Many thanks to Unovis, Terri, and Destina for betaing.
 
 
 
"You and I, we're flip sides of the same coin, brother." -- Roger Lococco 
  

~~~~~

It didn't take Vinnie more than a week to figure out the lay of the land under Steelgrave Industries. He learned who did what, and where, and how. He got to know all the names of the men on the docks, and how long they'd been working there. And at the casino, and in the office, he knew everyone's name, a running roll call in his head.

Mike  Castiliano -- chef in the kitchens. Had been working for the Steelgraves since the beginning. Used to be a runner for Joey Bags when he was a kid, until he got shot in the gut and nearly died. Now, he made sausages.

Jeannie Giordano -- secretary. Types sixty words a minute and could take dictation better than a tape recorder. Neighborhood girl, always brought Sonny his coffee in the morning with a bright smile. She was off limits.

Rosa Simmons -- dancer and definitely not off limits. Frankie Ross -- waiter and sometimes body guard. Jack Cimino, someone's retarded kid brother -- janitor.

Stevie the Vault -- special orders. When Vinnie first heard Stevie's name he thought they were pulling his leg and nearly blew it by laughing out loud. He was called the Vault because if you told Stevie something, it was never repeated. A useful man.

Stevie procured prostitutes for Sonny and that was no secret, even if no one talked about it. Vinnie knew all the signs and could predict what kind of girl Stevie would get for Sonny. When Sonny was happy and confident, he liked to have his dick sucked by a pretty girl. When he was jazzed, high on a good deal, he wanted two or three girls and liked to spread his wealth around, often inviting Vinnie to join him. Vinnie did what he could not to forget who he was, not to lose himself in the frisson of Sonny's enthusiasm, but there was not much he could do and how do you say no to that, anyway? And maybe he did lose himself a little sometimes late at night when Sonny watched him from across the room and they faced each other, each with a different woman between their legs.  

When Sonny came down from violence, eyes glittering, energy sparking off him, then his tastes changed. That was when Sonny disappeared and that night's entertainment was smuggled in the long way through the kitchen and up back elevators, that was when Stevie stood guard and no one, not even Vinnie, could get past.

Not that Vinnie didn't know exactly who was brought to Sonny. It was his job to know, and the knowledge sat under his skin, burning a hole into his awareness. 

Then there were the times Vinnie hated himself more than usual for the destruction his job brought, like after Vinnie killed crazy nephew Lorenzo, when the deal with the Jamaicans soured. Those were the nights Vinnie knew how much larger than life Sonny really was, how all encompassing, and he could feel himself slipping away under the seduction of Sonny's energy, becoming less himself and more Sonny's man.

A hand on Vinnie's arm, a look in Sonny's eyes, a quietly spoken, "Wait."

"Sonny," said Vinnie, warily, the hair on the back of his neck rising.

Sonny came real close, close enough for Vinnie to feel the static electricity of his presence tingle across his skin. He put his hands on either side of Vinnie's face, pulling him in to kiss his cheek. "Forgive me, Vinnie."

Vinnie shut his eyes, giving in for a moment and leaning against Sonny, returning the embrace and the kiss. "Of course, Sonny."

The desire glittered in Sonny's eyes as he looked at Vinnie; the invitation to stay, the invitation for more. Vinnie could feel Sonny drawing him in.

Self preservation made Vinnie pull away, knowing Sonny would never force him or ask him again. Self preservation, or maybe fear, it didn't matter. If Vinnie gave this last little bit of himself to Sonny, there would be nothing left but the shell of his job holding him together.

He turned away from Sonny, closing the door against those bright glittering eyes.

Months later when he stood with Sonny on that empty stage of a theater, both battered and bloodied with McPike beating down the door, Sonny yelled "I loved you," hurling it like an accusation. One last stab of anger and betrayal before Sonny took hold of the electricity that defined his energy and died in a hail of sparks.

For as long as Vinnie lived he would never be free of that memory, or shake the feeling of relief that it was over. He would never be free of the guilt he carried because of it.


~~~~


"You're a player, right?"

Vinnie smiled inwardly, knowing he had Roger Lococco and the man didn't even know it yet. "Whatever," he answered, with just the right amount of bored in his voice.

"Make me believe," said Roger. Vinnie felt Roger's eyes on him, taking him in. Roger was all smooth ice and fire, his dark clothes more of a calling card than if he openly carried the gun he said he loved so much. Roger was pretty close-lipped, but Vinnie could sense something about him, something in the way Lococco lingered at the table to talk to Vinnie. He's lonely, thought Vinnie. Ripe for the picking. 

"All right." Vinnie reached into his pocket and handed Roger the newspaper clipping of the Steelgrave job, watching Roger read about him. Briefly he wondered where truth and fiction met, where the divide lay between the real Vince Terranova and the made up one. He smirked at Roger, and took the newspaper back.

"Big shooter from Jersey. You got any real cajones?" asked Roger, a little wiggle to his eyebrows. "Meet me in front of the hotel at 7:30. Wear something dark and rubber-soled shoes."

Vinnie laughed. Was this guy for real? "What, are you kidding me? What are we going to do? Rob a market?"

Roger smiled. "If you show up, you won't be sorry. If you don't show up, well, at least we know what you're made of, Buckwheat." Roger put on a pair of dark sunglasses and left.

Buckwheat? Vinnie watched Lococco walk away, wondering what the hell he just got himself into.
   
~~~~


"I had you pegged for a homophobe the minute I met you." Vinnie entered the bedroom, holding the door open with his foot while he searched for the light switch. He looked around the room Ernest and Lottie had given them for their stay in Valdusda Ridge, straight out of a fucking Norman Rockwell painting.

"Oh, ya did, huh?" Roger shut the door and dropped his bag by the lower bunk.

Vinnie grinned at Roger's casual tone. "Oh yeah, you had that macho black wardrobe, 'I am a coiled snake' look."

"Just the fact that you remember what I was wearing is reason enough for me not to want to bunk with you, sweetheart." Roger shot him a sideways look, making Vinnie feel strangely exposed. Vinnie let the topic drop and Roger started checking the room for bugs, carelessly knocking over photos and other knickknacks.

Home Sweet Home on the walls. Trophies. Posters. What the fuck was he doing here? Vinnie picked up a picture of a kid. That must be their son, he thought. Russell. "Think their son was some kind of high school hero or something. Something's wrong here."

Vinnie didn't like it. Nothing added up in Valdusda Ridge. He couldn't figure out what Ernest and Lottie had to do with the likes of Mel Profitt. With some irony, he reminded himself that this was Mel Profitt. Nothing about that man would ever fall easily into predictability.

Vinnie followed Roger's constant movement around the room. "I think some of Mel's paranoia is rubbing off on you. You got no idea what this is about, do you?" he asked.

Roger paced, picking up a forgotten baseball mitt. "Look, I've been with Mel a year and this is my first encounter with American Gothic," said Roger, his snide, almost bored tone contrasting with the tension that rolled off him in waves.

"This stinks," said Vinnie. He could see where this situation was headed and didn't like it one bit. Judging by the way Roger had clammed up, Vinnie knew Roger saw it too. "I live by some rules, Roger."

"You're not going to start speaking Italian to me, are you?" Roger turned his back to Vinnie, paying more attention to the baseball glove.

"Look, if you're not a player, you're not a target. No exceptions." Vinnie couldn't help raising his voice, trying to make Roger turn around and look at him.

Still playing with the mitt, Roger sat down on the lower bunk. "Cut the light, will ya."

Not for the first time since Vinnie had conned his way into this mess, he stared at Roger, trying to figure him out. Roger was like those paintings where the real picture was hidden behind another picture, and if you stared at it long enough sometimes you could make it out, see past the defenses and evasions and past the mirrors, but then it's gone, impossible to find again.

Vinnie did what he was asked, unable to take his eyes off Roger, wanting to crack that smooth exterior. "Anytime you want to talk."

"Yeah."

Vinnie hit the switch. He stood there by the door, not moving, listening to Roger hit his fist over and over again into the baseball glove. He could hear Roger's breath. When his eyes adjusted he moved to the bed, climbing onto the top bunk, staring at the ceiling.

He could feel Roger's presence pulling at him from below, like gravity. He thought of Susan and her wide, deceptively innocent eyes. He felt her lips on his.

thump. thump. thump.

He closed his eyes, and let the steady rhythm put him to sleep.


~~~~


With the distinct impression of the absurdity of the situation, Vinnie watched Roger take the reins of the horse from Ernest while Vinnie was told to sit his behind on a stool, his hands guided and wrapped around a cow's teat. The stink of the cow slapped him in the face and the heat of the milk splashing on his fingers surprised him. Good God, if only Pete could see him now.

He turned his head away from the smell and saw Roger laughing at him. Laughter and humor being such rare occurrences on that normally cynical face, Vinnie was momentarily caught by the sight. Roger's face fell back to its usual hooded expression, his attention caught elsewhere.

Vinnie followed the direction of Roger's gaze and saw the large figure of Willie Jesus directing his boys in loading stacks of cocaine onto a truck. Willie saw them and he waved his chubby fingers.

Moving to stand next to Roger, Vinnie tried thinking of a way for that cocaine to never leave the farm. Next to him, Roger swore under his breath in what Vinnie could only assume was Vietnamese.

"What was that?" he asked.

Roger glanced at Vinnie, his eyes narrow with animosity. "I got dibs on the fat man." Taking the horse's lead lines, Roger brushed past Vinnie, pausing to whisper in Vinnie's ear, his breath skimming Vinnie's skin. "Cuoi nguoi hom truoc hom sau nguoi cuoi*."

Vinnie watched Roger take the horse into the barn, resisting the urge to rub his skin where he could still feel Roger's breath.

~~~~


Vinnie didn't look directly at Roger sitting across from him at the tiny dinner table, more tense and frayed around the edges than Vinnie had ever thought possible for such a smooth operator. Ernest hadn't really stopped talking all day. Once you got him going, it didn't look like he'd ever get to the end of a conversation. Lottie moved around the table. Vinnie listened to both of them with half his attention, the moonshine that Ernest had kept giving him all day burning a hole in his stomach, making everything sharp and bright.

Abruptly Roger stood up, the scrape of the chair on the floor an accent to the wild and desperate light in his eyes that told Vinnie how close Roger was to breaking. Roger backed out of the room and disappeared up the stairs without a word.

"I'm sorry. I'll see what's matter with him. Excuse me," Vinnie said, rising and following Roger, leaving Ernest and Lottie's bewildered expressions unanswered.

Vinnie paused outside of the bedroom for just a moment, then entered and turned on the lights. "Hey, Roger."

Roger turned around quickly. "Those people might as well be my grandparents," he said, waving his hand in the direction of the rest of the world.

"You talked to Mel, didn't you?" Vinnie felt his insides twist.

"Yeah, how do you know?" Roger shot back, pacing the room.

"I saw him at the general store. He was in the back standing in garbage. Roger, I am not killing these people for that lunatic. Money isn't reason enough."

"Money is never reason enough," Roger said, enigmatically.

"Then why are you here?" Vinnie watched Roger's anger spiral and coil around him with nowhere to unleash it.

"Because too much changes if I leave now."

"Too much changes every day, whether you leave or not. Come on, Mel is halfway to Rangoon and he doesn't even know it."

Roger didn't answer, rolling onto his bunk, his hands pressed together as if in prayer, eyes closed. With a start, Vinnie realized that this whole crazy business -- Ernest and Lottie, the drugs, Willie Jesus, Mel and Sue, everything -- ate at Roger's cool, distant detachment just as much as it ate at Vinnie. It stank like rotten eggs and it bothered Roger like it bothered him. Of all the things he'd expected to feel about Roger, affinity was never one of them.

Vinnie turned away to let Roger wrestle with whatever demons were clawing at him. Roger's voice stopped him.

"Stay."

Vinnie swallowed, the image inside the picture coalescing for a moment. "Why?" he asked.

"Just stay, please."

"All right." He stayed where he was, by the door, waiting for Roger.

"The third world is a desperate place, Vinnie," said Roger, his voice rising in the stillness of the room.

Vinnie barely blinked at the change of topic. "Never been there," he said. If Roger wanted to talk, Vinnie would let him and maybe Vinnie would learn something about whatever the fuck was eating his ass.

"You don't have to go. It'll come to you."

"I guess you've been all over the place."

"Yeah, the Far East, Laos, Cambodia. Last time in South America, the Caribbean. That'll change. New business."

Vinnie's forehead creased into a frown. "What business?"

"Spent so much time there I used to dream in Vietnamese."

For a moment, Vinnie almost pressed him for an explanation, but he let it go. Like almost everything concerning Roger Lococco, the answer slipped away into the ether, leaving only a pale impression. They may have been sharing the same conversation, but something told Vinnie they were talking about two different things entirely.

Vinnie turned the lights off. Moonlight shone through the windows, falling in squares across the floor. Crossing to the bunk bed, Vinnie felt Roger's presence pulling at him, making him pause before he climbed onto his bed.
 
Vinnie rolled onto his back, eyes open but unseeing, his skin crawling with awareness. He could feel Roger through the thin mattress, like a sink well, tugging at his center. It made him want to arch his back, uncomfortable with the sensation. Vinnie started at the sound of Roger's voice, drifting up from below.

"You should see the women there, Vinnie. So slight, and small. I could wrap my hands around their waists, crush them with my hands, like little birds, their heartbeats fluttering, warm against my skin. Lan. Ngoc Mingh. Lua Xuang. Nguyet Cam. Preet."

Vinnie felt the room start to spin, like his mind circling around and around, following Roger's voice. Valdusda Ridge. Mel. Susan. Ernest, Lottie, Willie Jesus, and Russell. McPike and Uncle Mike, and back to Susan, the smell of her long hair, tickling his chest. The weight of her in his arms. He thought of Sonny, his face pummeled and bloodied. From below, he heard fabric against fabric, and he knew Roger moved in his bed, his voice continuing its monologue, lulling him, wrapping around and around, like a strangle hold.

Vinnie put a hand on his stomach, slowly lowering it till it rested on his fly, fingers touching the outline of his dick against the tightness of his jeans, ignoring the small stab of sinful guilt in his belly, the warm flush of shame behind his eyes. He held back for a moment before opening his pants and pulling out his cock, holding it in his hands. Almost hard, but not quite. He moved his forefinger over the head, over and over again, listening to Roger speak in Vietnamese.

He closed his eyes and envisioned Susan above him, looking at him with her beautiful dark eyes, her breasts pressed against him, round and perfect, her nipples hard. She looked at him and then faded away and suddenly there was Sonny. Vinnie tightened his grip on his cock, breathing through the rush of arousal, remembering the stink of Sonny's sweat when they boxed, the feel of Sonny's fists connecting with his jaw. 

Vinnie's hand moved faster, and faster. Months in prison had taught him how to be quiet. He heard Roger move below him, the sound of skin against skin. His cock jumped and he pushed into his hand, coming silently, pulsing, wave after wave, image after image.

His heart beat hard in his chest. He lay still. Roger fell silent and the stillness in the room stretched like a rubber band.

"'Night, Vince," said Roger, quietly.

~~~~


The airplane vibrated, accelerating down the runway. Vinnie felt the pressure of take off pushing him against his seat as the nose of the plane lifted and jumped into the air, rocketing back to the wonderland of Mel and Susan Profitt.

Since leaving Valdusda Ridge, Roger hadn't said a word. He sat across the aisle from Vinnie, silent and wrapped up in his own misery. After the fourth attempt at drawing him out, Vinnie gave up. Not like Vinnie really wanted to dwell on what happened in Tennessee, either. He drifted in and out of daydreams, lost in the vision of Susan Profitt's lush lips, until Roger finally spoke.

"Do you know what you're going to say to them?" asked Roger, his voice quiet and low.

Vinnie didn't have to be told which 'them' Roger meant. He shifted in his seat, looking over at Roger. Roger kept his face averted, staring at the inky darkness outside his cabin window.

"Yeah, I think so," Vinnie answered. "If Mel is such a fan of Malthus, I'll just throw some of that back at him."

Roger threw him a quick glance, that low smile of his touching his lips. "Of course. Vinnie Terranova, always ready with a good answer."

"Yeah, learned that in the third grade each time Mrs. Lossorelli smacked my hand with a ruler for not having a sharp reply ready."

Roger smirked. "You're a prize, Terranova. I don't know whether to throw you off the plane for being trite or for being too smart for your own good."

"You can certainly try." They fell silent again for a moment but Vinnie was too much aware of Roger to ignore him. "The offer stands. Anytime you want to talk."

Roger looked at him, his eyes sharp and piercing. For a moment Vinnie thought on the differences between Roger and Mel, and Sonny. Sonny took up a whole room with his presence. He was bigger and brighter than anything and everything. He could swallow you whole, he was so much larger than life. Mel was similar, only where Sonny was like the sun, Mel just gave off radioactive rays. Roger, though, was the opposite. He was like a black hole, something you could fall into, pulling you into a downward spiral, something with the potential to strip the light away.

"Careful what you wish for," said Roger.

Vinnie's gut tightened. Roger turned away and left Vinnie alone with his thoughts and the memory of a dark room in Tennessee.

~~~~


The girl gave Vinnie a dazzling grin, glossy lips and sparkling eyes shining inches from his face, blonde hair falling in golden strands. Before he could stop her, she kissed him, pressing him against the softness of the couch. She crawled over him, taking his hands and placing them over her full, bare breasts. Christ, thought Vinnie, desperately, lost for a second as he kissed her deeply, inhaling the dizzy scent of her perfume.

"I'm sorry," Vinnie said, easing away from the girl. "I gotta go."

"Awww." She pouted prettily but rolled over and started kissing another woman that lay next to her. Vinnie couldn't keep his jaw from dropping as he watched the blonde move up the other woman's body and pull up her skirt, squealing as the woman began pleasuring her with her mouth. Vinnie pulled his hand through his hair, tearing his eyes away, but everywhere he looked it was the same variation on a theme.

Jesus Christ. He saw Roger smirking at him from the doorway. "Yeah, yeah," said Vinnie, moving to join him at the door. "Is it always like this?"

They hadn't been back from Tennessee more than a day. Vinnie didn't know whether he was coming or going at this point. There had been one or two other parties before Valdusda Ridge that had gotten a little wild, but nothing like this.

"You don't like?" Roger reached out and stopped yet another girl from stumbling down the few steps into the room. She giggled at him.

"I didn't say that. I'm just, you know, adjusting."

Roger laughed. "One orgy is pretty much like the next, and then it's orgy, orgy, orgy all the time. It loses something in the repetition."

Vinnie laughed nervously when he saw Roger was playing with him. "That's funny."

"You think I'm joking." Roger slapped Vinnie on the back. "You get used to it," he said, walking away.

Play Room Duty, Mel called it, said it was a rite of passage. Vinnie recalled Mel's words from earlier. "If you can survive the Play Room, you can survive anything, Vinnie, my boy. Keep an eye on things; make sure it doesn't get too... carried away. Try and stop anyone from dying, if possible, but don't worry too much about it."

Yeah, right, he'd get used to it. Vinnie let a breath out slowly, watching a daisy chain of guy-guy-girl-guy snorting cocaine off various body parts fall off a couch and land with a thud, white powder sugaring the floor. Standing with his back to the wall, he settled in for a long night.


~~~~


Two week and two parties later and it felt like Vinnie had always lived in the Play Room. You get used to it, my ass. He smiled at all the pretty girls and pretty boys (where did Mel find these people?), fending them off one, two, three at a time. Didn't anybody ever get tired around here?

On top of the constant parties, Mel was on edge, which made Roger on edge, which made Vinnie on edge, which made McPike absolutely white with indignation that nothing went forward at all in the case. They were stuck until Mel gave them something else to work with. Vinnie got the impression that something big was coming down the pike, with the way Mel kept repeating his Malthusian mantra every five minutes, but for now they had to sit tight. Roger told him Mel only threw parties like this when he wanted people distracted from what he was really doing.

"And what's he really doing?" asked Vinnie.

"You gotta ask him that, sweetheart," said Roger. "You're on Play Room duty again."

Vinnie groaned.

"Cheer up, Vinnie. It's either that or search the boat top to bottom for a non-existent bomb."

"A bomb? You gotta be kidding me."

"Yeah, he thinks there might be a bomb on board." Roger's flippant tone told Vinnie enough not to take the bomb threat seriously. Good old paranoid Mel.

"He thinks there's a bomb on board, so he throws a party."

"Now you're getting it!" With a laugh and a smirk, Roger left Vinnie alone to baby-sit the masses of coked-out drunk half-naked playboys and playgirls all night long. Wonderful.

Vinnie yawned, exhausted. A girl he recognized from previous parties came up to him. "Tired, Vinnie?" She played with the lapels of his suit jacket.

"Ah, no?" Vinnie tried to recall her name.

"Pamela," she offered helpfully, rubbing up against him, her lacquered fingernail tracing his lips.

"Pamela, right." He tried to disengage himself, but she pulled on his tie and caught him in a kiss. Instinctively, Vinnie kissed her back, opening his mouth. He could only say no so many times and there was nothing wrong with kissing. Or at least he could kid himself there wasn't, anyway. He tried to pull back when he felt something pass from Pamela's mouth into his, but she clung to him and pushed whatever it was further into his mouth, making him swallow before letting him go.

"What was that?" he asked, wiping his mouth.

"Just something to give you some energy, gorgeous. Nothing to worry about," she said with a smile and wink, grabbing his ass playfully before twirling and walking away.

Vinnie shook his head to clear it. Great, just what he needed.

It took a while for him to feel anything, long enough for him to believe nothing would happen and Pamela had passed him something harmless, until he started to feel warm, and his heart raced in his chest. He loosened his tie, looking around for something to drink.

"Just breathe through it, lover." Vinnie looked down to find Pamela taking his hands and leading him to the center of the room.

"Wait, no, I can't do this." He tried pulling away.

"Sure you can. Hey Mel, can Vinnie come out and play?"

Oh no. Vinnie looked over and realized he'd somehow missed Mel entering the room. Mel sat on one of the armchairs, sitting like a sultan with his harem, three different women draped all over him. Vinnie's vision blurred and all the colors of the room started vibrating and pulsing. His head throbbed and Vinnie shook it again, trying to focus.

"Vinnie," said Mel, a knowing smile on his face, kissing one of the woman's hands, trailing up her arm with his lips. "Part of your job is to make sure every one is having a good time, Vinnie."

"Right, anything I can get you, Pamela?" asked Vinnie, stumbling as he backed away.

Pamela giggled. "How 'bout yourself with a big red bow." She giggled again and Vinnie felt someone behind him take his suit jacket off. Another pair of hands started unbuttoning his shirt and removing his tie, like a swarm, attacking him from all angles. Vinnie had trouble focusing, lost in a sea of sensations. Pamela kissed him, followed by someone else and then someone else again. A man kissed him and Vinnie pulled back sharply, anger making the colors jump and zigzag across his vision. The women laughed and pushed him on his back, pinning him down.

He couldn't breathe through the fog of arms and legs, breasts and wet, hot pussy and hard cocks. He felt hands start to open his trousers and he kicked, yelling for everyone to get off him, panic ripping through his body. Hands were at his hips, pushing his pants down. A memory flashed before him and he jerked and thrashed, desperate to get out.

He opened his mouth to yell, but found himself yanked free from underneath the sea of bodies, suddenly released from the prison of limbs, and dragged from the room. Dumped unceremoniously against the bulkhead, Vinnie fell to the floor, rolling on his back, breathing in gulps of fresh air. The cool night cleared his head and he struggled to rise. Rough hands underneath his armpits hauled him up.

"Can't leave you alone for a minute, can I?"

"Rog?" Vinnie pulled free and stumbled, the swaying of the boat not helping.

"Easy, easy. Got caught in the snake pit, huh Vince?" Roger put his hands on Vinnie, attempting to steer him away from the side of the boat.

Vinnie flinched, shaking Roger off. "Don't touch me. I'm okay. I'm okay. Just... Fuck." He turned away, struggling to stand without falling, to pull back from the edge of violence, feeling adrenaline coursing through his body. He pulled his pants up, trying to stop from shaking.

Roger stood back, hands up in the air. "Okay, Vinnie," he said, his voice quiet. Vinnie could feel Roger watching him, and he looked up briefly into knowing eyes.  Roger cocked his head to one side. "Do you know what they gave you?"

Vinnie put his hands over his face, pressing them into his head. "I don't know. Pamela. She kissed me and passed me something and I swallowed. I couldn't help it."

Roger nodded. "Okay, it's probably just some angel dust, maybe mixed with something else, nothing that bad. It's fine. Why don't we go to my cabin, here, on the boat? It'll be quiet there. You'll be left alone."

Vinnie thought, his heart racing, the sweat on his body drying in the night air. He looked at Roger, looked into his eyes and thought, okay. Yeah, okay, he could go with Roger.

"Mel--" Vinnie started to ask, unsure.

"Won't even know you're gone. Trust me."

Vinnie thought for a moment. "Okay," he said.

They walked, Roger occasionally reaching a hand out and guiding Vinnie. Vinnie found that that was fine. Inside Roger's cabin, it was dark and quiet. Vinnie lay down on the bed. Roger filled a glass with water and put it on the bedside table, turning to leave. "I'll be right outside."

"Wait," said Vinnie, panic rising at the thought of being left alone. The moment stretched until Roger finally moved away from the door, pulling a chair up next to the bed.

"Talk to me," said Vinnie. "Talk to me like that night, in Tennessee." He swallowed, knowing what he was really asking.

More silence. "Are you sure, Vince?" asked Roger with his soft voice.

"No."

There was enough light coming in through the portholes that he could make out the shape of Roger sitting in the chair next to him, but Vinnie couldn't see his face. He tried to count the beats of his heart, but they were too fast. "Rog?"

Roger stood, taking his jacket off. His shirt followed and Vinnie felt a spike of lust shoot through his body and down his cock. Roger walked around to the other side of the bed.

They didn't kiss and that was fine with Vinnie. He'd had enough of that for one night. Vinnie moved onto his side, and Roger lay down next to him, their chests touching. Roger's warmth flowed over Vinnie's cool skin.

Roger opened Vinnie's pants, reaching in and taking his hard cock out. Vinnie gasped, dropping his head onto Roger's shoulder, opening his mouth and tasting Roger's skin. He bucked into Roger's hands. Struggling, he managed to push Roger's jeans down.

Roger hissed, pushing into Vinnie's hand. Fast and furious, they worked each other's cocks, hard. Vinnie pulled Roger against him, desperate, holding on as tension built, threatening to steal all the air in his lungs.

He realized that Roger was talking, mumbling in Vietnamese, and Vinnie hardened even more, crying out softly, coming in a blinding rush. Roger waited until he was done, then gripped Vinnie's hand tight over his cock. He thrust violently into Vinnie's fist until he finished, spilling over Vinnie's stomach and hand.

Vinnie breathed deep, trying to calm his heart. He kept his eyes closed, but slowly let go of Roger and removed his hand. He could feel Roger move and disengage himself as well, but he didn't leave the bed and Vinnie relaxed. He could still feel the drugs in his system, but the effect lessened, and he felt oddly safe. He drifted off, falling into oblivion.


~~~~


Morning felt too bright when Vinnie made his way across the boat. He had awoken alone, every inch of his body tense and sore, grimacing when he saw the mess on his stomach. For a moment he let himself fall back into bed, perfectly willing to avoid the day, but then he made himself get up. 

Entering the main cabin, Vinnie paused when he saw Roger sitting at the bar, drinking coffee. Roger flicked his gaze over Vinnie, up and down, before returning to his beverage. An amused look passed across Roger's face before his usual cynical facade fell into place. Vinnie poured himself a cup of coffee and opened his mouth to speak, but was saved by Susan's arrival.

"Vinnie," she said, moving towards him. She came close, resting her arm on his shoulder. He could feel the curve of her breast press against his side.

"Um, hi," he said, hoping he didn't sound as flustered as he felt. He smiled at her.

"I'm glad you're both here." She looked from Vinnie to Roger. "Mel will be up shortly. He has a favor to ask you both." She turned her full attention to Vinnie. "Mel mentioned you had some fun last night. Did you like it?"

"Ah..." Vinnie shifted in his stool, finding the idea that Susan or Mel knew he'd spent the night in Roger's room deeply disturbing on more than one level.

"Pamela's a pretty girl," Susan said, the layers of her meaning suddenly evident.

Relaxing a little bit, Vinnie couldn't help a quick look at Roger, who didn't show anything on his face beyond mild amusement at Vinnie's predicament. He moved so that he was more open to Susan, breathing in her perfume that never failed to excite him. "Well, she is, but--"

"Where's Susan?"

The unmistakable voice of Mel Profitt pulled Susan from Vinnie's side moments before Mel walked into the cabin.

"In here, Mel," she called, moving to stand between Roger and Vinnie.

 Mel's quick eyes assessed the room's occupants, walking over to give his sister a kiss. "Good morning, gentlemen." Mel smiled at Vinnie, slapping him on the back. "None the worse for wear, I see."

Mel's gaze jumped back and forth between Susan and Vinnie, making the back of his neck crawl. Susan moved to capture her brother's attention.

"I was just beginning to tell them about Sergio," Susan said, adjusting Mel's tie. 

Vinnie looked at Roger for a clue, but Roger gave no sign that he knew who Sergio was.

"Yes, Sergio. Roger, take Vinnie and introduce him to our good friend. See if Sergio has anything new for us."

"Anything else?" asked Roger, clearly not overjoyed with the assignment. Vinnie tried to read what he could from everybody's body language. Sergio sounded like just another drug connection. This should make McPike happier.

"That's it." Mel took Susan's hand and walked towards the deck of the boat. "Meet us at the hotel later. I'm having the boat cleaned today," Mel said, not looking at Vinnie or Roger as he exited the room.

Left alone, Roger and Vinnie said nothing for a moment, till Roger stood up and shrugged into his jacket. "Come on."

"Roger--" started Vinnie, but Roger cut him off.

"Forget it, Vince. If you know what's best, you know it never happened. You're playing with enough fire as it is."

Vinnie watched Roger search for his sunglasses and put them on, looking very much like he did when Vinnie first met him. Vinnie's instinct was to protest, to say it may not have been smart, but it happened, you can't just erase it, but he also knew Roger was right. It was better for both of them if it had never happened.

"Are you going to sit there all day, Mary Sunshine, or are you coming with? Sometime before the second coming, please," said Roger, with exaggerated exasperation. "I'd rather get this over quickly."

"Okay, okay," Vinnie said, grabbing his jacket and downing the rest of his lukewarm coffee. He followed Roger into the bright sunshine. "So, who's this Sergio?"


~~~~


Vinnie lifted the gate with a rattle, walking into Roger's loft. Through a shower of sparks, Vinnie spotted Roger welding one of his crazy art sculptures. Vinnie looked down and found Roger's housekeeper at his elbow offering a warm towel. Used to her appearing out of nowhere like that, Vinnie took the towel with a little nod of his head by way of a thank you.

The screeching of metal stopped. Roger stepped away from the sculpture, removing his goggles and gloves. "Vinnie," he said, acknowledging Vinnie's presence.

"I thought you'd like to know, Jacqueline left. She's on her way back to New York." Vinnie saw that the bowl of ball bearings was still on the table. He picked one up. "What are you doing with these anyway?"

"Ornamentation, obviously. So sweet little Jacqueline is gone, huh? Lost your playmate, did you?"

"It was never like that. Where'd you learn to throw these things like that?" Vinnie asked, looking over at the scatter of holes on the wall where Jacqueline had stood.

"Oh that's right, wouldn't want to give sister Susan anything to worry her pretty head about."

"Rog," Vinnie warned. He was used to getting the brunt of Roger's snide comments, but he usually stayed away from mentioning Susan.

"Here, throw it." Roger handed Vinnie a handful of the small metal balls. Vinnie let Roger push and direct him to stand in front of the white wall. "Throw it quick."

Vinnie did as he was told, throwing the metal ball as if it were a baseball. The ball sailed across the room, invisible, imbedding itself into the wall with a loud crack. He'd done it, but with no precision.

"You gotta keep your arm in a little bit more, and flick your wrist. Yeah, like that. It's all in the wrist. Do it again." Roger moved Vinnie's arms and adjusted his position. "You're not on the pitching mound, Vinnie. You have to relax."

Vinnie threw another one of the metal balls, and then again, his aim slightly better even with that small amount of practice. He grinned at Roger, making a 'so so' gesture with his hands and threw another one.

"That's it, you're getting it," Roger said. He called out something in Vietnamese to his housekeeper. She appeared out of nowhere again and walked over to the white wall, standing perfectly still and straight, facing them.

Vinnie grew concerned. "No way, Roger." He dropped the rest of the balls back into the bowl.

"Come on, you can do it," said Roger, not letting Vinnie walk away.

"No," repeated Vinnie, pulling free. "You're out of your fucking mind. No way."

"Afraid, Vinnie?" Roger picked up one of the bearings and threw it. It landed just to the side of the housekeeper's right elbow. He threw another next to her arm, and another between shoulder and ear, and another, and another, all along the outline of her body.

"Roger, stop it! I get it, I get it already. Just stop." Vinnie didn't know what bothered him more, the cold, distant expression on Roger's face, or the fact that the housekeeper remained perfectly calm and placid, with a small smile on her face.

Vinnie grabbed Roger's throwing arm. Roger looked at Vinnie's hand, then at Vinnie. "Don't fucking grab me like that." Roger clamped his hand over Vinnie's wrist, yanking at Vinnie's arm. With one smooth move, Roger had Vinnie pinned against the wall, his arm twisted around his back, his other hand squeezing Vinnie's throat.

Roger slammed Vinnie against the wall again, and Vinnie's cheeks flamed when he felt his cock harden. With a sick feeling in his stomach, Vinnie saw realization cross Roger's face, a knowing smile on his lips. Roger ground against Vinnie again, squeezing his throat even more. Vinnie didn't let himself break eye contact despite the sweat tricking down his back. He could almost feel Roger's eyes scrape across his skin.

"I'm not sure you do get it." Roger bent Vinnie's arm almost to the breaking point, pressing against Vinnie.  Vinnie grimaced, but then head-butted Roger, twisting free. With his good arm, he punched Roger in the jaw. Roger staggered back, nearly falling.

"Happy now?" asked Vinnie, angry. He shook out his hand and rolled his shoulder, testing to make sure it was okay.

Roger started laughing, moving his jaw back and forth, licking the blood on his lip where it split. "Never would have figured you for the 'eat me beat me' type."

"Roger --" Vinnie grasped for words, struggling to make sense of the jumble of emotions running through his head.

"Relax, Vinnie." Roger shook his head, still chuckling. "No need to start bringing me flowers. Just let it go. It doesn't mean anything. You should know that by now."

Vinnie frowned but let out a deep breath and turned to leave, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of cowardice prickling across his shoulders.

"Vince."

Vinnie stopped, reluctantly turning back to Roger. "Yeah?"

"I never would have let you hurt her." Roger gave his trademark smirk, returning to his gear, putting on the gloves and goggles. "You got a hell of a punch. I'll give you that much."

Roger turned his back to Vinnie and the shower of sparks returned.

Vinnie walked to the elevator. Before he could lower the gate, the housekeeper appeared, bowing goodbye to him. He nodded quickly and lowered the gate, collapsing against the back wall, adrenaline draining slowly from his body.


~~~~


"Vince."

Vinnie's shoulder's tightened. He stopped in the hallway and turned around, schooling his face to show indifference. He needed to get out and call the lifeguard. 

"Where ya going?" asked Roger, walking up to Vinnie, eyes hard and flinty. Vinnie continued down the hallway, reaching the elevator. He punched the down button.

"Out," said Vinnie, feeling Roger's suspicion like pin pricks on his skin.

"Going to meet up with your... what did you call them? Your guys?" Roger crowded in on Vinnie's space, coming close enough for Vinnie to smell his aftershave and the scent of his shampoo.

Vinnie looked down at him. "You got a problem?"

"I don't know, you tell me." Roger moved to stand in front of Vinnie, blocking his way.

"Mind your own business," he said, his tone bored and unruffled.

"See, that's the thing." Roger put his hands together, his fingers resting briefly on his lips. "If you think I'm going to let you ruin everything, we," Roger touched both their chests, "have a problem."

Vinnie narrowed his eyes, trying to see past the riddle of Roger Lococco, realizing this went beyond working for Mel Profitt. "I don't want your job, Roger."

"I don't care about my job, Vinnie." Roger mocked Vinnie's tone.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Mel called from the suite, "Roger, get in here. I need to talk to you. Now."

Vinnie felt locked in place and neither he nor Roger moved from their silent battle. Vinnie's mind raced, trying to piece together the picture he could almost see. The elevator dinged again, the doors starting to close.

The moment broke and Vinnie reached with one hand, holding the doors open. He moved past but Roger stopped him with one hand on his chest.

"Roger! Get in here." Mel's voice ripped through the heavy quiet in the hallway.

Roger glanced down to the suite and then back at Vinnie, moving in close enough for Vinnie to feel his body heat. Vinnie stilled, his skin prickling, standing firm against the pull of Roger's presence at his center.

Roger lifted his chin, sniffing. "I can smell her on you, Vinnie," he said, an unreadable gleam in his eyes. "If I were you, I'd be careful. Mel is more than just the jealous type. And Susan, well, she seems to have figured out your price."

Vinnie clenched his jaw.

Roger moved away slowly, not breaking eye contact until he walked back down the hallway. "See ya, Vinnie."

Vinnie waited until Roger went back into the room before letting his breath out, unaware he'd been holding it in. Just keeps getting better and better, he thought, finally getting on the elevator, the taste of Susan's perfume at the back of his throat.


~~~~


Vinnie could hear the steady beep, beep, beep of a machine parsing out the seconds. Like a lifeline, Vinnie followed the sound back up into consciousness.

He felt heavy, unable to lift his head or his body, or even his hands. Couldn't open his eyes, it took too much effort. Sounds were foggy and distant, muffled. He tried to swallow. Unable to concentrate, he could hear someone speaking, but he couldn't figure out who it was, couldn't hear the words.

"I don't know who you are, Vinnie," said a soft voice next to him. "There's something I'm missing, something I can't put my finger on. Pieces of the picture. I must be getting blind in my old age. It won't be long, now, though. I'll figure you out yet. Figure out how you got Susan and Mel all worked up over you. How did you become the important one?" The voice paused. "My gut tells me one thing, my eyes something else. Who wants to kill you, Vinnie? Believe me, part of me understands the inclination," the voice shifted with sarcasm, "and until I see where all the pieces fit, I'm keeping you in my sights. That's a promise."

Vinnie felt someone touch him, a hand on his forehead, brushing his hair aside, neither gentle nor rough. The touch lingered for a moment, falling against his cheek, before disappearing. Vinnie wanted to move towards that touch, to find it again, but invisible restraints kept him still.

Vinnie felt consciousness slipping, the pull of sleep too strong to resist. He was tired, so very tired, and there was an ache in his chest that pushed him down. The soft cadence of the voice faded and he fell into darkness, feeling a peculiar sense of unease.


~~~~


Vinnie slammed his hand down on the table and stormed out of his mother's home. 

They almost got her, they almost got his mom, the one person he truly cared about. A few seconds later and he would have lost her, his worst nightmare come true. He stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. Roger was waiting by his car.

"You're still here?" Vinnie asked.

"Yeah," said Roger, as if asking why he wouldn't still be there. "Everything okay?"

"No." He kicked a trashcan on the corner, watching it roll onto its side, garbage spilling out. Roger eyed him carefully, which just served to make Vinnie angrier.

"Something you want, Roger?" Vinnie wasn't in the mood for Roger's particular brand of cynicism and distrust.

Roger shrugged a 'no'.

Vinnie stared angrily at the car door, aware of Roger's presence next to him. With the familiar sight of Brooklyn around him, he felt such a wave of homesickness he almost doubled over. He was back in his hometown and yet felt further away from home than he ever had.

It felt like a single thread held Vinnie's whole world together and it could snap at any moment. God, he hated this. This was it. He'd see this through, see Mel and Susan (God help him) brought down and brought to justice, and then that's it. Then he'd be done. He'd leave the game.

They stood silently, side by side. Vinnie turned suddenly to Roger. "That was you, today, wasn't it? That shot those men when the plane never made it?" For an answer Vinnie received one of Roger's patented stares. "Roger?"

Roger moved towards the driver-side door. Vinnie stopped him, grabbing his arm. Lightning quick, Roger twisted out of Vinnie's grip, but held on to Vinnie's arm. Vinnie felt Roger's grip, fingers digging into his flesh.

"I told you," said Roger in his quiet voice, "I'm here covering your butt. Someone had to make sure you didn't get killed. Good thing, too."

Roger let go of Vinnie and tried to move past. Vinnie blocked him with his body, not breaking eye contact. The hostility that Roger kept wrapped around him like a blanket was gone. Vinnie could see a change. Something around Roger's eyes, the way he looked at Vinnie. He could almost feel a reversal in their positions. He stepped into Roger's space, feeling Roger pull away.

"Did you know the plane would never make it to New York?" Vinnie watched Roger's eyes, searching for clues and answers to unformed questions. "Did you, Roger?"

Breathing in slow, Roger answered carefully. "It seemed likely. Things haven't exactly been going Mel's way lately."

Vinnie dropped his eyes, suddenly exhausted. He turned from Roger without moving away, his mind fighting against instinct. Tension knotted his back and pounded behind his temples.

Roger touched his arm, a gentle push towards the car. "She's okay, Vinnie. You got to her in time. Come on, let's go."

Vinnie felt drained of all will power. For that moment, he wanted nothing more than to give in and let go, to fall into the gravity that pulled him in. Roger's still presence called to him, a memory of security. But, he lacked trust, or perhaps it was faith, the yawning chasm of uncertainty and mystery that defined his every day.

They stood by the car, close but not touching. Finally, Vinnie sighed and entered the car, slamming the door shut. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. After a moment, he heard Roger's door open and felt the weight of the car shift. There was a pause before the engine started and they drove away.

~~~~


Roger Lococco was an agent of the CIA. CIA Agent, Roger Lococco. Undercover CIA Operative, Roger Lococco. Over and over again the truth intruded into Vinnie's thoughts, shaking his understanding, tripping over his awareness. He'd be damned if it didn't make a lot of sense, though. Vinnie could see the picture within the picture now, or most of it, anyway. The important part, the Roger part.

Vinnie watched Susan arrange the pillows and stuffed animals in the baby crib, her empty expression haunting and beautiful.

Why did Susan kill Mel? Every part of his body told him that wasn't possible. Why would she do that? Why kill the most important thing in your life? Even as he thought it, he realized how sick that was. He'd been with Mel and Susan for so long he didn't even flinch at the thought of them together. Not even sharing what he had with Susan, not even knowing she might have been pregnant with Vinnie's kid. Not even now, after everything, when men in white coats were coming to take her away. She would always be beautiful.

"Look, Vinnie. Isn't this perfect?" Susan's big eyes looked at him, vacant.

He nodded, forcing himself to speak. "Yes."

"I can't wait to move into our house," she said, in her dreamy voice. "I started thinking of baby names. Mel, of course, is going to want us to name the baby after him, but I'll just tell him we'll have to think about it."

Vinnie couldn't watch her. He still wasn't sure why she killed Mel, but he knew she had. Roger, he thought. Somehow, Roger was responsible. Roger knew Mel and Susan better than anyone; he knew what buttons to push.

As if Vinnie's thoughts had conjured him up, Roger walked into the room. They stopped and stared, both of them surprised to see the other. Roger eyed Susan quickly, his gaze then returning to Vinnie.

"Hey," said Roger.

"Hey," answered Vinnie.

"Hi Roger," said Susan, not looking up from adjusting the lace. "Have you seen Mel today? I keep missing him."

Vinnie looked from Susan to Roger, seeing a flash of culpability in Roger's eyes. Realization like cold water dripping on his neck shivered down Vinnie's spine.

Before Vinnie could say anything, Roger walked into another room. Vinnie followed, finding Roger collecting some files.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing that wasn't inevitable," said Roger, finding the file he wanted and heading for the door.

Vinnie moved to block him. "Roger," said Vinnie.

Roger met Vinnie's gaze evenly. "We always seem to play this game, Vince. You, me, dancing around each other."

Vinnie breathed in, but didn't let Roger pass. Vinnie knew all the points of Roger's face. He knew the quick strength of Roger's body, like the coiled snake he resembled. He knew Roger's anger that always simmered and the cynicism he held as a shield. And yet, all these attributes and tells and memories were now altered, stripped, changed. 

Silent accusations and realizations played across their expressions, neither one of them willing to openly acknowledge what they knew about the other. This whole situation had grown beyond Mel and Susan Profitt and Vinnie could only see part way down the road.

"Is she?" asked Roger with something passing for concern in his voice.

"No," said Vinnie, flatly, knowing what Roger meant. "She thinks she is."

Roger nodded, and Vinnie wondered at the relief he saw in Roger's face. Roger moved past Vinnie towards the door.

"Where're you going?"

"Don't ask questions you don't really want answers to, Vinnie," said Roger, turning and walking backwards, giving Vinnie a mock salute before rounding the corner of the hallway and disappearing just as two men exited the elevator.


~~~~


"Vince."

Vinnie stopped when he heard his name, turning around. Roger emerged from the bar, his man following him.

"Wait a minute," asked Roger.

"Make it good," said Vinnie, eyeing Roger's friend. With a glance, Roger told the guy to hang back.

"You're telling the truth, about Preet? About my housekeeper?"

Vinnie nodded, seeing pain behind Roger's eyes. It gave him hope, that Roger could feel remorse. He stepped in close, making Roger look at him. He searched Roger's face, seeking the signs of the man Roger had been, finding the man he was and the man he almost let himself become. "Yeah."

Roger put his hands to his forehead. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Okay, this is what we do--"

Vinnie cut him off. "Before we start making plans and deals, Roger, I want you to know there's no way I'm going to let this happen, you realize? It ends here. I'm not going to let you fall. Do you understand?"

Vinnie could feel Roger's breath against his face, saw the stark realization in his eyes. Roger nodded, leaning in, almost close enough to touch before he took Vinnie by the arm. He signaled for his man to come closer. "Okay, we have some planning to do."


~~~~


Vinnie poured two glasses of scotch. It was just him and Roger left alone in an OCB safehouse in Maryland, with only a couple of guards outside to make sure Roger didn't run. Vinnie had tried to tell McPike Roger wasn't going anywhere. Roger's whole world had crumbled, he could barely sit up straight, but McPike wasn't taking any chances.

"So, you reported to Ketcher, and he reported to--? Who? Who's between Strichen and Ketcher?"

"I don't know," said Roger, quietly, barely acknowledging the glass Vinnie placed at his side.

"You don't know the next in command?" Vinnie sat down in the armchair opposite Roger, taking note of the faraway expression in his eyes.

"C'mon Vince. Succeeding for us depends on compartmentalizing."

"Roger, there's a difference between compartmentalizing and being sealed off. When did
Ketcher isolate you?" Vinnie worried at Roger's uncharacteristic withdrawal. He's in shock. Well, who wouldn't be?

"He didn't isolate me," said Roger, with a little bit more feeling, his hands grasping at nothing. "After Saigon fell, I was running some covert operations and I traveled under alias passports."

"Who did you report to?" prompted Vinnie, trying to steer Roger to reveal anything he could.

"Ketcher," answered Roger, automatically.

Vinnie suppressed a snort of frustration. "Did you ever know who Ketcher answered to?"

Roger took in several ragged breaths. "It's been over ten years."

"You traveled under aliases for over ten years, answered only to Herb Ketcher, and you don't think you've been isolated?" asked Vinnie, bluntly.

Roger closed his eyes briefly. "I hate him," he said, his quiet voice ringed with pain.

"Roger, why was your housekeeper killed?"

The question caused Roger to look at Vinnie, however briefly. Vinnie felt a stab in his gut, watching the emotions churn in Roger's eyes. 

"Preet. She was a Chinese hooker in Quang Tri. Ketcher was using her, sometimes for days. A couple of operations he tried running were ambushed. He blamed her. I was ordered to kill her. I couldn't." Roger paused, as if taking strength to continue. "God, she made me feel so good. I was seventeen and I didn't know you could be touched like that. I couldn't kill her. I couldn't. So Captain Ketcher ordered me to," Roger paused, breathing in sharply, "cut out her tongue." Each word was a stab in the quiet of the room. "I was seventeen," he repeated. "I could never forgive myself, so I took care of her. She took care of me. Preet. Forgive me? Please, forgive me. Forgive me."

Vinnie didn't think he would ever forget the sound of Roger's voice pleading for a dead woman's forgiveness. He could feel Roger's anguish like acid in his stomach, a match for his own remembered regrets.

Roger's voice diminished to a whisper and neither man moved, letting silence settle over them like a cloak.

Vinnie finished his scotch and put the glass down. He rose and took Roger's glass from him. "Come on. That's enough for one night," he said.

Roger barely looked at him, letting Vinnie guide him through the room and up the stairs. Vinnie frowned with concern when Roger stumbled or bumped into walls, not picking up his feet.

Vinnie turned the bedside lamp on in Roger's bedroom and sat him down on his bed. He knelt and took Roger's shoes off, stopping only when he felt Roger clamp his hand over Vinnie's arm. Vinnie looked up, not knowing whether to feel relief at seeing signs of life returning or uneasiness at Roger's grip.

Roger's eyes were shining with unspent tears, but there was an amused light to them now, sharing space with the pain. "Remember what I told you, long ago? Careful what you wish for, Vince. Now you know everything."

"Yeah," said Vinnie. "And I'm still here."

A different gleam chased the pain and the amusement. "Compartmentalizing, Vinnie, the key to sanity."

Vinnie breathed in sharply, fascinated by the flame in Roger's eyes, by the fear and loneliness he saw and also felt in return. Roger pulled Vinnie close, one hand grabbing him by the neck, the other on his waist. Vinnie resisted for the span of one breath before letting go, surprised when Roger merely buried his face in the crook of Vinnie's neck, clutching at Vinnie. "Make me believe," murmured against his skin.

His heart breaking, Vinnie hesitated only from awkwardness before putting his arms around Roger. A silent shudder passed through Roger, and Vinnie tightened his hold before he eased them both onto the bed.

Slowly, their faces turned away from each other, their hands started moving. Vinnie lifted Roger's T-shirt, fingers skimming across skin. He shivered at the answering touch on his back. Lips at his neck, kissing, biting and Vinnie breathed in sharply, moving quicker. Vinnie's dick hardened and he couldn't help but push against Roger, his lips trailing along Roger's collarbone and around to his neck.

They shifted and their lips met, Roger's hands holding Vinnie's head. Vinnie gasped for breath, opening his mouth, taking Roger in. Kissing Roger was like nothing he'd ever felt before, rough and searching. They broke apart, both startled.

Vinnie watched the wild look in Roger's eyes, his skin tingling. Silent communication passed, something agreed to that neither had words for, and Vinnie rose from the bed. He went to the bathroom, amazed at how steady his hands were as he searched for some hand cream or lotion.

The lights were off when he returned, but in the moonlight he could see Roger standing beside the bed removing his shirt and pants. Vinnie's heart raced, but he only paused for a moment before pressing the small bottle he'd found into Roger's palm. Roger took it, his turn to watch silently as Vinnie threw his shirt away and unzipped his jeans.

Certain if he stopped moving, he'd stop entirely, Vinnie didn't let himself think about what he was doing when he crawled into the bed. The cool sheets felt good against his overheated skin.

The bed shifted with Roger's weight. Vinnie shivered when Roger first touched him, moving and parting his legs, skin on skin. Vinnie could just make out Roger's features, blond head and pale skin lit on only one side. Roger's hands slid up the inside of Vinnie's legs and he gasped as they brushed against his semi-hard cock. 

"You ever done this before?" Roger's quiet voice melted into the darkness.

"Never willingly," said Vinnie, unable to disguise the uncertainty in his voice.

Roger paused, his hands stilling on Vinnie's skin. Vinnie's heart pounded. He hadn't intended to be quite that honest and he bit his lip, not knowing what he really wanted. Then Roger dragged his palm over Vinnie's belly and Vinnie let out a breath, closing his eyes. Roger's hands traveled all the way up to his chest. Vinnie opened his eyes and found Roger watching him.

"Always full of surprises, huh Vince?" asked Roger, that amused gleam in his eye returning. Roger touched Vinnie's face and Vinnie lifted his head, pulling Roger into a kiss. Desperately he took as much of Roger as he could. Roger matched him move for move and their lips and tongues sought each other in a fierce battle of supplication and desire. Roger's lips dragged down Vinnie's throat to his chest, tongue flicking a nipple, lips resting on the gunshot wound. Vinnie tightened his grip, his own fingers seeking the mirrored scar on Roger's chest.

Roger rubbed against Vinnie, reaching between to take hold of their cocks together, grunting into Vinnie's mouth. Hands and fingers scraped across Vinnie's skin, twisting his nipples, making him arch his back and buck against the hardness of Roger's stomach.

Vinnie parted his legs further and inhaled sharply when he felt Roger touch him, both rough and gentle. Cool fingers, slick with lotion, pressed into him and he bit Roger's shoulder to keep from crying out.

"Easy," said Roger, pushing in another finger, watching Vinnie with hooded eyes. Vinnie swallowed and nodded his head.

Roger captured Vinnie's mouth again, pushing his tongue inside at the same time as he removed his fingers and pushed his cock into Vinnie, letting his weight carry him forward. Vinnie closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Roger's, concentrating on the sensation of being opened, gasping more in surprise at the pleasure than at the pain. Roger went slowly, easing in, eager to swallow Vinnie's moans and small cries.

"Ready?" asked Roger, resting his weight on his arms, his voice strained, body vibrating with tension.

Vinnie nodded, his heart pounding. He felt Roger withdraw slowly, and then push in. "Oh, God," he said, his hips rising to meet Roger's thrust, his head falling back. Sparks of pain and pleasure traveling up his body, he gasped as Roger eased out and back in again. And again, steady, easy movements, and he lost all awareness outside of the drugged pleasure pooling in his blood.

He reached for Roger, pulling him down into another kiss, opening his mouth as wide as his body. Roger faltered in his rhythm for a moment, picking it up again, faster. Vinnie clutched as the pleasure and pain became too great, shooting jolts with each thrust, each slide in and out. He cried out, pulsing against Roger.

Roger waited for Vinnie before lifting Vinnie's legs from underneath the knee, shifting his position. With quick, hard movements, Roger finished with unsteady jerks, grunting with each release.

He collapsed on top of Vinnie. After a moment, Roger eased onto his back and they lay side by side, neither speaking.

Vinnie moved to get up, but Roger stopped him with a hand on his back. "Don't go."

"But--"

"Please. Just for a moment."

Vinnie swallowed and nodded. Roger turned onto his side and Vinnie lined his body up next to him. He moved close, until he touched Roger at all points of his body. Roger sighed and relaxed against Vinnie. Vinnie let his lips rest against Roger's shoulder and his arm across Roger's chest and stomach, staying still and not moving until he felt Roger's breath even out and knew he had finally fallen asleep.


~~~~


Only Vinnie knew Roger well enough to suspect his death was staged. His gut told him Roger still lived, and he had to listen to it despite the dread he felt. When he saw Roger standing across the street, gone in a flash, Vinnie held his breath and looked for a ghost, wondering if he'd dreamed it up, afraid it was only some twisted desire on his part to change the past. He knew better than most that you couldn't alter past decisions any more than you could change the color of the sky.

The flash of a blond head turned a corner down an alleyway. Vinnie followed only to come up empty again, finding nothing but a closed door. Vinnie went through the door and looked around the empty basement.

"Good morning, Buckwheat."

Vinnie spun around, a smile breaking across his face.

"Surprised to see me?" asked Roger with an answering smile.

"No," Vinnie answered, still smiling.

"Sorry about the little show. You played your part perfectly, by the way. Knew I could count on you."

"Glad to be of help," said Vinnie wryly. "You could have told me."

Roger shrugged. "I'm telling you now, aren't I?"

"Yeah, I guess." Vinnie felt the moment slip into awkwardness. "You're good?"

Roger nodded. "I gotta go. New horizons and all that."

Vinnie laughed and then nodded. Neither moved away and Vinnie found himself pulling Roger into his arms, hugging him close. Roger turned his face into Vinnie's neck.

"How will I--" asked Vinnie.

"You'll know," said Roger, pulling away.

Vinnie closed his eyes and when he opened them he was alone with only a soft "Good-bye, Vinnie," lingering in the air for company.

Despite everything, all the near disasters, the horrors, fears and deaths, he felt the band around his chest he hadn't even known existed, snap and break away. He would always carry ghosts around, but at least that night he might be able to sleep and feel no regrets.


~~~~


the end.

*He laughs best who laughs last.

 


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