Miss You

Alone With You
NGM
Disclaimer – Perfect song.
I also have to give credit to Evil Lunch here, since without her there would be no use writing any of this at all. In fact, she helped me write a majority of this piece. Which is actually #2, thank you very much.

*YOU MUST READ THIS*
I’ve taken some liberties here, as far as the story goes. Well, not even that, the whole THING is a liberty in that context, but the relations. Mr.Pink makes mention to Mr.White in the beginning of the film, that he’s known Joe since he was a kid.

Even before that, in the restaurant, we see Eddie’s some-what familiar gestures towards Mr.Pink, and further in the film, Pink’s subsequent eye rolling to Vic (like he’s ‘heard this all before’,), frustration at Eddie, and the ‘lets watch Eddie and Vic laugh at Pink because Joe just called him a faggot. Oh, good times.

Therefore, I’m simplifying this, to an extent. Pink is, in my world, related to the Cabot family. Perhaps not the last name (in my mind, Pink’s mom is Joe’s sister-in-law, ie, Eddie’s mom’s sister. But, yeah, this is all getting complex and family tree-like, but that’s how it works for me. I can’t base it on anything, except my imagination. It just fits well.

In addition, he looks like a ‘Thomas’ to me, well, a ‘Tommy’, since we get a Vic, and Eddie, a Freddy and a Larry. (It doesn’t hurt that I know a guy named Tom who looks just like a slightly scrawnier Steven B.) That, and since we get a Jimmy Dimmick (in Pulp Fiction, need I quote the ‘Dead n-word storage’ for you?) And Larry… Nah, I’m not even bothering to connect that, but I will say that I’m calling Mr.Brown ‘Jimmy’, just by proxy.

So now, thank you for reading this, you know what’s going on.


~*~*~*~

It had been a little more than a week since Victor Vega had been released from prison on good behavior. That had come to a shock; honestly, to the lot of people the man had acquainted himself with over the years.

Most of those who had found out were pleased, glad to hear that Vic had been set free, his brother Vincent, had even been notified and sent a ‘care’ package (so to speak…) from Amsterdam, care of the Cabot’s. Just a sweet gesture, of course.

The only man who seemed to have the biggest problem with Victor Vega being free was his parole officer, but if either Joe or Eddie Cabot had anything to do with that, the man would be keepin’ his trap shut and sucking it the fuck up.

It was pushing 10pm, when Eddie’s cell phone rang, of course, he was on his way to some level of inebriation by this time, but as that massive box clambered at his hip, the only heir to the prophesized ‘Cabot fortune’ everyone loved to joke about, excused himself from the table of men he sat with, poking his way into one of the more secluded, unknown ‘offices’ in his club.

“Hello?”
“Mr.Cabot? This is Seymour Scagnetti…”

Eddie bristled, though no one could see him, and tugged at his collar, smirking a little.

“Oh yes, Seymour, how are you doing tonight?”
“Enough with the small talk Cabot, where is Victor Vega?”
“Ahh, I’m really sorry, I’d thought that he’d told you, we sent him out to Salina, then Barstow, he won’t be back for at least a week… Sorry Seymour, that’s business…”

Silence was the only thing that Eddie was met with, which caused the man to smirk wider, running a hand through his hair.

“I want documentation.”
“No problem, Seymour, anything else?”

Another cone of silence, followed by a grumble that was nothing more than sheer agitation.

“No.”
“Glad I could be of some service then!” Eddie quipped joyously, before cutting out of the conversation. Ahh, that guy really was some kinda prick… But it didn’t matter now.

Adjusting his collar again, the Cabot stepped back into the bustling bar, waving at assorted people who had acknowledged his presence first, it was no big thing. Shit, it’s not like this wasn’t his bar or anything either…

However, Eddie’s smile shifted from friendly to radiant, as he slid back into his seat, eyeing the men around the table.

“Who was that?”
“Who wants to know?”
“Yeah, c’mon, it obviously wasn’t for you.” Another snarked, smirking over his glass.
The mustached man bristled, brow furrowing.
“Jeez, sorry, I was just curious, that’s all…”
“Nah, it was no one important.” Eddie rumbled, raising his glass. “On the other hand…”

His gaze was deliberate, heavily lidded from semi-exotic drinks already downed, dropping to the man on his right who was just one solid quirked brow and a smile. Vic shifted, eyeing his friend, then the other two around the table. This really had been some time. He was sure that shithead p.o. of his was the one who had called Eddie, but that was far from his mind at the moment as well.

It was nice, for once, to see this meeting of people again… Sure, Eddie had gone out for drinks with one or the other of the two guys, even both at the same time, but it wasn’t the same without Vic.

Never really was.

His smile broadened, and he leaned towards his recently paroled buddy, slinging an arm about his shoulders.

“I’m speakin’ fer everyone here…” Eddie almost slurred, not out of drunkenness, okay, well perhaps he was buzzed, but with some level of sheer over-eagerness, nuzzling closer to his friend than he had originally intended.
“Speak for yourself…” The man who would be referred to as Mr.Pink sometime in the future murmured, before taking a long slug from his beer. “I mean, it’s not like he’s gonna pick on *you* and bum *your* cigarettes…”
“Tommy.” Eddie deadpanned, one brow arching in a face that could be called disturbingly similar to his father’s solid stare.
“…”
“Shut the fuck up.”

The only reply to that was an eye roll, and a loud laugh from the man whose name would be too close to ‘Mr.Shit’.

“You too.” Eddie barked towards the other.
“Jeez…”
“Ya damn RIGHT it’s a jeez, I’m tryin’ to be serious here! As I was sayin’…” The bossy young Cabot rumbled, arm hanging heavily across Vic’s shoulders. “I speak for EVERYONE, including that fuck right over there…” This comment, directed of course, to the scrawny, half-scowling man. “When I say, that it’s not good company, unless you’re here.”

His reply, was a smile that broadened and an arm draped across *his* shoulders.

“S’good to be here.”
“So when’s the ceremony?” Jimmy quipped, his lips wide with a smirk. Ahh, something Nice Guy seemed to forget, was that with Vic back, it’d be 100 times easier to poke fun at the usually cocky, short and stocky Cabot.
Something both he and Tommy had noticed was that Eddie, however easy to poke fun at generally, would really, really get heated and red in the face (literally.) whenever anything was mentioned about the almost strange relationship that he shared with Vic Vega.
“Yeah, Vic, aren’t you goin’ home with Ed tonight?” Tommy murmured, pleased to have the attention focused off of him for once.

An eyebrow was arched, and the arm around Eddie’s shoulders tightened, Vic bringing his face close to the others.

“Yeah, me and Nice Guy here are gonna ‘make up for lost time’…”

That, that was what really got Eddie going. It was just merely agitating (okay, well maybe REALLY agitating) to get teased over something like that, by Forehead and that squirrelly fuck, but when Vic eagerly egged them on?

Chh, what the fuck!

Eddie managed something between a sputter, a curse, though his face was pinking a bit. (Though, that could be attributed to the alcohol, but no one made mention to it, lucky for him…) It was just so strange, because in actuality, all he *wanted* to do was go home and make up for lost time. And not just time that Vic was in prison, shit, ALL of the time.

He wanted to shout a ‘don’t encourage them!’ or ‘shut the shit up Vic!’, something to that extent, but as his mouth parted to defend his (pretty much non-existent) heterosexuality, the three who apparently were having more fun watching him in his discomfort than hearing him boast to the table continued.

“You’re… you’re both a couple of pissy little pricks, y’know that?” Eddie finally sputtered, unable to keep from nudging just a bit closer to Vic, as if he were seeking some sort of protection. Vic, of course, would have none of that, his smirk morphing into a full-blown shit eating grin.
“You’d know about that, huh Nice Guy.” Tommy countered, pleased whenever he had the chance to one-up Eddie.

“You two are just jealous anyways.” Toothpick murmured, shifting towards Eddie so he could dig in his front right pocket, grinning with an all-too toothy grin.
“Shut up…” The young Cabot hissed, his voice was thin but hoarse, a low sound, but before he could finish, something warm and smooth, a deliberate ring pressed between two pieces of glossy foil, swimming in lube was placed in his palm of his *other* hand, beneath the table. Vic had apparently been toying with this lascivious item, and it only made Nice Guy’s face flare up further.

As Cabot attempted to keep some semblance of ‘cool’, i.e. - trying not to crumple under the fact that he was holding a warm-with-body-heat condom in his palm, he shot a dark look at Vic, who took the rubber back then reached for his beer, with the rubber still in his hand, taking a long swig, his face steeled and eyes almost infuriatingly even.

Vega's lips twitched a little, "That’s fine..." He murmured, almost too loudly. "We don't need one." And with that he took a sip, sliding the rubber back into his pocket before his arm dropped casually back beneath the table.

“So, what are you two lovebirds doing tonight, huh?” Jimmy leaned back in his eat, smoke pouring in an elegant jet from his lips to mingle with the plumes of smoke that made the bar seem hazy and perhaps too warm.

Damn, Vic wanted a cigarette.

His attention snapped back up to the other men, and he smirked, pulling a cigarette from Tommy’s open pack on the table. The corner of his mouth turned higher as the moustached man scowled while he lit the cancer-stick.
"Oh, y'know, same ol' shit. Vinny sent me a package... Joe's out, so I'm gonna pull some prison shit on Nice Guy here..."

“Shut the fuck up Vic, I…I swear to fuckin’ God--" But at this point, it was better off Eddie said nothing, considering that both Jimmy and Tommy were laughing their asses off too thoroughly to pick up on his almost tremulous tone.

Like hell he didn’t have a million and one things running through his head, and he couldn’t believe that Vic was just pushin’ it still, egging everyone on to tease him about shit that got him the most riled up.
That was probably why, and he knew it, but there was nothing he could do to stop his gut reactions. Shit, like he wouldn’t be down for some prison shit at any given time. Eddie bit his lip with a furrowed brow, looking away. That fuck had dropped a hand on his goddamned leg, his nostrils flared. He knew where the FUCK this was goin’, or at least he hoped he did… Toothpick was gonna drive him fuckin’ insane, all night if he could.

Vic, of course, smiled a little, his hand sliding to grip Eddie's leg, give him a pat that just grazed almost too close to his inner thigh. He wasn't an idiot, not by a long shot either. He'd known, from the first time it'd happened, that Eddie was hot for him, that he could stir shit in the guy with just a look.
That was one of the thoughts he had in prison, one of the muses to keep him from killing everyone that breathed in the air he breathed out.

Eddie was waiting; Eddie would always be there too, no matter what. If anything, the sometimes childish guy was loyal, to the death.

Shit, he was sure even he being in jail was taking a worse toll on Eddie than himself, but that was all different now. He was out, and being a good boy for once, had actually paid off.

Vic’s nostrils flared and he took a long drag of his cigarette. Like it wasn't hard not to fucking press his nose up to that curve of jaw, and inhale, press himself against the length of Eddie's thick body and grind. Oh, he knew he could get away with it too, in a heartbeat... And the urge to do so had been there for some time, but right now, it was incredible.

"Yeah, swear to God I'm gonna scream your name all night like the bitch I am…" He rumbled, finishing Eddie’s almost ominous statement.

Oh… perhaps the jail thing would work in his favor, he could definitely get away with teasing Eddie like this, the incarceration wasn't something Tommy or Jimmy could debate with him..

Besides, the two were almost red in the face themselves with laughter, Tommy banging his fist down on the table with an almost uncanny laughing fit, Jimmy's head had lolled back and he was rubbing his forehead, also slamming his fist down.

Perfect. The two couldn’t have been more convinced that this was a joke, shit; Eddie almost believed it too, though more than a large part of him didn’t even want to think Vic’d jest like this. Sure, they could laugh, until they came to the surprising (or was it…?) conclusion that Nice Guy Eddie was more than ready to shift a little to the right and push into Vic’s hand, crawl into his lap and push him down… Yeah, tha’d shut them the fuck up real quick.

Jimmy and Tommy were good fuckin’ guys, but their propensity for making fun of Eddie, and Vic’s tendency to give them more material to work with… Christ, they’d always have something to laugh at, the assholes…

Vic’s face, his eyes especially had a quiet and rough sensibility, but a large dose of humor as well, his broad smiles and that innocently quirked eyebrow could melt fuckin’ steel, but even when completely iron-eyed and straight faced, he could tell a joke with the best of ‘em. When Victor Vega was dead serious, you could tell beyond the shadow of a doubt, but when he was only half-in-jest, well… that was where the line grew blurry…

The hand on his lap slid, and Eddie’s eyes widened as that hand give him a thoughtful pat, then a handful of a grab. Oh, he was sure Vic could feel the heat radiating from between his thighs, which was evidently why he didn’t hesitate to move his hand dangerously closer, those normally almost crystal-clear azure eyes darkening considerably.

Usually if anything ever went in this direction, Vic was
A) Not in a bar
B) At some heavy semblance of inebriation
C) …Or could at least blame his behavior on some heavy semblance of inebriation

But now, the youngest Vega was all instinct, want, Christ no, there was a need that had already made a considerable bulge in Vic’s jeans, not that he was even bothering to pay attention to that at the moment…

He pulled his hand back, draping his arm around Eddie's shoulders again, then gave that a squeeze too, bringing the flushed man close to him.
"Y'know guys, I think I gotta get Nice Guy home, he's lookin' a bit feverish, might be a good time to call it a night, huh?" His brow quirked in that impish, almost cute way, and the two other men regained some semblance of composure.

"He is right.." Jimmy began. "Tommy, come over to my place, I got 'Desperately Seeking Susan', with that damn snatch... Ya gotta see it, might be the worst acting I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing…”

Slugging down the rest of his drink, Tommy swept the back of his hand across his flushed, bristled mouth, grinning as he clapped both hand down on the tabletop.
“Y’know, I really don’t know why you hate her that much.”
“Just do.”
“I know, I know… Let’s go then...”

The two stood, Jimmy pushing in his chair after saluting Vic and Eddie, and Tommy followed.
“See ya around Vic…” He mumbled picking up his pack of cigarettes, and with a deferential, almost serious nod, to Eddie, the man couldn’t help a tiny smirk: “Missus Vega.”

And with that, he turned, ambling through the thatch of people after Jimmy, leaving Eddie torn between his urges—Both equally strong; To punch Vic in the face, or slide down to his knees like a circus seal beneath the table, in his dive of a bar. The young Cabot managed to fight back the wave of fury and the converse wave of lust to pant evenly.
“…So.”
“Let’s go home.” Vic rumbled, ignoring the urge to shift towards the slightly shorter man and press his nose against the curve of his jaw, and just breathe.

It’s not like he couldn’t’ tell how bothered the other man was, he could smell it. He’d always been able to. That thick, sweet, almost mouthwatering smell, that in it’s most, was undeniably male.

Shit, everyone in prison had exuded bitterness, it was just fuckin’ overwhelming. Everywhere, it was like their sweat was laced with it, to get a hint of the musk that was Eddie fuckin’ Cabot was just… fuck.

Letting out an almost guttural sounding purr, the man shifted close, pressing his nose against the side of Eddie’s throat, inhaling sharply as he trailed upwards towards that curve of his ear. He didn’t care if anyone saw them; he didn’t care if fuckin’ Seymour Scagnetti walked through the goddamned door right now. Swallowing, Vic let out a shuddery, heavy breath and pulled back, the lit cigarette that was burning away in the ashtray finding its way back between his lips. Toothpick slid back in his chair, jaw steeled as he stood.

“Let’s go.”

It took a moment, and the realization that Vic had already left the table for Eddie to regain some level of composure, his face flushed and pupils all but dilated. Yes, he’d been close with Vic before, yeah, they’d even fallen asleep on the couch together once or twice, even in the same bed (well not beneath the blankets, but on it… but still!)… But it still had been some time since any of this had happened.

A definitely large amount of time between these somewhat affectionate gestures.

However this one, this… since he’d gotten back from that call from Scagnetti, had been a bit more than a little affectionate gesture.

Adjusting himself as discreetly as possible, Eddie stood, waved over his head to the bartender across the room if only out of some habit, and hurried behind the man who had held him so captive with his charms--

Oh good GOD. How he ever lived four years without him, he’d never fuckin’ know.

It was almost difficult at this point to leave, and Eddie for once cursed the fact that he was somewhat of a social butterfly, (if only *because* of the bar…) it was a task attempting to wave and be somewhat-polite to every-goddamned-motherfucker who decided to notice him at this very freakin’ moment.

With a pant, he was out of the door, the parking lot was chilly and clear for California, the air was free of smoke-- It made Cabot’s lungs burn slightly if only for a moment, this breath of air, that wasn’t hindered by smoke or booze or sex had made him relax if just slightly, allowing his rager to ease off a bit, become less painful.

God, it was good to get out of there… Though he’d be a fool to let himself think that he wasn’t going to be dragged into a more compromising situation in very immediate future.

Vic had flicked his cigarette away as he reached the car, glancing over his shoulder at the other before sliding into the passenger’s seat. There was no way he could be near Eddie at this moment, no way he could even look at the guy without wanting to touch him.

In a very inappropriate way.

He swallowed as he fingered the seatbelt buckle, glancing again to see how far back Eddie was. And it was literally seconds before Cabot was in, and the scent of him was back like a punch to the mouth.

Eddie, of course, felt it too; the smell invaded his nostrils and slammed him in the fuckin’ skull.

The sting of sweat, cigarettes and arousal. Christ. His brows furrowed and he buried his face in his hands, letting out a sharp whine.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake Vic!” He let out a heavy sigh, one eye closed, the other peering at Vic
behind dark, thick lashes. “It fuckin’ stinks in here, crack a window.” However, his lap, his whole fuckin’ posture said something different, and he hunched down slightly if only to hide himself from the other. “Seriously…” The thin creak in his voice as back, and he flushed at the sound.

Reaching in his pocket, Eddie freed his keys, which lessened the strain from his slacks, but did nothing to alleviate the pressure in his groin. Man, it’d be real easy to flee this situation, though he’d have no way to get the fuck home, and he’d have some major explaining to do, but he stayed put, working on the task of regaining some composure.

"I can't roll down the windows unless you turn on the car." Vic rumbled hotly, his nostrils in some perpetual state of flared at the moment. He cast a look to the side and eyed the flustered man, a deliberate gaze focused on his lap. And that only made him smirk, Eddie was all fuckin' talk, all the goddamned damn time.

Always had been.

And that statement had earned him an owlish blink, Eddie stuffing the keys into the ignition, the car starting with a low, rumbled roar. He sighed, reaching up to adjust the rear-view, before slipping one hand to the window-crank. Vic always had to be fuckin’ difficult…

But suddenly, he paused, cocking his head to glance at Vic.

They were past all of this shit, that gazing into each other’s eyes, that overdramatic ‘does he know I feel that way about him…?’ stage. He’d been flat out lusting over his friend for a decade, and if there had been any indication that Vic had felt the same way, he’d probably just overlooked it, but now. Shit, it’s not like he hadn’t just had a condom in his fist not more than a half an hour ago--- AND what the FUCK was Vic doin’ with a rubber in his pocket anyway, especially if he knew he was goin’ to the Cabot house tonight anyway…

Eddie never really did figure out why he stayed so fuckin’ shy, naïve even…

“You’re a real fuckin’ piece of work, y’know that? You nearly got Jimmy and fuckin’ Tommy thinkin’ we’re queer together!” Cabot shifted in his seat, shaking his head a little as he leaned towards the other man, his mouth seeking the junction on Vic’s throat where jaw met ear. “Sometimes you really piss me off…” He rumbled, but that skin tasted so damn good…

Vic turned his head slightly, their cheeks bumping, pulling back enough so that their noses nudged, and he smirked, finally close enough to take the air from Eddie's mouth, but he didn't yet.. "I know…" Was his answer, his eyes fucking sparkling, the car was so hot, and everything smelled so good, "It's what I'm good at.." He rumbled, why did he always tell himself how easy it would be to do this, do that... Shit, what if Eddie actually did make the first move, the guy'd be boasting about it until the day they died. Ah, shit… his lids dropped a little, and he shifted, pressing his mouth to Eddie's. Not lightly, but he wasn't about to tear the other's lips up, firmly, with a sharp intake of breath… And Eddie kissed back, slow and sure, like this wasn’t the first time their lips had actually touched.

But he too, felt as determined as Victor to be the one who came out on top, so to speak, and smiled through it, pulling away after a few long, hot moments… And slipped to rest his hand on something hard, pressing down slightly, then pulling with a strong, fluid motion.

The gearshift.

They were pulling backward out of the space, and Eddie was looking more than pleased with himself. There wasn’t much Vic could do to get to Nice Guy while they drove, now was there…?

Vic smirked, licking his lips as he sat back, only unrolling his window a little... The air was good, just to keep him sated. And he was almost surprised, thinking that maybe after all this time Eddie would just melt in his mouth, not that that wasn’t a delicious idea…

Shifting, Vic pushed the shoulder-strap behind him, and twisted, leaning against the man in the driver's seat. It was nearing 11:00, not too many cops out or anything.. He nosed Eddie's neck like in the bar, his right hand falling into his friend's lap, fingering his thigh..."Mmmmnn.."

And as soon as he could relish in it, Eddie’s triumphant mood was slipping away, his brow furrowing, the grip on the steering wheel growing unsteady, but staying firm.
“What the fuck are you doing…?” He hissed eyes fearful to stray from the road, sure, there were no cops around, but that didn’t mean he was in the mood to drive his fuckin’ car into a telephone pole.

The moon tonight, was full and bright, casting an almost silver-blue glare on everything-- Not the best night for a car accident… But Christ, Eddie’s jaw clenched, and he let a curse slip past his lips… There might not have been a better time in his LIFE to be jacked-off in a car, but a husky “Oh Christ Vic, not now…” left his lips, though his cock twitched eagerly at the thought.
“Not now what…?” He rumbled hotly, lips pressed lightly to Eddie’s earlobe as his fingers deftly, with an almost surprising amount of skill, unfastened the button and subsequent zipper on Eddie’s slacks.

Oh, it wasn’t like Cabot didn’t want it, saying that would be a lie, his body would always betray his mouth… The heat though, that was what was really drawing Vic in. His lips moved, in an almost distracting manner as his palm pressed firmly against the head of Eddie’s probably painful arousal. Shit, he could even feel the wetness seeping through Cabot’s probably ridiculously expensive boxers.

Eddie of course, let out a sort of choked sound, his hips bucking at the contact, and he tried in desperation not to force his foot down on the gas, relishing in that touch he’d craved for fucking years.

The young Cabot was squirming in his seat, and honestly, who wouldn’t be?

This kind of shit was the fever-dream of many a horny teenager… Shit, it wasn’t as if the idea of getting fellated in his car hadn’t passed through that filthy mind of his, though the opportunity never seemed to arise.

He let out another helpless cry, the realization of this situation hitting him; his hand gripped tightly to the wheel, staying steady and secure… It was every *other* part of his body that trembled.
“Nnhhh…” He whimpered on the exhale, not wanting to release the wheel for even a moment to swipe at the drops of sweat rolling down his temple. With a little gasp, the flustered man-brat hit the cruise-control button on the dash, and thanked his lucky stars the road head was fairly straight.

Well, and remotely deserted.

“F--Fuck you…” He moaned, as Vic ran his fingertips along his length, coaxing Eddie’s twitching hardness out of those too-tight pants. “You get off o-on this, huh?” He all but panted, trying not to stare down at the man. “P-Putting… us in f-- Fuck it Vic! We could *crash* if you keep this shit up!!!”

Toothpick, of course, shrugged his shoulders lightly, eyes perpetually so dark and chill, flicking up to meet Eddie’s half-lidded gaze. The Cabot stifled another almost pathetic groan, trying to keep his eyes on the road when Vic’s eyes lowered…

His head lowered…

Vic was smirking mentally, so to speak, the sharp peak of his nose brushing the weeping head of Eddie's cock, his lips followed, pressing an almost kiss to his rigid shaft of flesh, the smell of him was more intoxicating than anything Vinny could ever ship from Amsterdam..

He heard the sharp squeal, the slight jerk of the steering wheel as his lips parted and his tongue swept out to lap at the smooth, hot skin. Eddie's breath was fast and ragged and he hadn't even unclenched his own jaw (which was clenched with sheer anticipation..) as he pulled back, just a little, licking his lips for a brief moment before shifting back in the passenger's seat, his mouth opening as he devoured Nice Guy's cock.

Fuckin' perfect, cut and thick, probably the most well-proportioned shaft he'd seen... not that he'd seen many, there was no chance that he'd done anything *like* this in prison, Vic Vega was no one's bitch...

Except Eddie's, and he wouldn't admit that for the life of him, though it was pretty obvious at the moment, his head lowering, that thick smell, added with the hot flesh in his mouth...
And the only thing that really made this moment fuckin' perfect were the sounds emanating from Eddie's mouth. Christ, the guy couldn't stop letting out a hitched noise here, or there, he'd probably never gotten a *good* blowjob before.

Vic continued to lower his head until he felt the urge to gag, which swiftly passed, again, the urge to pleasure his friend was much, much more intense than any urge to regurgitate... Oh, no, his nostrils flared as he pulled back, then lowered his head again, a low, pleased rumble leaving his throat…

“Ohh… my Christ…” The noise was barely intelligible, sounding more like a sob. The urge to bring the car to a screeching halt in some abandoned parking and recline his seat as far as it could go was unbearable, but what the fuck…? Tha’d be admitting defeat, tha’d be throwing in the fuckin’ towel…

Eddie might feel better if he just relaxed, sat back in the seat and watched the road -- but holy shit… Just… The fact that this was happening, and he had little control of the situation was borderline-infuriating.

“I swear to God… Toothpick…” His voice cracked slightly, and he flushed in shame of it all, no one made him feel like a fledgling punk more than Vic Vega, not even his daddy. Eddie attempted to assert himself one last time. “If you don’t get your foul mouth off my cock right now…” He panted, nostrils flaring as he tried not to let his head drop against the headrest. “A-and keep your hands… to yourself, I’ll have you shot!” Edie rasped, but… Well…

Shit.

Why listen to Nice Guy’s rambling mouth when said cock was standing up, and more than willing, weeping hot tears that disappeared fast at the mercy of Victor’s tongue.

That man often called ‘Toothpick’ grinned genially up at Eddie, brows set, then ducked back down and took that stiffness into his mouth once more, delicately tonguing the underside, repressing the urge to bite.

Who really knew what motivated Vic, whether there were honestly any worries in that pretty skull of his, about getting into an accident, whether those worries were any more intense than the ones about possibly getting shot in the eye.

There were no thoughts in his mind, he knew, deep down that Eddie wasn't truly careless enough to turn the car into a telephone pole, but it would be interesting to test that theory...

Vic let out another throaty sound, he did actually enjoy this, if only because it was Eddie he was going down on... One hand gripped Eddie's thigh, the other was slung around the back of Nice Guy's seat... Every slow-bob of his head was deliberate, there was no rush to get Eddie off, he knew it was coming, so to speak any moment anyway, but he wanted to memorize this piece of Nice Guy's body, he knew the guy, he could find any birthmark on the guy's body with a touch of his finger and his eyes closed... but this part of Eddie's anatomy tended to be a bit on the secretive side.

His tongue curled, and he pulled his mouth off of his Nice Guy, sharp tongue touching the very slit where Eddie's cock was weeping. Christ, nothing, to date, tasted better... Nostrils flaring again, Vic's head shot down, and he was swallowing around the length of cock in his throat.
Anything for Eddie.
He loved this guy, shit, always had. And to hear his cocky-fuckin' mouth, trying to act tough as nails…

Man, he was aching, literally for the moment when he'd be making this fuckin' guy scream.

But with that mouth working on him, those glorious eyes shining up at him, Eddie dropped his head back, hands caressing Vic’s neck and back, (as if the man needed any further encouragement..) his mouth mewled that name over and over again.

“Viiiiic…. Viiiiic…” Drawing out that long, low ‘I’ in the middle, turning his name into some sort of lust-filled chant that all but tapered off to heavy, almost pained sounding pants, a crude rendition of those three letters tagged together, which somehow had turned into 8 or 9 letters…

And Eddie finally came, the actual action was not as impressive as the noise that accompanied it, the hot stream of semen was announced by a hotter stream of profanity, and a guttural sound that shot hard and fast from him, trailed off so sticky and sweet…

He leaned, crumpled and spent over his best friend, wiping his own mouth, dragging his sleeve over well-moistened eyes.

Well Vic, ya happy?

You made him scream.

More than eager to get all of that delicious taste on his tongue, and down his throat...

To know that he would be tasting this taste with everything that he even bothered to put in his mouth, for quite some time, was fuckin' wonderful...

But that sound, those large, gaudy-ringed hands running over his head and neck, down his back... He almost slumped too, his body relaxing as the hand that had probably left a bruise on Eddie's thigh stroked his leg, his arm sliding from behind the seat to around Eddie's lower back.

Mmmmn...

He'd actually cum a bit too, though he wouldn’t mention it, his cock had jumped at the would-be alarmingly loud yell that left Eddie's fuckin' perfect lips.

And Vic just lay there, still tonguing Eddie's cock as he was cuddled into his lap, no, fuck no, he didn't mind at all... And he didn't particularly want to move... His own eyes had gotten a little glassy... Check one off for Vic, I won this round... shit, or did you?

It was debatable, shit, Vic had just fellated the guy, but Eddie's mere voice had gotten him into a little bit of his own sticky situation..
A smirk, and a lick of his lips, and Vic shifted, tenderly stroking the limpening shaft of flesh before tucking Eddie back into his slacks, though that didn't stop him from keeping his palm heavily on his now cloth-covered cock.

Vic slid, nudging Eddie back in his seat as his nose pressed against a slightly sweaty throat. His lips curled into more of a pleased-with-myself smile, and he pressed his mouth against Eddie's cheek, keeping his face there.

"Drive." He rumbled, half pressed to the guy, leaning over from his seat to nuzzle his cheek and neck, hand still in his lap.

[Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am young again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am fun again]

[However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you]

[Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am free again
Whenever I'm alone with you
You make me feel like I am clean again]

[However far away
I will always love you
However long I stay
I will always love you
Whatever words I say
I will always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you
I will always love you]

[I will love you
I will make you
I will take you
I will... fuck you]