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Anniversary
A Drowning Sorrows Side Story
by Lianne Burwell
February 1999
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Mac trudged up the stairs to the fourth floor apartment that he and Vic 
were living in, weary to the bone. It was nearly three in the morning, 
and he was just getting home from his shift as bouncer in one of the 
Paris discos.

They'd been in Paris for nearly two months now, carefully building the 
background for their new identities. They were even moving a faster pace 
than Mac had expected. Vic had found a job with a security firm, and Mac 
had enough bodyguarding jobs that he should be able to quit the bouncer 
job pretty soon. At this rate they should be able to build up enough of a 
reputation to go independent in the security field inside of a year.

And on a night like this, he felt that it couldn't come too soon.

"Hey, Vic!" he called out, opening the apartment door. There was no 
answer. "Vic?"

Mac looked around. The only light he could see was a dim glow from the 
bedroom. Maybe Vic had gone to bed. The gala assignment would have let 
him come home only an hour ago, and he'd said that morning that he would 
wait up for Mac, but perhaps he'd fallen asleep.

"Vic?" Mac walked into the bedroom, then stopped dead in his tracks. 
Suddenly, he wasn't as tired as he'd thought.

The bed had been made with new sheets and a new comforter, all in shades 
of green that made Vic's eyes glow. Nearly every solid surface in the 
room was covered with lit candles. A bottle of wine and two glasses sat 
on the bedside table. And Vic was stretched out on the bed, an inviting 
smile on his handsome face.

Vic was nude. Not naked. A Playgirl pinup was naked. A fine work of art 
was nude.

And Vic was a work of art. No doubt about it.

Ever graceful, the older man rose from the bed and padded over to Mac, 
completely unselfconscious about his lack of clothing. Mac eagerly opened 
his mouth for the heated kiss.

Then Vic pulled away with a grimace. "You stink of cigarette smoke," he 
groused. "Take a shower. But don't dwaddle. I've got plans for you."

The leer on the man's face was all that Mac needed to propel him into the 
bathroom where he kept his shower short, just barely long enough to wash 
the smell from his skin and hair. He stuffed his clothes into a hamper, 
not bothering be careful with them. He grabbed a towel, and headed back 
to the bedroom, his hair still dripping.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, as Vic took the towel from him and 
started drying his hair.

"What, you don't remember? Well, technically speaking, neither do I, but 
still. What happened one year ago?"

Mac searched his memory, then blushed. He had a lousy memory for dates, 
but how could he have forgotten...

"That's right," Vic said in a husky tone. "One year ago tonight, LiAnn 
told me she wanted to put the engagement on hold. I got stinking drunk, 
and when you took me home, I dragged you into my bed."

Mac felt lips brush the back of his neck, then the towel rubbed across 
his hair one last time and was discarded. He quickly turned, and captured 
Vic's mouth in a deep kiss. "How could I have forgotten?" he said with 
real regret. If he'd remembered, he would have bought something for Vic. 
He made a mental note not to forget the following year.

Vic smiled, and brushed a finger across Mac's lips. "Don't worry about 
it, Mac. Still, at the time, I thought it was the worst night of my 
life." He leaned in for another deep kiss. "Pity I don't remember any of 
it."
He leaned over, and grabbed the two wineglasses that he'd obviously 
filled while Mac was in the bathroom. He held one out to Mac, and raised 
his own to toast the younger man.

"Here's to the worst night of my life, which led to the best decision in 
my life."

Mac obediently tapped the rim of his glass against Vic's. "Decision?" he 
asked, sipping at the excellent red wine that Vic had chosen. It was so 
like Vic not to go for the obvious champagne.

"To seduce you, of course." He reached a hand to stroke Mac's cheek. 
"Thank you for letting me."

Mac grinned back at him. "No. Thank *you*," he said, honestly meaning it. 
He'd had some pretty bad experiences in his life, and Vic's patience and 
love had helped him to over come them.

"Still," Vic said, thoughtfully. "You never did tell me what happened 
that night. At least, not in any detail."

Mac shook his head, still grinning. "To be honest, not much."

"Tell me?"

Mac stretched out on the bed, pulling Vic down with him. They propped 
themselves up on the pillows, Mac idly thinking that Vic must have gone 
out and bought extras, because they were piled higher than usual.

"Well, you were pretty damn sloshed by the time I got you home," he said, 
turning onto his side to face Vic, remembering that night. He hadn't been 
terribly sober himself. "You kept going on about LiAnn, and how it was 
my fault. I pointed out that there were other girls out there, and you 
were so cute that you'd find someone else fast."

Vic snorted. "Cute?"

"Cute. You complained about the term then, too. Said it wasn't fair that 
I was handsome and exotic, while you were just cute. Not that there's any 
'just' about it."

Vic smiled. "Handsome and exotic. That describes you, alright." Mac 
quickly squashed the urge to blush.

"Anyway, you started listing all my physical attributes, then insisted 
that I return the favor."

"Hmm?"

"Then you started stalking me."

"Stalking?"

"Yep. Right across the room. Then, when you caught me you did your best 
to harvest my tonsils with your tongue."

Vic smiled brightly then. He took Mac's glass from him, then put both on 
the bedside table. "Like this?" he purred, then proceeded to kiss Mac 
breathless.

When he pulled away, Mac was reeling. "Yeah," he breathed.

"Then..."

"Huh?"

Vic slapped Mac on the side of his ass. "What happened next?"

Mac shook his head, trying to clear it enough to continue. "Well, when I 
was coherent again, you'd somehow managed to get me to the bedroom, 
undressed and into bed. Don't ask me how, because I don't remember. Damn, 
you're a good kisser, Vic."

Vic grinned. "Only when I've got the right inspiration."

That earned him another kiss before Mac went on. "Well, I was a little 
worried about the potential fallout, but you said that since the Director 
liked sexual tension in a team, let's give her *real* sexual tension. 
Give the triangle a third side, so to speak."

"Makes sense to me," Vic said, running his hand up and down Mac's side. 
The hand slipped down, for a moment, to cup Mac's genitals, and he 
completely lost track of what he was saying.

"So, what next?"

"Ummm," Mac hissed, and tried to thrust his hips towards the touch, but 
it disappeared. He groaned in frustration. "Next?"

"After I shot down your argument."

Mac took a deep breath. "Well, you got me so hot and bothered that what 
you said actually seemed to make sense, so I decided to go with it." He 
grinned, suddenly remembering what happened next. He quickly flipped over, 
and pinned Vic under him. "So I decided to check you out. Thoroughly."

And he proceeded to do just that. A year ago, he'd only had his knowledge 
of his own body to go by. Now, he knew every hot spot that his lover had. 
He made sure he hit all of them.

At least twice.

"Then?" Vic gasped, barely coherent, when Mac pulled away.

"Then you pushed on top of me." Vic did just that. "And touched me." Mac 
whimpered at the intensity. "And rubbed yourself all over me," he gasped, 
almost airless.

Abandoning his attempts to talk, he reached around and grabbed Vic's ass-
cheeks, pulling him in tighter. Moaning into Vic's mouth, he thrust up, 
harder and harder.

The tension built, until they were both groaning. Then with a cry, first 
Vic, then Mac exploded, their semen smearing the space between them.

A few minutes later, Vic lifted his head from where it was pillowed on 
Mac's chest. "Then?" he said, and Mac laughed.

"Then you fell asleep, and I thought about calling a cab, but fell asleep 
before I could even move. And I'm sure you remember what the next morning 
was like."

Vic snorted. "The worst hangover I've ever had in my life," he said. "But 
man, was I relaxed." He tilted his head up to meet Mac's lips in a soft 
kiss.

"Thank you for telling me," he said, barely above a whisper. Mac nodded, 
too tired for anything else. "And I promise to remember *this* time. Love 
you."

Mac smiled, drifting into that sweet post-coital haze that hovered 
between sleep and consciousness. "Love you too. Happy anniversary."

"Happy anniversary."


THE END