by Nicole S
He couldn't believe Stan was dead. Shot, right in front of him, dying on
hiscouch. Tears sprang to his eyes as he remembered how, even though his
friendbetrayed him, he was willing to help him. Vic breathed in and out
sharplythen blinked the tears away. Yep, Vic Mansfield, sucker. Just as
Stansaid.
Vic flicked on the lights. A solitary queen size bed was pushed back
againstthe middle of one wall, table, chair, television and chest of drawers
were theonly other furniture in the room. These chain hotels were all the same,
youknew what you were getting. He locked, bolted and chained the door
beforesitting on the bed. The tears were still there, ready to fall with one
blink.He took another breath, and his shoulders sagged.
A shudder ran through his body as he the events of the night ran through
hismind for the millionth time. McDowell making him drag Stan's dead body
downto the car then... Vic closed his eyes and a single tear dropped from his
heavylashes. Then they just left him there like a piece of meat while they
kickedhis ass in O'Grady's bar.
Thank god Mac and LiAnn got there when they did. He would be dead by now
ifthey had arrived a few minutes late.
All he ever wanted to do was to be a cop. He didn't want to get into
politicsor the bullshit those guys were into. He just wanted to put the bad
guys injail... His thoughts were interrupted by his cell phone ringing.
"Yeah?" Vic barely spoke into the phone.
"Vic?" It was Mac.
Vic squared his shoulders and sat up straight. A small smile started to
format the corner of his mouth upon hearing his partner's voice.
"Yeah."
"I... I just called to see... I called your apartment, and there was no
answer."
"I'm at a hotel."
"Oh?"
"The decontamination crew is still there, cleaning up."
"Oh." There was silence on both ends for a moment before Mac spoke
again."Vic, is everything... are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Because, you know, if you want, I could come there, or you could come
here,or we could... "
"Thanks, Mac, but I think I just want to get some sleep. It's been a
longday." Vic knew it was a lie, he wanted his partner here with him, very
much.
"Yeah, sure, I just wanted... " Mac drifted off.
"Thanks."
"Okay. I'll see you later, Vic."
"Bye, Mac." He pressed end on the phone, let his breath out and closed
hiseyes. He could still feel Mac's fingers on his shoulder from the bar.
Mac'sfingers closing on his shoulder, squeezing the flesh, Vic's hand running
up tojoin it for mere seconds before pulling away. His cock jumped at the
thought.
"Mac, if you only knew."
Victor started undressing; if there was one thing he needed, it was a
long,hot shower.
Mac was such a royal pain in the ass when he first met him, didn't trust
himas far as he could throw him. Cocky, arrogant, irresponsible, full of
energy,like a colt that needed to be broken. Vic smirked, the Director had seen
tothat, hadn't she?
Vic removed his holster and placed it on the bed. He checked both guns
-loaded and ready to go—before he started to remove his boots and jeans.
He eventually learned to trust Mac, and his feelings grew from there.
Theyhad been through so much together. He couldn't let his feelings show to
theformer thief. Vic never let his feelings show, never mind coming out
andactually saying what he felt. Even with LiAnn, he always let her make
thefirst move. It would have never worked with LiAnn, he would have gone back
tomen sooner or later.
He closed his eyes again and remembered the hand on his shoulder once
more.That hand was so strong. He wished Mac would have pulled him up and into
hisarms. His cock was starting to harden as he imagined Mac peppering his
facewith kisses, making the pain go away.
His eyes snapped open. It would never happen, not as long as Mac didn't
know.And if he did know, what would he do? Would Mac push him away or welcome
himwith open arms? Vic stood and strode into the bathroom, not wanting
toanalyze it further. He hung his holster on the hook bolted to the back of
thedoor.
"Why can't I just tell him?" Vic said to his reflection in the mirror.
Hestill had the cut over his eye from the pavement when the car hit him.
Hesighed then took off his dirty, torn t-shirt. Large purple bruises greetedhis
eyes, they were everywhere, all over his body.
"Mansfield, you look like shit," he said to himself.
The stitches in his side, from getting shot the other day, were still
coveredby the bandage. The doctor said not to get them wet, but he really
needed ashower. If he was careful, it would be okay.
Vic turned the water on, waiting for it to grow hot before removing
hisunderwear, careful of his half erection, and got into the shower. The
hot,steamy water ran over his body, soothing the battered, worn muscles.
Quickly, he washed his hair from the small bottle the hotel provided. He
letthe water rinse over him for awhile, running down his face, dripping off
ofhis long lashes.
"Mac, I want to tell you, but I can't. I just can't."
Vic grabbed the soap and started running it down his body. If they
wereonly Mac's hands. He closed his eyes as he imagined the young man in
theshower with him. So tall, his legs so long. The hairs that covered his
chestand belly were dark and thick. Mac's full lips would be sweet and soft
asthey pressed against his own, across his chest, down his body, to his cock.He
sucked in his breath as he imagined the dark head bobbing at his crotch.
Vic sighed as he ran the soap up, over his chest, lingering at a
nipple,pulling at it. His cock stood to attention as he imagined his
partnercaressing him, feeling him, pressing up against him. Mac's cock was
probablylike the rest of him, long and lean. Vic ran the soap down to his own
cock,his was thick and dark, the precum washing away in the spray from the
shower.He put the bar of soap in the holder attached to the tile.
"I need you, Mac, I need you here." He barely whispered.
Pulling gently on his cock, Vic put his arm on the steamy tile in the
tubenclosure, then rested his forehead on his arm.
"Mac. I want you, Mac."
His hand started to move quickly across his cock. Vic closed his eyes
andthought of Mac's body, how much he wanted it, wanted him. He pulled harder
athis cock, his thumb massaging that special spot under the head. Vic's
breathgrew rougher and ragged as he stroked harder and faster. The water ran
downhis muscular back and down his ass, along and in between his cheeks. Now
andthen a stream would run across his opening, making him want the other man
moreand more.
"Mac," he whispered as he felt his balls tighten.
A moan escaped his lips as he spent himself against the tile,
caressinghimself until he was too sensitive to take it anymore. He stood under
thespray for another five minutes before getting out of the shower.
Towelingoff, he avoided his own reflection in the mirror and left quickly,
taking hisholster with him.
Naked, he entered the bedroom, placing one gun under the mattress and
anotherunder his pillow. Only then, did he flop into bed. Vic lay there, trying
towill himself to sleep that wouldn't come. He kept reliving the events
oftonight in his mind, they wouldn't go away. Tears sprang to his eyes as
hereached for his cock again. He stroked himself quickly and with
purpose,quietly bringing himself to orgasm.
Lying there, breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face, he ached to
beheld by someone, by Mac. He cleaned himself up and rolled over to his
side,eventually falling into a fitful sleep, dreaming of what could have been.
ictor Mansfield was tired, it had been a rough day. He put the key in
thelock of the hotel room door and turned the knob. The door swung open. He
wasgreeted by the familiar hotel air—stale and smelling of disinfectant,
otherpeople and cigarettes. He couldn't go home just yet, the decontamination
crewwas still in there, cleaning up the blood, replacing the soiled
furniture,bringing everything back to its normal state. It would never be
normalthough. Not after what happened tonight.
