Suicide Pact

Fandom: Once A Thief

Category/Rated: Rated NC17 for graphic M/M interaction.

Year/Length: ~4880 words

Pairing: Vic/Mac

Disclaimer: John Woo and Alliance own them, but aren't looking after them. Can they be blamed if they sneak out to play?

Warning: No shadowy government agents were put to death during the writing of this story, though some of them may be squirming with embarrassment tomorrow.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Orithain for the title. Thanks to Ori and Nicole for the death threats. Thanks to Frankie, Paula and Orithain for their beta. Without you guys, my tenses all go to hell and commas attack me.

It had been a very bad day.

Sometimes, he thought to himself, there seemed to be absolutely no reason for living. What had he done with his life? He had lost the chance to do the job for which he had lived. Nobody would hire a cop with a criminal record. It didn't matter that he had been set up. There was no turning back. Correction, he thought, nobody would hire a cop with a criminal record except for his present, devious boss.

He thought about her. She was glamorous, that was for sure. She was stylish, elegant, efficient and deadly. She reminded him of a snake, all sinuous motion to hypnotize until the strike that shot the poison into your vein. Then it was all over.

Vic didn't want to attract her attention more than was necessary. He was glad that she appeared to be more fixated on Mac than on him. Mac could handle it, definitely deserved it, and very probably liked it, the pervert!

She was actually reasonably kind once you got past the irritating need to control she seemed to suffer from. He was still not a happy camper. He was aware he was always under surveillance. He could not so much as go to bed without the possibility the Director might be observing him. It kinda made jerking off difficult.

His social life was a total disaster. He had nobody in his life at the moment, and the occasional old friend who turned up to tug at his heartstrings invariably seemed to want to hurt him. He might look tough, but inside he was bleeding. He wanted someone of his own. He wanted someone he could count on, who would be there for him.

He wanted someone who would love him unconditionally, because he was Victor Mansfield, nice guy, not because he was a cop, or pretty, or strong.

He wanted someone with whom he could let his guard down. He wanted someone who would take the trouble to get to know him, and not try to improve him, manipulate him or censure him. He longed for someone with whom he could relax. The only people in his life right now who were even close to knowing him like that, apart from the Director (and God forbid that she should ever start to take a sexual interest in him!) were Li Ann and Mac. He considered Li Ann.

She was beautiful, that was a fact. He had thought that he loved her, although now he wondered whether what he had felt for her was love or merely relief at having someone he could actually talk to about who he was. Surely if he had actually loved her, he would have felt more hurt when she had broken the news to him that they were no longer to be together? He examined the pain it had caused him. It was real, he admitted, but it wasn't severe. When he went to work each day, he didn't waste time pining for what might have been. He merely got on with the job in hand. His feeling for Li Ann was fondness, not passion, and this puzzled him. How could he have believed he wanted to marry her?

His thoughts turned to Mac Ramsey, immaturity personified. He irritated Vic. He made Vic mad enough to lose his temper virtually every time they collided. Vic hated to think it and would not have admitted it for a million dollars, but he trusted Mac. He trusted him more than he had trusted anyone else, ever. The man was a pain in the ass of the worst possible kind, but he always came through in a crisis.

Vic lounged back in his easy chair. The lights were out, and this was principally to make it difficult for the Director to watch him. If she wanted to watch him, she would just have to don her designer night-vision goggles. He was quite sure she would have some (and furthermore that they would bear the Calvin Klein logo,) but he saw no reason to make her voyeuristic preoccupation with his life easier than necessary. Let her work for it!

He was dressed casually as usual in faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He was still wearing his shoulder holster, buckled around his chest. His shoes had been kicked off and left by the door. Vic was essentially a neat man. Mac was the untidy one in the team. Vic was constantly picking up after him. It was just one more thing he had to feel aggrieved about.

The phone rang. Vic ignored it, and after a while, it stopped. He'd brought a bottle of white rum from his kitchen and was systematically drinking the stuff. He didn't much like it but was aware it seemed to taste better each time he took a swig. He considered it medicine and was wondering how much more he needed to ingest to constitute the correct dosage. The phone began to ring again.

Vic glared at the phone with utter loathing and continued to sit, staring at the pictures that unfolded behind his eyes. He didn't want to be at home to anyone tonight. He just wanted to feel sorry for himself. He was getting to be an expert at that.

A banging on the door cut through Vic's silent introspection. Sighing, he carefully replaced the cap on the bottle he held and put it on the floor beside his chair. Struggling out of the chair, he moved, somewhat clumsily to the door, and peered through the peephole to see who had decided to disturb his evening. He could see nobody. Slipping the chain onto the door and pulling his gun, he cautiously opened the door. He still saw nobody. Cursing under his breath, he took the safety chain off and pulled the door a little wider. Mac Ramsey appeared in his field of vision. He was grinning uneasily and appeared a little uncomfortable.

Vic looked him up and down and made to close the door again. Mac gave a yelp, and dove to shove his foot in the way before it shut in his face.

"Go away!" Vic's tone was cold.

"Come on, Vic, let me in." Mac was slowly pushing the door open, and in his half-inebriated state, Vic found there was little he could do about it. Once he decided that he could not stop Mac from getting in, he changed tactics, suddenly moving to one side, allowing Mac's full weight to lean on the door, and causing the taller man to come hurtling in past him. Vic stuck out a foot and deftly tripped him as he flew past. With a complete diatribe of spectacular oaths and imprecations, Mac landed on the floor close to the counter that divided Vic's kitchen from his living area. For a moment, he lay there taking stock of his bruises, whilst Vic enjoyed the first laugh of the whole day. Then, he exploded from the floor to tackle the laughing Vic, driving him back against the wall and knocking all the breath out of him.

The pair of them floundered on the floor, both aiming punches and attempting to hurt the other. As usual, they were practically evenly matched. Vic was chunkier than Mac, but Mac had a much longer reach. It didn't help that Vic had drunk a significant amount of rum. After a lengthy period of grunting and wrestling, including yells of pain and outrage from both parties, the two of them ended up with Vic lying on his back, and Mac sitting astride his chest grinning down at him.

"What the fuck do you want?" Vic's voice, usually husky, was virtually a croak as he gasped for breath. "Why don't you go and bug Li Ann and leave me alone? I don't ask for much, but I'd appreciate it if you could just see your way to clearing out and leaving me alone."

Mac chuckled. "What? Go away and leave you to drink all the rum? Forget that. We're supposed to be partners. That means sharing. I'll go and get a glass. Be right back." Standing, he loped off into Vic's kitchen. Vic could hear him opening doors, presumably searching for a glass. Muttering to himself, he dragged himself up off the floor and went in pursuit of his irritating colleague, hoping to short circuit him before he got into any mischief. A thought hit him and he looked puzzled.

"How did you know there was some rum here?" He removed his precious cut crystal goblet from Mac's curious fingers and hastily substituted a heavy glass tumbler, carefully replacing his treasure in the cupboard and attempting to usher Mac out of the kitchen. Mac had been moving forward reasonably well but now turned to answer Vic. Vic's heart sank, and he pointed imperiously at the exit. Mac grinned, his usual elastic, happy-puppy grin. Vic's felt his irritation growing. He was not in the mood for this. What was he thinking? The day he got in the mood for this would be a cold day in hell!

Once again he indicated the living area. This time Mac turned obediently and left his kitchen. Flinging himself down on the sofa, Mac held out his glass for Vic to fill.

"The Director told me to come over, said that you needed help to finish up some rum." Vic looked outraged, and began staring around, searching for the new bug that he knew must have been planted. One of the penalties of working for a shadowy Government Agency like his was the fact that he had no privacy. At least once a week he found and removed a bug from his apartment. At least once a week it became plain that the Director was still au fait with every action he took. He wondered if he should start to behave really badly and if that would get her off his back.

"I don't need any help. I'm fine. Don't leave the door open when you leave, will you?" Vic returned to his chair and sank into it, picking up his bottle and absently taking a swig from the neck of it.

Mac grinned his silly, disarming smile again, and waved his glass at Vic. "Aww... don't be like that! Here I am, at great personal expense, to cheer you up, and there you are, being a total dork. You just don't appreciate me, and you should!" Vic was starting to grow angry now, and he rose from his chair to stride about, jerky with tension, his usual sinuous stride impaired by the amount of alcohol he had consumed. Mac sat, lounging back, half lying against the cushions, and watching Vic's agitated progress. "Come on, Vic, what's wrong? You can tell Uncle Mac!"

Vic swung around to Mac, pointing each word home angrily with his forefinger as he spoke. "It's just...it's everything! Everything! I feel like I live in a goldfish bowl, and I have no life. I've got nothing! I don't have any interests outside of work; I don't have a family, or anyone to come home to. The only certain thing I know is the fact I can't even scratch my butt without a report about it finding its way onto the Director's desk. I'm getting too damned old to live like this, and I don't know how to stop. It's like I'm on a fairground ride that's out of control, but I don't know how to stop it long enough to jump off." He had fetched up close to where Mac was sitting, and Mac was now gazing up at him with great fascination.

"You know, Vic, you're too intense. You take everything as a personal insult, and it isn't. Slow down and just appreciate the things you do have." Vic snorted.

"What do I have? I'll tell you! A big fat zero, that's what!" He punched the palm of his hand in frustration.

"You have people that care about you, Vic." Mac's voice was quiet. He stood up and moved the few paces to where Vic was standing. "I care about you!"

There was a pause. Vic stood looking at him with complete and utter astonishment. "What... what do you mean?" He managed at length. He gaped at Mac.

The taller man put his hand up to snag the back of Victor's neck, pulling his head forward. He suddenly found Mac's mobile mouth very firmly fastened to his own. He struggled halfheartedly for a moment, and then with a sigh, he relaxed and allowed Mac to claim a kiss from him. Mac's other arm went around Vic's waist, pulling him into a tight embrace. His lips clung to Vic, and his tongue probed and pushed, finally finding its way past Vic's lips, snaking into his mouth and swirling there in a manner that made Vic moan. Finally, Vic's arms moved up to circle his aggressor, one hand burying itself in the thick hair, and the other sliding around to run over his back. There was silence for a few minutes and then soft sighs as their lips parted.

"God, I've wanted to do that for so long," whispered Mac. His easy smile had deserted him, and the face he was showing right then looked predatory. Vic, a little drunk and totally astonished, was still trying to process the feelings that kissing his partner like that had set in motion. He raised a finger to touch his own lips, wonderingly, and then moved to trace Mac's. Mac nibbled the fingers, and they were hastily drawn back. Vic turned and sat down very suddenly.

"What the hell was that?" Vic's voice was low and breathy. Mac grinned.

"I kissed you, you idiot. Not only that, but I'm going to do it again. Then, when I've finished kissing you, I'm going to take you to bed, and I'm going to fuck you. This is not negotiable. This is what will happen. Any questions?" Vic, who had listened to this speech with his mouth agape, suddenly closed his jaw with a snap and shook his head. He was firmly convinced that Mac had lost his mind.

"You've gotta be kidding! What about... What about Li Ann?" Vic's voice was normally husky, but right now it was so quiet Mac had to strain to hear it.

"What about Li Ann? She's great, she's beautiful, and I love her a lot. I don't want her the way I want you though." For once Mac seemed to be serious. Vic studied him, trying to tell whether or not he was being set up for some kind of pratfall. Mac seemed to ooze sincerity. Vic shuddered, and at that point Mac swooped in on Vic's lips once more, first licking around the inside of Vic's lips, sending impossible thrills through his captive's body, and then closing in to invade Vic's mouth with his tongue, sucking and stroking while Vic moaned. Mac leaned over him, and the two of them gradually slid down the couch until Mac was lying, covering the chunkier man.

Vic was taken aback. He had never considered a relationship with another man, let alone with Mac. He was feeling extremely confused. Mac had just kissed him, and it had pretty well blown his socks off. He didn't have a clue what to make of it. As far as he knew, he'd never had any desire to explore a homosexual relationship. He couldn't recall ever checking out another man, but at the same time, Mac was here, sitting beside him announcing that he was going to get personal with him at any time. Strangely, instead of feeling outraged, he was finding it difficult to stay calm, as graphic images of what Mac meant to do to him raced through his overactive imagination.

"Why?" He gasped out the question in a suddenly hoarse voice. It sounded stupid, even to him, but Mac appeared to take it seriously. He pursed his lips, considering Vic's question.

"I don't really know. You irritate me, you annoy me, and I spend my whole life wanting to punch you out. Then, we get into a tight spot and I just know I can depend on you. I trust you more than I've ever trusted anyone, and for the last few weeks all I've been able to think of is you. I don't want to go through life in a state of permanent horniness! The Director told me I had to come over and make you feel better..." Mac grinned as Vic heaved violently, trying to get out from under him. Mac raised himself up, and climbed to sit astride Victor, pinning his arms down despite Vic's struggles to be free. Vic, who was at a disadvantage, found himself unable to dislodge the taller man, who rode him in much the same way a cowboy might ride a bronco. Finally, he subsided, glaring at Mac furiously.

"Are you telling me that you're putting me through this because the Director told you to? I don't fucking believe it!" Vic struggled one hand free and did his best to sink his fist into Mac's belly. Mac, still grinning from ear to ear, intercepted the blow, and carefully replaced Vic's hand under his knee. He idly drew his fingers over Vic's lips, causing the totally infuriated man to shake his head wildly from side to side as he tried to avoid the contact.

"Well, she told me you needed cheering up. She said you were depressed. I have to say that I did pick my own method. Don't you like it?" He put on a mock-aggrieved face as Vic thrashed around under him once more. Vic was becoming aware of the huge hard-on he was sporting, and he desperately tried to unseat his mocking tormentor. The last thing he wanted at present was for Mac to find out just how excited he was becoming. He just couldn't bear to think about the loss of face it would entail.

"You're a pervert! Just go away and leave me alone, OK? It's worked, I'm not depressed any more! I'm fucking furious instead. If you like to think of that as an improvement, go for it. Now, get out of my face!" He set his lips together in a firm line, closed his eyes, and waited. Nothing happened for a minute or two. Mac was sure Vic wouldn't be able to ignore him for long, so he waited. Once it became apparent Vic was going to do exactly that, Mac decided to take action. He leaned forward onto his hands and swung his knees down so he was laying full length along Victor's body. As he adjusted his position, he felt Vic's undeniable excitement, and chuckling to himself, he ground his crotch into the bulge he could feel beneath him. Vic's eyes flew open, and he growled as realization dawned on him that his secret had been discovered.

Mac laughed out loud at his opponent's expression and then put his hands flat along the side of Vic's face, lowered his head, and applied his lips to the other man's mouth as he writhed on top of him. Vic stiffened for a minute, and then, with a sigh, he allowed his lips to open and slowly began to return Mac's kiss. Mac, who had been afraid to push too hard in case Vic bit his tongue off, redoubled his efforts and put everything he had into his assault on Vic's mouth. His tongue swept the interior, stroking inside his lips and teasing along his tongue. His hands, holding Vic's head immobile at the start of the kiss, relaxed. One crept around the back of Vic's neck, and the other slowly moved down over his neck and shoulder as it fumbled towards his nipple, pausing to pinch and tweak the small nub.

The two of them lay for a few moments, kissing deeply, running their hands over each other's bodies, and thrusting their hips into each other. There was a pause, then Mac raised his head.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you." His eyes were huge, and his face was set in a determined expression Vic had not seen before.

"Er, that's OK, Mac, you don't have to put yourself out. Just let's not, and say we did, all right?" Vic's voice faltered as he stared into velvet brown eyes that seemed to look down into his heart. "Oh, fuck!"

Mac's mouth stopped any further protest as he slid it across Vic's chin until it found his lips once more. His hands were busily unfastening Vic's holster, and then untucking his T-shirt, pulling it up to expose Vic's chest. Clever fingers nipped at Victor's sides, tweaked at his nipples, and wandered at will across his chest, stroking and kneading as they went. Vic was rapidly sobering, awash in sensation. He was aware that unless he made a supreme effort right now, he was going to be in terrible trouble. He felt as if he had stepped through a portal into another world where none of the usual rules applied. He rather thought he wanted to stay there forever. He glanced down to where Mac was now suckling on his nipple, while he tried to unfasten Vic's jeans. Then he took a deep breath, gasping as Mac suddenly bit a little harder, and then gasping again as his pants were deftly unfastened, and his erection suddenly freed itself to throb in the night air.

"Oh, no! Oh no, no, nonono!" Vic's cry of anguish made Mac raise his head again to look at Vic. His lips looked bruised, and his eyes were huge with shock and arousal. Mac smiled at him.

"I told you, Vic, it's non-negotiable. Why don't you just enjoy it?' Mac smiled sweetly at Vic, then without any further ado, lowered his head down to engulf Vic's hard cock in his mouth. Vic convulsed. His brain virtually flew out of his ears, leaving him gasping and sobbing as Mac proceeded to lick and suck him into frenzy. Mac's mouth was wet and hot. As he ran his tongue up and down the vein that stood out along the shaft of Vic's cock, his hand stole between Vic's legs to press and circle the tight bud of Victor's anus. Vic couldn't stand the feelings. His head thrashed from side to side as he felt the unaccustomed sensations. Pausing to apply saliva to his fingers, Mac returned to his task, his mouth and tongue lashing the hapless Vic's dick, while his long, strong fingers carefully circled and probed, gradually working their way into Vic's tight rectum. As Mac slid his fingers back and forth, pressing in to find the ex-cop's soft spot, Vic was beside himself. He reached down to bury his hands in Mac's dark hair, and when he found he could not pull Mac's head away from his cock, he finally gave in, and holding on for dear life, he began to thrust into Mac's mouth. Mac worked away, flicking his fingers in and out, finally reaching the gland he knew would send Vic over the edge. As he finally managed to run his finger over Vic's prostate, he grinned to himself around his mouthful. Vic screamed. He screamed, arched his back, and then came in a rush, shooting his sperm into Mac's hungry mouth.

To Vic, it seemed to go on forever. His cock was trying its best to suck him out through the end. Everything tingled, from his toes to his hairline, and for a minute or two his entire body was locked up in spasm. Then, as Mac still lapped at his genitals, he gradually began to relax, finally slumping back onto the couch in a limp heap.

Mac drew himself up the couch to drape himself over the exhausted man, kissing him deeply, and sharing his own taste with him. Vic moaned.

"There. That's a start. Now, I'm going to fuck you." He smiled brilliantly at Vic, who took a moment to process this statement. When it finally hit home, he went white.

"Oh, now come on, Mac…" The voice was faint and breathy, and it sounded as if he had already accepted the inevitable.

"Vic, where's your bed? You're gonna enjoy this so much more if you're comfortable." Vic quailed, but Mac was watching his eyes and hauled him up to drag him off in the direction those terrified green eyes had indicated. Vic whimpered again. Mac sniggered.

As they entered Vic's bedroom, Mac swiftly pulled his colleague into a hard embrace, bending him back as he kissed him hard. Vic opened his lips beneath the onslaught, and Mac felt himself very close to coming right there as he realized just how responsive Vic was. Mac slid Vic's T-shirt over his head, and then released him while he quickly undressed himself, stopping only to take a tube of KY from his pocket and toss it onto the bed where it lay ready. Turning back to Vic, he saw his love object standing, gazing at him in apparent bemusement.

"Jeez, Mac, I can't think what the hell is happening to me…. " He shook his head in confusion as he spoke.

"It's all right, Vic. Everything's fine. Come on over here to me." He held his breath, not thinking that Vic would actually take the initiative. When Vic actually began to move over to him, Mac groaned, grabbing his lover violently and kissing his neck before running his tongue into Vic's ear. Vic clutched him convulsively.

He lowered the clinging form of his lover onto his bed, covering him with kisses, stroking and petting him as he moved to lie behind him and slightly to one side. Vic appeared to be in a daze, and allowed Mac to move him as he saw fit. Mac leaned on one elbow and pulled Vic's left knee up over him so that he lay partly beside him and partly beneath him. He was now so hard it hurt, and the sight of Vic lying there in front of him, eyes closed, panting as he slowly grew erect all over again, was almost too much. Mac reached down to spread Vic's cheeks apart again, and groping for a tube of lube, he began to massage Vic's ass with slippery fingers. Vic moaned again and turned his face to be kissed. Mac could stand it no longer, and with a groan, he pushed his cock up against the tight opening he had been preparing, and then thrust home. Vic started up, eyes wide, but as Mac took hold of the other man's cock with his slippery fingers and began to stroke up and down in time with his thrusting, he began to settle down again. Soon, the pair of them were gasping and groaning as the motions took them higher and higher. Mac could feel himself climbing the last tiny slope towards bliss and began to jerk spasmodically. Vic was in a similar predicament. As Vic helplessly began to shoot white come over the two of them, Mac could feel the tightness and warmth contracting around him, feeling like velvet and honey. He cried out Vic's name and shot into Vic's sweet ass.

Finally, falling back in a gasping tangle of limbs, Vic turned his head again, placing his lips against the other man's chin and nibbling gently. As Mac deflated, they fell apart, and Vic turned to face his new lover. They cuddled for a minute or two.

"Mac?" Vic's voice sounded as if he had trouble getting it going.

"What, love?" Mac seemed in better shape.

"You do realize that if the Director shows photos of this tomorrow, I am going to hunt you down and kill you, don't you?" The voice still sounded as if Vic had had too much whisky and one too many cigars.

"Oh, Baby! If she does, I'll kill myself."

"Yeah, I think I would too! Stay with me tonight?" Mac snuggled into Vic's shoulder as he stroked his chest, giving him a wordless answer.

The following morning the four agents were sitting around the table awaiting the advent of their Director. Jackie was babbling, as usual. Li Ann was ignoring her, and Mac was sitting gazing at Vic, who had his head in his hands and appeared to be asleep. The Director entered the room in her customary style, heels clicking on the concrete floor as she undulated in.

Slapping the table with her riding crop, she began to speak.

"Listen carefully. I have news that is likely to affect us all. Last night, I received news about a suicide pact that might bring our happy team to an end." She gently slid an envelope along the table to Mac and allowed him to open it. Mac did so, with trembling fingers, pulling the photographs out and studying them. He nudged Vic, who seemed to wake up, leaning over to look at what Mac was holding.

The Director languidly wandered up to Vic, placed one hand under his chin to turn his face towards her, and patted his face. She then placed a gun on the table in front of him, and strolled out.

The End

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