MAC 

As I drive over to Vic's, I'm growing more and more nervous. Although HE sounded sorrowful and nervous, I can't decide if the man simply wants to let me down easily or if he might actually be willing to discuss the possibility of taking this thing between us to a higher level. 

Damn, let it be the second. 

I sit for the longest time in my car after finding a spot in Vic's lot. Arguing with myself. Firmly telling myself that begging is not on the agenda. No, I'll go up, hear Vic out and NOT make a fool of myself by revealing yet again this need - this love I feel for him. 

How can I face Vic? Not allow my pain and confusion to show? 

But... Maybe... just maybe Vic has decided to carry on our affair after all - has come to understand that we could have an actual relationship. Vic called ME - invited me over. 

That's a good sign - I hope. 

No use in torturing myself with possibilities. I climb out of the car and head into his building. Stand in front of his door for too long a time before taking a deep breath and knocking. 

The door slowly opens, revealing Vic standing with a most unusually vulnerable look on his face. I clear my throat. "Hey." 

"Hey." Vic is quiet, unsure. His eyes look dark and wounded. "You coming in or what?" 

I walk inside and stand in the middle of his living room, waiting for the hammer to fall. What is it with him? He's the one who did the wounding, I think to myself. I straighten, standing taller. 

There is a strained silence; the air between us is thick. "You wanted to talk, Vic?" 

He thankfully doesn't do his stalking routine but instead goes and sits down on the couch. He looks up finally. "Have a seat." 

I remain standing. I know all too well what will happen if I go and sit there next to him. All my defenses will crumble, and I'll fall right back into the trap of wanting to- I shake myself slightly. "It's your move, Vic. Play it." 

He grimaces and looks down. "I was out of line," he admits, at last. 

I stand, waiting. He's not getting away with that. He knows it, too. 

His eyes flick back up to meet mine. "I'm sorry. It - got a bit much. Too heavy. I guess I bailed." 

"Bailed?" I repeat incredulously. "Is that what you call it?" 

He scowls up at me. "I'm trying to apologize," he growls, that husky voice both infuriating me and sending that oh-so-familiar response of lust crawling over my skin. 

Still not sure where this is heading, I find myself at a loss. "Um... okay." I walk over to the window and stare blankly at the sky as I try to understand exactly what he's apologizing for. That it ever happened? That he hurt me? That he was wrong? WHAT the hell is going on in his mind? 

"Vic," I say, turning to face him, "I don't ... I mean, what does this mean? Are we still um, do you still want this to end? Or, are you saying that ... SHIT! I need a drink. Where's the booze?" 

He shifts in his seat, averting his eyes from mine. "I stopped and picked up some of that beer you like on my way home. Or, if you want something stronger, it's in the cabinet over the sink." 

He stocked up on MY beer? Well, now- Can't let him think I don't appreciate the gesture, can I? I go to the fridge and grab a bottle. "You want anything?" I call to him. 

"Scotch," he says. "Straight up." 

Ooookay. I find the J&B and pour him a generous measure. Carrying our drinks back into the living room, I hand his over and look around, trying to decide where to sit. 

"Here," he says, patting the couch. "Sit here with me. We need to talk this out, Mac." 

I settle as far from him as possible and set my beer on the coffee table. "So, talk to me, Vic. I think you've got a pretty good idea of how I feel - how about telling me how YOU feel? Tell me... why did you ask me over? What do you want from me?"

VIC 

Feel? How do I feel? Like I'm navigating in shark-infested waters. Like I dug a big hole in the ground, and now I'm about to throw myself into it. I try to rally myself. Mac deserves better after the brush-off I gave him earlier. I take a gulp of the scotch. I'm scared. How the hell am I supposed to tell HIM that? I feel trapped. 

"Mac, I don't know how you feel. I assumed I did." I throw him a look, only to find him watching me with a steady eye. Damn it, I wish I felt as sure and confident as he looks. 

Mac frowns, as if honestly puzzled. 

I plow ahead, throwing myself into that hole. "I want... more. More than I thought you were willing to give. I didn't - I don't -" 

"Vic," Mac says gently, "I wanted more, too. I thought that's why you left." 

I take another drink of scotch, trying to buy time to collect my thoughts. "I didn't know that I'd hurt you. That badly, I mean. I'm sorry. I still want... whatever is we had. But-" I pause, passing a hand over my face. I wish I had some sort of clue here. Right now I actually have no idea how he feels. But I guess I owe it to him to expose myself, after what I did to him. The resurgence of guilt at having hurt him galvanizes me to add, "I think I want you more than I thought. I don't know if you - if you think I deserve another chance..." 

He closes his eyes. "Jesus, Victor! Get a clue, already. I'm in love with you, you idiot. I... Hell, I'm so pathetic. Willing to take whatever you can offer, I guess." With a heavy sigh, Mac leans back into the cushions. "Just don't... " He lifts his eyelids and looks directly into my eyes with a pleading expression. "Don't do this because you feel sorry for me. Please? You could hurt me badly, you know. Don't think I could take it if you shove me away again." 

Oh. This is scary. Hell, this is terrifying. But, he's being so open - not hiding his emotions at all now. Can I do any less? 

I swallow the last of my scotch, set the glass down and move a little closer to him. "Mac, I don't feel sorry for you. I don't. And, I'm pretty vulnerable myself at the moment. This is frightening. I've never... I mean, all my past experience with men was kind of anonymous, y'know? No emotions - just physical. I don't know how to have a relationship with a guy. I never felt this way for a man." 

Mac is still staring directly at me though. I feel like he isn't letting me off the hook. He gives a single laugh, but it isn't very mirthful. "And you think I have? C'mon, Vic, we're kind of in this together." 

I get the feeling he's waiting for some kind of revelation from me and then it hits me. He said he was in love with me - and now he is waiting for me to say the same. Only it's a hell of a lot harder to say it than to hear it. I don't know if it would be harder to say it if I was holding him or not. I guess it's only fair to just... admit it. Get it over with. I hate this. I'm trembling, and I don't like feeling like this. I drain my glass and lean forward to place it on the table. Turning to him once more, I lick my lips and just blurt it out. "I'm in love with you, too." 

He doesn't say anything but I have his full attention. 

Emboldened, I forge onwards, no doubt throwing myself so far down into that hole that I'll never get out, again. "I need you, and... I want this to work. Kind of... just feeling my way now, you know? I don't know what to expect. I don't know how we're supposed to make this work. I mean, we're still partners. And what about LiAnn? How is this going to affect-" 

He cuts me off. "Vic, we've been doing this for a while now. I think it's fairly safe to assume it's no-one's business but ours." 

I'm breathing harder and I wish he'd put me out of my misery. I don't know what I'm supposed to DO. 

Mac says, softly, "Vic, what do you say we try this my way, this time?" His brown eyes are clear and direct. 

I suddenly feel reassured. He does want this. And I feel I can trust this... situation. "Okay."

MAC 

Okay... he said okay! And he looks so peaceful with his admission of love. I sit there in stunned, ecstatic silence while I let his words sink in. I can't believe it - I want to believe him, I really do - but the past keeps me in place. Please let it be true. Oh GOD, let it be true. 

Finally, I take a deep breath and move to sit next to him, laying one arm over his shoulders. With my free hand, I lightly caress his face, touching him the way I've longed to touch him for so very long. I want to make love with him - want to take my time exploring every square inch of his body with fingers, lips, tongue, and, yes, teeth. 

With a shuddery sigh, I gently run my fingers over his face, pausing to enjoy those sinfully long lashes he uses to such great effect, then tracing a line around his soft lips. He smiles, then parts those lips and sucks my forefinger into the heat of his mouth. 

When he lets my finger go and lifts his lids to look at me, I catch my breath at his expression. Soft, open, needy. "I want you Mac," he says. "I want you to make love to me." 

His words combined with the way that he sucked on my finger sends an arrow of instant arousal shooting to my groin and I can feel myself hardening already. 

Wow. This is... new ground. And the build-up - Jesus, I've wanted this for such a long time now. Each time he came over previously seemed to simply add to the tension. This is very different. I feel a deep excitement creep over me. At last. On my terms. At my pace. I'm going to make this unforgettable for him. 

The feeling of being in control of this, of HIM, is so heady. He's beautiful. His large, green eyes are nearly black, and a sweeping glance downwards reveals that he's already hard, himself. But I don't want to rush this, or move too quickly. I lean over to kiss him, slowly, gently, controlling the speed. I can feel the restrained power of him under my hands as I begin to move them over his body. God, his lips, warm and relaxing under mine... and then his tongue. I slide my own to meet his and then there is nothing but melting and heat. 

THIS is what I've wanted so much, what I've been hungering for. This slow dance of mutual drowning. His hands come up to encircle me, beneath my arms, and pull me against him. I end up on top of him and my position in this particular phase of our relationship means that I get to call the shots. I pull back to grin down at him. "Vic," I say, my voice lower and huskier than I expected, "why don't we move next door? I think we need a bed for this." 

He doesn't answer; he just rises from the couch and holds out one hand to pull me up beside him. Luckily, my legs don't buckle, and we head into the bedroom, still holding hands. Slowly, with great care we undress each other, taking frequent breaks to explore revealed skin, stroke known hot spots. 

It's too wonderful. To have him caress me - to be allowed to touch him. I'm fascinated by the softness of his skin - silk over the steel of his muscles. And, amazingly, he seems to be enjoying my stroking of him just as much. 

His hand is moving lower... Oh god! He's wrapped his fingers around my cock. "Oh, Vic... Damn! I think we'd better lay down - before my legs give out under me." 

Somehow we manage to get to the bed and fall onto the mattress without ever losing physical contact. We end up with Vic on his back, me on my side, draped along his length. His eyes are hazy with pleasure, only the barest ring of green surrounding his dilated pupils. 

"You're so beautiful, Vic," I murmur. 

His lips curl in a sensuous smile, and he stares at my lips longingly. Unable to resist, I press my mouth to his, groaning at his instant response. 

He seems to relax into the kiss, letting me possess his mouth. I run my hand down his side, then up along his chest to his nipple, stroking it until it's a stiff point, a little jewel. Unable to resist, I break away from his mouth, and with a grin, I lick at that nipple, wetting it with my tongue as he gasps. 

"Vic, where's the... you know - " 

"The drawer," he manages. 

I get up to lean over and open it, quickly withdrawing the objects in question and lay them on the bed beside us, up by the pillow. I'm going to need them soon. But not too soon. I can't help a purely evil leer and his eyes turn wide as well as dark. I return to his side, to attach my mouth to his, lingering on his lips, letting my tongue dart between them to capture his again. The taste and heat of him, the intimate cavern of his mouth, sliding the tip of my tongue along his teeth, I'm getting lost in him again. 

His hand is on me though, creeping up slowly along my hip, my waist, and over to my belly, to grasp my stiff cock. 

I pull back, instantly. "Ah-ah, no way. Not this time. Vic," I chuckle. "Put your hands up. Go on; put them up behind your head. Yeah. Just like that." 

I sit up beside him, enjoying the way he bites his lower lip with a slight nervousness. He's always controlled the plays before, and having play the sub for me now is a little worrying for him. I am not going to disappoint him though. And it must be that he trusts me, for he merely lies there, waiting for my next move. 

I grin widely, and begin to inch my way lower, then lean down to lick and nip at the soft skin of his belly, moving lower as I go to the join of his leg to his body, there to press my face all along the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. I can hear that the breaths he takes are hoarse. 

"M-Mac -" 

"Sshh," I whisper, letting both my hands fall to his thighs, holding them down to the bed. I kneel between his legs and then move a hand to touch his balls. Leaning down now, I take them into my mouth, lightly rolling them with my tongue, feeling him tense and quiver under my attentions. 

He's moaning helplessly, his lips pressed together. 

I release his velvety balls and then lightly run my tongue up the stem of his cock to the tip, where a single glistening, salty pearl waits. I draw it onto my tongue-tip and then begin to wash the head of his cock while holding him down, ready for the bucking of his hips as he cries out. 

His cock is MINE. 

And I'm going to prove it to him. 

VIC 

It's too much. 

It's not enough 

This is exactly what I feared, that I would lose myself completely in his lovemaking. I can't do this... 

I have to do this. 

He's touching me with such reverence, such possession... and his mouth! Oh god, what his tongue is doing to me must be illegal in most parts of the world. 

Biting my lip, I try so hard to stay still, not choke him. Not an easy thing to manage - and when he takes a deep breath and swallows my cock to the root, I'm embarrassed to hear myself whimper. 

He hums his approval, and reaches blindly for the lube. In an agony of anticipation, I watch as he flips up the top and slicks his fingers. Oh yes... I know what's next. And, to my shame, I raise my knees and part my legs, offering myself to him with a groan. 

One finger. That's all, one finger - and I'm arching up, begging for more. I want him. More than I've ever wanted anything in my life, I want him to fuck me. I suppose that's why I always came on as such a strong top with him, I was afraid to let him know how much I love the feel of a hard cock inside of me. 

"More," I gasp. "Please, Mac... I need more." 

He lets my cock slip out of his mouth and looks at me. Not teasing, not triumphant - just need. And joy. 

He doesn't take his eyes from mine as he pulls out his finger and then applies more lube, this time pressing two fingers inside of me. 

I hiss and arch under him, my arms tensing with the need to pull down, but I obediently leave them up above my head. "Mac," I say, surprised at how hollow and shaken my voice sounds to my own ears. 

"I'm gonna take good care of you, baby," he says, quietly, adding a third finger to this slow plundering of my ass. He brushes lightly against the gland inside me, but even that isn't enough, and the need to have his cock ramming into me is almost as uncomfortable as a physical itch. His fingers are moving in and out. He's moving too slowly, damn it! I ruthlessly force down the embarrassing urge to beg, to squirm and try to impale myself harder on his hand. 

He takes his hand away after an indeterminate period of time during which my brain has dribbled out of my ears, and all capability for coherent speech has fled, leaving me merely a twisted mass of expectant nerves. Waiting. For him to fuck me. 

He reaches for the condom and tears it open with a little flourish, a slightly awkward grin on his face at this gesture telling me the grand event is upon us. 

His long, slender, beautiful erection is soon latex-sheathed and nudging at my entrance, and with a little sigh he presses forward, his hands on my hips to hold me in position for him. As he slides the tip of his cock past the ring of muscle inside me, I can't hold back a gasp. It burns, but with a fire that finally soothes some of the need and urgency away. As he waits for me to grow accustomed to it, this time I DO squirm. 

"God, Mac, PLEASE. Just- just do it! I need it - please fuck me!" The desperation in my voice is appalling, yet it doesn't even come close to spelling out just how important it is to me that he do me right. 

And then there is nothing, no sensation left in my world but that of Mac's cock spearing me, sliding into me with the slow, unstoppable sinking of invasive entry. He lets out a moan that mirrors my own need. 

I can't help a shout, torn from me by the hard heaven of being taken. And he's bending over me to catch my eyes with his, as he possesses me at last. There's wonder and tenderness in his eyes that make me catch my breath. 

Oh god... to finally give in and let go, surrender to him... It's, actually terrifying. This is what I'd been afraid of. And here I am, urging him to do it, wanting it, inviting it. This is - I am so fucked. Literally. I'm shaking with the need for him to start fucking me. I want it rougher, this sweetness is starting to undo me inside. But he's relentless. He won't stop staring down at me with - love. Yes, love. 

A feeling of panic rises to my throat and chokes me. 

But Mac sees it and raises a hand to stroke my head, down to my cheek to cup my face. He stops and with his cock lodged deep inside of me, he bends down to kiss my lips, once. "Hey, lover. You okay?"

MAC 

He's scared. I can see it in his eyes, feel it in the sudden tenseness in his muscles. I wonder how long it's been since he's submitted to someone else. And, there's need in his eyes. What does he want? What am I doing wrong? 

His hands twitch, then move to grip my ass with bruising force. "Harder," he moans. "I need... I need it harder, Mac. Please." 

That I can definitely do... I pull out and thrust into him forcefully. 

"Oh yeah!" he groans. "Again. Don't stop. Don't ever stop." 

I almost lose it. His husky tone - the tone I've dreamed of hearing from him - sends a jolt to my cock, and I can't hold back any longer. With increasing force, I fuck him, slamming into him again and again. 

Vaguely I hear sounds of pleasure, and I can't for the life of me figure out which one of us it is. Maybe both. Probably both. I've never lost myself so completely in another. And, I suspect that I never will again; only Vic can make me feel this way. 

Sweat is rolling off of my face onto his chest. I feel my orgasm start to gather at the base of my spine. "Vic," I pant, "'m gonna... GOD, I can't last much longer... Wanted this for so long... You feel so good, baby - so good." As I start to jerk uncontrollably against him, my cock taking on a life of its own, I can feel his own orgasm begin as a rippling, clutching sensation. Despite the drumbeat of my heart pounding in my ears, and the white light flickering behind my eyelids, I can hear Vic's shriek as he comes, and then I feel the shuddering of him under me, around my cock. It's too much, and I shove into him, hard, letting go and pouring my come into him. It floods out of me with a liquid pleasure I've tried to reach with him before, but only ever dreamed of. 

Vic is shaking under me, chanting my name; he can't stand it anymore and reaches down to clutch at my arms, my shoulders. I collapse down onto him, his legs shakily lifting to clasp me to him harder. 

My breath is a sob. The slight sheen of sweat covering his skin is fresh and so laced with Vic-scent that I just breathe. Breathing it in, I feel closer to him than ever before. 

I close my eyes, wanting to lose myself in this forever. 

After a while, I realize that Vic's breathing is even and slow. His legs have slipped back down to the bed from around, me and I've softened inside of him. I raise my head carefully from his chest. He's asleep. 

I peel myself away from him, slowly, gingerly, not wanting to wake him up. 

I fumble around in the bathroom, disposing of the condom and locating a towel. When I come back, slightly cleaned up and ready to do the same for him, he is still asleep. I gently wipe the come from him and pull the covers around him. 

By the time I climb into the bed beside him, I'm wondering if we've made progress at all. But Vic seems to sense my presence and automatically turns to me, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to him. He murmurs something but he's half asleep and it's too unintelligible for me to make out. 

I find myself smiling in the dark. Sure, we have a long way to go - but he DID admit he loves me. And, as difficult as it was for him to tell me, I suspect he must have meant it. At least we've started talking. If we can manage to keep being honest with each other we have a chance - a good chance - of making this thing work.