V: The V in Vengeance

by Snyder, J. M.

  “He likes you.” Actually, Matt knew that wasn’t quite true. Vic tolerated Roxie because she and Matt were friends, at least while at work. Her outrageous outfits, strange hairdos, and brash attitude put off Vic at the best of times. Vic only bothered being nice—or rather, his semblance of nice—for Matt’s sake.

  With a lofty sigh, Roxie flipped her hair over one shoulder. “I know. How could he not?”

  Matt wisely kept his mouth shut and glanced through his mail, waiting for Roxie to leave. But instead she leaned against the door frame, leafing through a glossy catalog as if she had nothing better to do. >From the corner of his vision, Matt tried to see what kind of catalog it might be. There were two male hands on the cover, crossed to show off matching gold bands… “Hey,” he said, reaching over the top of his monitor to flip up the catalog for a better look. “Is that mine?”

  “Why would you be interested in a jewelry catalog?” Roxie asked. “It’s just trash.”

  She managed to turn another page, then a third, before Matt snatched the catalog from her. His name was imprinted on the back address label. “This is mine. I’ve been waiting for it.”

  Roxie laughed. “You don’t make enough to afford the bling in there. You don’t even wear jewelry. What—”

  Then she noticed the cover—two men holding hands. Matt didn’t need Vic’s telepathic ability to read past her wide eyes and open mouth. In a small voice, she asked, “Wait. You aren’t…” Her gaze raised to meet Matt’s, who saw her growing excitement before he quickly looked away. “Oh my God, Matt. Are you and Vic exchanging rings?”

  “No.” He opened a random desk drawer and tucked the catalog out of sight. Even though he shook his head for emphasis, Roxie let out a tiny squeal and clapped her hands. “Rox, no. I haven’t—I mean, we haven’t even talked about it yet.”

  “But you will.” She did a quick little dance in his doorway, her hair flouncing out in time with her skirt. “Oh God, that’s so romantic. Can I be in the wedding? Can I—”

  “No,” Matt said, shaking his head. “There isn’t—Roxie! Calm down already, will you? You’re more excited about this than I am.”

  That wasn’t quite true. The catalog had brought with it a rush of conflicting emotion; if Roxie hadn’t been standing there, Matt would’ve been choked up just thinking about buying a ring for his lover. This was a big step in their relationship, something he wanted to take slowly, something he wanted to think about and savor before making that sort of commitment. He wouldn’t let himself get caught up in it, he’d already decided. But Roxie’s reaction was infectious, and Matt tried in vain to tamp down the silly grin that wanted to spread across his face. Her girlish behavior made Matt want to run through the halls of the gym shouting Vic’s name at the top of his lungs as he brandished the catalog high above his head. He wanted to bust up into the weight room, straddle the bench on which his lover lay, and pour over every ring in the book with Vic until they found the right pair.

  Though he had turned his attention away from his lover while Roxie was in his office, Matt now felt the connection between them yawn open and Vic’s voice spoke into his mind, filling him like a god’s. ::Be there in two minutes.:: Brushing over Matt’s emotions, Vic paused. ::Matty? You okay?::

  Quickly Matt pulled himself together. It felt like a shade being drawn in his mind, hiding his thoughts from his lover. ::Fine, babe, if you don’t count Roxie driving me crazy. Want me to meet you up front?::

  Vic prodded at Matt’s defenses but knew better than to try to break through them. With a sigh, he admitted, ::I’m almost at the pool. Wait there and you can walk me out.::

  When Matt’s attention returned to Roxie, he found her leaning over his open desk drawer, once more flipping through the catalogue. “These are nice,” she murmured, pointing to a pair of ornately chiseled gold rings. “A bit flimsy for Vic, though. How about—”

  “How about stop it?” Matt closed the catalogue and tucked it back into the drawer. “Roxie, listen. Forget it, okay? Please?”

  She pouted, her lips drawn down like a black scar across her face. “But I want to help—”

  “No.” Matt stood, edging between her and the drawer. “Vic’s on his way, and I don’t want him to know I’m thinking about this yet. I need to pick the perfect time to tell him—”

  “I won’t say a word,” Roxie promised. “Can’t I just look through the book?”

  But Matt shook his head. “Not now. Don’t talk about it, and for God’s sake, don’t think about it, either. He’ll hear your thoughts. I want this to be a surprise.”

  Roxie rolled her eyes. “He can’t read minds,” she said, exasperated. “He’s not even here.”

  “He’s on his way,” Matt told her. Reaching out with his own thoughts, he found Vic’s easily—his lover currently strode down the hall leading to the pool. “Just forget you even saw the rings, okay? For me?”

  “Can I be in the wedding?” Roxie twirled one red strand of hair around her finger and gave Matt a look he’d last seen on Sadie when she wanted him to give her another cup full of kibble that morning. “I can be the maid of honor, or something. Please? What other girls do you know?”

  The double doors scraped open a second time. Matt shook his head, eyes wide as he pleaded with Roxie, “Don’t say it. Don’t think it. We’ll see.”

  Roxie grinned. “That means yes.”

  Matt ducked out of his office, unwilling to argue any further with Vic nearby, and walked right into his lover’s broad chest. The smell of sweat rose around him; he pressed his face into Vic’s damp sweatshirt and breathed deep the manly musk. Wrapping his arms around his lover’s ample waist, Matt raised his head back and set his chin on Vic’s collarbone as he grinned up. “Hey, sexpot. Kiss me quick.”

  Vic obliged. His arms came up around Matt’s hips, holding him close. Lip-locked, he spoke directly into Matt’s mind. ::She still here?::

  It was Roxie who answered with a randy wolf whistle that made Matt blush. He pulled back from Vic, resting his forehead against his lover’s chin. “Roxie, do you mind?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she snipped, “but the girls in the pool can watch, can’t they?”

  Matt glanced at the pool—the hydro-aerobics class had paused to watch Matt and Vic kiss. Most of the class were older women who thought Matt adorable; now they smiled wistfully as he stood in Vic’s embrace. More than one sighed. When Vic turned his harsh glare their way, they began to giggle like schoolgirls. Matt’s cheeks burned.

  Vic stepped back, slipping his hand into Matt’s. “Come on,” he said, his voice gruff. “Walk me to the car.”

  As they left the pool, Roxie made kissing noises that set the women in the class giggling again. Matt waited until he and Vic were alone, the hallway empty, before tugging on his lover’s hand to pull him back for another kiss. “She’s going to be the death of me, you know that, right?” he murmured against Vic’s mouth.

  “Don’t let her get to you.” Vic ran a hand through Matt’s hair, pushing it back from his brow, and smiled at his lover before they kissed again. The love Matt saw shining in Vic’s eyes softened his harsh features, making him perfect. “That’s what she wants, and God forbid you let her win.”

  With a surprised laugh, Matt let Vic lead him to the car.

  * * * *

  Vic’s day passed quickly—it was shorter than usual, six hours instead of his regular eight, because someone in management had grown worried about the excess amount of leave time a few long-term employees had gathered over the years and was forcing them to take it piecemeal to avoid any problems down the road. Having worked for the city’s transportation authority for most of his adult life, Vic had enough vacation time squirreled away to take off ten consecutive months if he wanted. Before he met Matt, he’d never bothered taking any time—there had been no need to. Now, though, he was always taking off, though the reason behind his frequent absences wasn’t usually what he’d call a “vacation.” He’d already used all his sick time cal
ling in whenever he drew a crappy power after a night of loving Matt, and had resorted to taking personal days when he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—go out in public.

  Vic knew his boss was worried by the absences. Whenever he clocked in, he couldn’t help but pick up on Mr. Morrison’s thoughts—the old man suspected Vic was job hunting, which was ridiculous, really. In this economy, why would he leave a job he’d held for years only to jump ship now? To assuage his boss’s fears, Vic had agreed to the reduced hours, working thirty hours a week and shaving ten hours off his vacation. When summer started and some of the other drivers took their own time off, Vic would still get overtime by working a double shift. And he’d have plenty of time to take in September, when Matt had a week off from the gym.

  Still, a six-hour shift would take some getting used to. After the late lunch Vic usually ate, he was surprised to find he had less than two hours before he had to head back to the garage. It felt strange turning off his sign and driving past the bus stop crowded with commuters, and the traffic on the interstate was a little heavier than he anticipated. It’d been quite a while since he had sat behind the wheel of his own car at this hour of the day—the sunlight was all wrong, reflecting off the duct tape that held his steering wheel together, and night didn’t descend as he drove home.

  At the curb in front of his apartment building, he had a panicky moment when his heart stuttered in his chest because Matt’s black Jaguar wasn’t there. But it wasn’t even six thirty yet, and Vic didn’t know how long it usually took his lover to get home. Had he worked late? Did he manage to pick up Sadie before the daycare closed?

  Another scary thought struck. Was the dog all right?

  Vic shook his head as he climbed out of the car. Matt was fine, the dog, too. It was Vic who was thrown off with this wacky new schedule. And, as if to prove it, a sleek Jag slid into the spot behind Vic’s battered old Corolla before he even made it to the front steps. Pounding hip hop music blared from the stereo, vibrating the very air around Vic. He stopped, turned, and saw Sadie lunge out at him through the passenger side window, her mouth open to bark but the sound lost in Matt’s music. When Matt cut off the car, silencing the beat, she barked again, happy to see Vic. The moment Matt unbuckled her seat belt, she scrambled through the open window.

  “Watch the paint!” Matt cried.

  Sadie ignored him. Racing across the sidewalk, she launched herself at Vic’s legs, tongue lolling as she snuffled into his palm. When she found he held no treats, she worked her way under his hand, forcing him to pet her ears. Her tail slapped against the steps, Vic’s legs, the azaleas Mrs. K had planted in front of the building. The dog wasn’t just pleased to see him—she was ecstatic, as if it hadn’t been this morning when he dropped her off at daycare but years ago, and she’d been pining away for him ever since.

  When Vic heard Matt set the alarm on his car, he looked up to find his lover struggling to carry a large bag of dog food in both arms. Plastic bags swung from his wrists, each marked PetSmart. So they’d been shopping, had they? And from the looks of those bags, Sadie had made out like a bandit. “A little help here,” Matt muttered from behind the bag of dog food.

  With little effort, Vic plucked the bag from Matt’s embrace and tucked it under one arm. Fifty pounds of kibble was nothing compared to the thousand pounds of steel and iron he lifted on a daily basis. Matt stepped up, eyes closed, mouth puckered. “Kiss me,” he demanded.

  Vic didn’t need to be told. What began as a quick peck devolved into something slow and sensuous as Matt chased the first kiss with another, and another, and a third. He stood on tiptoe, reaching for Vic, who wrapped his free arm around Matt’s waist and held him close, raising him off the ground an inch or two as they kissed. But when Vic licked into Matt, hungry for more, his lover pulled back. “These bags are heavy,” he complained.

  Vic set him down on the lower step and took the plastic bags from him, as well.

  Unburdened, Matt knelt and tried to clip Sadie’s leash onto her collar, but the dog was still too excited and refused to sit still. “What are you doing home so early? Sadie, stop!”

  The dog bounded up the short flight of stairs and scratched at the door to their building. When Matt followed, she rounded behind Vic, trotting a little way down the sidewalk before turning to dig in the freshly turned earth by Mrs. K’s plants. “Sadie!” Matt cried, chasing after her. “Get back here. Vic…”

  Vic barked, “Sit!”

  Immediately, Sadie heeded him. Matt threw his lover a dark glare as he clipped on the leash. “Why doesn’t she listen to me?”

  “You spoil her,” Vic said. When Matt started to protest, he simply held up the bags in his hand and shook them. Something jingled inside, easily snagging Sadie’s attention. She jumped for Vic again, pulling Matt along with her.

  Matt held the door for Vic. “I don’t spoil her.”

  “You do,” Vic argued, heading up the stairs to their apartment. “That’s why she doesn’t listen to you. I spoil you; you don’t listen to me.”

  Matt trailed behind him. “Vic, that’s not fair. I hear everything you say.” Mentally, he added, ::And everything you don’t, if you want to get picky about it.::

  “Then you heard me tell you I’m working six hour days for a while?” Vic asked.

  At first Matt didn’t reply. When Vic reached the landing he turned, a faint smile on his face that spread wider when he saw Matt’s ignoble pout. Matt glanced up, chagrinned, and tried to pout harder but couldn’t hold it for long. “I’m sure I heard you,” Matt said, struggling not to laugh. “I just don’t remember it. That’s not the same as not listening. That’s getting old.”

  “Getting old is buying stock in Viagra,” Vic joked. “We’re not old yet.”

  Matt snickered. “Is that stuff covered by Medicare? ‘Cause if not, we’re screwed.”

  “Actually…” Vic trailed off, letting Matt get his drift.

  Now his lover did laugh out loud. He held the door to their apartment open so Vic could enter, but it wasn’t shut two seconds before he leaned against Vic’s back, arms around Vic’s, their bodies pressed together. Vic could feel the start of an erection prodding his ass. Pushing out his butt, he teased, “What’s this?”

  Matt’s hands clenched at Vic’s belt buckle, then dropped lower to fist in the front of his work pants. At the bulge he found there, Matt breathed into Vic’s ear, “Sadie’s not the only spoiled pooch getting a bone tonight.”

  Vic laughed. “Have I told you your pick-up lines suck?”

  “I don’t have to pick you up,” Matt said. “You’re already at my house. I just have to get your clothes off and that’s never been a problem before. Unless you have something better than me planned for your two-hour vacation today?”

  Vic didn’t. When Matt took a step down the hallway, Vic dropped the plastic bags he held and followed. At the doorway to the kitchen, he set the heavy bag of dog food down, his gaze never leaving the sexy smirk on Matt’s face. As Vic watched, Matt leaned against the far wall and shimmied out of his blue shorts—his white polo-style shirt covered his underwear, but Vic could see the front of it tent beneath a hidden erection. When Vic started to close the distance between them, however, Sadie’s impatient whine stopped him.

  Cupping his erection, Matt laughed. “Feed the dog, mister. I’ll hold onto this until you’re done.”

  “Meet me in the bedroom in five minutes,” Vic said.

  “Two,” Matt corrected.

  It didn’t take Vic long to fill the dog’s food bowl. As she dove into her kibble, he closed the folding louver door that separated the kitchen from the hallway—she could still exit from the other side where the kitchen opened to the dining area, but it would take her a few moments to figure that out and buy him some time. The worst part about owning a dog, he’d learned, was that she had an uncanny knack for interrupting intimate moments between himself and Matt. No sooner would they start to get frisky than the dog would jump on the bed, wanting to share
in the attention. And if they closed the door without feeding her first? She’d scratch and whine at the door, ruining the mood.

  Not tonight.

  In the hall, Vic stripped out of his work clothes, leaving them on the floor where they fell. Dressed only in his boxers, he rounded the corner and could see Matt stretched across their bed, his shirt gone. He lay on his side, head propped up in his hand, and gave Vic a smoldering look as his lover approached the bedroom. Matt’s arousal seeped into Vic’s mind, warming his thoughts and piquing his own libido. In the doorway Vic paused, one hand drifting below his waist to stroke his stiffening cock through his boxers as he savored the sight of Matt sprawled so decadently across their sheets. Matt’s black hair fell over his brow, tousled; his eyes simmered a deep green, and his flesh looked burnished in the golden light of the lamp on the bedside table. Against his dusky skin, his white briefs seemed to glow. The front Y gapped open, straining against his still-sheathed erection. “Get over here,” he growled, patting the bed in front of him.

  Crossing the room, Vic eased onto the bed to stretch out beside Matt. “Hey,” he breathed into his lover’s ear.

  Through their mental bond, he felt Matt shiver in delight beneath him. Their connection left no room for doubt, no need to talk—Vic knew what Matt wanted before his lover could even put the thoughts into words, and he rolled on top of Matt, eager to please. He kissed the smooth skin just in front of Matt’s ear, then gingerly took the earlobe between his teeth. The guttural moan that escaped Matt’s throat teased along Vic’s spine. “God,” Matt sighed.

  Vic rolled onto him, pressing Matt back against the bed to pin him to the bed as they kissed. The front of Vic’s boxers snapped open beneath the heavy weight of his cock and Matt took the hard length in his hand, massaging from tip to base. Vic’s mouth covered Matt’s, demanding, his tongue insistent as it parted Matt’s lips to slip between them. With his free hand, Matt managed to free his dick from the confines of his briefs. When the damp tip of Matt’s cock brushed along Vic’s own length, Vic went from mildly interested to Sweet Jesus, yes! in two seconds flat.