really wanted VIC, or had he just wanted the solace of a warm body, the imagined comfort of someone who cared when LiAnn so obviously didn't.

Realizing his mind was running in circles, that he was worrying this problem like a dog working a juicy bone, Vic wondered if he wasn't just doing exactly what he'd just accused Mac of: running, hiding...

A glance in the rearview mirror made him do a double take. There was no mistaking it though; Mac's car was behind him. Damn it! Didn't that man know how to take a brush-off gracefully. Mac had probably been tailing him the whole time, and now, here they were, nearly at Vic's place once again. Another glance didn't tell him much about his partner's state of mind; Mac was wearing his shades again and seemed focused simply on driving the racy sports car. Although Vic considered that it might be a good sign that the young thief had been content to merely follow Vic's truck and hadn't taken advantage of his inattention to force him off the road or ram him at a stoplight.

With a grim little smile, Victor covered the last few blocks to his apartment. It appeared they were going to have this conversation after all.

***********

By the time he pulled up in front of his building, Vic was again livid. He didn't stop to wonder why he was so angry. He merely slammed the truck into park, turned off the engine and bolted out of the cab. Slamming the vehicle's door behind him, Vic went to stand impatiently beside Mac's car, his arms folded and his foot tapping impatiently until Mac finally opened his door and began to unfold his gangly frame from behind the wheel.

"WHAT?" Victor growled at Mac. "What do you want? WHY are you here?"

Pulling off his glasses, Mac allowed Vic an unobstructed view of his expression. Instead of the expected anger or smug attitude, Vic was surprised to see a look of frustrated confusion. A look that clearly spoke of hurt feelings. "Look, Victor... I don't understand," the younger man began.

"Why are you so angry? Why did you just storm off like that? Is this about earlier? About what I said to LiAnn, maybe? I didn't mean to make her suspicious; I just didn't know what to say.

"I - DAMMIT, Vic - I don't want to lose - I mean, don't you think we should talk? About last night? Or, was the whole thing just a drunken mistake? Am I not what you want - not your type - so undesirable that you regret last night? Should I go away -

should we just forget it? Is that what you want?"

"I CAN'T forget, Mac... that's the fucking problem," Vic snarled. "I took advantage - can't forget THAT. And I am very much afraid of you waking tomorrow and coming to the realization that I used you. That I used your vulnerability over LiAnn's injury to take something you wouldn't have otherwise even thought to offer.

"Don't you understand, Mac? I feel guilty. Guilty that I pushed you into something that wasn't fair to you. I'm afraid you'll start to hate me, that this will cost me your friendship - affect our partnership."

******************

The words hurt. But Mac pushed that pain aside and forced himself to mull over Vic's statement, taking a few moments to allow the words to sink through his tangled emotions, to give Vic's concerns the full consideration they deserved. It was hard though. Hard to seriously evaluate whether or not the older man had taken advantage of his shaky emotional state when all he felt was a surge of relief.

So, I'm not alone. I'm not the only one who doesn't know how to act about this.

Truthfully, Vic's admission brought him relief. Relief that he wasn't alone in his fears. But hard on the heels of that feeling came a gut-wrenching certainty that if they didn't talk this out now the amazing possibilities last night had shown him would fade into nothingness.

"Vic - listen to me. The only way this can ruin our friendship, or partnership, is if we let it. Give me a chance - give US a chance," Mac urged. "Can't we, I dunno, go upstairs and talk?"

Vic sighed heavily.

"Oookay," Mac said, desperate to come up with a plan that would satisfy Vic's obvious reluctance to allow Mac into his home - again. "How about my place? The park? A bar? Whatever. I think we HAVE to talk now, Vic - before we have a chance to retreat any further. I don't want last night to just be ignored. It...well it meant something to me, and I think to you too. Let's not brush this under the rug without giving it an honest chance."

Vic made no response, his face carefully blank and his green eyes icy as he listened to Mac's emotional ramblings.

Long seconds passed in silence while Mac waited for his partner to respond. Finally, Mac shook his head in disgust. "Fuck it," he said in a low voice as he replaced his sunglasses and turned to leave. "It didn't happen, okay? Since that's what you seem to want, it didn't happen. I won't say anything - to anyone. We'll just ignore it all - the whole damned thing. Go back to the way we were before I FUCKED up. Before I let you... before I learned that... " He waved one hand helplessly as he started walking back to his car.

"Where are you going?" The voice was deep and quiet, the words barely loud enough to be heard.

Mac stopped and shrugged, pointedly keeping his back to the other man. "Out," he said.

"Out where?"

What the fuck was up with the twenty questions thing? "I don't know, Vic," he sighed. "A bar, I suppose." And some devil inside had him adding, "A gay bar, maybe. See if the whole thing was just a reaction to the situation, or if this is something I really want to investigate further. "

"No," Vic said, immediately, cutting him off with a harsh, almost angry tone.

***********

There was no way he could handle that thought. The mere suggestion of Mac going off and slumming around some gay bar just to compare notes and see if his new experiences could be latent 'gayness' sent a flash like a cold wave over Vic, sobering him instantly. While part of him knew he should let the younger man go, to stay as far the hell away from him as could be managed, a larger part shouted that it couldn't be allowed to happen. Victor's mind whirled at the intensity of his automatic and possessive response.

Mac stared at him in obvious surprise. "What do you mean 'no'? Jesus, Victor; you're gonna have to make up your mind here. One second you're pushing me away, the next you're acting like I'm not allowed to breathe without your express permission. You're making me dizzy. Make up your goddamned mind already."

Frustrated, Vic scowled at his partner, wishing that the younger man didn't look so ...confused and appealing. In spite of the unfortunate inclusion of far too much alcohol, last night had meant a lot to him, more than he wanted to face. And it was more than "scratching an itch," more than the satisfaction of mutual need. Sure, the physical contact was a welcome change from cold, lonely nights, but he could have gotten that from any one-night stand he chose to take home.

It was the thought of a specific warm body, his partner's long-limbed and gangly strength urgently pressing against him, responding with mutual desire and care. He hadn't dreamed Mac's reactions last night. While Vic, himself, had initiated the entire thing, he hadn't imagined Mac's excited response and enthusiastic participation. But it kept coming back to the same damned thing. He was the more experienced partner, he'd known that Mac had been both drunk and emotionally fragile, yet he'd pushed Mac into a premature induction into a new, previously unexplored side of his nature. Call it what it was. He'd taken advantage of Mac's feelings. He'd been too eager. And he'd known it even as he'd plunged them both down this path.

Vic licked dry lips. "I guess I'm just feeling guilty, that's all - and, I'm taking it out on you, Mac,"

Vic mumbled. "And, I'm scared - of what I could feel for you. Of you just using me to satisfy your curiosity. I... I ... Mac last night I let you see me. SEE me."

Mac removed his glasses again. The dark eyes were warm and earnest. They seemed to promise that Mac understood and was willing to talk this through. "Vic, please, can't we just go upstairs and talk about this?"

His feelings of reluctance still gnawing at his gut, Vic finally nodded and lead the way into the building.

********************

In the elevator, Mac opened his mouth to speak. Vic held up one hand in a staying gesture. "Not here. I'll check for bugs in the apartment when we get there. But... Hell, I wouldn't put anything past that woman! She probably has my entire building bugged."

Nodding in silent agreement, Mac studied Vic's expression. Fear. Doubt. Guilt. All easy to read in the expressive jade eyes. And all feelings he could empathize with, feelings he shared.

Dammit, he needed to get his own head on straight, and pretty darned quickly, too. Just what did he want from Vic? What did he expect of the other man?

Once they'd entered Vic's place, Mac concentrated on making coffee - no booze tonight, thank you very much - while Vic checked for listening devices. Both finished at the same time and headed in to the living room, each bearing a cup of steaming coffee. Placing the cups on the low table in front of the sofa, they wordlessly set to work removing the audio and video feeds from the light fixture above them.

That task finished and the apartment as "Director-proof" as they knew how to make it, the partners returned to the couch, each man sitting at an opposite end, as much distance as possible between them.

"So?" Mac finally volunteered when the silence became oppressive. "Let's talk, Vic."

Vic turned his attention from the steam rising from the mug he held in both hands long enough to offer Mac a grim look. "We might as well get down to it, I suppose." He drew another deep breath, his gaze unfocusing to stare off into middle distance. "Last night was... was..."

"It was good," Mac stated firmly.

"Yeah, it was, I can't argue that. But-"

"Would you want to do it again?" Mac interrupted. He wasn't going to let Victor turn his back on what they'd shared without a fight.

Vic sighed. "Yeah. I would. But that's not the point."

"Oh, I think it is, Vic," Mac said, gently. "I think it's very much the point."

As Mack watched, the older man thumped his coffee cup down on the table, not even noticing that a tiny bit of the liquid splashed out. Not like Vic at all. Rising from the couch, Vic began to pace out his agitation. "No, Mac - that's what you refuse to see. This is EXACTLY what I'm talking about! I'm bi, not something you knew, but something I accepted about myself a long time ago. I find you very desirable, and I know you've always been wilder than was good for you. You've never been one to avoid a dangerous situation or back down from a challenge.

"I'm thrilled that you think what we did together was "good' but I don't want you doing this for the wrong reasons. I can't ... I feel so fucking bad! I took advantage of you and your situation with LiAnn. You never would have come to me looking for what we did; I seduced you. You're straight, for godssake!"

"Vic." Mac chose his words carefully, seeing that his partner was on the edge, that this could go either way. "You didn't trick me or force me. Nothing happened to me that I didn't ask for.... Based on that alone, I think we have to change the "straight" designation to at least "bi-curious".

And straight or not, I want to continue this - I want you. I think maybe I'm-" SHIT! Mac cut himself off. No need to admit any more than either was ready for. "Can't we just try it - try us?"

Victor halted his pacing and turned to stare down at the seated man. "Mac, did you hear what you just said? Can you honestly tell me that there was a doubt in your mind last week, hell, two days ago, that you were anything less than 100% heterosexual? How can you be sure what you want? I don't want you to feel obliged to get into this simply because you know I want you. I mean, I - I've wanted - this isn't new...." Apparently unable to form his thoughts into coherent arguments,

Vic groaned and sank back onto the couch, this time slightly closer to his partner.

Mac raised his brows at Vic, offering a slight smile of encouragement. "Good, good. This is progress. We're talking here, that's gotta be good. So," he took a breath, refusing to be distracted from his goal, "can we try us, then?"

Vic closed his eyes and rubbed distractedly at his forehead - a sure sign of a headache. Mac could tell the older man was mentally and emotionally exhausted. On one hand he felt bad that he was continuing to badger Vic about this when it was clear all he wanted was some peace and quiet and an early night. But he couldn't feel too badly about it. He couldn't say how he knew, but this was a fight that he had to win, that was worth whatever he had to do. Even if it meant heartlessly backing the other man into a corner when he was less than 100%.

Opening his eyes, Vic sighed, "Yeah, I guess we can. In a way, I think we already have, that there already is an "us". Ignoring it isn't going to make it go away. We've already started something here, we might as well see it through." He turned his head to regard Mac. "It would be a shame not to."

//A shame not to//

//Shame//

Damn.

Vic's reticence - the tone of his reluctant agreement warned Mac that all was not well in the world of Victor Mansfield. "Vic, I really do want you," he tried to reassure. "Truly - and not because you fooled me or seduced me or pushed me into anything. I want YOU, the person, the man. I don't think gay, straight, or bi comes into it. I just want you - only you. I only said that about going to a bar to get a reaction. And," he added in a shamed tone, "because I felt rejected. I wouldn't do that - don't want anyone else.

"If it's too soon - if you need more time, well, I can deal." Mac shrugged. "I want us to do this right, Vic - I ... hell, I don't want to lose you over this."

*********************

Vic was struggling with this outpouring. It was almost as if Mac had pulled the rug out from under him, calling him on every point, had an answer for every roadblock that stood between them. Leaving nothing, no impediments. Which meant...

"That makes two of us, then, I guess." Vic passed a hand over his face. "Look, I'm - I don't want to lose you either. If you're okay with it, than so am I. I just don't want you feeling like I've pushed you. That's all. I'm sorry I've been so difficult, that I ran off and left you at the Agency."

Vic ploughed on, not seeing Mac roll his eyes at this customary assumption of guilt and blame.

"I do want this. I mean, you. When I said we shouldn't be together, I wasn't rejecting you, I was rejecting obligating you to something you might not be ready for." He gave a short, self-derisive laugh. "If anything, I think I was more worried you were rejecting me."

Vic looked back over to Mac, gauging his reaction and waiting to see how this would go down.

He really didn't want to make any bigger of a mess of things than they already were.

"Sooo," Mac drawled. "Let's summarize here, shall we? We agree that we both want each other, that the sex between us was excellent, that we're both worried about doing something to jeopardize our friendship and working relationship, but are going to go forward with exploring this ... attraction anyway. Sound about right to you?" Mac accompanied this final question with his familiar smug smirk.

Feeling more at ease with this familiar sight, Vic wasn't able to suppress a tired chuckle. "Yeah, teach, that's about the size of it."

Nodding, Mac continued, "Does this mean... um, should we wait? Take our time - let the sex come later - IF that's where we end up?" The younger man was trying for nonchalance but Vic could see his features tighten as he asked the casual question.

Not sure how to respond, Victor was surprised at the thought that immediately popped into his mind. Oh god, let this lead to sex - that and so much more.

At Vic's silence, Mac continued, "I guess I'm asking if we should slow things down. You know, dating, romance, the whole "get to know each other better" thing. Basically, forget last night, set it aside and just spend time together.

"Don't get me wrong, Vic. I'm so fucking horny for you that I'd just as soon drag you into the bedroom. But, I'm just so - I want so much to do this right - to do what you want. Please, god, please tell me what you want from me."

Vic felt a pulse of arousal begin deep inside of him at Mac's words. He tried to ignore it, shoulder it aside - it wasn't really what the situation called for at this point. He didn't want things to flare out of control as they had the night before. He looked over at Mac, studying his partner carefully, noticing things about him for the first time. Was just his imagination, or was Mac really as vulnerable, as emotionally open as he appeared right now?

The realization caused violently conflicting impulses. A part of him couldn't help responding protectively - and he was probably the main thing that Mac needed protecting from. But this more accessible side Mac was showing was making his libido soar. Just thinking about it made him lick his lips and his dick was hard enough to cut glass.

*************

Mac waited for Vic to answer, to lay out how they were to proceed. He risked a glance at Vic to see what he might be thinking. What he saw knocked the breath out of him. Vic was giving him that LOOK.

Mac asked, cautiously, "Uh, Vic?" Almost gasped when Vic smiled a little smile at him, one that was filled with an unexpectedly devilish desire ...

Mac swallowed hard. He blinked. What the hell? Not five minutes ago Vic had been trying to push him away, now he seemed to be staring at him the way a hungry leopard assessed a tender, young antelope. He frowned, more than a little confused. "Vic?"

"Yeees?"

Ohmigod. That voice. Low, gravelly and so damned sexy. "Uh - Are you saying, um, offering, ah, answering me the way I think you're answering me? Does this mean...." Mac stammered to a halt struggling to ignore the way his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest.

Vic rose, the movement sinuous and very, very sensual...

//Shit - you are SO far gone, Ramsey//

and held out one hand to Mac. "Yes," he said simply, still in that voice.

"Oh." Mac knew he'd squeaked. Pretty damned embarrassing to be squeaking at his age, but he couldn't bring himself to care too much. Not now. Nope, he was too busy worrying that his suddenly wobbly legs would cause him to end up in a heap at Vic's feet.

Wouldn't THAT be a kick in the ass?

Taking a deep breath, Mac took Vic's hand, not even trying to suppress the shudder of emotion the warm contact sent through his body. He allowed the other man to pull him to his feet, he even managed to stay upright. Next problem - locomotion. As Vic turned and tugged Mac in the direction of the bedroom, Mac was vastly relieved to find that he could, indeed, walk.

Once inside the bedroom, with the door firmly shut, clothes went flying, a whirlwind of apparel discarded with abandon. Then Mac's world consisted of nothing but heat and amazing feeling of Victor's mouth against his own.

They managed to get onto the bed, not quite making it under the covers. Mac didn't mind; he liked seeing all of Vic like this. Naked, trembling and flushed, his cock jutting proudly forth and with that gleaming, desperate hot look in those deep green eyes.

"God, Vic," Mac panted. "I want... I want you so much." He looked at Vic with appeal. "What - what should I do?"

"Fuck me, of course."

Mac lost his ability to breathe at that. Fuck Vic? Oh no ... he couldn't - could he?

Or, could he? Finally able to draw breath again, Mac considered the possibilities. His cock grew impossibly hard at the very thought. But...

"I've never done that, Vic. Think you're up to giving an amateur instructions? Or," he hesitated, filled with doubts, "did you mean it? Seriously?"

Vic pulled Mac closer and pressed his lips to one ear. "Seriously, Mac. Very seriously- I want to feel you inside of me. Need it. Need you."

One hand reached down to caress Mac's balls, cupping and handling them while he sucked in a breath and tried to remember what was required of him. Oh. Vic wanted him...INSIDE of him... Jesus. The thought made his cock pulse and Vic chuckled gently against his neck as he felt Mac's response to both Vic's words and touch.

"Victor," Mac breathed, just enjoying saying his name as Vic's hand now moved upward to grip his cock. It wasn't enough - he wanted to feel his body against Vic's, so completely, so totally, that they were joined. So that their skin was no longer separating them from each other. Wanted to stay like this forever. He found his heart thudding rapidly inside of his chest at the final, inescapable conclusion that this led to. He wanted Vic. Wanted him now and forever. Couldn't let go of him now that he had him. He knew he was willing to do whatever it took to make this last. To make *them* last.

**********

While he held his trembling young lover in his arms, Vic was trying to remember where they'd left the condoms and lube. He was anxious to feel Mac's slender, long silky shaft filling him.... He looked about the room and happened to catch the expression on Mac's face. It froze him into stillness.

Do I look like that too? All sort of dazed and flushed? Eyes wide and all pupil?

Vic closed his eyes tightly, suddenly feeling unworthy of the almost reverent emotions he could see in his partner's gaze. After a moment, he leaned down to press a warm kiss to that plush mouth. Gathering his composure, he whispered, "Won't be a moment. I need to get the lube."

**************

Mac swallowed the lump in his throat, reminding himself that breathing was a pre-requisite for survival as he watched Vic searching around for the lube and condoms. It seemed so illicit to gain such a thrill from seeing Vic naked like this, and with the added anticipation of soon to be fucking him - fucking VIC, for Godssake. It left him shaking slightly. He felt tensed like a coiled spring. The sight of that ass as Vic leaned down momentarily sent a bolt of pure lust shooting through his lower belly, cranking his arousal to an almost unbearable level.

"Vic," he said urgently in a low voice.

Vic straightened, his eyes widening as he turned in disbelief at the deep, husky arousal in Mac's voice. Triumphantly, Vic displayed the required items to Mac. "On my way, babe."

He scurried over to join Mac and climbed into the bed, immediately pulling the other man closer. As he gently arranged Mac's length along his, Vic sighed happily. "I want you," he murmured huskily. "So much, Mac."

With a demanding tug, Vic let Mac know that he wanted the feel of that lanky form atop him. Mac willingly rolled on top the other man, not even pausing to consider whether his weight would be a burden.

"God, that feels good!" Vic groaned.

Apparently the weight wasn't an issue. Arching, raising Mac like the crest of a wave, Vic sought more contact, thrusting his hips and grinding their matching erections together.

"Mmmm, oh yeah!" Vic groaned helplessly. "You feel... Oh, Mac - I've wanted this - you - so badly. So glad you followed me home."

Reacting as much to Vic's words as the obvious desire the man felt, Mac writhed against him. His breathing hot and labored, Mac tried his best to climb right inside of Vic's skin. "You're killing me here, Vic. What - how do I do this? Want to fuck you... Want you so much!"

Vic chewed his lower lip, breathing hard. "I think - here," and he got up, reluctantly detaching himself from Mac's embrace to slide down on the bed and lay there, on his stomach. "Let's try it this way."

Mac gave a little moan at the sight. Vic was laying facedown, his head turned to the right, with his arms up around the pillow, seemingly holding onto it for support. His legs were parted slightly, with his right knee bent. Mac reverently got up to lean over him, kissing his way down the smooth back, marveling at the warmth, the suppleness, the sheer beauty of the man under him. When his traveling hands reached Vic's hips, he bent to kiss the pale asscheeks, loving the way the skin felt to his lips as his mouth followed.

Mac gulped, wanting nothing more than to plunge his aching hardness between those taut buttocks, but he felt awkward. He wasn't sure that he wouldn't cause Vic either discomfort or pain, seeing as his intended point of entry was so much tighter than any cunt he'd had. "Um, Vic?" he asked, quietly. "How do you want me to go about this?"

Shifting impatiently, Vic glanced at Mac. He seemed to realize how overwhelmed the younger man felt and offered an encouraging smile. "Mac, pick up the lube - yeah, that's it. Now, put a little on your fingers... "

When Mac's shaky hands had managed the flip top and his fingers were coated in the clear lubricant, Vic continued. "Lay down next to me, Mac. I want to feel you against me while you get me ready."

"God, Vic , your voice alone could make me - " With a sigh of joy, Mac lay down, draping his body along Vic's. Heat. That silky skin was so fucking hot! "Okay, Vic, here I am, fingers lubed ... what now?"

"Now, you prepare me, Mac." Vic said huskily - urgently. "Stretch my asshole - so you can - OH GOD!!" Vic jumped when Mac carefully ran one finger across his opening. "More. Please, MORE!"

Vic's responsiveness atop Mac's already aroused senses was almost more than he could bear. He grinned. Flashes of what had happened between them last night came in flickering images and remembered sensations... He knew exactly how Vic must feel at this moment. He gently slid the end of one finger into Vic's hot, tightly puckered anus, relishing the way Vic groaned aloud and seemingly moved his hips involuntarily.

"More, oh yes, that's it," Vic strained, his voice going all whispery and choked.

Mac chuckled inaudibly beside him and replied, "You're so beautiful like this." He slid more of a slippery finger into Vic's clenching hole. "Love doing this to you." He began to slide his finger in and out, experimentally.

It garnered quite an awesome reaction. "Shit! FUCK!" Vic moaned. "Damn, Mac - I think you've a natural." He raised his hips further and started rocking onto that wonderfully invasive finger. "OH!" He exclaimed. "Oh SHIT, yesss. More, Mac - another finger."

"Don't... don't want to hurt you, Vic," was the panted response.

Turning his head, Vic let Mac see just how much he was loving this - how GOOD it felt. "Not gonna hurt me," he promised. "Just - just more, please?"

Mac grunted and reached to apply more lube to his fingers. No matter what Vic said, Mac was determined to take his time and do this right. Never mind his aching, dripping cock. He could wait, take the time to be sure Vic was ready for him... he'd take all the time necessary.

Carefully, he slipped another finger into Vic. Damn, the man was tight - and warm - and the passage was so silky! With a desperate sound, Mac asked, "You okay? Am I doing this right? "

"Y-you're doing fine. Dammit, Mac, please, I'm ready NOW." With his insides turning to jelly and his body locked into some kind of primitive reaction, Vic was gasping for breath, squirming with two fingers now sliding in and out of him as he couldn't help moving back, trying to get more of them into him. "Please! Want your cock in me, now!"

Mac obediently slipped his fingers out of Vic's clutching anus and began to unroll the condom onto his cock. He fumbled the attempt twice, his fingers were trembling with anticipation and slippery with lube. Finally, he had to get up from the mattress and concentrate on doing it properly. The condom seemed just a little too tight on his prick, but he was past caring and it really was nothing. Nothing compared to how tight Vic's ass was. God. With a mixture of awe and lust, Mac climbed between Vic's legs to lean back down over him and place the head of his cock against Vic's desperate and eager hole, his little backward grinding movements taking Mac into him before Mac had even begun to push.

OH. JESUS.

Vic's ass was so... so good, a vise-like grip sucking him into a satiny furnace. He whimpered slightly, he was so ready to just let go then and there, give into some wild idea of slamming into that tightness, that depth. "Vic," he managed, his voice carrying a high-pitched note of desperation that carried through the strained huskiness.

Very much afraid that he'd come right away just knowing he was inside Vic, Mac paused. Gasping for air and dripping sweat, he did his best to calm down, bring himself under control.

Vic wriggled under him, pushing back onto Mac's cock. "Oh FUCK!" Mac ground out. "Vic... Victor, hold still for a minute, okay? You don't want this to be over TOO quickly, do you?"

"No," Vic groaned - and clenched his anal muscles around Mac. "I don't - but it's so good, Mac. I don't think I can wait..." Whimpering with desperate need, he ground his ass against Mac's groin. "Can't," he panted, "can't wait.... Jesus, Mac, fuck me. Please."

Pushing himself up onto his knees, Vic started to fuck himself on Mac's hardness. Overwhelmed by the sensation, Mac gripped Vic's hips tightly with both hands. He was probably leaving bruises on that milky skin but he couldn't bring himself to care. And judging by the sob of pleasure that shook Vic's body, he wasn't minding too much either. In fact, the thought of seeing marks he'd caused left on his partner's body was deeply arousing.

"Okay, baby, you want it, you got it," Mac promised, gritting his teeth with the effort to not come as Vic continued to work himself on Mac's length. Putting some muscle into it, Mac began to thrust forward into Vic, setting a faster pace than Vic had been able to.

*************

Vic gasped and locked his arms to brace himself as Mac finally - FINALLY - began to fuck him in earnest. Each time Mac's cock slid fully into him, deeper and harder with every thrust, a jolt of searing pleasure went racing through him. He was about to come himself, without anything or anyone touching his cock.

Vic couldn't help giving an open-mouthed cry with every slam of Mac's hips against him. The magic that Mac's cock was working on his prostate, as well as filling him and stretching him so completely, so wonderfully, almost made up for the desperate itch Vic had to feel his ass being reamed out harder. Mac didn't seem to realize Vic could willingly take deeper, harder thrusts, but that was something he'd learn with time and experience. Right now, he was doing a very admirable job of blowing the top off Vic's skull.

As if hearing Vic's mental wish for more, Mac drove into him harder and harder. Vic could feel that expansive bubble of pleasure rising from his feet to reach his lower belly, rising up further to reach his head and then began to cry out as his cock let loose, his come shooting out of him to land on the bed beneath as he shook, convulsing slightly with the force of his climax.

****************

That cry. Lord - the way Vic's muscles clenched around his cock! Mac tightened his hold on Vic's hips and thrust into his silky passage as far as possible. Not breathing, unable to breathe, he froze. The rippling contractions of Vic's asshole were irresistible - as was the knowledge that the ripples were in reaction to HIM.

As that thought took over, Mac couldn't hold off any longer. With a shout, he pulled out once more, slamming his way back in - as far into Vic as possible.

And came.

And came some more. Black spots were dancing before his eyes and his ears were rushing hollowly when Mac felt Vic collapse onto the bed. Having no strength left in his own limbs, Mac had no choice but to follow him down, coming to rest heavily on his back. For quite some time, there was no sound in the room but the gradually slowing breathing of the two exhausted men.

"Damn," Vic finally mumbled.

"Yeah," Mac responded, surprised to find that he could not only breathe, he could speak.

With a happy sigh, Vic reached back and closed one hand over Mac's hip. "Night," he mumbled drowsily.

"Mmph," was the reply. But Mac was not really in a position to sleep, draped on top of Vic's frame. And besides, it was necessary to get this condom off. He pulled out of Vic carefully, then padded off to the bathroom to clean up.

*************

The surprised expression on his face clearly said Mac had expected Vic to be asleep when he came back from the bathroom.

Grinning from the bed where he'd crawled under the hastily straightened covers, Vic invited, "Come on; get in."

Holding open the covers as Mac slipped into the bed beside him, Vic pulled the other man down against the pillows and willingly met the arms that reached out to him halfway.

Vic snuggled in against Mac, holding him closer and sighing with contentment. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and more than ready for sleep. If only he could get his mind to feel as relaxed and sated as his body. But there was that damned little voice in his head, the one that popped off with things he didn't want to think about, usually at the worst possible times.

And that damned voice was suggesting the two men had, in the time-honored tradition of men everywhere, used sex to avoid dealing with how they felt about each other. He couldn't help suspecting that he was himself falling deeper for Mac than was wise. This was the second time they'd had sex and it seemed to be even better than he'd remembered. Not hard, given their drunken state the first time, but still...

Then it hit him. Like a flashing neon sign pointing out disaster ahead.

'Falling for Mac'.

Falling, hell. Damned if he hadn't already fallen. The moment Mac had shown even the slightest inclination for him, seemed to let down his guard, opened himself and let himself show Vic that he wanted him... Vic had been lost the second he'd seen Mac's eyes and the vulnerability of his own desire for Victor - his partner, his rival, his friend.

This was NOT what he had planned. This was too big, too messy. No way he could do this. No way.

But it was too damned late and he knew it. It was already done.

He loved Mac. And Mac loved him. The sex hadn't been avoidance at all; it had been a way for both of them to show their love without having to admit it aloud.

Another typical "guy" thing.

And in doing so, they'd fallen headlong into it. No doubt the Director was laughing her ass off, Dobrinsky chuckling at her side, as they watched the two of them from some as-yet-undiscovered camera.

However, the awareness of what he and Mac now had was enough to bring its own reassurance and Vic knew he didn't give a damn. Because there was happiness here. There was comfort in the act of holding Mac, of feeling Mac's arms about him, of the touch of Mac's warm body close up against his. And, for now at least, that was enough.

In the gathered darkness, Vic smiled to himself.

END